Fool Me Once (Codie Snow #1): A Romantic Suspense Series (12 page)

Chapter Eighteen

CODIE FELT INTENSE relief when, after the funeral, Slade asked if she wanted to go to the graveside service or skip it.  As much as she wanted to pay homage to Michelle’s memory, Codie had cried enough that day and needed to let it go.  Standing and weeping at the graveside service would take an emotional toll that she didn’t think she could afford to pay.

Unfortunately, something about the whole funeral stuck in her craw.  Rather than giving Codie closure like it should have, it instead made it even harder for her to let go of all the questions in her mind.  She couldn’t help but feel like all the men at the podium she’d heard that day were actors in roles, playing parts.

It made her angry for Michelle.  It made her feel sad.

Slade’s voice broke her out of her thoughts as he pulled his car into the parking lot of her apartment complex.  “Need some company for a while?”

“Um, yeah, that would be nice.”

It was early afternoon, and she knew Slade was probably itching to get back to the office.  He’d probably been calculating all the missed billable hours in his head the whole time.  And yet he hadn’t said a word about it.

As usual, Slade was surprising her.  As he closed her car door behind her, she grabbed his hand once again, appreciating the strength she could feel in his grip.  They walked up the steps to her place and he said, “This has been really hard on you, huh?”

“Yeah.  I’m not sure why.”  Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true.  She
knew
why—it was just that there were so many reasons she didn’t feel like explaining to her ex.

She unlocked the door to her apartment and dropped her purse on the kitchen counter.  “Would you like some coffee?”

“No.”  Slade strode toward her and she felt her body stiffen, her nipples harden.  His presence was commanding and just spending time with him today had reminded her of all the reasons why she’d fallen in love with him years ago.  He was kind and sweet when he wanted to be but, more than that, he was handsome and hot and strong.  Her body knew.  Her body remembered and longed for his touch.

And, somehow, Slade already knew that.

He laced his fingers through her hair, holding her head in his hands.  “I know what I’d like—but only if you want it too.”

Her voice sounded weak and like a young girl to her own ears.  “Don’t you have to go back to work?”

“Fuck work.  It can wait.”

She blinked and tried to swallow as his lips ground into hers, and she felt herself let go, giving herself to him completely.  He was what she wanted, what she needed—and, somehow, he was everything right this moment.

And he knew it.

Oh.
  As infuriating as Slade could often be—and as frequently as he got under her skin—Codie also remembered just what kind of chemistry they had.  His kiss made her feel like a woman from her head to her toes…but mainly where it counted most.  Not only were her mind and lips remembering how much they loved Slade…so were her lady parts.

His tongue teased her lips before dancing with hers, but he only kissed her long enough to warm her up.  As soon as he knew her mind was no longer dwelling on the funeral and had turned to the naughty thoughts he’d conjured up, his lips moved to her neck, leaving a trail of damp, feathery kisses before nibbling her earlobe.  But just as Codie had settled into that level of heat, he drifted downward, tracing her collarbone with the tip of his tongue.

And there was no denying his effect on her.  She was letting out a moan just as he lifted her up and set her ass on the table.  But she couldn’t keep up.  She felt his warm, strong hand moving up the inside of her thigh and, in response, she felt the muscles in her pussy tighten, begging for the release that she knew Slade could give her.

As his fingers tiptoed over her lacy panties and he hooked his fingers just over the top of the elastic, she drew in a deep breath.  That was when he nibbled on her lower lip.  “Lie down,” he commanded.

Not that she was about to disobey at this point.  Nope.  She was a willing slave.

She hadn’t completely lost her senses, though, and peeked behind her to make sure she wouldn’t be lying down on a greasy plate or a glass half full with water.  The table was cleared off, though, one of the many benefits of having Matthew, the neat freak, as a roommate, and she reclined on the hard wooden surface.

Slade had pushed her skirt up to her waist, even though it would have been easier to pull it off, and he was now removing her panties.

As slowly as humanly possible.

Codie felt herself growing impatient with anticipation, but she didn’t say anything.  Slade liked to do things his way in his own time and if she tried to hurry him along, he’d just make the wait more agonizing.  She hated to admit it, but that little game he liked to play had led to some of her best orgasms ever…so she couldn’t really complain.

Hmm.  Typical Slade.  He left her heels on.

After he dropped the black panties to the floor, he slid his hands up her legs, his hands firm against her inner thighs, and she felt every muscle tense up as he got closer and closer.  Frustrated but eager, Codie closed her eyes and lay back on the table, allowing herself to shove her fingers in Slade’s hair but nothing more.

