Crime & Counterpoint (17 page)

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Authors: M.S. Daniel

BOOK: Crime & Counterpoint
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31

Dinner was over, and Melissa and Shelley were elbow-deep in sudsy hot water, doing dishes in the large double sink. Behind them, Carrie and Ashleigh cut the pies and laid slices on gold-trimmed saucers while the Mitchell brothers and the other males kept coming in and out, assisting with logistical support.

“How generous,” Melissa griped when her husband Brad was one of the first to show up for dessert duty.

Much happier, Shelley suppressed a laugh but Melissa caught it and splashed her playfully.

“You’re not off the hook yet,” Melissa whispered. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Zach.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Besides, you’re in Maryland now, and I’m afraid of bothering you with my issues–”

“Oh my God, Shelley,” Melissa moaned. “My life is kids, diapers, and throw up. Your problems are the kind I
want
to hear about.” She elbowed Shelley. “Especially when they’re that
delicious.”

Shelley smiled but said nothing.

“It’s like I’m in the Army!” Erik moaned dramatically as he pushed back out the kitchen door with one piece of apple and one piece of pumpkin.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes. “Did
you
do the cooking?” she called back.

“Hey, I worked for fourteen hours straight yesterday!”

“Yeah, sitting on your ass, which by the way” – she tilted her head, inspecting – “It’s getting flabby.”

Erik’s jaw dropped, and he narrowed his eyes. “Watch yourself, Ash.”

Ashleigh grinned smugly, putting her hands on her hips. “Whatever you say, buns of steel.”

The ladies burst out laughing. Grumbling, Erik left, tail tucked between his legs. Soon after, the call came to halt the flow of pie, and Carrie and Ashleigh grabbed plates for themselves, talking at a racehorse pace as they headed back to the “army”.

In their absence, the kitchen grew serene, lulled by the sounds of sloshing water as Shelley and Melissa continued dish-duty.

But then, the pantry opened. Shelley looked over first, knowing full well who would emerge.

Zach, of course. And he had that adorable sleepy bear look, which melted all their hearts. A little disoriented, he rubbed at his face and then realized that females were staring at him. Again.

While Melissa tried to cover her smile, Shelley pulled her hands out of the sudsy water, rinsed them off, and wiped them dry on a towel, coming towards him as she did so. “Did you get some rest?”

Sheepishly, he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” He looked around uncomfortably.

Fortunately, Melissa said, “Hey Shell, I need to check on Brad and the kids. I swear he’s worse than they are sometimes.” As she left, she nabbed a pie plate for herself and waved to Shelley with a ‘go on’ sort of smile.

And then… it was just them. Zach felt awkward; her smile, meant to ease his tension, only made matters worse.

“Would you like some dessert?” she asked.

His core tightened while waiting for his head to clear of sleepy fog. But she turned and pointed to the remainder of what were obviously pies, and he wanted to smack himself. “I, uh, never told you but dinner was really good. Can’t believe you made all of it.”

“Well, I only started yesterday,” she said in mild sarcasm. Setting the towel aside, she went and cut him a larger-than-average slice of warm, golden apple pie. She then scooped out some French vanilla ice cream – the only thing she didn’t make – and then set it atop the flaky, buttery crust.

“How do you know I don’t want pumpkin?”

She shrugged. “I’m just assuming.”

“That’s a big assumption,” he rumbled, flirtation creeping into his voice.

She felt him drawing closer. “Would you rather have pumpkin?”

“That’s not the point.”

Frowning in confusion, she turned to look at him. “Just tell me what you want, Zach.”

He inhaled deeply as he came nearer. He smelled the warm spice and sugar permeating the air, but it was the subtle, unadulterated scent she exuded which made his bones ache and his mouth salivate. His eyes darkened to teal, and his brows furrowed deeply. “Shelley, I–”

“Yes?” she breathed with anticipation rising in her breast. Her pupils dilated. Warmth swept through her.

He wanted to say he was sorry about earlier. But instead, he shook his head. “I can’t–”

“Can’t what?” She stepped closer to him, encouragingly. Their feet met.

