Love Notes, page 10
Mercy! Brooks is just a guy. Just an ordinary, handsome, super-hot man who has heard some pretty intimate noises from you. Ugh, why does my head always go there?
What I was trying to say was that I want Brooks to know I’m single. Why? It confuses me because I’m terrified of losing people, have never pined over anyone, and we agreed to be just friends. But my loins don’t want to be friends with him; they want more. My heart is somewhere in the middle, perking up at the sight of him but not trusting my head to make the right decision – and the only way to find out why is to get to know him.
‘I thought she was incredible,’ Brooks says to River.
‘Oh, she is,’ Riv agrees. ‘Also loud as fuck when you sleep on the wall opposite her prized grand piano.’
Brooks follows our conversation visibly, a grin on his face the whole time. ‘You have a grand piano in your apartment?’
‘Takes up half the damn living room,’ River complains like we’re an old married couple, and by the look on Brooks’s face, I’d say he’s noticed.
‘River’s one of my oldest friends. He’s more annoying younger brother than roommate.’ I defend why I even know this man, but with each word, Brooks looks more amused. He seems to be enjoying this mess I’ve created.
‘I do have a grand piano in my apartment, though. It is one of my prized possessions. I splurge on one thing, usually…’ I display my foot, clad in my leopard-print Louboutin stilettos that cost more than I’m willing to admit. Brooks nods with approval at the sight of them. ‘But when I saw someone on Facebook Marketplace with an 1865 Collard & Collard grand piano practically giving it away—’
‘Pfft, giving, right… for thousands of dollars.’ Riv throws in the truth.
‘—I couldn’t resist.’
‘How many instruments do you play?’ Brooks asks curiously.
‘Five,’ I reply before doing the shot River’s forcing on me. ‘My room looks like a music store.’
‘Looks like you guys are good here,’ River says. He leans into me but doesn’t lower his voice at all. ‘Call me if ya need me, and don’t do any yankin’ of his bacon if ya know what I mean…’
‘Oh my God, go away,’ I beg. As he walks away, Brooks and I watch him. Me hoping he doesn’t turn around and come back and Brooks like he’s trying to figure out what just happened.
‘He’s, uh…’ He points in River’s direction.
‘The most annoying boy in all the land?’ I finish his sentence. ‘Yes.’
He chuckles. I’m glad someone is enjoying this because I’ve just realized the fluttering in my chest is back, and yet again, he’s not got a guitar hanging around his neck. Kick in soon, tequila; I need you.
‘Your complicated job is at rest this evening?’ I ask as I slide onto the barstool next to him like I’m not as nervous as I am.
‘I go in at midnight tonight, but things are on track for now. Unfortunately, that means I can’t drink with you. But can I buy you one? Or maybe another shot?’ He eyes the empty glass I’ve set on the bar in front of me.
‘Pick your poison, handsome. I’ll drink whatever.’
I hear the words as they roll off my tongue. My usual Mae West man-hunting impersonation has surfaced, and that sounded flirty as hell. Shit, did I just call him handsome? What am I doing? Flirting? That’s the opposite of what I’m supposed to be doing.
I glance over at him. Based on the smile growing on his face I’d say yes it happened, and no, he didn’t hate it.
He orders himself water, and for me, he goes with a Bellini. The last guy who bought me a drink (that wasn’t River just now) ordered a Buttery Nipple. There’s nothing subtle about that. Brooks seems too grown-up and classy to act like my usual you’re-only-temporary type. And I like it?
‘You play five instruments fluently?’ Brooks asks.
I nod. ‘I started young on the ukulele, then moved to the violin, and it spiraled from there. I wanted to play all the instruments because music cleared the fog in my head. Do you only play the guitar?’
‘No, I’m also a master of “Chopsticks” on the piano,’ he says proudly.
I laugh. ‘Maybe we should duel?’
‘I’d like that, but let’s leave the pianos out of it,’ he says with a wink.
Thank God River’s here. I glance down the bar at him and notice he’s legit keeping an eye on me like I asked. Whew. There’s no way he’ll let my loins do the talking, so words better come from somewhere else fast.
