Love Notes, page 22
‘Yeah. Protect you, date you, woo you. I want to do all of it.’
She nods slowly, glancing out at the city while she thinks.
‘You’re really not scared of this?’ she asks. ‘What if a drug-dealing murderer is in my blood?’
‘I don’t think that’s genetically passed down.’ I pull her hand to my lips, her gaze meeting mine. ‘My main concern – is that you come out of this OK.’
She’s quiet for a long time before leaning forward with me and sliding her hand over my thigh to meet mine. ‘Before I become attached to you and admit I feel the same, I need to see Nick.’
‘You want to see him?’
‘I have to. I’ve got some demons I need to give back to him.’
27
MERCY
My alarm goes off, pissing me off immediately. I reach for my phone but realize an arm around me is holding me back. I glance over at Brooks, sleeping soundly next to me. My God, he’s cute. He came home with me last night. Since Mother Nature is still knocking on my door, we lay down to watch another episode of The Winchesters in my room, and now we’re waking up together. I glance under the covers at myself, fully clothed. Whew. Nervously I glance over at him. He’s still wearing everything but his shoes.
I veer out of his arms, grab my phone from my purse on the floor, and shut off the alarm.
‘What time is it?’ he asks groggily, dragging a hand down his face.
‘Eight.’
He opens his eyes as I lie back down next to him, now facing him. ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he says with a half-awake grin, wrapping his arms around me.
‘Did we literally sleep together last night?’
Brooks glances at himself, then at me. ‘Looks that way.’
‘I’ve never stayed all night with a guy and woken up still fully clothed.’
‘Welcome to marriage.’
I laugh. ‘It couldn’t have been all bad,’ I say, tracing the tattoos down his arm with my fingertips. ‘You stayed for eleven years.’
‘True,’ he says, sliding a hand over my waist and pulling me closer to him. ‘But this is better.’
‘Most guys wouldn’t have stayed the night without getting laid.’
‘’Tis my first time as a single dude.’ His voice is soft and sleepy, and it’s doing things to my insides that I like.
‘We just popped one another’s fully clothed sleepover cherries.’
‘I think we did,’ he says with a laugh. His fingers brush against my hand as he moves them up my arm to my neck. ‘That’s gotta mean something, right?’
‘Like what?’ I ask slowly, hoping he kisses me, but kind of not because of morning breath.
His thumb grazes my jawline, sending sparks through me. ‘I like you way more than I expected to, and every time I look at you, that grows a little more.’
‘Is that all that grows?’
He laughs softly, pulling me closer. ‘I think you know it’s not.’
‘Ah… yes, I see now,’ I say, feeling something against me, and I’m pretty sure it’s not like.
‘Merc, I’m falling so hard I’m starting to worry you’re close to dumping me. I’ve never worried about that before because I never saw it coming.’
I shake my head. ‘I’ve no idea why women are dumping you. You’re the perfect man.’
‘I see you exactly the same way.’
‘I am the perfect man, aren’t I?’ I joke.
Right then, he kisses me sweetly and almost innocently. Afterward, he kisses my forehead and rolls over, sitting up on my bed and grabbing his boots, reminding me that date three never made it to third base, and now it’s over. But I’m not unhappy?
‘An 8 a.m. alarm. You got somewhere to be this morning?’ he asks.
I glance at my phone again. Eight ten. ‘Yeah, I have lessons starting at nine, then Dylan and I have a performance as Violated tonight.’
‘Oh yeah?’ he asks, glancing at me over his shoulder, seemingly interested.
‘Yeah,’ I confirm, leaving my bed and walking into my closet, his eyes on me the whole time. Which is a tad embarrassing considering I’m wearing rainbow leggings, a T-shirt that says How About No, and zero bra. My C-size girls need a bra at all times. ‘I can leave you tickets at will-call if you want to come?’
He stands, his boots now tied on his feet. He grabs the black Nike baseball cap off the top of my lamp where he put it to bed last night. I watch as he slips it on his head backward before walking my way.
