Dark Burning: Dark Falls, CO Romantic Thriller Book 6 Page 10
“Jo-Jo-Juice,” offered the other guy, not joining in the laughter. He wiped his gloved hands on a rag.
Whitman snapped a finger toward the other man. “Yes! That’s it. He used to say Jo-Jo-Juice will be your go-go-juice.”
Copier man frowned. “I never really knew if he meant it would be the juice you’d go to when you wanted something to drink or the juice that would give you energy or the juice that would make you have to go.”
He flushed red as though realizing he’d said that in front of Merritt and ducked his head. She and Whitman laughed.
“What happened to his juice business?” Merritt asked.
It was Whitman who answered. The other guy went back to his machine.
“Didn’t sell much of it and he had to close down a few months into it. Left all that product in there for the landlord to cart off.”
“It was empty recently but were there other tenants between the juice man and the fire?”
A nod of his head answered her and he followed it with, “you bet. I think there was a paper company in there for a few years. Don’t know really what happened to them.” He leaned over again, calling to the copy room.
“Liam, you serviced their copiers, too, didn’t you?” He spoke to Merritt. “Always thought it was funny that a paper company needed to hire a photocopy repair guy. I mean, they deal in paper. Don’t you think they’d know how to do that stuff?”
Merritt smiled. She wondered if he knew how to do anything with the electronic components he sold but didn’t say anything about it.
He was talking to Liam again. “Did you handle the shoe guy’s copier’s too?”
Liam came back out of the copy room, this time toting a tool box in one of his gloved hands. The other arm was tucked under the carrying arm like he wanted to cross his arms but couldn’t with the tools.
“Yeah, had both of those accounts.” He gestured over his shoulder. “You’re all set in there.”
Mr. Whitman nodded but went on about the warehouse. “The shoe guy was the last guy there, wasn’t he, Liam?” He wrinkled his forehead. “That had to be two years back, maybe. He was only there a year or so before a leak in the room cost him a fortune in product and he and the landlord got into a fight over who was responsible for it. Neither one wanted to claim the loss on their insurance.”
“Yup. Left a couple of years ago. No one’s leased it since then.” He set his toolbox down.
“Liam Cavill this is Merritt McKenna from the Dark Falls Daily. She’s here working on a story for the paper.”
The man’s eyes went wide at the words and he dipped his head in greeting. “Ma’am.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He was blushing furiously and Merritt thought it was really cute. He seemed awkward. “Do the police know who’s setting those fires? There have been a lot of them now, huh?”
Merritt didn’t answer his question about what the police knew but she did smile. “Four now. I just thought I’d come back here and see if anyone had any ideas about who might have had a reason to set the warehouse on fire.” She grinned. “My boss wants something new.”
Liam didn’t say anything.
Mr. Whitman cut into the silence. “I can’t think of a reason someone would start it. Unless it was the owner wanting to get rid of it so he could sell the land without that monstrosity on it and be done with it. It’s been the bane of his existence.”
“But that wouldn’t explain the other fires,” Liam said, making the point Merritt would have made if he hadn’t.
Mr. Whitman leaned forward, eyes dancing with excitement. Merritt knew the look. He was about to tell her his theory of the case. It could be good or it could be absolute muck. She was leaning toward the latter on this one. Mr. Whitman seemed nice, but he didn’t strike her as being as sharp as the men and women she’d met in the detective unit who really knew how to piece together the bits of evidence and track down a criminal.
“Unless he wants to get rid of that place so bad he’s willing to burn down a few other places to cover it up.” Whitman laughed a little and shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can’t think of a reason for someone else to target the place. Honestly, before you started writing about the connection between the fires, I figured it was kids or vagrants or something.”
Merritt stood, knowing there was nothing more for them to tell her. Other than the idea that the landlord might have been involved, they had nothing to offer her. She’d thought early on that maybe the arsonist had been hired by the owners of the buildings to collect insurance money. She had asked that question at press conferences, but hadn’t asked Eric directly yet. She needed to remember to do that.
“Thank you so much for talking to me,” she said. She hated to use the cheesy line from police movies, but she did it anyway as she handed both men a card. “If you think of anything else, call me.”
“Do the police have any idea who’s doing this?” Liam asked again.
Merritt gave him another smile. “If I find that out, I’ll be sure to put it in my column tomorrow.”
Chapter Nineteen
Leo’s had changed.
Eric looked around at the cop bar and wondered what it was. For one thing, they weren’t all holding up the bar anymore, leaning against bar stools surrounded by badge bunnies looking to go home with a cop.
Instead, they were sitting at a table and most of the guys sitting with him had a woman they were either living with, engaged to, or just stupidly in love with.
He covered his discomfort with a long pull on his beer bottle. It wasn’t Leo’s Place that had changed. It was them.
Damn. He’d known on some level it was happening, but it still sucked to be faced with how complete the change was.
Still, he was happy for these guys. He looked at John with Ava. After his partner’s first marriage didn’t work, Eric kind of thought they’d be bachelors together forever. From the way John was looking at Ava, that wasn’t going to happen.