She could feel him touching her all around down there, purposely avoiding the one spot she wanted him to touch, and then she could feel his hot breath.  Her pussy clenched again in response.  If it could talk, it would be telling him to stop dicking around already.

But, seconds later, she felt a hint of relief as his scorching tongue tickled her clit, teasing her with a promise of much more to come.  A long, low moan flowed from her lungs as if telling him to stay on track.

Not a word, though.

He knew…and after teasing her for what he’d felt was the proper amount of time, he began a steady, slow course of strokes with his tongue—exquisitely timed, perfectly executed—and there was no stopping now.  The build was excruciating yet delicious, reminding Codie of just how well Slade knew her body.

It wasn’t until she was on the verge that she realized how hard her heart was beating, how deep and rapid her breathing had become, but one more suck of air deep into her lungs, and her mind lost it all, let it go, and she cried out, unable to stop her mouth’s visceral response to his attention.  Wave after wave of euphoria crashed into her until she had no more to give.

Slade gave her a few seconds to recover, but then his hands were cupping her ass, dragging her down off the table.  She thought he was going to kiss her, but he instead turned her around.  Ah…he wasn’t done yet.  She knew that had she told him she didn’t want to, he wouldn’t have…but until she did, he was going to take her.

She wanted him.  She wanted him to take her.  Her body had missed him.

Codie registered that he was putting on a condom first. 
Good boy, Slade.
  But then, before he shoved his cock inside her from behind, she felt his fingers touching her again.

Holy shit.  She was going to come again.  And soon.

With his other hand, he grabbed her hair in a fist, not so it hurt, but so he could move her head around with ease.  He turned her skull just enough that he could press his lips into her ear.  And then he growled.  “I love how your pussy is always primed for me, Codie.”

God, was it ever.  It had its own sense memory.

And as he entered her from behind, it clenched against him, bringing her quickly to another orgasm.

Yeah…her ex knew her all too well.

* * *

Slade held Codie close in her bed as the bright afternoon sun poured through the window, warming her shoulder.  “Thanks for today, Slade.”

“Yeah.”  She felt his lips kiss the back of her neck, sending a slight shiver down her spine.  “Glad I could do it.”

“You have to go to work now?”

“Yeah.  Matthew’s probably ready to kill me.  He’s been blowing up my phone with text messages.”

Codie rolled over to look at him.  “Oh, shit.  You know I’ll hear about that tonight, don’t you?”

Slade’s trademark smirk slid over his face.  “Not if I’m here with you when he is.”

Oh.
  She forced a soft smile.  “You’re planning to be here?  Don’t you have a lot of work to do?”

“Well…I thought maybe we should have an official get-back-together meal.  Matthew would love to be part of that.  And then he can find something else to devote his nurturing side to.”

“Get back together.”  Codie let the words roll around in her brain pan for a moment.  “Yeah, that would be nice.  But…”

Slade raised his eyebrows.  “But?”

“You
know
what.”

He sighed as he sat up in her bed.  Jesus.  This scenario was getting all too familiar.  She just couldn’t believe how quickly it was happening already:  Make him uncomfortable, talk about her needs, and
boom!
  He was gone in a flash.  “Codie, just the fact that I want to be with you should be assurance enough that
I want to be with you
…that I don’t want anyone else.  I don’t know why you need more.”  Spoken like the expert courtroom lawyer he’d become.

“Because, Slade.  We’ve been together for how long?”

“Including all the breakups?”  Codie shrugged.  “Off and on again, it’s been what?  Close to four years?  Maybe five.”

“Yeah.  I could have earned a bachelor’s degree in that time.  Had several babies.  Travelled the world over.  On foot.”

“Codie—”  He was talking, but he was out of bed, sliding on his boxers.  Probably preparing his closing statement.

She stood as well, not caring that she was completely naked and that her second story window drapes were wide open.  “Slade, I don’t think it’s too much to ask: 
What does our future together look like?
”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.  “Not fair.  I can’t concentrate while you have the twins out.”

Codie couldn’t laugh, even though his remark was meant to be lighthearted and funny.  She picked up her robe off the post on her bed and pulled it over her shoulders, knowing full well he could still see enough through it that he could find her body distracting.  “Dammit, Slade.  I’ve seen the way you operate in court.  I call bullshit.  You’re a commitment phobe.”  He shook his head while zipping up his slacks.  “Either that, or you’re just waiting for something better—
someone
better to come along.”  Codie sucked down a deep breath.  “Oh, my God.  That’s it.  Your dad probably has an arranged marriage for you, but who can resist a steady squeeze until the wedding day?”

