Divorced, Desperate and Delicious, Page 20

“No!” Lacy cried and leaned back against the seat.

  “Who is it?” Chase asked, unable to hide his annoyance. They had condoms, damn it! Twenty-four of them, and he had already formed at least seventeen fantasies on how he hoped to use them. And he hadn’t stopped at seventeen for lack of ideas; he figured he should leave a few scenarios open for Lacy.

  “Let’s leave,” she snapped.

  Chase threw the car in reverse, but he hadn’t hit the gas when Lacy’s front door jerked open and he heard a voice call out.

  “Well?” he asked, and glanced at Lacy, praying she’d tell him to floor it and head straight to an available hotel.

  “How do you feel about suicide?” Lacy mumbled.

  Chase glanced to the house, and an older woman with dark hair, wearing a purple suit that matched the Cadillac, came strolling toward the car. Running his fingers over his fake moustache, he frowned.

  “Your mother?” he asked, but already knew the answer. The resemblance between the two was strong.

  “Prepare yourself,” Lacy said. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

  The look on Lacy’s face held more fear than it had when she’d gone to answer the door to Zeke. “How bad can it be?” He glanced back up to see the purple-suited woman hotfooting it across the yard toward the car.

  “Have you ever had your fingers slammed in a car door?”

  “Ouch!” he said and wiggled his hands.

  “When this is over, that will sound like a cake-walk.” She got out of the car. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

  Chase stayed in his seat and watched Lacy open the back car door and grab the two bags of groceries she’d bought. Lacy’s mother stood five feet from the car, but Chase could feel her brown eyes on him, sizing him up and probably finding him unsuitable. Wasn’t that what mothers did—found all their daughters’ boyfriends unsuitable? Cutting the engine, he stretched his fingers over the steering wheel, not really eager to have them slammed in the car door.

  Shoulders squared, he got out and realized Lacy might accidently introduce him by his real name.

  “Hello,” he said before Lacy had a chance. “My name is . . . Jason Dodd.” His ex-partner and best friend’s name slipped out easily enough. “You must be Lacy’s mother.” He held out his hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jason,” she said, and a smile flickered across her face as she took Chase’s hand. “It’s absolutely wonderful, in fact. My name is Karina Callahan, since my daughter doesn’t seem inclined to introduce us.”

  Chase’s apprehension faded. The woman didn’t seem nearly as bad as he’d anticipated, or maybe they just hadn’t gotten to the slamming-door stage. He glanced at Lacy, who had her arms filled with groceries.

  “You’ve never been shy, Mama.” Lacy juggled the bags and propped one on her hip as she adjusted her hold. “I figured you’d cover it.” One bag started to slip.

  “Oh.” Chase pulled away from Lacy’s mother and reached for the bag. Before he got to it, the sack tumbled and spilled onto the grass.

  Chase knelt down. Lacy, still with one paper bag in her arms, dropped to her knees, and so did Mrs. Callahan. He reached for the dozen eggs, which no doubt were shattered, and that’s when Chase spotted the two bright red boxes of rubbers that had fallen right beside the woman’s purple pumps. Damn. The door-slamming stage had arrived.

  Fighting the insane laughter that bubbled up in his chest, he swallowed. Then he cut his gaze to Lacy to see if she’d noticed. The look of sheer horror on her face nearly did him in.

  “My, my,” Mrs. Callahan said.

  Chase reached for the boxes, in hopes that hiding them would make this easier for Lacy. Before he touched them, the woman had picked them up, making a show of tapping the boxes with her long, painted nails.

  Lacy dropped her other bag on the grass and flopped down on her bottom. “Don’t say a word, Mom!”

  Chase’s gaze went from Lacy to Mrs. Callahan. The woman’s brown eyes turned to him. He braced himself to hear a long lecture and remembered the time when he was sixteen and got caught by another mother in a girl’s bedroom. At least this time he had his clothes on and wouldn’t have to endure the speech with only a pink Sleeping Beauty doll in his lap.

  Mrs. Callahan cleared her throat, moistened her painted lips and . . . smiled.

  Chase stared, thinking it had to be a sneer or a scowl. But nope, those lips definitely curved into a smile.

  “I could just hug you,” the woman said, and she reached over with her free hand and pinched his cheek.

  It was Chase’s turn to fall over. And he did, right off his haunches and back on his butt. Lacy moaned and crawled over the crushed eggs and snatched the condom packages from her mother.

