He touched his mouth to hers, slid out, moved back, laid her in bed and then exited it.
He got rid of the condom and washed up in a dark bathroom before rejoining her in bed.
Hix didn’t have to hook her around the waist to pull her into him that time.
She cuddled right in after he’d settled on his back and as he was yanking the covers over them.
“Who’s snuggling now?” he teased.
“Shut up, Hixon.”
He grinned to the ceiling, curled his arm around her and drew circles on her hip as she pressed her naked body into his side, snaking a hand along his gut, curving it around his other side and holding him close.
“You’re in a better place tonight,” she noted.
Earlier, on her porch, he hadn’t had bourbon, he’d had beer. He’d also had some cold fried chicken he found out she’d bought for him just in case he came early enough to eat, or late but without dinner.
It had been the last.
She’d also shown him the three dresses on her laptop that she’d bought that night (all three he’d given his wholehearted approval). She’d told him the salon was on fire with talk about Calloway’s murder. And she’d assured him that everyone had faith in him and his crew finding who did it.
She’d also said, “A beauty salon is not a confessional, but you know, it wouldn’t be good to lose a client. So it was a little bird that told you that the Mortimers’ neighbor’s son loved his dog a whole lot. Not to mention, he’s got a paper route he does for spending money, thus the means to buy spray paint his parents didn’t know about, as well as a grudge his dog was shot and his parents were forced to use the money they were saving up to buy him the latest Xbox for his birthday in order to save that dog’s life. Insult to injury, he mighta acted on that. And his folks mighta found the paint cans. And they mighta reamed his ass even if they still thought it was pretty damned funny. So they might be comin’ in to share their son acted unwisely in his anger or they might not. Just act surprised if they do and don’t give me up if they don’t.”
“Talked to them already, Greta, and they told me their son would never do that,” he’d replied.
“Well, after they did that, they checked to make sure the statement they gave the sheriff was indeed correct and found that it was not.”
Even though he was grateful for the knowledge and amused she was so funny in the way she provided it, he shared gently, “You’re not my booty call. You’re also not my informant, sweetheart.”
She’d just smiled back. “I know. What I am is the chick who’s cool with ratting out one of her clients’ sons if it takes a least a little something off your mind.”
After that, with no will to fight it, he’d dragged her ass off the porch then nailed it in her bedroom.
“We made headway today,” he replied to her mentioning he was in a better place.
She gave his middle a squeeze. “Good.”
“Yeah.”
They both let that settle before Hix spoke again.
“Think that Reuben had magical powers, eating it, I saw somethin’ I hadn’t noticed from the photos we got and I’d been givin’ those a lot of attention.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him through the dark. “Then no more bitching about me feeding you.”
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, grinning at her and murmuring, “No more bitching, baby.”
She gave him a flash of a smile and settled back in on his shoulder.
Hix took his time drifting his fingers along her cheek as he slid his hand away.
She snuggled closer and muttered, “Pancakes okay for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Hope to God I close this case but now hope to God I do it without packing on fifty pounds.”
She gave him a warning shake. “What was that we agreed about no more bitching?”
“Right. Sorry,” he mumbled then spoke distinctly, “Pancakes will be good.”
“Excellent.”
The hour, the dark and the sex settled in, so Hix did too, relaxing and feeling sleep coming when Greta asked, “You talk to your kids?”
“Shaw called tonight after football practice, heard what happened, checking in. He handed the phone off to his sisters. So yeah. They’re worried about their dad but think they’re all old enough to get this is part of the job. At least that’s what they gave me. I’ll know better when I got ’em back.”
“Good.”
Hix hadn’t shared with Greta about Hope’s visit that day.
Since Reva had been there when Hope showed, Greta might already know if that news had hit the salon and she just wasn’t mentioning it. Or she could not know and he wasn’t going to bring his ex into her bed.
What he was going to do was carve out some time where his mind was not centered on a murder and consider what was happening with Greta.
He had friends. He had female friends. He’d never had a friend with benefits, he was thinking that might be nice, but it still wasn’t what this was.
No, he was thinking that wasn’t what he wanted this to be.
It was too soon but he was also beginning to think he didn’t give a shit.
She was great and it might not be the best timing, but he’d be a fool if something that gave every indication it was just that awesome walked into his life and he didn’t work with her to discover where it might go.
That conversation would have to happen after he found a murderer.
But it was going to happen.
So as Hix fell asleep feeling Greta’s warm weight pressed to his side, along his stomach, smelling her, he found he had another reason to catch a killer.
And fast.
Really Fuckin’ Simple
Hixon
THE NEXT MORNING, Hix woke up again before six, alone in Greta’s bed.
He hauled himself out and went to her bathroom, flipping on the light switch and seeing poking out of her pail, with its bouquet of rolled washcloths, a toothbrush in its packaging with a blue bow stuck to it that was five times the size of what it was stuck to.
He grinned, did his thing, including brushing his teeth with a new toothbrush, went back out and got dressed but carried his boots with his socks stuffed into them down the stairs, dumping them at the foot and smelling sausage as he rounded the steps to head to the kitchen.
She was standing at the sink in her robe, body facing her windows that now had the sheer shades drawn up, a coffee cup held aloft in front of her, but her head was turned, eyes to him.
“Thanks for the present,” he said, strolling into the room.
“You’ll learn I’m bountiful with my generosity,” she joked.
He stopped close to her side, dug his fingers in her hair and held her in position as he bent and took her mouth in a morning kiss that shared far more gratitude than any toothbrush was worth.
When he broke the kiss and lifted slightly away, he watched her slowly open her eyes and breathe, “Today, I’m totally buying you dental floss.”
He started chuckling, doing it dipping in to touch his mouth to hers before he let her go and went to the coffee.
She went to the stove to turn sausage links.
Once he made his mug, saw hers was still mostly full, he rested the side of a hip against the counter, turned to her.