Sixth Grave on the Edge Page 58

Reyes’s breathing slowed, as did the rain. It tapped out a soft, melodic pattern against the ’Cuda as we lay there, limbs tangled, clothes askew. What little we had on, anyway. He leaned up and kissed me then, long and hard and deep, as though to thank me. As though to reinforce the fact that he needed me as much as I needed him.

When he rose, I brushed my fingertips over his cheek and whispered, “That was somewhat amazing.”

His teeth flashed brilliant in the darkness. “You are somewhat amazing.”

I’d take it. I was totally busy staring into his eyes when I heard a chime. It registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but didn’t quite make it into conscious thought until I heard the sound again.

“That’s my phone,” I said to him.

He eased me off the hood and kept hold of me until I gained my balance. It took a moment to locate my pants, but once I did, I fished my phone out of my pocket, prayed the rain hadn’t ruined it, and checked my texts. An expletive I couldn’t repeat in public splashed across the screen. I screeched, covered my mouth with one hand, then said through my fingers, “I forgot about Uncle Bob!”

14

The fastest way to a man’s heart is by

tearing a hole through his rib cage.

—T-SHIRT

I hurried in through the back of the bar, soaking wet and squishy, and found Uncle Bob sitting at the bar. After spotting Cookie with her “date” in a dark corner, I began to grow worried, wondering if Ubie had seen them. That was the whole point, after all. Both seats beside Ubie were taken, and there were only a couple of seats to be had at all. And zero, absolutely zero, tables left. I took a seat one over from him. In between us sat a fortyish man with a nice suit and too much cologne. He perked up when I sat down, then looked at me and changed his mind, deciding his drink was more interesting. I glanced in the mirror behind the bar and understood. Not only was I a mess, but my makeup was smeared (on only one eye), my hair (which had been pulled up) was lopsided and hung off to the side like a deflated balloon, and my shirt was on backwards. And it was a button-down. How was that even possible? Did I take off my shirt?

“Hey, Uncle Bob,” I said over the guy who stiffened and leaned back a little, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Hey, pumpkin. Where’ve you been?

“Out back.”

“That wasn’t you ha**ng s*x in the alley, was it? We got a call.”

Alarm pushed my stomach into my throat. I lunged forward, practically lying across the guy’s lap. “Really? Someone called the cops?”

“No,” he said into his drink. “It was a hunch. I’m good at hunches.”

“Uncle Bob!” I said, my voice a mere squeak.

I needed to know he saw Cookie without him knowing I needed to know. If he just looked at me, he’d see her. She was to my right. No way could he miss her, but he was busy nursing his drink. I cleared my throat and spoke above the crowd while summoning Teri, the bartender. “What did you find out about the woman in WITSEC?”

“Not a lot. They don’t just give out that kind of information. But I did discover one thing about your guy.”

“My guy? I have a guy? Can I get a coffee with extra coffee?” I asked Teri when she got to me.

She winked and poured. “Sure thing, hon.”

I fell a little in love with her at that moment. “What’s that?” I asked Ubie.

“He sells a lot of cars.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t really help me.” He still would not look my way. I cleared my throat again. Coughed. Had a small seizure. The man was doing it on purpose. Realization washed over me. That was why he wasn’t looking at me. He had seen her.

Uncle Bob’s phone rang and he picked it up. I glanced over at Cookie. She had a where-the-fuck-you-been? look on her face. I shrugged. She shrugged back. I pointed toward the door that led to the alley, wriggled my brows, then did the universal sign for sex, poking an index finger through the hole I’d made with the other hand. Both she and her date started laughing before he gave me a thumbs-up.

The man beside me spoke. “Would you like to switch?”

“Absolutely, but I don’t think you can wear my clothes. You’re more of an eight, maybe?”

He was even more uncomfortable. And confused. And he clearly had no sense of humor. “I meant stools. Would you like to switch barstools?”

“Oh!” I snorted. “Okay, sure.”

We switched seats and I was now closer to my beloved uncle. A fact that I had to emphasize by stealing sips of his whiskey. Straight up. Holy moly, that stuff burned all the way down. That time when I coughed, it was for real. So was the seizure. Without interrupting his conversation, Ubie patted me on the back. Hard. Hard enough to knock me forward into the bar. He was so sweet.

I decided to stick with my coffee. We loved each other, Joe and I. We would have a quiet wedding on a beach with only a few friends present, and I would be secretly praying for a blender. Surely someone would get me a blender.

Three women sat at the table right behind us. They were louder than most and difficult not to hear. I couldn’t help but catch their conversation as I waited for Ubie to get off the phone. After a quick look-see over my shoulder, I realized it was Jessica’s friends minus Jessica. Too bad. I really missed her.

“He drives a muscle car,” one of them said, clearly talking about Reyes. I could not believe he was still the main attraction. He’d been there two weeks. When would they get enough? I had a feeling even if I said yes to his proposal and slapped an engagement ring on him, they’d still come, their hearts full of hope and dreams. How could I possibly blame them? If he weren’t mine, I might do the same.