‘Oh, no, mister. Ya can’t do that.’
‘What?’ he asks, slipping his hands around my waist from behind me.
‘Your hat.’
‘What about it?’
‘When you wear it like that, I hear Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” playing in my head.’
‘Am I the Ol’ Dirty Bastard?’
‘Only if we can re-title you as the Old Dirty Bastard I Want to Do.’
He cocks his head like he’s considering it. ‘I don’t hate the idea.’ He glances around the closet we’re now standing in, his eyes stopping on my shoe wall. ‘Wow…’ He steps away from me. ‘We may have more in common than you think. You like heels?’
‘Do you?’ I ask, lifting an eyebrow.
‘Hats,’ he says. ‘Ball caps are my thing; I’ve easily got a dozen hanging in perfect rows in my closet.’
‘You have a hat wall?’
‘It’s not as eye-catching as your shoe wall.’
‘Now I’m excited to see it,’ I say, flipping through my clothes.
‘Me too,’ he says seductively. ‘Are we choosing today’s pair?’
‘We?’ I ask, but his attention is now on my shoes. ‘Do you want to pick my shoes today, Brooks?’
‘I do. I want to pick your shoes today. Is that weird?’ he asks, rubbing his ink-covered hands in front of his chest with anticipation.
‘First a foot rub in the hot tub, now you’re drooling over picking my shoes. I think you might have a foot fetish.’
‘The only feet I fetishize are the ones attached to this smoking hot violinist I met recently.’
‘So, the ones from the hot tub?’
He turns to me, squinting one eye open, a smile that screams he’s messing with me. ‘Was that you?’
‘Ha ha… yes, you may pick my shoes.’ I pull a dress from the closet, holding it in front of me. ‘They must either match or completely outstage this. Those are the two shoe rules.’
‘Can do…’ Brooks scans the wall, taking his time, occasionally referencing the dress I’m still holding. ‘These.’ He picks up a pair and holds them like they’re made of diamonds. ‘Yeah?’
The dress he’s choosing shoes for is a periwinkle blue wrap dress with an irregular ruffle hemline that hits just below my knees in the back but shows them off in the front. The shoes I’m looking at are pastel floral-print peep-toe stilettos. Not only does the blue in them match the dress perfectly, but I haven’t worn these in forever.
‘Excellent choice, good sir. If you come to my show tonight, you’ll see them in action.’
‘I work noon to midnight, but I could probably escape for a long lunch if nothing major happens. What time is it?’
‘Eight. Don’t feel like you have to come if you’re busy. I just thought I’d extend the invitation.’
‘I want to come. In so many ways,’ he says with a laugh that makes his cheeks pink. ‘I threw that last part in just to appease your dirty mind, which I love.’
‘Dirty Mercy appreciates that.’
‘I’ll do my best to be there tonight.’
The first time the Matthews family showed up to one of my performances, I cried. My brother and Carlos were there too, and Penny made a massive deal out of it. I was following in her musically talented footsteps. Kind of. But that wasn’t what it was for me. They showed up – for me. And they’ve been showing up ever since. It’s all I ever wanted from my parents. If Brooks walks into that theater tonight while on shift, my heart may finally come off life support.
He stares into my eyes in a way that I’d usually find wholly uncomfortable, but with him, it’s not. ‘I should go. You have a busy day, and I need to do my first walk of shame.’
I laugh. ‘What part shamed you the most?’ I ask, following him from my room to my front door. ‘It was Aunt Flo’s presence for me,’ I say as he exits my apartment, leaving me standing in my open doorway.
‘I have zero shame. I’ve never slept so well in my life.’ He moves closer to me, static buzzing between us. ‘Wanna rain-check third base to a home run on date four?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Perfect,’ he says, finishing his sentence with a kiss. ‘I’ll get that demon-purging appointment set up and let you know.’
My stomach drops thinking about facing Nick. Even so, I still want to go through with it. I feel like the only way I’ll understand what Brooks Hudson is doing to my heart is to finally deal with my past and hopefully leave it behind bars.
