Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series (13 page)

“You can call me Jaye,” I said instead.

“J is still a letter. What’s your real name?”

“Jaye is my real name. Or I guess technically it’s my middle name.” He still looked confused, so I spelled it out for him. “J-A-Y-E.”

“Oh.” The tone of his voice was less than thrilled. I got the impressions it wasn’t romantic enough for him. “What’s your first name? Maybe I can call you that.”

“Nope, nobody calls me by my first name and lives.” Not even Jack knew what the initial stood for in my first name. No way was I about to tell someone I wanted to become involved with.

“Can you tell me about your book?” I asked to change the subject.

“Why? Do you want to know if you’re in it?” he asked, smiling.

“Of course not.” Okay, yes, I really did want to know, but that wasn’t something I was willing to admit to him.

“Well, I hope you’re not disappointed, but I decided you were the perfect influence for my heroine. Her name is Aurora, and she’s beautiful and intelligent, just as you are. She’s leading my Detective Chandler on a merry chase. I just haven’t decided if I’m going to kill you off at the end or not. Sometimes the crime supersedes love. Life’s not always a fairytale, you know.”

“Isn’t that just my luck,” I said. Our food was served and the conversation went back to the body currently sitting in a casket, prepared for burial the next day.

“How often do you get bodies across your table?” he asked. I could tell this was information he was tucking away for later use because he got that little crease between his eyebrows like he did when I was explaining the autopsy process to him the day before.

“It depends. I’m never swamped, if that’s what you’re asking. And deaths like Fiona’s don’t happen that often. It’s only the second homicide I’ve worked since I took the job. Bloody Mary has only had a handful of murders in the last hundred years. Some weeks I don’t get anyone across my table. Others, I’ll get two or three from natural causes.”

“It must be hard for a woman to run a business that grim by herself and then add the pressures of being coroner. Don’t you ever get tired of doing everything on your own?”

Boy, did I ever. But I kept it to myself. My parents had had each other to help shuffle the load and the stress of the job. I had no one.

“I have a couple of college students who help me out a couple of days a week if I need a hand. It’s more of an apprenticeship. But really, I’m fine.” I was lying through my teeth, and by the skeptical look on Brody’s face I could tell he wasn’t buying it. I mean really, how desperate did I want to look for this guy? “Let’s just say that after my parents died, nothing was more important than carrying on the family tradition. It would have been simpler all around if I’d sold the business, liquidated all their assets and kept my apartment over by the hospital. But it felt right to come home.”

“It was all you had left of them,” he said as more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah. I miss them every day. My dad had an old MG that he’d restored, and it was forever having problems of one kind or another. They were driving it up to a cabin they had in the Poconos when the brakes decided to stop working and the steering seized up. The car went over a cliff, and they both died instantly. They would have wanted to go together. They were a team. One of the most solid units I’ve ever seen.”

I took a drink of water to wet my throat that was suddenly dry with grief. I didn’t bother to mention that even though their deaths had been ruled accidental, there had been suspicion of it being a double suicide. Floyd Parker had been more than happy to print that little tidbit in his newspaper.

“But it feels good to be back in Bloody Mary,” I finally said. “It feels right. I didn’t realize how much I missed the subtle nuances of a small town until I moved back.”

“Subtle?” Brody asked with a smile. “I wouldn’t say subtle was exactly what I was thinking when that woman at the grocery store asked me if I was financially stable enough to support a wife and if I had all my own teeth. I was under the impression she had a single daughter.”

“That sounds like Hilda, but you might want to stay clear of her if she’s looking for a husband for Cleo. She got her older daughter married off by calling Roy Henderson to come fix a leak in her basement, but as soon as he went down the stairs she threw Georganne down right behind him. She’d planned it all out and left food and water down there for them, and when she let them out a couple of weeks later, Georganne was pregnant, and then they
had
to get married. Of course, it was dark down there, and Roy didn’t see what Georganne really looked like until they came out.”

Brody was laughing, and I realized this was just what I’d needed. “You’re joking,” he said.

“Their fifth is due in a couple of weeks,” I said, shaking my head. “And Mrs. Martin didn’t have to do any time for kidnapping after the charges were dropped. She means well.”

“Just so,” Brody said. “I think I’ll stay away from the grocery store.”

“You are wise beyond your years,” I said solemnly.

“So tell me,” he said. “Do I have reason to be jealous of the sheriff?”
That was a pretty strong declaration as to where he saw this thing between us going as far as I was concerned. “Jack’s the best friend I’ve ever had. But he’s like a brother to me.”

“Excellent,” he said, smiling.

After my initial nervousness wore off things went smoothly. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable around someone who wasn’t Jack. The champagne was gone, and somewhere during dessert we’d scooted closer to each other. My brain was warm and a little fuzzy, so it seemed perfectly natural for Brody to put his arm around me. My body seemed to fit his like a puzzle piece when he pulled me closer against him.

“We should go,” he whispered next to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine. I looked around the restaurant and realized there were very few people left inside. How long had we sat there talking?

“Are you going to invite me in for a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“It would probably be rude not too,” I said.

We were lost only in each other. The quiet voices and clatter from the restaurant disappeared. And when his lips brushed mine ever so gently, I began to feel whole again.

I was such a slut.

Hallelujah
.

It was still dark out when I woke with the feeling that something was different. An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me close against a hard muscled body. My brain finally switched on and the panic receded. Oh yeah. I remembered now. Who knew what inviting a person in for coffee would lead to?