“Oh, Codie, come on.  You know that’s not true.  You’re emotional, honey.”

“Yes, I’m emotional, but I’m tired of being jerked around, Slade.  I don’t think it’s too much to ask.  I’m not asking for your hand in marriage.  I just want to know what to expect in my future.  I don’t want to wake up twenty years from now, unable to have kids, dumped for a younger woman, and realize I could have had more, something better.”

Slade paused in buttoning up his shirt and eyeballed her, one eyebrow raised.  “You think there’s something better?”

An evil part of her wanted to tell him about Pete, but the rest of her—including the part deep down that actually liked Pete in spite of his being yet another commitment-phobe—wanted to keep him and her short-lived fling with him secret.  So she merely added, “I never said that, Slade.  But
yeah
.  Someone who would commit—I think that would be better.  A thousand times better.”  She let her voice cool to below room temperature before adding, “I deserve better.”

Slade clearly thought he
was
the best, and she could tell from his eyes that had grown dark as coal.  “Then see what you can do.  Good luck with that.”

She couldn’t kick his ass out of her apartment fast enough.

Fucker.

Chapter Nineteen

CODIE AWOKE AFTER having an intense realistic dream.  In her head, she’d seen Pastor Pat Friedkin, his brow sweaty, his jaw clenched when not belting out a sermon-like chant.  He kept saying to Codie over and over, “How can we serve Michelle’s memory now that she’s gone?”

What had awakened her, though, had been the slick Tanner Johnson.  “We didn’t know about her personal struggles.  Now she’s gone and we can’t help her.”

As she shook off the cobwebs, Codie felt inspiration, felt like maybe she
could
help her old acquaintance.  Maybe by discovering what had made the young woman feel hopeless enough to take her own life, she could find peace.

One of them had to.

She heard Matthew open the front door, and Codie knew either he was heading out for his morning jog or just returning.  She glanced at the clock and saw that she was on the verge of oversleeping, so she sat up and stretched.  She didn’t know that she would have wanted to go back to sleep now anyway.  The pastor and Tanner made for haunted dreams.

Codie was wearing a summer pajama set—a pink satin two-piece button-up short-sleeve shirt and shorts combo—and so she didn’t bother with a robe as she left her room.  She hadn’t seen Matthew the night before but had heard him come in late, so this morning she expected a bit of a rundown of his date the night before.  Instead, when he saw her, he said, “There’s coffee already made, but tell me what the hell happened with you and Slade yesterday.”

“Why?  What do you mean?”

“
Oh-em-gee
, girlfriend.  He was
pissed
when he got back to the office and he wouldn’t say why.  Just started barking orders at everyone and snapping when we asked questions.  Later, I peeked in his office and asked him how you were doing and he muttered something about how much he hated women.”  Codie raised her eyebrows but said nothing, instead grabbing a cup out of the cabinet so she could pour herself some hot java.  “Yes, I figured it had to be
you
.  What the hell did you do?”

“What did
I
do?”  Codie was starting to feel a little more steamed herself.  “I only did what I always do, but I really put my foot down this time.  I asked for a commitment.”  She grabbed the carafe.  “I don’t see why that’s so damned difficult.”

“Oh, he didn’t say that was the problem.”

She poured coffee and then grabbed the sugar.  “Of course, he didn’t.  Wouldn’t want his star employee to think less of him.”

“Girlfriend, that’s harsh.”

“Maybe so, but truth hurts.”

“No…
you’re
hurting.”  She heard and felt rather than saw Matthew approach her, because she was purposely focusing on her coffee.  “I understand why you are, but you have to realize that Slade’s not the marrying kind.”

A tear threatened to fall, but no way was Codie going to shed one over a guy she needed to consider her
permanent
ex.  “Well, he needs to realize that
I’m
not the usable kind.”  She looked up at Matthew.  “We’re over.  Forever.”  She saw her friend lean toward her and she said, grinning in spite of her emotions, “And don’t you
dare
consider hugging me right now with your sweaty self.  I’ll hug you after your shower.”

“Codie, you are snarky today.  Maybe we need some retail therapy.”

She sighed as she brought her coffee cup to her lips.  “I definitely need therapy.  No doubt about that.”

* * *

The next day, Codie found an article in the paper.  Yes, it was on the front page, but it was under the fold, almost as if the people printing the paper hoped no one would actually see or read it.  It didn’t talk about the envelope next to Michelle’s body, which would indicate that the woman had killed herself—Codie could remember the scene as if it were yesterday—but it did mention that the autopsy confirmed that the deceased had died due to suffocation and that it was confirmed a suicide.