Rhys Evans was winding his way through the crowd toward them, his hand trailing behind him. Eric didn’t need three guesses to know that Ariel Beaubien would be attached to that hand. She and Rhys had been college sweethearts but torn apart years before when her father was arrested for his sister’s murder. Talk about a relationship killer. The two had found each other again and Rhys had joined the club of the eternally grinning but completely whipped.
Eric looked to the bar. There were a few of the guys from vice over there. He could go hang with them. Somehow, the thought didn’t appeal, but honestly neither did sitting here. Leo’s had lost a little of its luster for him.
As Rhys and Ariel joined the group, Eric stood and said his goodbyes, leaving a ten on the table to cover his beer and a tip, and a little extra because he didn’t want to take the time to wait for change. Five minutes later, he was heading for one of his favorite takeout places.
And two minutes after that, he was calling Merritt. “Hey, if you and Collin didn’t eat yet, I’m grabbing takeout. I could bring something over.”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a second and Eric palmed his head with his free hand. What was he thinking calling Merritt? Of all the former one-night-stands for him to call, he chose the one with a kid? The one who screamed commitment instead of fun?
The one he couldn’t get out of his damned mind no matter what he did to try to overwrite the memories?
She broke the silence with a laugh, startling him. It wasn’t at all what he expected.
“Collin’s in bed, Eric. It’s nine o’clock.”
“Shit, did I wake him up?”
“No,” she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.
“Oh well, okay. I guess I should let you—”
“You could come over. I’ve already eaten but I have wine. And you can eat. I’ll keep you company.”
Eric looked at the entrance to the restaurant. He wasn’t at all hungry.
“Be there in fifteen,” he said.
He made it in ten.
Eric couldn’t answer. He was too busy laughing at the thing she held in her arms.
“Lady,” he leaned a shoulder on the door frame, “that’s not a dog. It’s a mop. Someone left their wet mop at the shelter and you picked it up and took it home.”
The dog was panting and waving its front legs like it could run through the air to get to Eric.
Merritt was smiling at Eric, the kind of smile he loved, that just lit up her whole face, but she chastised him. “Stop that.”
“What? Like I’ll hurt his feelings?” He took the dog from her as she backed to let him in and shut the door behind him.
Eric held the little animal up and looked him in the eye. The dog just panted happily like they were best friends. “And he’s a horrible guard dog. Look at him. He’s ready to trade me all your valuables for a good tummy rub.”
Merritt smacked his arm playfully and Eric would be lying if he said he didn’t love that just a little too much. Maybe a lot too much.
“He’s exactly what we need.”
Eric cradled the dog in his arms. “Eh, I’m just teasing you. He’s pretty sweet.” Kitten nuzzled under Eric’s chin like he understood the whole exchange.
“Did you eat?” Merritt asked looking at his empty arms. “I thought you said you needed to get dinner.”
“Nah. I ate before I left the precinct. I just offered to bring you guys dinner so I had an excuse to come over.” He wondered why he’d admitted that. It was stupid, but then, he’d always believed in brutal honesty with women. Offering to bring her dinner so he could have an excuse to come over was as close to playing games as he got. He wasn’t about to lie about it after the fact.
“Do you want something to drink? I was going to have a glass of wine. I don’t have anything stronger to offer you.” She looked embarrassed. “Milk, wine, or water?”
A smile stretched his lips. “Wine is good.”
“Be right back.”
He watched her walk away and felt a tightening in his pants at the sight of her backside. Damnit, what the hell was he doing here? He didn’t ever sleep with the same woman twice. Not since Tiffany.
And if he was going to break that rule, it sure as shit shouldn’t be with this woman. She’d already lied to him once.
He stopped himself. If he was being fair, she hadn’t flat-out lied. He’d just been so pissed that she hadn’t told him she was a reporter before hopping in bed with him that he’d held that against her from day one. But in truth, neither of them had told the other about their lives before getting intimate. He had no real reason to hold that against her. And she’d been nothing but honest and up front with him since then.
Eric fell onto her couch wondering what the hell he was getting himself into.
And then she was back and looking gorgeous in a too-big sweatshirt with her russet hair in a ponytail. He stayed where he was, all thoughts of leaving before this went any further gone. He couldn’t walk away from her now if he tried.
Chapter Twenty
Merritt didn’t know what she was doing. This took stupid to a whole new level. Eric Cantu had made it perfectly clear he wanted nothing to do with her. He’d called her a liar, accused her of manipulating him. And even before that, he’d made it clear he was a sex-only kind of guy. He didn’t do stable. Didn’t do relationships.
She should want as far away from him as she could get.
But when she saw his number come up on her phone and he hadn’t been calling about work, she felt not so alone for once. And that felt nice.
The way he was looking at her as she held out a glass of wine to him also felt nice.