  “I said, don’t say a word.” She dropped the boxes into the other bag with the milk, ice cream, and vanilla wafers he had insisted be added to their purchases.

  Mrs. Callahan continued to beam at him. Words still wouldn’t form on his tongue. Had the woman just basically thanked him for wanting to have sex with her daughter?

  “What am I going to say, dear?” Lacy’s mother asked. The woman’s eyes raked his body.

  Chase shook his head. He’d had numerous moms give him the once-over, but never quite like that. Why, the woman had mentally stripped him naked. Karina Callahan was unlike any mom he’d ever encountered. Unsure how to proceed, he simply smiled and started repacking the spilled groceries.

  Mrs. Callahan stood, and Chase appreciated the woman’s grace and beauty for an older lady. She had to be in her fifties, but she not only looked well-maintained, but most of it appeared to be by nature and not by the hand of some plastic surgeon. No too-tight cheekbones or Botoxed expressions. A few well-earned wrinkles spanned her eyes, but the woman had held on to her beauty well. Chase moved his gaze to Lacy and knew she’d probably age as gracefully.

  “Jason,” Mrs. Callahan said. “How did you two lovebirds meet?”

  “Not now, Mom. My ice cream is melting.” Lacy helped gather the rest of the items before she stood.

  Chase grinned at her and she frowned, reminding him of their conversations about mothers and daughters. Something about this woman drove Lacy wacky. And now Chase felt he had a clue why.

  “Do you live around here?” Lacy’s mother asked.

  “Right outside of Houston.” Chase stood and tried not to moan when his sore ribs protested.

  “Well, that’s only a thirty-minute drive,” she said.

  “It’s not bad, mostly country roads.” Chase gathered the bags from Lacy’s arms and took a few steps.

  “How long have you known each other?”

  “Mom!” Lacy snapped. “Please don’t interrogate Jason.”

  “I’m not interrogating him. Why, I’m just mildly curious.” The woman continued toward the door.

  Chase took a few more steps and nearly tripped over the sudden realization. In all his excitement to buy condoms, he had left without his gun. He’d been at the store before he’d realized his stupidity. When nothing went wrong, he’d decided to give himself a break and not beat himself up about it. But now he had to worry. He reached over and pulled Lacy close. “My gun,” he growled at her.

  Lacy’s eyes widened. “Good idea. You shoot her and I’ll help you bury her in my backyard.” She started walking again.

  “Lacy!” He pulled her back to his side. “I think I left my gun on the counter by the phone. If she sees it, she’ll really pepper us with questions. Keep her busy in the living room while I hide the gun.”

  Lacy rolled her eyes and started moving again. Chase walked faster and beat both of them to the door.

  Arriving in the kitchen, he hid the gun with the pots and pans. When he turned to put away the groceries, Mrs. Callahan stood in the doorway, her gaze on the counter where the gun had been. He grabbed the milk and headed to the fridge.

  “You have to be quicker than that,” she said. “I already spotted the gun. It scared me for a second, but when I saw the wa
y she looked at you, well . . .” Her smile widened. “Lacy tells me you’re a police officer.” She stepped into the kitchen.

  Chase looked up from putting the milk in the fridge, confused as to why Lacy had told her that much. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you always carry a weapon?” She turned back to the counter where the gun had been.

  “Mostly,” Chase muttered, now understanding Lacy’s reasons. He opened the pantry and tried to decide where to put the potatoes.

  “She keeps the potatoes here.” Mrs. Callahan opened another small pantry, and studied him with a knowing grin. “You haven’t been dating long, have you?”

  “Mom, would you like something to drink before you leave?” Lacy stormed into the kitchen.

  “I’m fine, dear.” She continued to eye Chase. “Did you know that cop they think got messed up in selling drugs and was killed by his own partner?”

  “I could make you some tea,” Lacy offered, trying to distract her. “Have you noticed how many teas there are?”

  One glance at Karina Callahan and Chase knew she didn’t distract easily. He reached for another bag. “Yes, ma’am. I did know him.”

  “Do you think he was dirty?”

  “He didn’t seem like the type to go bad.” Chase dropped the bag and touched his face to make sure his mustache was in place.

  “Have you heard from Grandmother?” Lacy moved to stand between him and her mother.

  Mrs. Callahan smiled and clasped her hands together. “I almost forgot to tell you the wonderful news. Guess who is getting married?”

  “You barely know him, Mother.”

