Loyalty Card Page 4

“Your gran…” Higgins thinks. “Nurse Pat’s working for you, isn’t she?”

  Is it my imagination or does Nick stiffen at that question? I can’t tell because his smile is the same and he answers easily. “She sure does, although we don’t need her as often as we did when we first arrived.”

  “The Alison place was rented fully furnished, I hear.”

  The smile on Nick’s face dims by a full wattage. He’s bothered by these questions. I lean against the car and watch him squirm. He had me at a disadvantage at his house and then by insisting on following me home. Turnabout is fair play or whatever the saying is.

  “I’m not much of a decorator and my gran isn’t either. It seemed like the smart thing to do. So do you live here with Birdie?” Nick gestures toward the small apartment complex next to the Wash-n-Go that I reside on top of.

  “Yeah,” he confirms. He owns the whole small building. “What is it that you do?”

  “Help my gran out.”

  “Where’d you live before? Leonora, the gal who sold you the Alison place, said you don’t have any family here.”

  Nick’s smile nearly disappears. Looks like Mr. Higgins did some digging while I was gone. “From Chicago. Gran was tired of the city and wanted a nice town to retire to.”

  “Why Lakeville? It’s small, dying, and doesn’t even have a lake,” Higgins replies.

  The questions are getting to Nick. He scrubs a hand over his short blond hair before leaning over and snatching the plastic container of shells out of my grip and shoving it toward Higgins like a peace offering. “These are for you.” He tries to change the conversation.

  “Nick made them,” I chirp although I don’t know why I’m helping Nick get out of the interrogation.

  Higgins gives the container a suspicious look but doesn’t move to take it. “So you’re between jobs or are you living off your grandma’s Social Security check or what?”

  It’s such a rude question that I expect Nick to be offended but instead he bursts out laughing, folding in half like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Higgins and I exchange confused glances. After howling for what seems like five minutes, Nick straightens and wipes a hand against the back of his eyes. “Whew. I needed that. Am I living off of Gran’s Social Security check. To be honest, sir, I sort of am, but not forever. And don’t worry. I have a good enough job that I’ll be able to take care of Birdie when I marry her.”

  “You two are getting married?” Higgins is confused.

  “Oh, great. There he goes again.” I take the shells back and then grab Higgins’ arm before he can start questioning Nick anymore. “Thanks for dinner,” I yell over my shoulder.

  “When did you discuss marriage?” Higgins asks.

  “We didn’t. Nick is just making a joke. Apparently, his grandma and him think it’s funny.”

  “I know I said I wanted you to find yourself a nice man, but I don’t think he’s it. He’s hiding something and no good comes from a man who’s got something to hide.”

  I drag the corner of my mouth between my teeth. Higgins has some good advice, but I can already feel a part of me wanting to know those secrets. Behind those green eyes, what’s Nick really feeling?

  Chapter Nine

  Nick

  “I like her,” Gran announces when I get home.

  “Yeah, me too.” I give Gran a kiss.

  “You don’t sound like it.” She tugs on my sleeve as I turn to go down the hall to my bedroom. “What’s going on?”

  “Gran…” Fuck, I don’t want to worry her, but I need to prepare her in case we have to take off. I sit down on the table and take her hands between mine. “Chasing after Birdie might not have been the best decision in my life. Her boss was at the apartment complex and he had a lot of questions about us.”

  Gran’s face grows tight with worry. “You think he knows something?”

  “No and that’s the problem. He knows everything about this town. He called this house the Alison place and asked about our furniture situation.” Gran’s hands shake between mine. I tighten my grip. “Don’t worry, though. I’m going to get all the evidence we need to take my uncle down.”

  “I don’t know if I’m up for a move.” Her voice sounds querulous.

