Seismic Crimes, page 7
“Lift.”
With her hands on the hood, she lifted her hips. Donovan tugged the cotton down her legs, depositing it with her shoes. With his gaze on her, he pinched the fabric of her boy shorts. She pushed her hips off the hood again, and he peeled away her underwear.
Donovan caressed her bare legs with his hands and eased her thighs apart, exposing her center, which was level with his eyes. Since she was open in front of him, he took the opportunity to commit her flesh to memory. His gaze flipped up to hers. For several seconds, they exchanged intimacy with a stare.
He stepped up the tire and shifted onto the bumper. With his hands on Beth’s hips, he moved her higher. When she was in the middle of the hood, he climbed onto it, planted his knees in-between her legs, and hooked his hands above her head.
He gazed into her eyes. With the heat of lust swirling between her lashes, they reminded him of warm whiskey. “Comfortable?”
“Very.”
“Good.” He unzipped his pants slowly, unleashing his manhood. “Hold onto me.” Beth bit her bottom lip as she hooked her legs around his hips and secured her arms around his neck. Seeing her lips caught between her teeth sent a rush of liquid fire through his body. He couldn’t contain himself anymore. He drove into Beth and rode her more vigorously than he had driven his truck. He didn’t care if they dented the hood. It would be well worth it.
Beth’s cries and his groans filled the small garage. Every noise she made urged him to go faster, harder. Being inside her felt exquisite; he couldn’t get enough of her. Nor would he ever.
He felt himself on the verge of release, but he wouldn’t allow himself to leave Beth behind.
Stiffening his body, clenching his teeth, he plunged harder, hitting her deeper.
The instant she climaxed, he let go.
Chapter Nine
The next day, Beth got a call from her insurance company and received a rude awakening. Her homeowner’s insurance didn’t cover everything she needed it to, such as flood damage and mold. What they were giving her wasn’t enough to rebuild. Her only option was to demolish the house and put the land up for sale. With the money from the land, she would have enough to relocate as soon as the market stabilized.
With a heavy heart, she looked up a realtor to help her with the details, and Donovan accompanied her to the realtor’s office. While she talked to the front desk receptionist, he studied the brochures on the wall.
“Hi, I need a realtor,” she said.
“Is there a specific realtor you want?” The receptionist was an older woman with glasses and gray roots. She smelled like stale cigarettes and dead roses. And she didn’t seem happy to see Beth.
“Not really, just someone who deals with land. Hurricane Sabrina damaged my house, so it’s set to be demolished, and I’ll be putting the land up for sale.”
Beneath her red-rimmed glasses, the woman’s gaze lifted and settled over Beth’s shoulder.
Beth frowned but continued to talk. “It’s a decent sized lot that can support a large house, a swimming pool, and still have enough room for children to play in the backyard.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh my God!”
Her sudden exclamation startled Beth. “What?”
“It’s the Hurricane Killer,” she whispered.
Beth blinked. “Who?”
“He’s behind you,” she hissed.
Beth turned but the only other person in the office was Donovan. Then it hit her. The news bulletin! Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who’d seen it. She whirled back around. “No, no, no, you don’t understand. He’s not a killer.” She peered back at him in panic.
Donovan was staring at her now, his eyebrows raised. He took a step toward her, which prompted the woman to scream. She reached under her desk and brought out a pink handgun.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Beth shifted into the line of fire. “He’s not a killer.”
“Get out of the way, Beth.” Donovan grabbed her arm to move her, but she stood firm.
“Don’t come any closer!” The woman waved her gun in the air. “I’m calling the cops.”
Beth put up her hands, hoping to calm the woman before she could put a hole in the wall, or in her head. “That’s not necessary. He’s not dangerous.”
“Beth, shut up.” Donovan’s voice was a growl of irritation. “Let her call the cops.”
Beth turned and watched Donovan set a chair in the center of the small lounge and sit down. Her mouth fell open. “What are you doing?”
Donovan stretched out his legs and crossed his arms. “Waiting.”
Beth couldn’t stop the woman from calling the cops no matter what she said, so she gave up and leaned against the counter, keeping the gun and Donovan in her line of sight at all times.
Ten minutes later, Officer Burnett sauntered into the building. He grinned at them. “I hear there’s a killer in here.”
Donovan stood. “That would be me.”
The two men shook hands, and the woman balked in disgust. Beth only smiled.
“Ma’am.” Burnett went to the woman behind the counter. “There’s been a mistake. The report you saw a month ago was false. Donovan Goldwyn here is a model citizen, not a killer.”
His eyes lowered, and he pointed to her weapon, which she still pointed at Donovan. “Do you have a permit for that?”
The woman’s face fell. She sputtered. “Uh…well…um…no.”
“I’ll be taking that, ma’am.” Burnett held out his hand.
Mumbling a few curses, the woman gave him her gun.
“Thank you.” Burnett turned to Beth and Donovan. “I’ll contact people I know at the local news stations and ask them to put out a retraction on the report they aired about Donovan being a murder suspect.”
“That would be nice,” Donovan said.
“And, Goldwyn,” Burnett added under his breath, “don’t scare any more old ladies.”