  Mrs. Callahan flipped her wrist out at her daughter. “It’s not me. It’s your grandmother. She’s marrying that Floyd man she met at her line-dancing club.” The woman chuckled. “Mother said the man can do the Dirty Chicken dance like no man she’s ever met.”

  “Mom, surely you’re not going to let her go through with this?”

  “Go through with what, dear?”

  “She has no business getting married at her age,” Lacy said.

  “Why, Lace. I see nothing wrong with an older person finding bliss in marriage.”

  Chase’s gaze moved from mother to daughter as they verbally sparred.

  “Mom, how much bliss is she going to find at eighty?”

  A smile lit the woman’s eyes. Chase recalled Lacy saying that her mother always spoke before thinking, and he tried to prepare himself.

  Her gaze found him. “I’ll have you know sex only gets better with age. It’s only a few of the more yoga-¬like positions that have to be rethought. Isn’t that right, Jason? I’ll bet your parents still bang a headboard against the wall occasionally.”

  Chase stared, but he wasn’t able to form a word. All he could think was that Lacy was right earlier: This woman truly needed to get herself one of those “thingamabobs,” the filter between one’s thoughts and words.

  “Please, Mom,” Lacy snapped. “His parents have passed.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry. Do you have siblings?” the woman asked, never missing a beat.

  “Mom!” Lacy growled.

  “A . . . sister,” Chase answered, still trying to get the vision of his parents banging a headboard against the wall out of his mind.

  “You two close?” Mrs. Callahan asked, undeterred by her daughter’s tone.

  “That’s it, Mom. No more questions. Come on, I think it’s time you head on out.”

  Right then Fabio came barreling through the doggy door and into the kitchen with loud shrill barks. Mrs. Callahan moved a little closer to Lacy. “My favorite dog,” she muttered, leaving no doubt as to her true feelings. She glanced up at Chase. “Have you ever seen such a mutt? The dog should be arrested for indecent exposure—he’s that ugly.”

  “But he has personality.” Chase grinned.

  “Well, with looks like that, you’d sure hope so,” Mrs. Callahan said.

  “I’ll walk you out, Mom.” Lacy touched her arm.

  Mrs. Callahan dropped into a kitchen chair. “I’m not leaving until I hear the charming story of how you two met. And I know it’s going to be a doozy.” She glanced at Chase. “You see, my daughter has lived like a nun for far too long. So I know you just about had to take her hostage to get her to pay any attention to you. So come on. Out with it.”

  Chase looked at Lacy and suppressed a chuckle. “Why don’t you tell her,” he suggested.

  “Why don’t you?” Lacy squinted her eyes at him.

  “You’re a much better storyteller,” Chase said.

  “That’s not what you said this morning.” She cocked her head and he remembered telling her she couldn’t lie worth a damn.

  “So he stayed here last night?” Lacy’s mother asked.

  Lacy frowned and glared at her mother. “Okay, here it is, Mom. Do you remember Hunky?”

  “Who could forget Hunky? I’m still wondering if I couldn’t fit into one of those FedEx envelopes.” Mrs. Callahan grinned.

  Lacy cut Chase a look that said he was going to regret not doing the storytelling. “Well, Ch . . . Jason and Hunky were special friends.”

  “Whoa!” Chase held up his hand, not liking the emphasis she’d given the word special. He looked at Mrs. Callahan. “We met through Sue, Lacy’s friend. At a dinner party.”

  “And?” Mrs. Callahan asked.

  “It was . . . magical.” He looked at Lacy and found the next words easily enough. “She took my breath away.”

  “It was my singing fish that did that,” Lacy interjected, a touch of humor in her voice.

  Chase grinned and their gazes met and held. “We haven’t been able to leave each other’s side since.”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t used handcuffs,” Lacy teased again.

  “Oh, this is good.” Mrs. Callahan giggled. “Tell me more.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so delightful,” Chase said. “Or beautiful.” He felt lost in Lacy’s eyes. The room seemed to go silent, and warmth washed over him.

  “Well, I can tell by the way you two are looking at each other, it’s time I skedaddle.” Mrs. Callahan pressed a kiss on Lacy’s cheek. “Enjoy him,” she whispered, just loud enough for Chase to hear. Then she stepped over to him and reached up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hurt her and I’ll feed you into a meat grinder,” she whispered for his ears only.

  Chase raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be careful.”