  My heart cracks a little but I don’t let any of that show. “The only move we’re making is to take you back to Pleasant Acres where you can play bridge with the cat lady. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Gran lets me help her up and I half carry her to her bedroom. She’s so light. I’m worried. Once inside her bedroom, she shoos me out. I leave the door slightly ajar so I can hear if she needs me and make my way down to my own bedroom. I arrow for my laptop and get to work. I’ve got all the books, but I haven’t been able to find out where my uncle Jim is siphoning the money from. Or where he’s depositing it. I know Dad thought putting his own brother in as the chief financial officer was the best move, but it only made it easier for him to rob Dad blind. I know Dad must’ve figured it out or Jim wouldn’t have had him killed. So where’s the answer? Where’s the clue Dad left me? It has to be here in the books. All I can do is keep looking.

  I scroll through spreadsheet after spreadsheet, comparing totals from one quarter to another, making growth charts to see if there’s any anomaly. I check the time on my phone and find three hours have passed without any success. Pushing away from my desk, I wander out into the hall. A quick peek reveals Gran safe asleep in her bed, the doors are locked tight, and the house is quiet as a tomb. I hate it. I throw myself down on the sofa and pull out my phone, thumbing through it until I reach the texts Birdie sent me.

  Ur creeptastic.

  literal serial killer material

  I laugh to myself. At least she’s got some self-preservation. I slide down the cushions and read the rest of the texts. Next time we see each other, I need a picture. Texts can only sustain me for so long.

  “You really work too hard,” Birdie says.

  I jerk upright. “Birdie?”

  The woman of my dreams flips her wild mane of hair and pins me in place with her brilliant green eyes. “That’s my name. Like it?” She stops about an inch from my feet. My eyes drop to her toes painted with some kind of glitter that catches the light. Slowly I make the trek upward along the inner seam of her jeans until I hit the junction of her legs.

  “Eyes up here,” she says.

  Reluctantly, I do as she asks. Her hand reaches out to cup my chin. “You’re tired, aren’t you? Poor baby.” She moves close enough that I can reach out and palm her hip.

  “Yes, I need you to take care of me.” I smooth my hand over the curve of her ass, hardly believing she’s letting me do this. The denim feels hot under my hand.

  She slides her hand into my hair. “What exactly do you need? Why don’t you direct me in great, explicit detail.”

  Dry-mouthed, I nod. “Gladly. First, we’re taking off your clothes. Second, I’m sucking on your tits. Third, I’m going to eat this ass until—“

  Bang! I jolt upright at the loud sound. “What in the fu—“ I trail off when I notice the sun streaming in through the living room windows. The side of my face is damp. I swipe my hand across my jaw and realize I had drooled. Makes sense, though, because a fantasy of Birdie is definitely drool-worthy, but that’s all it was—a fantasy. I get to my feet and pick up the walker that I had knocked over in my sleep. I head back to my desk because until I find the evidence of my uncle’s embezzlement, Birdie will remain a fantasy.

  Against my better judgment, I find myself outside the laundromat later that day. Through the large glass window, I can see Birdie sitting behind a counter, her head bent over something. Her curly hair is piled onto the top of her head and she’s chewing on the end of a pencil. We never got around to discussing what she does for a living. I only guessed she would be here because she said that Higgins was her boss. A little internet search brought me here--the very place I shouldn’t be. Her boss’ grilling yesterday made me realize that getting close to s
omeone means sharing secrets. I want to know everything about Birdie but she’s going to want to know everything about me, too.

  And what can I share? I don’t want to lie to Birdie but I can’t tell her I’m on the run from my uncle who murdered my parents. If he finds me, Birdie will be in danger. Do I care more about getting my rocks off or do I care about Birdie as a person? I grab the fried chicken that Gran made, set it outside of the laundromat and drive away.

  Chapter Ten

  Birdie

  I snag my books off the library desk, knowing that it’s almost closing time. Not that it matters. I’ve been staring at the same page for twenty minutes now without even reading it. I only came to the library to get out of my place. I thought a change of space would do me some good. Nope, I took my moping from my place with me to the library. It seems to follow you around like that. I’d sulked enough over the last few days and today I decided I needed to put a stop to it. At least I thought I would but it isn’t working.