‘How was your day?’
Could I ask a more platonic question? Here he is flirting with me, and I’m asking about his day like I’m his fifties wife with dinner on the table.
‘Good. It’s getting better by the minute, if I’m honest.’ He taps his water to my drink like he’s toasting the evening.
‘Are you always this flirty?’ I ask, putting it out there. Might as well acknowledge it before we start talking about the weather in sexual innuendos.
‘Not even a little bit. You seem to bring it out in me. Since we agreed on honesty last time we met up, I’m going to lay this on the table even though I probably shouldn’t.’ He pauses, looking me in the eyes and taking a deep breath. ‘I don’t think I can forget our past and focus on just being friends, can you?’ He leans into me as he speaks, then moves back into his space and side-eyes me. His golden-brown eyes filled with specks of honey-colored gold sparkle under the lighting. I suddenly remember why he was addicting. Smoldering looks like this one are hard to say no to.
‘Let’s just say, pretty much every night since I ran into you at Oz’s, I fall asleep replaying our past and wondering why things ended. Does that answer your question?’
‘It does indeed,’ he says. ‘Douchebag move on my part. My life blew up. I apologize. Since we’re on the same page now, how should we play this more-than-friends thing out?’
‘Well, that depends on whether you’re interested in just the benefits side or something more?’
‘I’m interested in getting to know you.’
‘But how?’ I ask, sipping my Bellini. Oh, sweet sparkling peaches, this is good.
‘With your clothes on, hopefully. Remember the fate thing we touched on recently?’
‘Yeah…’
‘My ex is a big believer – me not so much. But then came you, and things seem to be falling into place without either of us trying.’ He pauses, smiling at me nervously. It’s cute as hell. ‘What I’m trying to say is, I’ve also been staring at my ceiling, thinking of the past, and I wonder if our timing was off before?’
My heart flatlines, then with the sudden appearance of his hand on my lower back as he leans into me, it jolts back to life, and the fluttering invades my chest again. Did he just say our timing was off?
‘Would you be totally against me asking you out?’ He talks directly into my ear – his voice is low and growly but in the best way, sending an unexpected chill down my spine.
‘Out?’ Somehow the one word comes out wobbly, like I’m speaking a foreign language.
‘Go on a date with me, Mercy. You know you want to.’
Damn it, my answer to this, without a doubt, would usually be no. But he’s right. I want to. I also want to play with him. Make him think my answer is no. You know, play hard to get.
Instead, my mouth says, ‘I do want to.’
‘Really?’
What? He seemed so sure of himself before. Now he’s surprised I said yes.
‘Don’t act so shocked. I let ya see me naked.’
He grins wide. ‘Yes, you have.’
‘I can see you picturing it, and I hate to burst your bubble, but I feel like I should warn you I don’t usually date. The whole heartless thing.’
‘Then you’ve befriended the perfect person because I’m a pro. I’ll teach you.’ He glances at the time on his phone and frowns. ‘Unfortunately, I’ve got to get ready for work. But I’ll text you the details. Sound good?’
‘Sounds great. You know you could have skipped tonight if you were busy?’
‘Nah,’ he says. ‘There’s no way my heart would have let me skip tonight.’ He rests his hand on my thigh, and I suck in my breath involuntarily. Did him touching me feel like this before? All tingly and wonderful? ‘I’m glad I came tonight because now I’ve got something perfect to think about while I work.’
My mind comes back once his hand has been removed from my thigh. ‘You’re going to think of me on shift – sounds dirty; I like it.’
He stands from his barstool, hands the bartender a twenty, then kisses my cheek. ‘I like how you say anything you want. Talk soon?’
‘Yeah,’ I say half breathlessly, like he just had his tongue in my mouth. ‘We’ll talk soon.’ I try to pull it together but don’t sound as casually flirtatious as I want. More take-me-now flirty.
Once he’s gone, like a can of Raid has fallen over me, the butterflies die off quickly.
‘Dumped ya already, huh? Rough,’ River says, startling me that he’s so close. ‘Barkeep! Two shots of tequila, stat!’ He waves his empty shot glass in the air.