“Go back to sleep,” Brody mumbled.

Obviously, Brody wasn’t a morning person. He was probably used to calling his own hours, but I was wide awake, and all I could think of was how I’d spent the night. My cashmere dress had ended up somewhere. Maybe the front porch, I couldn’t really remember, and I was almost sure my shoes were still in Brody’s car. I’d also been right about the underwear. They’d been much too fragile.

But my problems hadn’t been solved with one night of passion. I had something new to worry about now: The awkward morning after. 

What did I look like first thing in the morning?

Usually I got out of bed, only wearing an oversized t-shirt I’d grabbed out of a drawer the night before, poured a cup of coffee and took it directly into the shower with me, bypassing all mirrors on my way. I was going to have to go to the Square and buy some lingerie and nighties if this was going to be a continual thing.

And what was the etiquette on morning breath? Should I get up and brush my teeth before I ravished Brody again?

“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head,” Brody said. “I can’t possibly imagine how you’d have enough energy to think after last night.”

Before I was able to come up with a solution about my morning dilemmas, Brody rolled me over and was looking down at me. He was way more alert than I’d originally thought.

“You’re a lovely sight to see first thing in the morning,” he said, running his finger down the side of my face. “Even if it is so godawful early.”

Whew. At least that question was answered. And then he kissed me, and I forgot what I was worrying about to begin with. I’d learned how thorough Brody was the night before. As far as I was concerned, Brody was the Christopher Columbus of sex, discovering new worlds at every turn. Boy, when he set his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

The sky was turning pink when I finally got my eyes uncrossed and my breath back. “I think I’m paralyzed,” I said.

Brody’s snores filled the room in answer. So much for afterglow. I was glad I had the time to myself because I realized Brody Collins was a man who could break my heart. I was already more than half in love with him. And not just because of the sex either.

I slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on a robe and made my way down the stairs out of habit. I tried to think of something breakfast-like I could eat while the coffee brewed. I found some leftover spaghetti and put it in the microwave, and then just for the hell of it I looked at my reflection in the toaster. My hair stuck out in all directions and mascara was smudged under my eyes so I looked like a raccoon.

I needed to get to the funeral home and take care of any additional details for Fiona’s funeral. On the Sunday mornings I didn’t have to work, I could be found at the sunrise service at St. Paul’s. My dad always said church was the perfect place to advertise the business. John Luke Stranton, who owned the other funeral home in the county, went to Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church, so between the two of us we had our claims staked.

Phyllis had opted to have a graveside service, even though I’d tried to talk her out of it due to the weather. She’d wanted the ceremony to be quick and quiet, and I guess having a funeral service after a night of snow and freezing temperatures would ensure that.

I ate the spaghetti and drank my coffee in the shower and thought life couldn’t get much better. By the time I went back to the bedroom to tell Brody goodbye, I was feeling as good as I had in years. I sat a cup of coffee on the nightstand and laughed a little as he rolled over and blindly grabbed for it.

“Whatimsit?” he asked. Or at least I think that’s what he said.

“It’s still shy of eight. I just wanted to let you know I’ve got to go in to the funeral home.”

“Oh, good. I thought you were waking me up to have sex again.”

“Nah, you look pretty puny right now. You should probably go back to sleep for a couple of hours and save up your energy. Feel free to help yourself to the shower and whatever’s in the kitchen. I’m going to be tied up for most of the day.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got some research to do, and then I need to work a few hours this afternoon. Mrs. Baker gave me a suite so I can use one of the rooms as an office.”

“Ohmigod. I forgot about Mrs. Baker. She’s going to notice you didn’t come back last night.”

“So what?” he asked, confused.

“Don’t you understand?”

“Obviously not.”

“Stanley Lipinski saw us last night when you stopped for gas.”

“What does that have to do with Mrs. Baker?”

“Everybody knows that Stanley always eats Sunday morning brunch at Mrs. Baker’s. And it’ll only be a matter of time before she mentions that you never came back last night. And then that’s when he’ll say he saw us together at the gas station all fancied up. Then one thing will lead to another and they’ll put two and two together to figure out you spent last night here.”

Brody was laughing by the time I finished explaining. “You’re weird,” he said. “Is it such a bad thing that people know I stayed the night? King George County doesn’t stone women that have pre-marital sex, do they?”

“Shut up. It’s not really a big deal,” I said. “It just makes my life more complicated.”

He was fully awake now, the coffee and the subject matter having gotten his attention. I’d just gotten off the bed to distance myself and leave for the funeral parlor without saying anything else too embarrassing when he grabbed my hand. “Would you like me to complicate it again tonight?”

I did my best to keep myself from jumping for joy. “That would probably be best,” I said. “The damage has already been done.”

I left him laughing and realized I couldn’t keep the grin from my face. I hoped I could get it under control before the funeral, or I might have some serious explaining to do.

“You’d better get that grin off your face or everyone’s going to know you slept with the writer,” Jack said by way of greeting.

Heat rushed to my face and I ran my fingers through my hair like I usually do when I’m embarrassed or nervous. I’d been standing in front of the casket display of flowers for God knows how long.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with way more bravado than I was feeling. Could he really tell just by looking at me? Disturbing to say the least. My sex life was not open for discussion to anyone. Not even Jack.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I thought I’d hang around, see if you needed any help. George is going to be police escorted to the gravesite in a couple of hours, and I just needed some quiet time after the night I just had.”