‘I’ll see you tonight,’ he says, kissing my forehead.
Dylan’s door swings open as I watch Brooks walk down the hall. My heart is floating on cloud number nine, but the giddiness he’s left in my chest sizzles out like a campfire in the rain in Dylan’s presence.
‘An overnight guest and public displays of affection? Things must be going well.’
‘Where’s your overnight guest?’
He laughs, closing the door behind him and locking his apartment. ‘She respects work hours.’
‘Ha ha. I’ll be there on time; I’m already halfway ready.’ That’s not even a lie; my clothes are picked, and that’s half the battle.
Not long after I get to the shop, the best-dressed little girl in the northwest smiles at me excitedly with her ukulele in hand, strumming the chords we learned recently.
‘You’ve been practicing.’
Her uncle laughs. ‘I don’t think she’s put the thing down in a week.’
‘Well, I can tell,’ I say, kneeling to her level. ‘You’re easily my best ukulele student.’
‘Really?’ she asks, beaming with pride.
‘Yep. Ready to get started on the next part?’
‘Yes!’
Uncle Nate leaves us to practice, and just like last week, she catches on quickly. As we practice the song of my day-mares, I mentally jot down all the feelings coming up for me so I can add them to a letter I plan to write to Nick. Maybe I won’t be able to say the things I want out loud, and if that happens, I will torment him with my own written words. Two can play that game.
‘Your shoes are pretty,’ Ali says as we wind down.
‘Well, thank you,’ I say, glancing down at them. ‘A friend picked them out today. I love your floral tights and boots. You’re the most fashionable six-year-old I’ve ever met.’
‘Miss Mercy?’ she asks softly while she plays.
‘Yeah?’
‘After this, do you think we could learn the sunshine song?’
‘The sunshine song?’
She nods excitedly. ‘My daddy sings it to me when I have bad dreams.’
I’m not sure which song she’s referring to. ‘Sing it for me?’
Her sweet little voice sings through only one line, and that’s all it takes for me to know exactly what she’s talking about and play it with her.
She beams. ‘Yeah!’
Her dad sings it to her when she has bad dreams. How freaking adorable is that? Hugely so, and nothing like my life as a little girl. My eyes were usually open when I had terrible dreams, and no one ever came to rescue me from them.
‘We sure can, sweetie. Do you know what would be fun? To keep it a secret – you can surprise him at your first recital.’
‘What’s a recital?’
‘Every six months, we have a show with all our students. We’ll invite your family and have snacks, and you’ll play the songs you’ve been working on. Wouldn’t it be fun to surprise your daddy with the sunshine song?’
‘Yes!’ she squeals. ‘But what kind of snacks?’
‘A girl after my own heart, worrying about the snacks. They’re good ones, I promise.’
Can this girl get any cuter?
28
BROOKS
I blow out another long sigh after the last one goes unnoticed. Yes, I’m being a needy bitch this afternoon.
Andrews glances at me from the passenger seat with a roll of his eyes. ‘If you’re going to assault my ears, just do it already.’
‘We’re taking a late lunch,’ I tell him. ‘I got a thing.’
‘Pretty sure the thing you got is work…’
‘A different thing.’
‘Stop here,’ he says, pointing at the Sesame Donuts shop we’re just about to drive past. I pull in, park, and watch him walk in. He samples as many donuts as possible before walking out with a box and a brown paper bag.
I’m not planning on telling him details about what’s happening between Mercy and me. That would be disturbing, considering he acts as if people pay him to hang out with me. Which is technically accurate, but I know he likes hearing my bullshit deep down. I can tell.
I need his opinion on whether or not it’s possible to feel what I feel after such a short time of Mercy and me knowing one another again. Sure, we spent some time in one another’s beds years ago, but even so, this feels so different. Even what I once felt about Norah can’t compare. Andrews has been married for over twenty years. Surely he’s got some knowledge and wisdom about the emotions I’m questioning.
When he gets in, he tosses me the brown paper bag.
‘What’s this?’
