Twice as Hot (10 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #General, #Romance: Modern, #Romance - Contemporary

BOOK: Twice as Hot
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He
parked in the driveway, and we made our way up the porch. Mine and Rome’s. Not
that he’d remember. Jerk.

A
tiny flicker of anger popped up and said hello. At least my hands didn’t catch
fire again. In fact, I wasn’t producing ice, wind or dirt, either, though my
emotions were in turmoil. Jealousy, love, hate, sadness, hope and helplessness
were all storming through me. Odd. Maybe my powers were on a break. Maybe they
were on the fritz again. I mean, I’d never been further away from Rome’s love
than I was now.

I
sighed. Maybe I shouldn’t have walked away from him. Maybe I should have stayed
on his ass and reminded him of why he adored me. My eyes widened with the
thought. Of course! Of course that’s what I should have done. Constant visual
and auditory reminders were the best ways to trigger his memory.

I
clapped my hands, a plan already forming. I was going to glue myself to Rome’s
side. Simple. Easy. “But probably painful, all things considered.”

“What
is?” Cody asked.

Oops.
I hadn’t meant to say that aloud. “Never mind.” Up the steps I climbed—and
stopped abruptly. A vase of pink, violet and azure orchids waited beside my
door, an emerald bow circling the amber glass. A rainbow of colors, just as I
liked. To match my living room?

I
rushed forward and crouched beside them, my eyelids closing as I inhaled
deeply. A sweet summer’s breeze wafted through me, transporting me from my
doldrums for a moment.

“Who
are those from?” Cody asked.

Rome?
A girl could hope. “Let’s see.” My hand shook as I reached for the card. Shook
even more as I unfolded the paper. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman,” I
read. “I hope you enjoy them as much as I’m enjoying you. Yours forever.”
Rocked by the force of my disappointment—Rome was
not
currently enjoying
me—I glanced up at Cody. “There’s no name.”

“Hey,
Rome could have—”

“No.
He couldn’t have. Rome would have signed his name.”

Cody
shrugged, an
I-tried
gesture. “Yeah. He’s not much for allowing others
to take credit for his work. This I know from experience.”

Part
of me had hoped Cody would lie and disagree with me. “So who could it be? The
only man I know who likes me, or rather, used to like me, was Rome.” It was
sad, really, that I couldn’t stop foolish hope from forming once more and
mixing with my disappointment. “Do you think he maybe could have remembered all
about me in the last hour and called from PSI and had these rushed over but
there wasn’t time to add his name so he—”

Cody
shook his head, his eyes kind. “Not to rain on your parade, Weather Wench, but
Rome didn’t send those. He would have been here with them. Probably naked. You
two really were disgusting.”

His
words shredded my hope to ribbons and left only that crushing despair. Rome
took what he wanted, when he wanted it. Something I loved about him. Cody was
right; if he’d had flowers to give me, he would have thrust them into my hands,
cupped my chin and raised my mouth for a bruising kiss.

At
least, that’s how I imagined it would go down. No one but my dad had ever sent
me flowers. Despite my imaginings, I knew Rome considered them “too easy.” He
liked the challenge of picking a gift that had personal meaning for the one
receiving it.

“You,
then?” I asked.

Cody’s
lips curled sweetly. “Sorry, but not me, either. One, I’m not that thoughtful.
And two, you’re not my type.”

Ouch.
Even though I’d already known, the words stung—so much rejection in so little
time. “What type am I?”

“Taken.”

Once,
that would have been accurate. Now…I know I’d thought this earlier, but some
things were worth repeating. This sucked. “Tanner could have sent them, I
guess.”

Cody
barked out a laugh. “Have you met the boy? He would have complimented you on
your pretty nipples somewhere on that card.”

True
again. Confusion growing, I gathered the vase and pushed to a stand. “My hands
are otherwise occupied, and my keys are in my purse. Can you get them?”

“My
pleasure.” After rooting through the contents of my purse for God knows how
long, muttering, “What the hell do you keep in here?” Cody finally found my
keys and opened the door.