Stifling a laugh, Beth faced the flabbergasted woman. “Now about that realtor.”
****
Beth sat on the couch with Donovan as they watched the evening news. Donovan’s picture stared back at them from the screen. A male reporter explained that authorities had uncovered evidence clearing Donovan of his brother’s murder and he was no longer a person of interest. It lasted a minute, but it was enough.
“Well, you’re no longer a killer,” Beth said.
She felt Donovan laugh silently beside her.
“That’s always good to know,” he said.
Beth grinned. “I agree.” She leaned into his chest as relief filled her. Being named a suspect in his brother’s murder had been hard on Donovan. Now that he was free of all suspicion, he could heal.
Chapter Ten
Thanksgiving morning, Donovan woke to the smell of coffee and French toast, the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon was having a love affair with the fragrance of Colombian coffee beans. Beth made breakfast in his high school basketball jersey with the Thanksgiving Day parade on in the background.
Since neither of them had to slave over a feast, Donovan watched the football game with Beth, and he was pleased to learn she was fluent in the ways of football. She knew what first down meant, understood a referee’s call, and knew the main players by name.
“I had no idea you were a fan,” he said during halftime.
“Yup,” she said as she took a swig of soda. “I had to find some way to bond with my dad, being an only child and all. I wasn’t interested in fixing up cars, which in hindsight would’ve saved me a lot of money on my piece of crap car. So, I started to watch football with him when I was eight. I fell in love with the game.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Donovan thought it was amazing.
When it was time to eat, they put together a simple meal and sat down to eat. In the middle of the table were two cornish hens, a box of turkey dressing, a can of cranberry sauce, and instant potatoes with a glob of garlic butter to make up for the bland taste. It might’ve been simple, but it was better than what Donovan did last year when he ordered Chinese takeout.
“I know it’s a bit of a cliché,” Beth said. “And that this isn’t exactly a time to be celebrating considering everything that’s happened, but are you thankful for anything?”
Donovan looked into her eyes from across the small table. “Actually, I am thankful for something…you.”
She blinked at him. “What?” Her voice was soft.
“Beth, I would either be dead or in jail right now if it weren’t for you. You’re what I’m thankful for.”
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Oh.”
“Your turn. What are you thankful for?”
“Well…” She tilted her head in contemplation. A slow smile captured her face. “Good sex!”
Donovan barked with laughter. “I think we both can be thankful for that.”
“All humor aside,” she continued, “I’m thankful that fate had you driving through my neighborhood. I’m even thankful for Hurricane Sabrina. She shoved your car into that tree because she knew we needed each other.”
Donovan picked up her hand, kissed her knuckles. “Amen.”
They finished the night with a game of poker. Donovan wanted another chance to beat Beth since Hurricane Sabrina interrupted their last game by ripping off the roof to Beth’s house. This time Starburst candy was at stake. An hour later, Beth folded after losing three-fourths of her candy. “It’s not fair! You have the best poker face in the world.”
“I can make it up to you.”
She dropped her chin in her hand, batted her lashes. “Oh, yeah? How?”
Donovan scooped her out of her chair and carried her into his bedroom.
****
For Christmas, they bought two tickets to Grand Rapids, Michigan. Their trip would begin a week before Christmas, and they’d leave two days after. The morning of their departure flight from Orlando, Donovan stood at the apartment door next to his luggage. When Beth came toward him with her suitcase in hand, he frowned.
Beth stopped short. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His eyes lowered to her suitcase. “It’s just…are you sure about spending Christmas with my mom and grandma?”
Her face fell. “Do you not want me to go?”
“No. I mean, yes, I do.” He sighed, raked his hands through his hair. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured to go for my sake. You don’t have to go. You’re not obligated.”
“No, I’m not obligated, but since my parents passed away, my Christmases have been pathetic. Last year, I didn’t even have a Christmas tree. I went to one holiday party and then watched all The Godfather movies by myself. I’m happy to go. Your mom and grandma are wonderful women, and I want to spend more time with them.” Her smile doubled. “Besides, I’ve never seen snow before.”
Relieved, Donovan drove to the Orlando International Airport, which was close to bursting at the seams. Toddlers throwing inopportune tantrums, children sneaking away from their frazzled parents, and groups of Asian tourists planning to hit the amusement parks reminded Donovan why he hated airports. Holiday travelers going home for Christmas elbowed each other and hurried to catch their flights with their luggage rolling behind them. Security personnel watched everyone, and airport employees helped frustrated people who couldn’t find their luggage or their departure gate.
At the security checkpoint, they removed their shoes, had their carryon bags scanned, and stepped through metal detectors. With a firm grip on Beth’s hand and the other on his duffel bag, Donovan navigated through the flood of bodies to the gate where the other passengers for the flight to Michigan were already accumulating. He dropped into a chair with a grunt. Beth sat next to him. They were thirty minutes early. Thankfully, the small talk Beth created helped the time pass quicker than if he were there alone, glaring at the noisy occupants around him and willing the second hand to tick faster.