‘Those are donut holes to fill your word hole, so maybe there will be more chewing than talking.’
I laugh, opening the bag and popping one in my mouth. ‘Not gonna work,’ I say, now talking with a full mouth. ‘You’re my work wife, remember? We’ve farted in front of one another. My manners flew out the window years ago.’ I waggle my eyebrows, now pulling out of our spot and heading to the day’s destination – a park where my child plays. Isn’t that grand? Drug deals happen in the worst places.
Nick’s tip that Seiver is making me follow up on is that one of Dominic’s dealers is doing big drug drops with rivals at this park. In the drug world, playing both sides of the fence isn’t the smartest thing anyone could do. But it happens, and today is supposed to be a drop day; if it happens, Nick’s advice could help trigger his early parole. Just thinking about him getting out of jail makes my stomach hurt.
‘I told my actual wife your work wife joke, and she volunteered to fill in,’ Andrews says, glaring my way.
I laugh out loud. ‘Your wife thinks I’m cute, does she?’ I ask, stopping at a red light. ‘Think she likes me more than you?’
‘Yeah, let’s discuss it in detail, shall we?’ he grumbles, shoving a donut into his mouth. ‘Let me ask you,’ he says with a mouth full. ‘Does your lady friend think you’re funny?’
I shrug. ‘She laughs when I tell jokes.’
‘Then what’s the problem? If you can make her laugh, you’re halfway there.’
‘Halfway where?’
‘To convincing her to fall in love with you, moron. I’m assuming that’s what all the heavy sighing was about? You’re already in love with her and want my opinion? Here it is: I’ve never met a woman who fell for a guy who couldn’t make her laugh.’ He shoves the rest of his donut in his mouth.
I jump when a horn behind me honks as the light turns green. Even considering being in love with Mercy has my head on an entirely different planet. I hit the gas, readjusting the cap I’m wearing.
‘I can’t believe they let you drive a fucking police car,’ Andrews grumbles.
Should I tell him her story so he can help with Nick? I know he hates hearing about cases involving kids, but with the right amount of anger, maybe we can make sure this asshole stays in jail where he belongs.
‘Seiver saved her when she was eight.’
‘What?’ he asks. This gets his attention in a way that even halts the donut en route to his mouth.
‘Her dad, Nick Alexander – our newest snitch – was a dealer. Typical story, drug deal went bad, someone pulled the trigger, he fled, she was in the house when it happened.’
Andrews stares at me blankly, rage slowly taking over. ‘You serious?’
I nod, grabbing another donut hole from the bag in my lap. ‘She watched while it happened, then called 911, and tried to help after the victim’s friend and her father fled. Unfortunately, the guy didn’t make it, and Dad got fifty years in the slammer.’
His stare is deadly as he processes my words. ‘Je-sus, fuck-ing, Christ,’ he snarls.
If one thing can get a rise out of Andrews, it’s innocent kids involved in a case. He was on a raid years ago, before I was even a cop, that didn’t go as planned, and one of the two children involved didn’t make it out. The dealer got wind police were headed his way and set the house on fire with the kids inside. Andrews tried desperately to save them both and nearly killed himself in the process. He’s even got a scar on one arm where he was burned that night – a permanent reminder. Seiver warned me when I was paired with him not to bring it up or ask questions. Here I am, reminding him.
The fifteen-minute drive is now silent. Neither of us even eats. I pull into the park and back into a hidden spot against some trees. A playground is to my left, an empty soccer field directly in front of me, and a parking lot on the other side of the soccer field surrounded by trees is where we’re expecting our guys to be. It’s empty now, but that doesn’t mean much.
‘Is she OK… now?’ Andrews asks, concern on his face.
‘With that, no. But she’s trying to work through it. When I figured all this out, I was tempted to drive down to that prison and tell Nick how I felt about what he did to her. Instead, I asked Seiver to take back the case. I can’t be the lead, but he insists I still do this side of it. When I told Mercy, she admitted she wants to talk to him. Nick. Face to face.’
‘You told her that was a bad idea?’