  Three days. That’s how long it’s been since I saw Nick. One second he was demanding that I come over and making jokes about us having babies and the next he was gone. I even got up the nerve to send a pathetic text yesterday, thanking him for dinner. I’d gotten a simple you're welcome sent back and nothing more.

  I don’t know what has changed. It has to have something to do with Mr. Higgins’ line of questioning the other night. Nick looked really uncomfortable with how in-depth Mr. Higgins was getting. Even though his smile had remained on his face, his mood had shifted. I remind myself that I know he’s hiding something. I heard his own grandma say as much. Still, I can’t stop thinking about him. Or why he decided now that he would go MIA. He’d been the one to pursue me, so it doesn’t make sense.

  “Bye!” Charla the librarian chirps at me as I pass her desk. I give her a smile, blowing one of my curls out of my face.

  “Crap,” I mumble, turning around, remembering I left my reading glasses on the table. I collide with a giant body. I let out a small scream as I start to fall but he wraps an arm around me, steadying me on my feet. I stare up into the same green eyes that I’ve been thinking about since he left me outside of my place. “Hey,” I say, looking up at him. His hand reaches out and moves a loose curl away from my face. I want to lean my face into him but I control myself.

  “Hey,” he says back, giving me a half smile that doesn't meet his eyes. I see he’s got my glasses in his hand. When he realizes what I’m looking at, he hands them over.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking them from him. Was he in the library too? I wonder what he’s doing here. Maybe it has something to do with the secrets that he’s keeping.

  “No problem,” he responds, still holding his arm around me. I don’t know how long we stand there but he just stares down at me. My thoughts are all over the place. Is he here because he was following me or maybe he randomly ran into me and he doesn’t know what to say because he’s been trying to ghost me? I don’t know the answer and it’s going to drive me crazy. Yet, whatever the answer is, I’m still happy to see him. I only wish that I understood what was going on between us. He was so persistent at first and now he’s acting strange. I straighten my shoulders and decide to walk away. The same way I had the day in the store.

  “See you around.” I try and pull from his arm but he only pulls me closer.

  “I-” He only says the one word then trails off. Now I’m starting to get upset. I’m not into games and especially ones that get me emotionally twisted up. This is exactly why I don’t date.

  “Just let me go.” I look everywhere but at his face. I can’t meet his gaze. I want to go. Mr. Higgins was right. Men are the worst. Nick hasn't really done anything to me but he‘s still the worst. He is messing with my insides and I don’t care for it. I think I’m more fragile than I realized. He hadn’t made me any promises and it’s not as though we are dating, so I’m not sure why I’m getting so bent out of shape over this. I’ve known him for less than a week so he shouldn’t have any effect on me.

  “I tried to let go,” he growls, turning us and pushing me up against the side of the library.

  “What are you-” I’m cut off when his mouth comes down onto mine. He kisses me as though he’s been starved for days. Our tongues tangle as we both explore one another. I moan into his mouth, causing him to break our kiss.

  “We can’t do this,” he says as he kisses down the side of my neck.

  “Why?” I ask. He doesn't answer me. Instead he kisses me again. This time his hands dig into my hair as he pulls it down, letting it free. He tilts my head back, his tongue exploring my mouth. I whimper into his mouth, my fingers gripping his shirt as I cling to him. I get lost for a moment, forgetting about all the small questions I have. We do this until we are both breathless and there is no choice but to pull away. He drops his forehead to mine as we both try and catch our breath. My lips tingle from his kisses, as do other places on my body. I want more but my mind is playing catch up. He should never know how powerful that mouth of his is. It has the ability to make me forget about everything.

  “Why?” I repeat my question. He said we can’t do this. He’s the one who kissed me. He’s the one who was following me. It’s too much of a coincidence that he had my glasses in his hand when I went back to get them. It was only a matter of minutes and the only way he would have seen them sitting there would be if he was watching me to begin with.