‘Will you stop calling bartenders “barkeep”? It’s the twenty-first century, you lunatic. We’re not hanging out with Billy the Kid in the Old West.’
‘But it would be cool if we were.’
I roll my eyes. ‘He asked me out,’ I say, finishing the Bellini in one swallow. ‘Like on a date.’
Riv looks towards the front door, then back at me. ‘Why are you still here, then?’
‘Not tonight. Later.’
‘Oh, booty call, gotcha.’
I shake my head until he gets it.
‘You mean like on an actual date where you plan it out, go into public with your manners on high, and not just visit his apartment under the dark of night and exit before sunrise?’
‘You’re giving me a headache with all the eye-rolling I need to do around you. But yes, exactly like that.’
‘Huh,’ Riv mumbles as he sits on the stool Brooks was just on. ‘Someone wants to date you. I want to say I knew this day would come but—’
‘I don’t know how to date, Riv,’ I interrupt him.
‘What? You go out with guys all the time.’
‘And never give them my real name or number. They’re just giant meat puppets that I use to make myself feel important when my heart and head tell me I’m not. What I do is not date. How do I do this?’
‘Show up and don’t be weird? And maybe pay for your half? I always appreciate it when women don’t expect me to pay.’
‘You appreciate when no one expects you to pay,’ I remind him.
‘True.’
I down the shot the bartender just set in front of me then bury my face into my hands. ‘Why is this happening? Since when do I want to date a man? I thought I never wanted this, and now I’m dreaming of happy-ever-afters, while my estranged father haunts me from prison via a possible demonic letter that’s living in my purse.’
‘You still haven’t read that thing?’ Riv asks, surprise on his face. ‘Are you serious?’ He sets his empty shot glass in front of him. ‘You actually like this guy?’
I lift a single shoulder. ‘I think I do.’
10
BROOKS
I’m at the station on a paperwork day when my phone rings, and I realize I left it sitting on Andrews’s desk across from me when I went for my thirteenth cup of coffee. Being in the office is rough, but coffee helps me get through it.
‘Yeah?’ Andrews answers before I can get to it. ‘Who? He’s here but call him on his phone, would ya? I ain’t his secretary.’ Momentarily he listens to the caller on the other end before pulling the phone from his head and looking it over with a scowl. ‘Hang on,’ he barks to the caller with his usually grumpy growl. ‘Stop leaving your shit on my desk, Hudson.’ He lobs the phone my way where, luckily, I catch it.
‘Sorry, Dad, it won’t happen again,’ I joke.
He hates paperwork days more than I do, but I’ve got a secret weapon to turn his mood around. I open my bottom desk drawer, pull out a six-pack of raspberry-filled powdered Hostess donuts and slide them his way as a peace offering. His eyes meet mine, the permanent scowl still on his face and, without losing eye contact, he snatches the donuts from me.
‘Hello?’ I say into my phone.
‘He seems like a real sweetheart. I bet he’s loads of fun at parties,’ the voice says. ‘Hi, it’s Mercy.’ Her voice sends an instant smile to my face.
I spin in my chair so I’m facing away from Andrews. It’s been a few days since I saw her. I didn’t expect her to call me out of the blue like this. We’ve been texting for days, so it’s not a total surprise to hear from her, but the last thing I need is Andrews giving me shit about this later. Our desks are shoved together, so I have to stare at his mean old mug anytime we’re here. He loves to listen in on my calls and interrogate me later.
‘Mercy, uh – what’s up?’
‘Truthfully, this is as stupid as it gets, but I wanted to call and say thank you for coming the other night. So many times in my life, I’ve looked around the room as I performed and had no one there for me. It meant a lot. And for the drink. I think Bellinis might be my new fave.’
‘There’s nothing stupid about that.’
‘Well, that’s because I haven’t finished yet. Also, you haven’t told me when or where this upcoming date is, and I’m making it a much bigger deal in my head than it needs to be, so I’m incredibly nervous. Can you do that soon?’
I bite my lips together to rein in the growing grin. ‘You’re nervous about going on a date with me?’