I
sailed inside.

“You
ready to talk now?” he asked.

“Depends
on what you want to talk about.” I didn’t stop until I reached the kitchen.
Seriously, who had sent me such a lovely gift? The vase made the perfect
centerpiece for my table—was even flecked with the same cerulean crystals that
decorated my countertop.

I
stood there, admiring them for a moment. The flowers seemed to perk up as
sunlight streamed in from the windows.

My
cell phone was a few inches from the vase, I noticed. Shit. I’d left it home
again. I picked it up, flipped through the caller ID and saw that my dad had called.
So had the caterer and so had the dress shop, probably hoping to confirm my
marathon “trying on” session set for tomorrow. I sighed. I’d call them all back
later. Right now, I didn’t even know if my wedding was going to happen.

According
to Lexis, it was. With a different man. The one who’d sent me flowers?
Don’t
think like that!
Rome and I belonged together. We’d work this out. We had
to.

“What
do you think they’re doing right now?” There. I’d asked. Gotten it out in the
open.

Cody
didn’t have to inquire as to who I meant. “Rome and Lexis are talking. That’s
all.”

Good.
That was good. Was he lying? My hands fisted as I choked out, “About?”

“The
weather. Definitely about the weather.”

Now
I knew he was lying. Forcing myself to relax, I toyed with one of the flower
petals, letting the velvety softness tickle my fingertips. Maybe I didn’t know
my own strength, because several of those petals tore from their base and fell
to the table. “Think they’re kissing?”

“If
they are, Rome’s not liking it. Guaranteed. He’s a one-woman guy and you’re his
woman. He’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

I
prayed that was true, sooner rather than later. I didn’t know what I’d do if he
and Lexis made lo—had sex. Didn’t know if I could forgive, even with these
screwed-up circumstances.

“If
I were a gentleman,” Cody said, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles, “I’d
try and steal a ten-minute Frencher, make out with you a little and, if you
insisted—which I know you would, because it was clear from your interview with
Rome that you’re begging to be so sated you can’t talk—take you to bed. You
wouldn’t regret it, and it’d be great fodder for making Rome jealous.”

I
snorted, pulling my hand from his clasp. He was never going to let me live down
my comments in that interrogation room. “All that if you were a gentleman?”
What would he do if he weren’t?

Another
curl of his lips. “But I’m not, so no reason for us to discuss it and get your
hopes up. Why don’t we discuss your friend Sherridan instead?”

After
the way he’d looked at her in John’s office, part of me had seen this coming. I
faced him, crossing my arms over my chest, prepared to do what was necessary.
“Do you like high-maintenance women?”

“No.”

I’d
known that. In the months since I’d met him, I’d watched Cody interact with the
opposite sex. Those who enjoyed a good time—and nothing more—he charmed. Those
who preferred hearth and home, he avoided. “Then stay away from Sherridan.
She’s as high as they come.”

His
head tilted, and he studied me intently. Even propped his hip against the
counter as though he were settling in for a long conversation. “What makes her
high-maintenance?”

I
shrugged. “I told you she had a crappy childhood. I wasn’t lying. And that’s
all I’m going to tell you about her.”
Crappy
wasn’t the half of it. She’d
been ignored and neglected most of her life, and that had made her a needy
adult. Nothing wrong with that, I adored her, but some men couldn’t tolerate it
for long.

Cody
didn’t look properly horrified, though.

“Fine,”
I continued. “I’ll tell you something else. I can guess how a relationship
between the two of you would go down. You’d sleep with her, then walk away from
her because you can’t commit, and she’d come running to me and ask me to kill
you. Friend that I am, I wouldn’t be able to say no. Don’t try and deny it.”

His
brow furrowed. “Did I look like I was going to deny it? One, most girls want to
kill me when I’m done with them because I’m taking away their chance of being
pleasured into speechlessness again and two, I don’t even have a house because
I can’t make myself stay in one location long enough. And as for girls, I have
a three-date min-max rule.”