  “I tried to stay away,” he responds after a minute when he sees that I’m not going to stop until I get an answer.

  “What are you talking about?” I drop my hand from his chest, letting go of his shirt. I lick my lips. My cheeks heat at how I continue to cling to him.

  “I should go,” he says but he leans down, brushing his mouth against mine, not seeming to want to go anywhere. I start to tilt my head back to kiss him again but then I remember that his mouth has the power to make me forget what I’m doing. I duck, going under his arm and out from against the wall.

  “I think I should go.” I am going to be the one that ghosts him this time. He is the one who has me feeling all funny. Showing up and kissing me. Gah! He is crazy. I can’t deal with these mixed signals. At least when I thought he was a serial killer I knew where I stood with him.

  Behind me I hear a slam and then my feet are in the air and I’m staring at the ground. “What are you doing?” I slam my fists against his back.

  “Not into playing games either,” he growls and slaps me across the ass.

  Oh crap, that felt good. I squirm on his shoulder, earning me another whack which I feel directly in my center. I clamp my legs together. Why is this happening to me? I don’t even like him.

  “This is kidnapping! You can get arrested for this!” I yell.

  “I’m sure your Higgins knows the police, doesn’t he?” Nick answers as he pushes the heavy oak doors of the library open and strides through like I don’t weigh a ton.

  Higgins actually hates Chief Baxter because of some old fight they had over a tractor. I don’t even know exactly what that is all about but Higgins would never ask Chief Baxter for a favor. Nick doesn’t know this, though. “You’re damn right and if you don’t put me down this instant, your ass is going to land in jail.”

  I swear he hesitates for a half second at least before picking up his stride into almost a slow jog. I bounce around on his shoulder, my head nearly hitting his ass a couple of times. Good Lord, he has a nice ass. I give myself a mental slap. I should not be noticing his ass. I should be struggling and then escaping. I start to wriggle, like a worm on the end of the hook, pushing at his back and kicking my legs. To my dismay—I mean, to my great joy, he puts me down.

  I blow my bangs out of my face. “What was that all about?” An inner voice tells me that now’s the time to flee but my feet feel cemented to the ground.

  “Did you enjoy your lunch?”

  I shake my head in confusion. Did he just ask me about lunch? What is he talking about? “Lunch?”

  “
Yeah, I left fried chicken three days ago, tomato basil soup two days ago, and fettuccine alfredo yesterday. You seemed like you enjoyed those.”

  My jaw drops. “I thought—Higgins—I mean…” I stop and scratch my head. “The food was from you.”

  Nick glowers at me. “How many men do you have that are going to leave you food? I want names, numbers, and locations.”

  “There are none. I thought it was Higgins.” I shove a hand into my mess of hair. “You left me food? I thought you were ignoring me.”

  Nick fists his hands at his sides. “I tried, but it’s not working so get in the car.” He wrenches the door open.

  I shake my head and back away. “No way. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “I thought we already established I’m not a serial killer.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but you’re a stranger. You won’t answer questions about your past. You avoid me for three days but leave food on my doorstep like I’m a stray cat you’re thinking of adopting, but don’t quite want to let me inside, so no, I don’t think I’m getting in the car with you.”

  “Then kidnapping it is,” he announces and scoops me up before I can even think of a reason to say no. Before I know it, I’m in the passenger seat with the seatbelt buckled.

  “Stay there,” he orders like the stray cat he thinks I am.

  My hand fumbles with the buckle but he’s in the car and has it rolling down the street before I can get the darn thing unlatched. With a sigh, I slap my arms together and glare at him.

  “I moved here from Chicago. Just graduated from college with my MBA and had plans to work for my dad’s company but he died in a car crash with my mom a month ago.”

  Instantly, my anger drains away. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  “It sucks. What’s your parental situation?”

  “Ironically, my mom moved to Chicago two years ago with her boyfriend. I probably would have had to move, too, if Higgins hadn’t offered me a job.”