Murder Mayhem and Mama

A few hours later, Brit leaned against the headboard a contented man. Cali smiled at him as she tossed away the to-go cartons that had held the fried rice. He didn’t like to brag, and he seldom did aloud. But Cali was putty in his hands, his for the taking, and she’d enjoyed every moment of it. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her smile so brightly, or seem so relaxed.

They had made love a second time, sat in bed, and ate Chinese food straight from the boxes. Then she had insisted on doing laundry. Now, almost ten o’clock, they had showered and piled back into the bed. Or at least he had. Cali ran around the room as if she couldn’t rest until everything was neat.

“Forget that.” Brit tackled her back into the bed.

He ran his hand over her hip. She didn’t wear any panties, but had insisted on donning one of his dress shirts. He kept unbuttoning it; she kept buttoning it up.

“Hey, look.” She pointed to the bedside table.

Brit turned his head and saw Mama Cat sitting beside the phone. “Finally decided to come out, huh?”

The cat’s half-gone ear twitched. Cali reached out, and the cat hissed.

“I think she’s jealous,” Cali said, watching the cat leave.

“I love it when two women fight over me.” He kissed her. God, he loved kissing her. “You think you can sleep?” he asked, rolling over and taking her on top of him. He still got a high when he felt her hair spill over his chest.

Her smile brushed against his shoulder. “You wore me out.”

“Good.” He ran his hand over her hip and tried to think about how to broach the subject of her taking some time off. “You can sleep in tomorrow.”

She chuckled. “You call six sleeping in?”

The bomb had to drop. “I don’t want you going to work.”

As he expected, she stiffened, then sat up. “I have to.”

“They can get a sub for a few days.” He sat up beside her.

“I want to go to work.”

He frowned. “Stan knows you’ll be there.”

“I don’t care.” She sat up, ruler straight, her teacher posture. “I’ve let him chase me out of my apartment. I can’t even go to my mom’s house, and I need to get her things packed up, so I can put the house on the market. I’m not going to let him keep me from my job.”

Brit understood how she felt, but damn it, he couldn’t stand the idea that Stan might try to get to her. Off and on the last hour, his gut had pumped acid just thinking that the freak had probably held Cali the way he held her—that the scum had buried himself inside her. Brit had never been jealous. He was now. And while he had to accept that he couldn’t change that she’d slept with the asshole, he couldn’t accept that the man would even have the pleasure of laying his eyes on her again.

“A few days. A week at the most,” he said. “Please.”

“No.”

The “please” word was losing its power. “It’s not safe.”

“No.” She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. “I’m going to work. It’s the only normal thing I have in my life. I’m not giving it up. I need that right now.”

Brit started to argue, but the blue steel in her eyes told him it was futile. “Okay,” he growled. “I’ll take you and pick you up. But don’t even think about going to lunch.”

She nodded. “You need to take me to get my car in the morning.”

He let out a deep breath and stretched out on the bed and stared holes in the ceiling.

“Are you mad?” she asked.

“Not at you. At the situation.” He brushed his hand down her arm. She scooted over and pillowed her head on his chest. He ran his hand over her back, and neither spoke again for a long time.

“So much has happened this last week,” she said, breaking the silence.

“I know.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and remembered what she’d said earlier. “I’ll help you pack up your mother’s things later this week. Do you have a storage place where you want to put them?”

“Not yet.”

He heard her swallow. The silence lingered, and he waited, sensing her need to talk.

“Sometimes, I forget she’s gone. It’s like I’ll think of something to tell her or see the phone and think I should give her a call.”

“I know.” And he did. He felt the same about Keith. He moved his hand to her back, caressing her, comforting her.

She buried her head deeper on his chest.

“Are you still dreaming about her?”

She shifted. “Yeah.”

The one-word answer came out with more emotion than it had letters. He rolled over. “Nightmares?”

“No. She just talks to me.”

He remembered what she’d told him about the dreams. “About lesbians?” He couldn’t help but smile.

The slightest grin played on her lips in return. “She said her hospice nurse was a lesbian.”

Brit took Cali’s hand in his. “Is she?”

“I think so.” She stared at their hands locked together.

The perfect fit. “What else does your mom talk about?” He brushed his thumb over the top of her hand.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, strange huh?” She glanced away.

“What does she say about me?”

“She says our auras have the hots for each other.”

“Our auras?” He chuckled.

“Yeah.” She glanced at the ceiling. “Dr. Roberts says—”

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