Page 13 of Whips and Chains (Saint View Murder Squad #2)

She popped an earbud in and went off to the bathroom with her supplies, while I made my way into the kitchen.

Mrs. Sinterro was a little old lady who liked to cook.

She cleaned up after herself to the best of her ability, but there were always spaghetti sauce stains on the stove top and breadcrumbs all over the countertop.

I moved a couple of dirty plates to the kitchen sink and got the hot water running.

It wasn’t part of my job to do her dishes, but I always did. And I didn’t tell Francine, because she would have charged her more.

Mrs. Sinterro’s kitchen overlooked her backyard, with overgrown grass growing up around old bits of junk that had been left out there to rust, and a broken wood picket fence that wouldn’t keep out bunnies, let alone anything else.

The thing was hanging on for dear life, and a stiff breeze probably could have knocked it down.

I frowned at it, lost in thought of how I wished I could get it fixed for the sweet old lady who always left me cookies wrapped in plastic as a thank you for helping her keep up with her place. But with no money and even less handyman skills, all I could really do was what I was already doing.

It sucked, because I knew Mrs. Sinterro didn’t have any children to help her. She’d been single all her life, and now she was closing in toward the end of it, there was nobody to support her.

This would probably be me one day, I realized with a start. I’d always pictured Toby by my side in our old age, even if he ended up with someone. But now that was never going to happen. God, did Devin even know? Did Toby’s parents? Was it on me to tell them all?

I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t think I could.

Something popped up on the other side of the window, and I stumbled back a step in shock.

X’s stupidly handsome face beamed at me, all white teeth and wide grin.

I put my hand to my heart, then groaned when I realized I was getting soap suds all over my shirt. “Oh my God, X! Go away!”

He cupped a hand around his ear, acting like he couldn’t hear me.

Though I doubted that was true. Mrs. Sinterro’s crappy old cottage was probably made of the cheapest, thinnest materials you could build a house from, and it was old and run-down enough that there were plenty of gaps and cracks for sound to travel through.

I opened my mouth to complain, but he held up a finger, telling me to wait. I frowned, but did, washing dishes while he pulled a notepad and a black Sharpie from behind his back and scribbled something on it, before turning it around to show me.

It read, I’m sorry.

I sighed.

He held his finger up again and then scribbled some more.

The second time, his note said: You’re awesome.

I just stared at him, because what was I supposed to say to that?

His third note was: I suck. And not only in the good way.

My cheeks went pink, remembering the way he’d sucked me throughout the night.

That had definitely been in the good way.

It had been so good, in fact, my pussy got wet just thinking about it, and I knew as soon as I got home, once I’d finished all my shifts for the day, I would very probably need to whip out my vibrator.

Which would be a poor substitution for his tongue.

He stared at me hopefully, but when I didn’t say anything, he screwed up his face and scribbled a fourth note.

When he turned it around, I couldn’t help but snigger.

Please don’t shank me. My duck needs me.

A smile spread across his face, not the smug or stupid one I wanted to slap off him at times, but a genuine smile. One that made me realize he actually found true pleasure in making me laugh.

And it was hard not to, when he was cute and silly and didn’t give a shit what anyone thought about him.

I envied that so much. I could guarantee X had never worried about a bad impression he may or may not have made on a coworker months ago.

I leaned forward and lifted the window with a sharp tug that made a piercing screech of protest. “Was this your grand apology plan? To write me silent note cards, Love Actually style? Where did you even get that paper and pen from?”

“I broke into the house next door and stole it.”

I widened my eyes at him. “Are you serious?”

He laughed. “Of course not.” Then he glanced at the house next door. “But just so you know, that window was definitely already broken when we got here. That was definitely not because I threw a brick through it.”

I groaned. “You can’t just do things like that!”

“You wouldn’t listen to my apology.”

“Yeah, because I was mad at you!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Was?”

“Am. Still am mad at you.”

“No, you said was. You can’t take that back. My apology worked. You forgive me. You said it yourself.”

“Mmm, no, I definitely never said that.”

He eyed me, being really stupidly cute. Then he sighed, leaning his arms on the windowsill and ducking his head so he could peer through it.

I took a spoon from the soapy water and placed it in the drying rack. “What?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

I picked up a butter knife and ran my sponge over it.

It caught X’s eye. “If that’s supposed to be threatening, it’s not. It’s just making me want to kiss you more.”

I leaned in, so our faces lined up better, his lips just a few inches away from mine. “Is it?”

His gaze flickered to my mouth. He closed his eyes, and waited for the kiss he knew was coming.

It would have been so easy to meet in the middle. To kiss him through the open window. Every part of me demanded I do exactly that.

But my body was a traitorous, horny bitch who couldn’t be trusted.

And X, Whip, and Levi were all liars.

I slammed the window down, just barely missing his puckered lips.

He blinked in surprise.

I smiled at him smugly and then gave him the middle finger.

He pressed his lips to the glass instead. And then winked at me.

All the smugness I’d had a minute ago at getting the upper hand melted away.

Because we both knew I couldn’t keep this up. And for the rest of the day, I would be thinking about that kiss I’d just let slip away, when all I had wanted was to let it happen.