“Min-max?”

“No
less, no more.”

O-kay.
I’d dated a few commitment-phobes over the years, but that…wow. “Why?”

“One
date, you’re left wanting more. Don’t see the girl again, and she becomes an
obsession. The one who got away. Two dates, you begin to notice little
annoyances, but not enough to stop the sex from happening. Three dates, the
little annoyances become big annoyances and the attraction fades completely.
You can walk away a free man.”

I
stared at him for several long, drawn-out moments, then shook my head in
wonder. “God, you’re a mess.”

“But
I’m cute, so…”

Yeah.
So. I rolled my eyes. “
Anyway,
you break up with Sherridan and she’ll
think it’s because of something she did.” Normally I wouldn’t have discussed my
friend’s problems without permission from the friend herself. In this case, I
realized there wasn’t time to gain permission. I had to murder this little
attraction right away. Couldn’t have Cody veering into Obsession Land. And any
more of Sherridan’s Happy Place, and
I’d
need a vacation mind-spot. “She
won’t be able to help herself. Everything was her fault as a kid. A plant died,
and she must have overwatered it. A bad grade on her report card, and she must
not have tried hard enough. Her dad had an affair, so her attitude must have
driven him away.”

Cody’s
features softened with understanding, the silver in his eyes liquefying. “Poor
kid.”

“Ugh.
You sound
more
intrigued by her. I mean it,” I added, jabbing a
fingertip into his chest. “She’s not for you. Stay away.”

Cody
held up his hands, palms up, and laughed. “Fine. I’ll avoid her like she’s a
married nun looking for another husband to keep out of her bed. Scout’s honor.”

I
eyed him suspiciously. “Were you even a Scout?”

He
gave a mock shudder. “Hell, no. I was too busy talking the girls into playing
Show Me Yours, and I’ll Show You Mine.”

Now
I laughed. “I think Scouts do that, too. Anyway, was Sherridan the only thing
you wanted to talk to me about, you pervert? If so, I need to—”

“Nope,”
he interjected. “There’s more.”

When
he said nothing else, I prompted, “Well?”

A
sigh parted his lips. “Maybe you should sit down for this.”

No.
No, no, no. No more bad news. Instantly my affinity with the four elements made
itself known. Mist formed in front of my nose, dancing over my face like fairy
glitter. Or rather, demon dust. I plopped into the nearest seat, accidentally
slid out and thumped onto the kitchen floor. Dumb ice crystals. Why couldn’t
they have remained hidden?

“So
melodramatic.” He
tsked
under his tongue.

I
righted myself, disconcerted to realize my lungs were beginning to freeze.
“Tell me!”

“Okay,
here goes. So…while you interviewed Rome, one of our agents finally decoded a
few of the papers John’s recovery team found. Papers that were hidden in the
wallpaper, of all places. Maybe Dr. Roberts did it, since that’s his style.
Anyway, they were records of some of OASS’s prisoners. I decided not to wait
for our meeting tomorrow to inform you because I wanted you to thank me with
Sherridan’s phone number, but never mind.”

“You’re
babbling! Get on with it.”

“Right.
So the guy who stole Rome’s and my memories is known by other scrims as, big
surprise, Memory Man. Pretty Boy captured him and when PB died, Desert Gal took
over Memory Man’s
care
. You know what I mean by care, right? I mean—”

“I’m
not stupid. Continue.”

“Okay,
okay. To our knowledge, MM wasn’t part of the experiments but actually
alternated between being a prisoner and an employee. I’m guessing he didn’t
like working for them, but they threatened him in some way and got him to do
things. Then PB died, of course, and DG moved MM. We found him soon after
that.”

So
far, not too bad. For Rome, I mean. Poor Memory Man. To be a prisoner all these
years, somehow forced to comply with his captors’ wishes.
Are you really
feeling sorry for the man who helped ruin your life?
Plus, none of that was
truly verified.

“Go
on.”

Cody
nodded. “There was a mention of his
stealing
memories rather than
erasing them, as John thought.”

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