Dirty (32 page)

God, she called him Derrick.

He shifted his attention to me when I moved up behind the others crowded around him.
 
“I didn’t know you had company.”

That would be the truth.
 
The girls had opted to share a taxi so that having to drive when they left wouldn’t cut into how much alcohol they consumed.

“It’s okay.”
 
I tucked my hands into my back pockets.
 
“Is there something you need?”

Dawson was momentarily distracted by Donna’s examination of the fabric content and manufacturer of his shirt, which could only be found on the label.

“I adore this shirt, Derrick.
 
It’s so hot.”

He smiled but it wasn’t his full-blown charmer. “Thanks.”

Shari walked all the way around him, visually sizing him up.
 
“You work out, Derrick?”

Jesus.
 
You’d think these gals had never seen a good looking guy.

Mary Jane scooted up close to me as Dawson discussed his workout routine with Shari, who couldn’t have cared less.
 
My guess was she, like Donna, just wanted to hear him talk.

“Wow, Jackie, he’s gorgeous,” Mary Jane whispered.
 
Her arm went around mine.
 
“I don’t see how you resist him.”

“It’s important that I keep our relationship strictly professional,” I whispered back.
 
“I need him, Mary Jane.”
 
That fatally flawed organ in my chest did another of those totally stupid little skips.

“Umm-hmm,” she murmured, understanding that I meant in a business capacity.
 
At least I hoped she did.

When I looked up Dawson was watching me though Shari and Donna were still vying for his full attention.

If I’d had any doubts whatsoever about how much trouble I was in when it came to him, the idea dissipated then and there.
 
Not once in my life, not even as a freshman losing my virginity to the football star I idolized, had I gotten so lost in anyone’s eyes.
 
He turned away, breaking the spell, and responded to something Donna said.

“He likes you a lot, Jackie,” Mary Jane whispered.
 
“The way he looks at you.”
 
I didn’t look at her, afraid she’d see the same wistful expression on my face.
 
“No,” she amended, “he doesn’t just like you.
 
He wants you.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze again until the sinking sensation had passed.
 
“No, Mary Jane.
 
Remember, who his last girlfriend was.”

She shook her head.
 
“Think about it, Jackie, the two of you almost died in each other’s arms the other night.
 
And even then neither of you could resist the temptation.”

I broke away from my dear friend who clearly meant well but had to be wrong.
 
Really, really wrong.

“Shari, didn’t you say you had a date?”
 
I had the glowing woman halfway to the door before she realized she’d moved.

“My God, Jackie, he’s incredible,” she said under her breath when we paused at the door.

I nodded.
 
“Thanks.
 
Hobbs says a guy like him will bring in a lot of new clients.”

Her eyes rounded.
 
“I can be a client.”
 
She nodded vigorously before her expression went from excited to stricken.
 
“I mean, that is, if you don’t mind.”

“If you need a PI, he’s your guy.”

She bit her lip.
 
“I’m sure I have something that needs looking into.”

“Good night, Shari.”
 
I opened the door then remembered the girls had arrived in a taxi.
 
My hopes of ending this Dawson fest plummeted.
 
“Damn.
 
We’ll have to call you a cab.”

“I’ve got the cab driver’s number!”
 
Mary Jane waved a small piece of paper.
 
“Tyrone said for us to call him whenever we’re ready to go.”

Donna looked up, clearly disheartened at the idea of leaving
Derrick
.
 
“I guess I’m ready if everyone else is.”

By the time the cab arrived Donna knew more about Dawson than I did.
 
The woman was relentless.
 
She should have been a lawyer like Shari or maybe a prosecutor.
 
Tossing me a covert wink as she left, Mary Jane promised to keep me posted on my uncle.

I waved one last time as the cab drove away, then closed the door.
 
If Dawson had come to talk about the case, I didn’t want to go there.
 
I’d promised myself some down time.
 
I needed some space to clear my head...to get right with the past as well as the plans the girls and I had hatched up.

“Your friends are...” he looked at the floor a moment “...something else.”

That was a politely adequate description.

I gathered my femme fatale attitude around me like a shield as I approached him.
 
That he watched my every move put one chink after the other in my fortitude.

“They apparently thought the same about you,” I said, taking my serve.

The lopsided grin that gave him some kind of super power over the opposite sex made an appearance.
 
“I like the shirt.”

It was an ancient, ragged tee with holes...heat rushed up my neck and across my cheeks.
 
One particular hole showed off my under breast cleavage, mainly because it was just supposed to be me and the girls tonight so I’d dispensed with the bra.
 
I crossed my arms to cover it.

“What do you want, Dawson?”

It didn’t take a lip reader to see that his mouth had formed the word “you” even before the sound had left his lips.
 
I swore silently.
 
Mary Jane’s totally off base comments had me making mountains out of molehills.

“You can’t leave me out of any aspect of this case,” he urged.
 
“I’ll be the first to admit that this is intensely personal for me, but I need to see it through.”

We’d had this conversation already.

“I said I wouldn’t leave you out.”
 
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how tired I was.
 
“You have to trust me, Dawson.”

“I guess I needed to hear you say that after you’d had time for everything to sink in.”

I felt confident his everything included my uncle’s evasive behavior but I wasn’t prepared to go into that with him.
 
My uncle was innocent until proven guilty.
 
I had to know more before I formed an opinion.
 