She chuckles. ‘You weren’t supposed to know that. But since I’m freaking out over this, yes, I’m a little nervous.’
‘And you need me to hurry up and officially plan this so you can relax?’
‘Plus, decide what to wear. I am a woman, so that’s complicated as it is.’
‘You are unlike any woman I’ve ever dated.’
‘But… you secretly like it?’ she asks.
‘It’s no secret. If I turn around right now, my partner will see the stupid grin on my face. I’ll have to explain, and I’d rather not.’ In the background, I hear what sounds like a toilet flush. ‘Where are you?’
‘A funeral for a man I don’t know, but to make this call, I snuck away to the bathroom ’cause I had to pee, and I figured two birds, one stone. Is it too soon for me to be peeing on the phone with you?’
I burst out a laugh. ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.’
‘Ooh,’ she says, the sound of a faucet in the background. ‘That’s way better than “Lemon, Lemon, Lemon”.’
‘You’ll distract me at work with memories like those,’ I say, partially under my breath.
‘You’re at work? By the way, what do you do? I still don’t know.’
‘That sounds like a date conversation to me.’
‘This top-secret job better be good, or I’ll be disappointed. I’m expecting something big.’
‘I’m a stripper,’ I tell her. ‘One of those Chippendale guys.’
‘Oh yeah? You guys do shows at noon?’
I should have known she’d see through that one. We talk for a few more minutes until Andrews starts repeating my responses in a high-pitched giggly voice between inhaling donuts, and I realize he’s heard too much, and I’ll never live this down.
‘It’s like watching Samanthia talk to her boyfriend. Who’s the girl?’ he asks, batting his eyes after I set my phone on my desk.
Samanthia is his sixteen-year-old daughter. Offensive.
Andrews is a big guy. Thick graying hair. A flavor-saver of a mustache usually sporting some kind of donut paraphernalia. He’s in his late sixties and looks it. He’s always been a say-it-like-it-is guy, but now he’s also that old man in the store, loudly complaining about the selection of pastries they’re carrying.
‘Just a woman I know, and that’s the only question I’m answering.’
‘A woman you know or a woman you know…?’ He waggles his eyebrows, grinning like the dirty old man he can be.
‘I said no more questions.’
‘Is she pretty?’
‘Very.’
He chuckles. ‘God, you’re easy,’ he says. ‘No more questions, then you immediately answer one.’ He’s leaning back in his chair, a napkin unfolded and tucked into the top of his shirt while he scarfs down the last donut from the box I distracted him with.
‘Hudson!’ Seiver yells it from his office.
Andrews laughs. It amuses him greatly that I’m the lead now. The being yelled at for ridiculous reasons while he listens in is what he’s waited his whole career for. Someone else is the lead, and he’s the ‘partner’.
I drop my head, wondering what Seiver will spit poison over this time.
‘Yeah?’ I ask, now standing in his doorway.
‘Sit down,’ he orders.
I take my time, flip my hat on backward and settle in the chair facing his desk until I’m comfortable, and when I finally make eye contact, he’s got his arms crossed over his chest and a glare that might set me on fire.
‘Ya comfy there, muffin?’
I nod proudly. I feel like it’s my job to annoy him a little bit. This career is stressful as fuck, so if I can lighten the mood, I’m going to.
‘Please tell me you don’t work with your hat like that? You look like you’re having a mid-life crisis.’
Thoroughly offended, I flip it forward again. ‘Did you need to say something, or is this just have-a-go-at-Brooks hour?’
‘I’ve got shit to say.’
‘Then say it.’
Seiver rolls his eyes. ‘I got a guy at the state pen who says he’s gathered some information we might be interested in about one of your cases. I promised myself I’d never deal with this man again, so I’m giving it to you.’
‘What case?’
‘A guy that rivals Dominic. He’s been in for a while, so he may have inside information. I’ve dealt with him before, and I’ve no doubt he’s up to his eyeballs in shady prison shit. He claims he knows about the head guy you’re looking for, and he’ll talk, with conditions.’
‘What conditions?’