“Self-inflicted,” it said.

There were no other details, and she wasn’t going to call Pete.  She was afraid of being blown off.  Again.

Nope.  Instead, that night (or early morning, rather, since it was just past midnight), she headed over to the convenience store where Pete had gotten his free coffee, hoping to stop him there.

She was beginning to feel more like a true detective when, ten minutes into waiting at one of the benches in the store, she saw a police cruiser pull up to the building.  She’d purchased nachos and a fountain drink so the clerk wouldn’t hassle her for hanging around.  Codie’s smug bubble burst when she saw a cop who wasn’t Pete exit the car.

But of course.  It made sense.  Free coffee for cops—why wouldn’t they all take advantage?  Before that cop left, though, a second cruiser pulled in and, as the guy exited the store, he paused to talk to the other cop…and
that
officer just so happened to be the one she’d been waiting for.  She’d planned to wait until he had his coffee to start talking to him, maybe even follow him out into the parking lot, but then she felt like an idiot—because Pete was
paid
to observe.  Why wouldn’t he have noticed it was her?

Of course, he did.  “Codie?  What are you doing here?”

She couldn’t help the sheepish grin that covered her face.  Better that than nacho cheese.  “What a coincidence.”  He furrowed his brow, but before he could say anything to rebut, she said, “Get your coffee.  I’ll be right there.”  She picked up the plastic tray of half-eaten stale chips and processed cheese that was beginning to solidify so she could throw it away as she approached the counter where Pete was filling a Styrofoam cup.

“Wait.  Are you done eating those?”

“Yeah.  That’s why I’m gonna throw them away.”

“I’ll take ‘em.”

“Suit yourself.”  She forced herself not to grimace.  “They’re not exactly healthy.”  She walked back to the table, setting down the nachos and picking up her drink while waiting for Pete to head back.

“Just can’t get enough of me, eh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.  I just had some questions.”

“A likely story,” he said, picking up the tray of nachos and then moving toward the front door.  Codie started keeping pace with him.  He held up the cup as he nodded at the cashier.  “Thanks,” he said as he pushed the door open with the hand that held the coffee.  “Let’s see if I buy your
reason
.”

God, he was a cocky motherfucker.  She could almost
hear
the air quotes Pete hadn’t been able to display while saying “reason.”  She hadn’t remembered him that way…but it was pissing her off.  Stifling a sigh and holding her emotions at bay, she said, “I read the article in the paper today about Michelle Dinsmoor.”

“Codie, you’re obsessing.  You need to let that shit go already.”

She frowned.  “I can’t.  Not yet.”

Quoting her, he said, “It’s not exactly healthy.”  She scowled and stuck her tongue out at him.  “There you go, making more promises.”

Time to steer him back to the subject—starting with ignoring his last sentence.  “The article said her death was confirmed a suicide, but it didn’t give details.”

“Shit, Codie.  Why the hell would you want to know the gruesome blow-by-blow?  Isn’t it bad enough to know she took her own life?”

“I just…it’s
haunting
me, Pete.  Almost like Michelle wants me to know.  And if
you
don’t tell me, I’ll ask someone else.”

He looked like he was struggling with the idea and sighed.  “Let’s go back in and sit down.”  Raising an eyebrow, he added, “You don’t want to hear this standing up.”

Less than a minute later, they were both seated at the plastic table inside the convenience store, Pete downing a melty cheese-covered and soggy tortilla chip before continuing.  “Anyone asks, you didn’t hear this from me.”  Codie nodded, simply relieved that she was going to have some answers.  “The suicide note was confirmed to be written in her hand and, yes, it
was
a suicide note.  I don’t know exactly what she said in it and it doesn’t matter.  Apparently, though, she’d taken an entire bottle of acetaminophen—200 milligrams, a bottle of one hundred—and then pulled several shopping bags down over her head, tying them around her neck.  It looked like she’d done them one at a time until she’d sufficiently blocked the airflow.”

If a person could feel her face blanch, feel the blood drain from her veins, Codie could right that moment.  “
Jesus
,” she breathed, unable to fully comprehend what that woman must have been feeling.

“Exactly.  Death isn’t pretty, Codie.  And suicides are the worst.”

She doubted the real thing—underneath those plastic grocery bags—could have been worse than what she was conjuring in her mind.  What the hell had driven Michelle to do such a thing?  What could have been so bad that her method of dying seemed preferable?

And why couldn’t Codie let it go?