He told himself no even as his hands found her waist; she felt soft to the touch – like velvet. She feathered his chest. He felt her gently lean into him, and he lost whatever measure of willpower he’d been exercising. Wanting her in his marrow, he brought his mouth within a breath of hers and waited this time, giving her the chance to escape. But she encircled his neck with her soft hands and drew his head down, giving herself to him.

The world faded, his spirits buoyed, and a different kind of heat pierced the ice around his heart. Her healing, tender sweetness filled his mouth. His tongue entangled itself with hers as she saturated him completely.

She framed his pleasantly-rough face and kissed him, tasting him like well-aged wine, savoring every candy-coated drop as his hands possessed her, melding with her curves and digging into her hair. She felt his quixotic desire, and her own burst forth, magical, indescribable. Surreal.

She had the hazy thought that she could die quite happily right now. In his arms.

All too quickly it ended. Deliriously enraptured, she gazed into his impassioned orbs, and a punch-drunk smile curved her wet lips. As he pressed a gun-smoking kiss to her forehead, her fingers combed his hair. “So then,” she breathed innocently, “you
don’t
want the apple?”

A low chuckle emitted from his throat, and a sensuous grin transformed his face – it stopped her heart and dropped her stomach a thousand miles. Mouth gravitating to her neck, he said huskily, “Anything you’ve got, I want.”

Pleasure cascaded down her body. Her eyes closed as his words and touch spread like wildfire. He kissed every part of her exposed neck, backing her against the counter, pressing so close he could feel her quivering thighs. He would’ve acted on his burning desire except –

“Aunt Shelley!”

She gasped, eyes popping open. Guilty. Zach wasn’t as quick to let go as she was. But he said nothing.

A boy of about six burst in and came to a grinding halt. He stared at Zach.

“Yes, Tim?” Shelley prompted.

“Daddy says there’s a guy here to see you,” Tim said with a slight lisp, ruddy cheeks attesting to the fact that he’d been running.

Shelley smiled. “Okay, sweetie, thank you. I’m coming.” Tim rushed off then, yelling the missive even before he’d fully left.

She looked at Zach apologetically, smiling. “Why don’t you sit down and eat?”

He followed her to the kitchen table where she set the pie and now-melting ice cream in front of a chair along with a clean fork. As she sailed away on a happy cloud, he sat down, took his first bite, and nearly melted himself. He groaned as the rich crust, cinnamon-glazed apple, and cold ice cream came together in a sensational amalgam.

She threw him a honeyed smile as she pushed against the kitchen door. “See?” she said, mirthful, “I knew you’d like the apple.”

He smirked darkly and let the next bite linger on his tongue as he watched her mouthwatering body disappear. His blood heated with licentious thoughts; he couldn’t wait for her to return.

32

Henri was ready to meet her as she emerged from the kitchen. “The pie was fantastic, sweetheart. I especially loved the white chocolate.”

Shelley linked her hand through his arm. “I’m so glad you liked it.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything you make, I love.”

Glowing, she smiled to herself and glanced behind her at the closed kitchen door.

Henri noticed the direction of her gaze and appraised her with a different lens. There was an inexplicable shine to her eyes. An effervescence which had long been absent. Suspicion darkened his mood.

“Carter’s here,” he said as they reached the main vestibule. “He’s waiting for you in the front room.”

And just like that, her happy cloud evaporated. “What?”

Henri stopped as she did. “He said you’d called
him
. I thought you were still interested.”

Her chest constricted, feeling backed against the wall. “That was – that was weeks ago. But I told him, Daddy. I told him I needed to figure out my life on my own.”

He frowned, taking her by the upper arms. “And you will. He’ll just be there when you’re ready.”

She shook her head, distressed. She couldn’t tell the truth, but her face conveyed it. “But I don’t–”

Touching her cheek, he asked firmly, “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone but–”

“Then, listen. I know you think you’ve developed a connection with Abigail’s grandson. But he’s going to break your heart.” His voice held authority and quiet urgency.

“He won’t,” Shelley protested weakly, teary eyes begging her father to understand.

“He will, sweetheart.” He framed her face. “He’ll make you to bear his crosses, and you will forever regret.”

