Page 14 of Bobbing for Bodies
“How about it? You, me, your mother, and her date, Saturday night?”
A tiny giggle works its way up my throat. “Fine. Just know that I’m the reason you’ll be seated across from Wallace Chad that night. My mother mentioned that he and Hunter spoke about finances.”
“You mentioned he was looking for a loan.” He sighs, and a white plume blooms from his lips. “So, you know he was having trouble with money?”
“I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me why you need to meet Detective Fairbanks here tomorrow morning. You do realize that a person can get lost for weeks in that haunted corn maze if they’re not properly caffeinated before noon.”
He barks out a laugh, and his teeth glisten like a string of glowing moons. “Yes, I do realize that. I guess there’s no harm in telling you he was looking for employment here. Just helping out at night. Ken was busy, but we’ll speak with him more in the morning about it.”
“Oh. No, I didn’t know that.” I glance over to Ken and Molly who are helping organize a hayride. Not the terrifying one that they sell tickets for, but the run-of-the-mill kind you can take your toddler on and not fear nightmares for the next six years. “I guess he really was having trouble with money. I’ll talk to Bear and try to find out how much he was paying him. I can’t believe it wasn’t enough.”
“No, no, no.” He tips his head back and moans mournfully before holding my gaze once again. “If you talk to Bear, and we talk to Bear about the same topic, it might spook him. Let me handle the investigation, and you worry about how many brownies to bake for the next day. Sound fair?”
I open my mouth to protest, then quickly close it. Working with the Ashford Homicide Division could be a big break for Noah. I’d feel terrible ruining it for him.
“Fair,” I say it short and sweet, all the while crossing my fingers behind his back. No use in worrying him over something so silly. Bear is used to me asking all sorts of prying questions. And honestly, I might be the only person he feels comfortable opening up to. “So, Saturday night—Italian or Mexican? Or, of course, there’s always the Honey Pot.”
“I’m not above trying something new. Italian sounds a bit more neutral as far as the heat level goes.”
“Sounds perfect.” I lose myself in those evergreen eyes. “I’ve missed you.”
A warm growl comes from him. “I’ve missed you, too. But I’ve been talking about you all week. Have your ears been burning?”
“No.” I’m pleasantly surprised. “With Detective Fairbanks?”
“With Imogene Cross. She’s the realtor who helped me find my own rental. She said she can let you into both houses on Sunday. And that happens to be my day off.”
“Tell me the time and I’ll arrange to be there.” I’m giddy over the thought of moving to such close proximity to him. “So, this whole keeping secrets from each other thing isn’t really going to last forever, is it?” My stomach cinches as soon as I get the words out. Regret thy name is Lottie Lemon.
“I’m not keeping secrets from you, I promise.” He dots a sweet kiss over my lips, and I can’t help but dig my fingers into the back of his thick dark hair. “No offense to you, Lottie. It’s just business. As soon as anything can be made public, you will be the first to know.”
A conciliatory sigh escapes me. “In that case, I wish both you and Detective Fairbanks luck in catching the killer quickly.”
“Thank you.” His finger swipes gently over my lips. “So, a double date, huh? Does that mean we’re dating?”
My smile expands into the night. “I guess it does.”
“I like that.”
“I like that, too.”
Noah bows in for another kiss, and we share something deeper, with far more meaning than a simple kiss could ever convey. My mouth opens for him, and what comes next spells out he’s all mine than words could ever hope. Too bad Ivy has pressured him into not sharing any details of the case with me, and sadly my aforementioned insecurities suggest I take this seriously. If Noah’s not up for sharing details about the case, then neither am I. There’s no way I want to help Ivy get a leg up on something only to have it backfire in my face. I’m sure she wouldn’t hesitate to humiliate me in the process. I’m pretty sure I read that body language of hers loud and clear. She’s interested in Noah Fox for more than just a few leads.
And that’s exactly why I’ll be investigating the rest of this case on my own.
No offense to Noah.
It’s just business.
Chapter 8
The next day, the bakery is still bustling well into the late afternoon. I blame those warm cinnamon rolls I just pulled out of the oven. I swear, each time I do that, all of Main Street empties out and floods into the Cutie Pie. Not that I mind. Actually, I cannot believe how much money we’ve made in less than a week. But as Lainey gently reminded me, the bakery is still in its honeymoon phase, and this is my chance to prove to my customers time and time again that our goods are as delicious as they smell. I need repeat business. I need for it to be this swamped and bustling a year from now. The last thing I want is to disappoint anyone. That, in fact, has always been my downfall.
It’s almost five. The bakery is only open for one more hour and still no sign of catty Ivy wielding her badge in my face. Worse yet, she’ll probably come in wielding my boyfriend at me.Boyfriend. There’s that word again. We haven’t fully discussed being exclusive, but he did say quite emphatically that he’s saving all of those heated kisses for me. And, my God up in heaven, what sexy, smoldering, die-on-the-spot kisses they are. My insides do a cartwheel just thinking about them.
The bell to the bakery jingles, and my heart stops cold once I spot that all too familiar face. It’s not Ivy or Noah. It’s—Hunter?
“Hey, Lot.” His voice strums my way as his features sag, and I come to.