“Notes.” Delaney didn’t believe her for one second. “There were two.”
“I don’t think Helen would-”
“Shut up, Tommy,” Delaney interrupted without taking her gaze from her old enemy. “Your stupid notes don’t scare me, Helen. I’m more annoyed than anything else.” She gave one last warning before she walked away, “Stay away from me and anything that belongs to me.” Then she turned and pressed her way through the crowd, dodging and weaving, her head pounding. What if it wasn’t Helen? Impossible. Helen hated her.
She made it as far as the door before Steve caught up with her.
“Where are you going?” he asked, matching his stride to hers.
“Home. I have a headache.”
“Can’t you stay for just a little while?”
“No.”
They walked into the parking lot and stopped by Delaney’s car. “We haven’t danced yet.”
At the moment the mere thought of dancing with a man who played the front of his pants was just too disturbing for her to handle. “I don’t want to dance. I’ve had a long day and I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Want some company?”
Delaney looked into his cute surfer-boy face and chuckled silently. “Nice try.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but her hand on his chest stopped him.
“Okay.” He laughed. “Maybe next time.”
“Good night, Steve,” she said and got into her car. On the way home, Delaney stopped at the Value Rite and bought a king-sized Reese’s, a bottle of Coke, and some vanilla-scented bubble bath. Even after a hot soak, she could be in bed by ten.
I never left you any note. Helen had to be lying. Of course she wouldn’t admit to writing the notes. Not in front of Tommy.
What if she wasn’t lying? For the first time, real fear settled like a bubble in her chest, but she tried to ignore it. Delaney didn’t want to think that the author of the note could be anyone other than her old enemy. Someone she didn’t know.
When she pulled into the parking lot behind her salon, Nick’s Jeep was parked behind his business. His dark silhouette leaned against the back fender, his familiar posture relaxed. The headlights of her Miata cut across his leather jacket as he pushed himself away from the four-wheel drive.
Delaney cut the car’s engine and reached for the plastic grocery bag. “Are you following me?” she asked as she got out of the car and shut the door.
“Of course.”
“Why?” The heels of her stilettoes stirred the gravel as she started toward the stairs.
“Tell me about the notes.” He reached out and grabbed the grocery bag from her hand as she passed.
“Hey, I can carry that,” she protested even as she realized it had been a long time since a man had offered to carry anything for her. Not that Nick had offered, of course.
“Tell me about the notes.”
“How did you know about those?” He followed so close behind her up the steps, she felt his heavier tread beneath the soles of her shoes. “Did Ann Marie tell you?”
“No. I heard your conversation with Helen tonight.”
Delaney wondered how many others had heard it as well. Her breath hung in front of her face as she quickly unlocked her door. Since it would have been a total waste of breath, she didn’t bother to tell Nick he couldn’t come in. “Helen has written me a couple of little notes.” She walked into the kitchen and flipped on the light.
Nick followed, unzipping his jacket and filling the small space with his size and presence. He set her groceries on the counter. “What do they say?”
“Read for yourself.” She dug into her coat pocket and handed him the envelope she’d shoved in there earlier. “The other one said something like, ‘I’m watching you.’ ” She brushed past him and moved into the short hall leading to the bedroom.
“Have you called the sheriff?”
“No.” She hung her coat in the closet, then retraced her steps. “I can’t prove Helen is the one leaving them, although I’m certain it’s her. And besides, the notes aren’t really threatening, just annoying.” From the doorway, she watched him study the note in his hand. His txapel made him look like an exotic Basque freedom fighter.
“Where did you find this?”
“By my front door.”
“Do you still have the oth-.” He looked up and stopped in mid-sentence. His eyes widened a fraction, then his gaze swept her from hair to stilettoes. For the first time in her life, she’d rendered Nick speechless. It had taken a hooker outfit to do it.
“What’s the matter?”
“Not a thing.”
“Don’t you have a least one smart or smarmy comment?” She tried to stand perfectly still, as if she couldn’t feel his gaze touching her everywhere. But in the end she blew it and moved the boa to cover her cleavage pressed against the satin bustier.
“At least one.”
“I’m not surprised.”
He pointed to her waist. “What do you do with the cuffs?”
“You’d know better than me.”
“Wild thing,” he said, a salacious smile tilting the corners of his mouth, “I don’t need extra hardware to get the job done.”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Spare me the details of your sex life.”
“Are you sure? You might learn something good.”
She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “I doubt you know anything I’d want to learn.” Then she quickly added, “That wasn’t a challenge.”
His soft laughter filled the short distance between them. “It was a challenge, Delaney.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He took a step toward her, and she held up her hand like a traffic cop. “I don’t want to go there with you, Nick. I thought you came up here to look at the note Helen left me.”
“I did.” He stopped when her palm hit his chest. Cool leather pressed into her hand. “But you make it a real hard to think about anything but your zippers.”
“You're a big boy. Try to concentrate.” Delaney dropped her hand and moved past him to the refrigerator. “Wanna beer?”
“Sure.”
She twisted off the tops, then handed him a pumpkin beer she’d bought at the microbrewery. He looked at the designer brew as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. “It’s really good,” she assured him and took a big swallow.
Nick raised the beer to his lips, and his gray eyes watched her over the top of the bottle as he took a drink. He immediately lowered the beer and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary that’s foul.”
“I like it.” She smiled and took an extra long swig.
“Do you have any real beer?” He set both the bottle and the note on the counter.
“I have a raspberry ale.”
He looked at her as if she were suggesting he chop off his testicles. “Got a Bud?”
“Nope. But I have a Coke in that bag.” She waved her bottle toward the plastic sack then moved past Nick to the living room.
“Where did you find the first note?” he called after her.
“In the salon.” She switched on a light above the stereo, then moved to a table lamp next to the couch. “Actually, you pointed it out to me.”
“When?”
“The day you changed my locks.” She looked over her shoulder as she pulled the lamp’s chain. Nick stood in the middle of the room chugging the Coke she’d bought at the Value Rite. “Remember?”
He lowered the bottle and sucked a brown drop from his bottom lip. “Perfectly.”
Unbidden, the memory of his lips pressed to hers and the texture of his warm skin beneath her hands flooded her senses. “I was talking about the note.”
“So was I.”
No he wasn’t. “Why do you think Helen is responsible?”
Delaney sat on the couch, carefully making sure her satin skirt didn’t slide to her crotch and make her a porno star. “Who else could it be?”
He set the Coke on the coffee table and shrugged out of his jacket. “Who else would want you gone?”