  • • •

  Lacy stepped outside with her mother, fighting the strange mixture of fear and light fluttering in her stomach that had begun when Chase told her mom about meeting her. Had he meant what he said? Had she taken his breath away?

  “So, how serious is this?” Lacy’s mother asked as soon as they cleared the front door.

  “It’s not,” Lacy insisted, and sighed with relief when she saw that Chase had parked to the side, leaving room for her mother to pull out.

  “Oh, yes, it is.” Her mother reached over and squeezed her elbow. “I know that look you gave him. Take my word. I hear wedding bells.” She grinned. “We could always fly to Florida and make it a double wedding. Why, shoot, if you’ll give me a few weeks, I might be able to talk Harold into taking the plunge. Imagine all three of us walking down the aisle!”

  Lacy stared at her mother. “Great, then we could be in divorce court at the same time, too.”

  “Please,” her mother said. “It’s taboo to think of divorce when you’re in love. And you’re in love. I can see it on your face, young lady.”

  • • •

  Pulling into the hospital parking lot, Zeke raked his nails over his neck. No doubt, the stress had brought on a case of hives. “Freaking A!” He had to do something.

  He jerked out his cell phone and punched in Bruno’s number. Dodd had left the precinct again, but Zeke didn’t see his car. Where had that fool gone? God, he hoped he’d run to see Kelly. As much as Zeke had hoped Kelly had died already, right now, he would love to have the pleasure of shoo
ting them both.

  “Tell me you got Dodd in sight or I’ll break both of your knees and you’ll never dance again.”

  “You know, a hello would do,” Bruno muttered.

  “I’m freaking—”

  “I’m tailing him now.”

  “Where are you?” Zeke unfastened the top button of his shirt.

  “First he went to Kelly’s condo again. Then it looked as if he was heading to the lake, but he turned left on the old highway. I don’t have a clue where he’s going, but I’m on him.”

  “He hasn’t made you, has he?” Zeke asked.

  “You kidding? I’m good at this. Nobody ever makes me.”

  “Stay on him and call me as soon he stops.” Zeke shoved his phone back into his pocket and got out of his car. Maybe things were turning around. Maybe Dodd was on his way now to see Kelly. Maybe Zeke would step into the hospital and learn Stokes had died. Yeah. Things had to turn around.

  • • •

  Her mother had left but Lacy continued to stand with her arms wrapped around her middle, staring at the house where Chase waited with twenty-four condoms. She was a worldly, modern woman, but she was a scared worldly, modern woman. Are you going to sleep with him or not? The question grew louder with each step she took toward the house.

  She walked through the front door and shut it. She moved into the living room. Her palms grew damp. Chase stepped out of the kitchen. He’d removed his disguise. The old Chase was back. Dark, seductive.

  “You’re right, she needs to get herself a thingamabob.” He smiled and his green gaze raked over her, up and down. It was just a look, but it spoke of promises.

  He promised her pleasure beyond pleasure, he promised to be tender, he promised to be rough. He promised to be slow and quick. Soft and hard.

  The phone rang. Neither of them moved to answer it. They stood there separated by a space of less than five feet. Then Sue’s voice came across the sound system.

  “Where are you? Don’t you remember we agreed to meet early this week? The fajitas are getting cold. I knew I should have called you earlier. You slept with Peter, didn’t you?”

  Lacy blinked and looked past him toward the kitchen. Oh, Lordie, she’d forgotten this was Friday. Forgotten she was supposed to meet Sue and Kathy. But now that she remembered, she knew without a doubt that she had to go. Well, she didn’t have to go, but she would. Yup, this worldly, modern woman was running away. Running scared.

  She grabbed her purse from the sofa and walked past Chase to snatch her keys from the counter beside the phone.

  “I’ve got to go. I forgot, I have to . . .” She didn’t explain any further and he didn’t ask. The look in his eyes told her he knew better than to try to stop her. He frowned, folded his arms across his chest and watched her step out.

  “Damn!” Chase let out a deep frustrated breath of air when he heard the door shut. The minute Lacy walked out, the phone started ringing again. “Uh, Chase. You around?” Jason’s voice echoed through the house.

  Chase darted for the phone. “Yeah,” he answered.

  “I went by your place again. There are no books there except regular books. I’m about a mile from the lake; I’m going to stop by. Be there in about ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be here,” Chase said into the receiver. “See ya.” He dropped the phone and went to look out the window to see if Lacy had really left. She had. But damn, what was it with this woman?

  Chapter Nineteen