Suddenly exhausted, I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.
 
“Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”

He nodded, averted those amazing blue eyes that could run up and down a woman with the same intensity as a full body search.
 
“I’ll get out of your way then.”

I followed him to the door trying my level best not to stare at his ass.

I opened the door and propped against it.
 
“G’night.”

He gestured to the street.
 
“I’ll be right out there if you need me.”

I was so damned tired I barely worked up the necessary frustration to argue, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” he admitted as he glanced at the .38 in my waistband.
 
His frame filled my doorway, his entire posture giving off a whole different vibe from the words he said.
 
That I could deal with, but then he hit me below the belt.
 
His gaze dropped to my lips.

Not good.

“I’m not inviting you to stay the night, Dawson.”
 
I looked him straight in the eye so there was no miscommunication.
 
“And I’m not having sex with you, now or ever.
 
Capish
?”

A ghost of a smile appeared at one corner of that carnal mouth.
 
“
Capish
.
 
I’ll be out here anyway.”

A glutton for punishment I watched him walk away.
 
Didn’t close the door until he’d climbed into his truck.
 
What a great ass.
 
With buns of steel like that it was a miracle he didn’t set off metal detectors.

Once I had closed the door, I sagged against it and kicked myself repeatedly but I just couldn’t not do what I knew was right.

“I am the biggest fool on the planet,” I said as I stomped off to the linen closet.
 
“A complete sucker.”

With a blanket and pillow in hand, I retraced the path to the front door, then marched, barefoot, out to his truck.

He opened the door and got out just as I reached that side of the street.
 
I’d have given every cent in my checking account, which, granted, wasn’t that much but you get the idea, if he’d just stayed in the truck and rolled down the window.

The moon was full, shone down brightly enough for me to see the look of surprise on his face.
 
“Sometimes it gets chilly at night,” I offered as an excuse for my actions.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

I shoved the bundle at him to avoid contact of any sort.

“Thanks.”

I wouldn’t say
you’re welcome
.
 
It would be kind of like pretending I was glad to have done it.
 
I wasn’t glad, I was annoyed at myself.
 
So, I turned around and walked back to the house without saying another word.
 
Would have been able to put the whole idea that he was out there out of my thoughts had I not looked back one last time as I closed the door.

And he was still watching me...watching every move I made.

I locked the door and turned out all the lights but one.
 
I didn’t want him watching my silhouette as I shuffled around the house.
 
I didn’t need him out there.
 
But he was there and even with the walls separating us, I could feel his presence.

Finally, my fury kicked in, a little late.
 
I finished off the drink I’d left on the table and cleaned up my living room with nothing but the aid of the one light reaching feebly from the hall.
 
I swore once or twice as I stubbed my toe but the overall numbness provided by the JD helped tremendously.

After brushing my teeth I shucked my jeans and climbed into bed still wearing my Cowboys tee-shirt and with Shorty tucked under my pillow.
 
I needed to sleep.
 
Needed to clear all the static from my brain.

The telephone rang.

Damn.

But it could be Steven.
 
I was still praying he’d make the right decision regarding his father’s offer-a flat out
no
being the answer I considered correct.

I dragged the receiver to the pillow.
 
“Mercer.”

“Jackie, it’s Mom.”

I sat up.
 
“You okay?”
 
My heart kicked into a faster rhythm.
 
What was it with her and the sudden late night calls?

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay.
 
You sounded out of sorts when I called last time to apologize for forgetting lunch.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”
 
I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin there.
 
Actually she was the one who’d hung up in such a hurry.
 
“How about you?
 
You seemed preoccupied yourself.”
 
Translation: why’d you hang up so fast?

“I’m fine,” she said.
 
A slurping sound vibrated in my ear.

I stared at the receiver.
 
Swapped hands and stuck my finger in my ear to clear it.
 
What the hell was that?

“...just busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest,” Mom was saying.
 
“But that’s the way I like it.
 
It’s you I worry about.
 
Hobbs mentioned that you were really caught up in this case you’re working on.”

Hobbs.
 
Just one more reason to want to strangle him.
 
“Mom, I’m a private investigator.
 
This is what I—”

The rest of what I intended to say was cut off by another of those strange gurgling gulps.

“What is that?” I demanded, certain now that it was coming from my mother’s end of the line.

“Oops, sorry, dear.”
 
She cleared her throat as if she’d swallowed a whole pond of frogs.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Fine, fine,” she assured me.
 
“I’m just practicing for the next Ladies Auxiliary meeting.”

What the hell were they practicing for?
 
Hocking loogies?

“Practicing what?” I asked, unable to quash my curiosity.

“How to give a proper blow job.”

I opened my mouth to ask her to repeat the answer but somehow I couldn’t speak.

“It’s all the rage.
 
So many of the husbands can’t keep it up anymore.
 
We’re learning to give head to help out.
 
Although, this cucumber is a little larger than I’d intended,” she added thoughtfully.
 
“I’ll have to drop by the SafeWay and get a different one in the morning.
 
According to Blanche I need the practice.”

Ooooo-kay.
 
I rubbed at the damned wrinkles marring my forehead and tried to block the image of my mother fondling cucumbers in the produce department, much less giving anyone head.
 
“What about the women?” I croaked, unsure what else to say that sounded halfway intelligent.
 
“What do you girls get out of this?”