I’m sure that guy was a cop. Is that who you were with, honeybee?
My interest has now piqued, even more than it had before. What are you up to, honeybee? Whatever she’s doing, I hope she’s not putting her trust in the wrong people. There isn’t a single cop in this city that I would trust. They’ve all proved to be as crooked as a dog’s hind leg. Particularly the ones who deal with Reed—their snouts are deep in the trough.
Making my way back over to Chelsea’s house, I decide I need to go straight to the horse’s mouth for the answers I need.
***
She’s soundly sleeping in her bed when I finally get past her barricaded set-up. I watch her for a few minutes. She is absolutely beautiful, even more so when her hair covers half her face in her slumber. I could never stay angry with her, no matter what she might be up to. She’s that final missing piece to my heart’s puzzle of emotions.
I kneel next to her, and carefully brush her hair away from her face. Her eyes spring open and stare at me, wide as saucers.
“Hey.” I try to calm her. “It’s me.”
She shoots straight up. “What the fuck?” Her voice is jittery.
“I’ve been worried.” My justification is terrible.
Rubbing at her eyes, her voice sounds irritated. “You were worried, so you thought performing a home invasion would solve it?” A naked breast welcomes me, even if she isn’t.
God, I love your sharp tongue.
I laugh. “You haven’t left me much choice. Your phone was off all night.”
I pull my grey woollen sweater over my head, and clasp my belt.
“What? You think you can just break in here, and start having sex with me?” Frowning indignantly, she pulls the covers up over her naked body.
My pants drop to the ground. “Chill, honeybee. I’m just getting into your bed. No one said there has to be sex. You disappear on me and won’t answer my calls or texts—I think I’m entitled to a little spooning.”
She grins. “Entitled?”
“Entitled,” I repeat and slide into the comfort of her bed.
I hold my arms out for her to fold into. She doesn’t fight it and her warm body nuzzles against mine, my tension instantaneously decreasing.
“And what’s my entitlement for you telling me to shut the fuck up and looking at me as if you were about to rip my head clean from my body today?”
I feel like a real piece of work. “Yeah about that—”
“It’s okay,” she interrupts, “I found some paperwork today that explained why you dislike Karen Lawson so much. Her husband investigated a couple of your cases, right?” Her blue eyes draw up to mine.
What paperwork have you found, honeybee? Is it the paperwork Reed told me he has?
Smiling, I can’t help but want to kiss her sweet face. Despite what I’ve done in my life, she’s still willing to accept me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like her, but I know I’m going to do everything I can to keep her.
“I won’t ever lose my shit like that again,” I assure her between kisses. “It’s just this whole media circus got the better of me today.”
She nods and offers a faint smile. “I know the feeling. I just don’t understand what their obsession is?”
“What the fuck is that all about?” I chuckle.
She laughs. “My life, your life—they’re both extraordinary. Are we the only people who understand that about each other?”
“Possibly.” I couldn’t agree with you more, honeybee. “Good enough reason to see where this goes, if you ask me.”
With that, I kiss her and our bodies naturally meld into one another. There isn’t an inch of her body that I don’t beg to have against me. In the most unique of ways, she fits me and I fit her.
We fit.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I didn’t realise how soundly I slept until I woke up. That was some good sleep. We only had sex for forty minutes, which is an official record of the shortest time for us.
Forty minutes. Is this a change in the relationship? We’ve gone from fucking for twelve hours, to an hour, to forty minutes … all within thirty-six hours. Is it a sign that things are slowing between us, already?
Don’t be a dickhead!
We’ve only been together for less than two days. But getting to know her for two weeks has only cemented that she has all the things I want in a woman. She had the sex appeal before we had sex, and now that I know what that leads to, she has more appeal than ever.
I hold her body in my arms; she sleeps heavily within them. I roll onto my back and she moves with me, tucking in like a little ball of wool. If you stay right here, I will protect you forever.
I want to tell her how much she is perfect for me.
My Ma and sister have tried to tell me that there is such a thing as love at first sight. I would scoff at it. I believed in insta-fuck —I could instantly tell when I was going to fuck a woman … which was all the time.
I fucked Chelsea the first time, too. I wanted to fuck her for the past two weeks beforehand. But then something happened. Emotions fired off like the electrical currents in a light bulb.
After that, everything changed. Something happened that my Ma and sister never spoke to me about. They didn’t warn me about what happened when you fucked a woman that you have feelings for. I felt something for Chelsea, and suddenly our fucking turned into something so much more. It turned into … feelings.
She wriggles within my arms. Squeezing her, I let her know she’s still with me. Her head turns first, then her body manoeuvrers around to face me.
“What time is it?” Her first-thing-in-the-morning voice is edible.
My fingers playfully dig into her torso. “What is it with you and time?”
She squirms and giggles at my strong fingers. “I have a job that requires me to know the time.”
“Excuses,” I retort.
“Says the man-child.” Your sexy tongue, honeybee.
It’s always her sexy tongue; it gets me every time. I lean my arm out and reach the phone on the bedside table. “Eight-fifteen.”
Chelsea’s body rolls backwards, and her arms stretch out as the wave ripples over her body. It’s incredible to watch.
“I’m glad you broke into my house.” She laughs.
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think you were worth it. So where were you last night?”
She eyes me for a second before answering. “Working.”
Unconvinced, I shake my head. “Working on what exactly? You weren’t in your office,”
“How do you know that? Did you break in there too?” She walks out of the bedroom as she talks.
“I have my ways,” I call out after her.
Is she avoiding this conversation? That only means she’s hiding something. I hear the shower start and decide to join her.
Her bathroom is like a piece of history. I’m sure it’s all the original work. The white claw bath is huge. They don’t make them like that any more. The bath/shower combination has a shower curtain with a black and white picture of David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust. It makes no sense and makes me laugh. I didn’t notice this in here last time.
Chelsea’s head pokes around the edge of the curtain. “What are you sniggering at?”