Oh damn she was just being stupid. It felt a whole hell of a lot better than nice. She was in an oversized sweatshirt and she’d barely had time to throw her hair into a ponytail when he called. She’d had to whip around the living room and toss toys and little boy underwear into a closet, then run after Kitten to make sure he didn’t slip out the front door when she opened it.
But he was still sitting there looking like he wanted to eat her up. She’d be an idiot not to enjoy that. Not to feel just a little bit special under that stare of his.
“Thanks,” he said as he took the glass she offered. His voice was low and deep and just the tone of it did things to her. She was too damned sex deprived.
She sat on the couch not too close but not too far from him, tucking one foot up under her.
“So, um,” she said, not really knowing what to say. She was awful at this. “How is the case going?”
He made a face. “I don’t want to talk about work.”
“Oh.” Wow, she was abysmally bad at this. “Sorry. I suck at, uh,” she gestured with a hand between them, “this. I don’t really know what to say. I don’t know if you just want to hang out as friends, or if you want more, or what we’re doing here. I think you’re looking at me like you want more, though, I have to say…”
She made a scoffing snort and waved a hand at herself, “you really have questionable taste. I digress. You see, I’m just babbling now and um…”
Eric was grinning like a fool at her little speech and she sighed.
He moved closer.
“You’re laughing at me,” she said.
“I am.” He came closer.
She scowled. “You’re an ass. You’re supposed to deny it.”
“I’m an honest guy.”
“To a fault,” she said and he barked a laugh in response.
He slid his hand through her hair, resting it on the back of her neck. “Can I kiss you, Merritt?”
“Yes.” It was whispered.
She thought he’d be intense, controlling, all-consuming as he had been that night in the bar. He wasn’t.
He moved his mouth slowly over hers, letting her taste him, feel the heat of him.
Merritt might have groaned a little.
“This doesn’t mean I can commit to anything, Merritt. It’s one night. That’s all.”
“A second one night,” she said. “Got it.”
He kissed her again, moving from the light slide of his lips against hers to a soft press of his lips, his tongue coming out to tease her. She moaned again.
“This doesn’t mean I like you, Cantu,” she said. “It’s just sex.”
He moved, shifting them so she straddled him as he pulled her close, taking control for the kind of kiss that she remembered from him. The kind that sent her whole body into shivers of anticipation.
His hands moved under her sweatshirt, skimming her sides as he deepened the kiss and she wriggled against him.
She wanted to say all kinds of things to him. Wanted to tell him she’d missed this somehow, even though they’d only been together the one time. Wanted to tell him how she’d craved it. How she thought about him in the last few months and wished for his touch.
She settled on, “you feel so good.”
He paused to kiss her neck, then nuzzled the spot, his breath teasing her as he spoke. “You, Merritt McKenna, feel incredible. Jesus, Merritt, so damned good.”
The power of his words sent a flush of pleasure through her. It was multiplied when his hands traveled to her breasts, his thumbs rubbing against the cups of her bra, teasing the nipples beneath.
“Eric,” she whispered.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
She froze in his arms, knowing she had gone too stiff.
“Mer?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.
“The office,” she said, thinking fast. She didn’t want him in her bedroom. It was too close, too personal. Too much like a relationship. He wasn’t offering that and she wasn’t foolish enough to hope for that with this man. So she needed to keep this away from the bedroom.
It was a weird way to draw a line, but it was where she was drawing it.
She nodded to the left, away from the bedrooms. “There’s a couch in there and a door out to the backya
rd.” Thank heavens for back exits. “If Collin wakes up, we’ll hear him coming and you can slip out before he sees you.”
If he thought anything of it or was offended by her plan, he didn’t show it. He stood, capturing her mouth with his own again as he started to carry her the way she’d gestured.
She laughed and clutched at his shoulders.
“That way,” she said, trying to point and hang onto him at the same time.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her and she felt a kick in her heart she needed to deny. She would not fall for this man and his sexy smiles and flattering attention. She would not. Could not.
She was chanting the mantra as he put her down on the couch in her office. She plum forgot it two seconds later as his magical hands and mouth went to work, erasing all thoughts and sanity from her mind.
“Where did you get this sweatshirt?” Eric asked as he lifted it over her head.
“Wh-what? My sweatshirt?” She looked at the apparently-offending piece of clothing.
He kissed her before pausing to answer and she was satisfied to hear he was a little breathless.
“Most of the time when women wear baggy sweatshirts like this, they come from an ex.” He frowned. “Or a current. I just want to know if there’s anyone I need to be jealous of? Any ex you can’t let go of.”
Her laugh was incredulous. “It’s my brother-in-law’s. I borrowed it last Christmas and forgot to give it back.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s cozy.”
His eyes locked onto her breast when her shoulder moved and then he was zeroed in, his mouth going to first one nipple, and then the other. God what that man could do with his tongue.
Two orgasms for her and one for him later and she still couldn’t offer much in the way of coherence. What she said was something along the lines of “God, I needed that.”
She supposed it was coherent, just not very complex.
Eric chuckled and pulled her against him, flipping so he was on his back and she was draped across him.