Bad Boy Blues - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,37
the porch in the rain. A guy who abused his wife.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on her. “His wife pressed charges this time. I was able to arrest and hold him for a while.”
“And she’s safe?”
“She’s safe.” His smile was proud.
“That’s good news.”
“There’s not always a happy ending,” he said, sounding tired. “But sometimes there’s a happy for right now, and that’s almost as good.”
Happy for right now. Fleeting, but precious. She picked at her salmon and announced to her plate, “I have a job interview.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She glanced up. “In Chicago. It’s next Thursday, but I thought I’d go ahead and pack up now. Head back to my parents’ house since they live close to the city.”
His nod was slow. “Convenient since you’ll be searching for an apartment nearby.”
“Exactly.” She offered a shaky smile.
“Need help with anything?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to pack much, other than my clothes and whatever groceries are in the cabinets. Everything else stays here.”
Everything including him, she thought with a stabbing sense of dread.
“Congratulations,” he said, again with a slow nod.
“I didn’t think I’d have an interview already. Everyone I’ve talked to says it’s a tough job market, and that I should be prepared to wait.”
“They must’ve seen what I see,” he murmured, his eyes warm on hers. “A strong, capable woman who would make a damn good… What position did you apply for?”
She laughed and then told him more about the position and the company. How she was worried she’d get it and worried she wouldn’t. He listened as they finished their dinner, and then they loaded the dishwasher.
When she took his hand to lead him upstairs, he followed. He stripped her down slowly, and she undressed him just as slowly, each savoring the moment. He kissed her body, and she kissed his.
They made love slowly, too, as if neither of them wanted the night to end. Neither of them admitted this was the last night they’d be together, but both of them knew.
It seemed happy right now didn’t last long at all.
Chapter 20
Brady was exhausted.
He’d fully intended on stopping by to see Elli off the day after their final steamy night between the sheets, but he never had the chance.
An early morning call across town turned into an all-day stakeout. He ended up sitting in a patrol car with Darrin for hours on end and sending Elli a goodbye text.
Not ideal.
He supposed the official goodbye was the last time he made love to her, but he still would’ve liked to tell her goodbye in person. Life had other plans.
The day of Elliott’s interview was his day off. He texted her good luck, but he didn’t hear back. He wasn’t sure if she was cutting ties with him completely or just busy.
Restless, he paid Ant a visit, figuring he could make good on his outstanding debt and purchase a piece of furniture. That, too, was a link to Elliott, he thought as he parked his truck outside of Ant’s studio.
Brady followed the sound of a chainsaw to the side yard. Ant was buzzing away at a tree trunk, safety glasses on. Ant saw him and shut off the blubbering engine.
“Afternoon,” Brady greeted.
“You look like shit,” his friend told him.
“Thanks a lot.” Brady ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t slept well last night. Or any night since Elli left. He was trying really hard not to be irrational. Not to call her parents or show up in Chicago unannounced. She’d become a big part of his life while she was here, but it was over. She’d made that clear.
God, that sucked.
“Came to peruse your furniture store,” Brady said, changing the subject.
“Uh-huh.” Ant set the chainsaw aside and pulled off his sawdust-covered fedora, then his safety glasses. He tossed his gloves and glasses on top of a stump before setting the hat back on his head.
“What are you making?” Brady studied the textured dents in the wood, impressed with the detail even though it didn’t resemble anything yet.
“Money.” Ant squinted up at the sculpture. “It’s a wolf howling at the moon. Or it will be. Special order.”
“Nice.”
“You want a beer?”
“Why not?”
They headed into the garage-slash-studio, and Ant handed over a bottle of beer but opened a water bottle for himself, explaining that chainsaws and alcohol didn’t mix.
Brady drank down half the beer in one swallow. Tasted good on a hot day.
“You are misery personified, man.” Ant shook his head. “What happened? She leave?”
“Who?”
“Beemer. Chick with the flat. What do you