On the plane, Beth huddled next to the window, and Donovan stretched out near the aisle. After the flight attendant gave all the redundant in-flight instructions, the plane taxied onto the airstrip and picked up speed, pushing everyone into their seats. The plane lifted off the asphalt, tipping them back. Donovan turned his head to the window where Beth stared eagerly, watching the highways, cars, and houses shrink, becoming toy-like as the land below turned into puzzle pieces. The plane soon burst through the clouds and glided above white formations that reminded Donovan of cotton balls. Higher up, the clouds stretched into wispy sheets.
Beth faced him with a smile. Her eyes shone with wonderment. “I love takeoffs.”
Donovan couldn’t stop his own smile from forming. “I can tell.” He put on his headphones and settled back with Beth to watch a Christmas movie.
Their flight bumped to the ground a few hours after takeoff. They were walking toward the front of the airport when Beth pulled him to a stop.
Donovan frowned at her, noting how she chewed on her bottom lip. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid your mom’s not going to like me.”
“Beth, she already met you. When I bought our tickets and told her you were coming, she squealed into the phone.”
“Squealed?”
“Yeah, you know the sound women make when they’re excited? It nearly burst my eardrum.”
Beth laughed, but her smile turned into a frown. “Then why did you tell me I didn’t have to come?”
He brushed his finger along her jaw. “Because I wanted it to be your choice.”
Leaning into him, she touched her lips to his. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” She took his hand. “I feel better now. Let’s go.”
Beth took a step, but Donovan didn’t move. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a familiar figure. His head whipped around to the large hallway leading travelers away from baggage claim and deeper into the airport. A shadow disappeared behind the wall.
“Stay here,” he said. “Don’t move!” He dropped his duffel bag and jogged toward the hall. Flying around the corner, he came face to face with nothing. The hall was empty. He ran to the other end and searched the expansive area where people poured in from all directions. His eyes jumped from person to person, but he couldn’t see anyone retreating with the build of David Buckland. He could’ve sworn he had seen Buck lurking behind the wall, staring at him and Beth. With a shake of his head, he berated his imagination.
Beth waited for him exactly where he’d left her. She hadn’t moved an inch. When he grew closer, he recognized concern in her eyes. Her eyebrows were low and pinched together. She hadn’t seen Buck, didn’t understand his reaction, or his order for her to stay put. But she did what he asked her because she trusted him. “What’s wrong?”
He took his duffle bag from her. “I thought I saw someone.”
“Who?”
He let out a breath to release the pent-up tension that had knotted his stomach into coils. The tension remained. “Buck.”
Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Why would Buck be here? If he were in Michigan, he sure wouldn’t be in an airport unless he had one hell of a good disguise. Maybe you thought you saw him because he’s on your mind all the time.” She took his free hand. “Forget about him, okay? Burnett and Chief Cormac are doing everything they can to find him, and they aren’t going to stop because you’re out of the state.”
She was right, but he couldn’t dampen his urge to call Burnett and demand updates, despite the fact he’d called before boarding the plane and they weren’t any closer to finding Buck.
“Let’s go,” Beth said, gently tugging his hand. “Your mom and grandma are waiting for us.”
Finding his mom and grandma wasn’t hard. Grandma was the only one wearing a big red sweater with a Christmas tree in the center, a matching skirt, and black tights. Christmas was her favorite time of the year and she liked everyone to know it.
His mom stood beside her. “Donovan!”
He lifted her feet off the floor in a hug, then bent down to embrace his grandma and kiss her cheek. Seeing them again, and in different circumstances, filled him with happiness. Instead of tears, their eyes gleamed with the joy of the season. Their bodies weren’t shuddering with silent grief, but were light with cheer. Warmth spread through him as he watched Beth exchange hugs with them.
“Oh, Beth, we’re so happy you came,” his mom said. “I brought cookies. They’re in the car.”
“I can never pass up cookies,” Beth said.
In the backseat of his mom’s van, she cracked open a red and gold tin canister. The aroma of the snowball cookies Donovan grew up eating wafted out and touched his nose. Beth selected a cookie on top, bit into it, and let out a content moan. “These cookies are delicious.”
“I’ll have to give you the recipe. They’re easy to make,” his mom said.
“That would be great. Thank you.”
Grandma turned in her seat and held out a thermos. “Don’t forget the hot chocolate. It’s the real stuff, too, none of that instant crap from a package.”
Donovan took the thermos, unscrewed the cap, and gave it to Beth. She took a sip. “Wow. Can I take the two of you home with me?”
Laughter filled the van.
Seeing Beth getting along so well with the two other women he loved brought up a surge of emotions he couldn’t tamp down. Didn’t want to tamp down. As it consumed him, he had the urge to show her how much she meant to him. And he didn’t care who saw it either.
Beth took another bite of a snowball cookie. Before she could lick away the dusting of powdered sugar on her lips, he caught her chin with his fingers and molded his mouth to hers. The powdered sugar melted and the sweetness touched his tongue. He deepened the kiss, drawing out the flavors of her mouth and the lingering flavors of the cookie. When the last of the soft, white powder was gone, he ended the kiss with a gentle nibble of her bottom lip.
