Though his address is unlisted, I dial Yates, and it goes straight to voicemail. Keyed up, I throw all my cards on the table and snarl into the receiver. “Listen here,ye—”
“Baby, are you talking to Mable?”
“Aye.” Biting my lip, I stop hunching over my laptop and shove on a smile. Chevelle appears in the doorway, wearing a silky blue slip dress that has my dick twitching, despite my predicament.
Effortlessly, I press the off button with my thumb while continuing to talk. “Mable, allye gotta do is go to the short-term parking lot at the airport. I’m emailing them my driver’s license and a short statement. They know yer coming.”
Feck, my wife’s still standing there.
I continue the charade. “Mhmm . . . mhmmm . . . aye. Cat food and a new cathouse. Nice doing business withye.” I make like I’m hanging up before adding, “Hag.”
Chevelle shakes her head, laughing, oblivious to my deception. “Cathouse?”
Feck, I hate myself for this. “Aye. Cathouse. Like doghouse for cats, lass. Be glad ye’ll never be in such a predicament.”
Leaning against the doorframe, she smiles. “Thank you for snatching me off the market. Anyway, I believe they’re called cattrees. So, would it have been cheaper to leave the car in the lot for five days or?”
I rise from the computer chair and round the desk, finishing her question. “Be exploited by an auld biddy with sweatytits?”
“Leith, my self-esteem might take a hit soon. We discuss your roommate’s breastswaytoo much.” She grins, fisting her breasts in her hands. “I don’t have much of these.”
“Och, but ye got all thatarse. Still, I like these.” I reach down, replacing one of her hands with my own, and give her neck a wee nibble. “Nae. I’m gonna take my two sweethearts to dinner. When we return, and Mia falls asleep, I’ll correct any concerns ye have about these sweet, round tits.”
Chevelle kisses me again, mumbling about makeup as she leaves the room. The warm smile on my face fades as I stomp back over to the laptop to find my car.My feckin’ dream car.LoJack has been disabled. Aye, I should be more concerned about the DNA evidence in the trunk. But I’m not. My enemy has his sins, and I’ll find them out.
Chapter 29
Leith
I’m stillhotter than deep-fried tatties when the host escorts us through an outdoor seafood restaurant. We stop at a white linen table with a real candle and all the adornments my lasses love. The ocean wind feathers through Chevelle’s hair as I help her into a seat.
The maître d', who knows our family by name, adds a booster seat to Mia’s chair. On the table, he places crayons and a coloring book.
While Mia leans against the banister, looking out into the water, I crouch down to her level. “Hag, dinna forget to be on yer best behavior.”
“Daddy, I saw something.”
“Hmmm,” I glance across the darkening sea, already aware this is a setup.
“Pirate’s ship!” She shouts.
“Och, Mia! Ye’re too loud.” For once, I’m reprimanding her before my wife can. Actually, Chevelle isn’t saying a word when I wrestle our daughter away from the railing. Chevelle’s eyes are glued to an auld, black couple. They’re staring at her, too. I give them the once over, though I can’t place either of their faces. The lad’s a suit and tie type, while his mate dresses like my mam.
I’m planting Mia’s behind into the booster seat when the couple stands. I’ve settled across from Mia, looping an arm over Chevelle, when I realize the couple is heading toward us and not just a view of the ocean.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nix.” Chevelle smiles, moonlight hitting her tear-filled eyes.
The lass clasps her hands together. “Carla Anderson, I thought—”
“That’s not my mommy’s name,” Mia cuts in.
“Wheesht, shhh!” I cut my hand through the air. Though I’m at a loss for much of Chevelle’s past, I understand my wife’s reason to continue disassociating herself with her parents. The bitch who raised her was just as bad as the man she once called Da.
Chevelle introduces the couple as members of a Baptist church in Chicago. The wife says how they still attend the church. Tension slows the conversation and cuts down the smiles between them.
“We have to keep in touch,” Mrs. Nix’s eyes warm over like hot chocolate.
“Sure,” Chevelle removes her phone from her tiny clutch. They exchange numbers, except my wife alters the one she gives them. I catch her eye, knowing it was on purpose. When they leave, Mia has a quizzical look on her face.