Desperation drowned her. A tear rolled down her cheek as the weight of her father’s words pressed upon her soul. She searched his eyes, her own round and disbelieving that he would deprive her of her heart’s desires. But with a sob, she went into his embrace. “What do you want me to do, Daddy?”

 

 

If there was anything to despise about his job, Carter didn’t have a clue what it might be. But he knew Shelley hated the fact that things always cropped up when she needed him. So he had gone to great lengths to thread the needle through the eye of the camel – or whatever the hell the saying was – and get the court date pushed back so his day would be clear. After all, it
was
Jared’s wedding. Second, in fact. Not that he’d actually sealed the deal the first time.

He would be lying if he said being the son-in-law of one of the most-touted trial lawyers in Manhattan hadn’t appealed to him before even Shelley had. But she was sexy, sweeter-than-honey, well-bred, and the sister of good friends. It wasn’t much of a sacrifice.

But somehow she had become a background project, and his career took precedence. That was, in part, why he hadn’t been too terribly upset when she told him she needed space ten months ago. Any other man might have been worried about her getting snatched up. But her father was all for the match, and she was nothing if not a devout daughter.

That’s why he’d come. To seal his investment. Zach had nothing to do with it.

Finally, the French doors opened. He removed his hand from his pocket and looked around. It was Shelley. But she didn’t seem happy. “Hey, there she is,” he said anyway with a smile.

“Hi, Carter.”

He appraised her tempting attire and half-frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to outdo Carrie?”

She glared at him. “Seriously?” Angry, she turned away, but he lunged to catch her.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. That was stupid.”

Reluctantly, she faced him again, this time with arms crossed.

He beamed her with his infectious, disarming smile and gripped her slender shoulders. “So listen, I’ve got good news and more good news. Which do you want first?”

Clasping her hands together, she shrugged and said, “Whichever.”

“I know how much you didn’t want to go to the wedding alone so I greased a few palms and voila!” He grinned, pulling her closer. His voice warmed. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

She forced a smile. “Whenever you want,” she said, injecting some false joy into her words. Carter hugged her, and she wrestled with her thoughts while hiding her face. What had she done?

 

 

James, Erik, Ben, and Clint Mitchel trooped into the kitchen single-file with Jared in the lead, each laden down with dirty plates and utensils, talking and grumbling in jest about being subject to such unreasonable treatment.

But when Jared saw Zach at the kitchen table finishing off another slice of pie, he stopped short. “What the hell?” he exclaimed. “You get special treatment?”


We
have to deal with family togetherness,” James rejoined, “while you get off scot-free. Where’s the justice?”

“No justice for the oppressed!” Erik dramatized.

In a good frame of mind, Zach grinned. “Hey. Guys. You think I
want
to be by myself? All alone?”

“YES!” the men said in magnanimous chorus.

“Okay, well I just did what I was told,” Zach replied, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands out. “Your sister practically forced me to sit down and wait for her.”

At the mention of Shelley, the Mitchel men regarded Zach shrewdly.

James kept quiet, but Erik spoke up. “Well, you might be waiting a long time.”

“Our Dad sent her off,” Ben chimed.

“She’s with Carter now,” Clint added with clear insinuation.

At this, Zach’s fledgling joy disappeared into a dark tunnel.

Jared sensed it. “Don’t listen to these Law and Order idiots. There’s nothing there, I’m telling you.”

Immediately, Erik turned red and shot Jared a peevish look. “What do you mean nothing?! She’s been with him ever since
you
screwed her up.”

Jared bristled and stabbed a finger back at Erik. “Hey! She’s the one who broke it off two days before the wedding!”

“What?!” Zach exploded as he slammed his fist into the table. Scowling fiercely, he glared at the men, who now were tongue-tied and staring back at him with anxious looks. Especially Jared.

James started towards Zach. “Woah. Come on, man. Take it easy.”

But Zach scraped his chair back and stormed out before he did anything he would regret.

However, just past the kitchen, his step hiccupped –

“Going somewhere, detective?”

Zach found Henri Mitchel staring at him with a dark look. He was like a hydrothermal vent along the ocean floor – issuing black funnels.

With two fingers, the venerated attorney motioned to him. “Come with me.”

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