Page 45 of Gator's Gambit
The added pressure and friction of her muscles milking me for all she’s worth has me flying over the edge right behind her. My legs now feeling like jelly from the force of my climax, I turn sideways and drop to the bed, tucking Fancy close to my body, making sure I don’t land on her or hurt her.
For long minutes we lie, half on, half off the bed, heaving for breath. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I could almost swear I hear Fancy purring as we lay plastered together.
Coming back from the bathroom, I find her resting against the pillows, a smile stretching her lips. I climb onto the bed beside her and pull her back into my arms, cradling her head against my shoulder.
My heart full, my body replete, I breathe the subtle scent of Fancy’s perfume deep into my lungs. In that moment, all is right in my world.
“Stay with me?” I barely hear her soft request.
“Sure. I can do that.”
Her only response is a contented sigh as she snuggles deeper into my embrace. I wait a bit to see if she’ll say anything else, but then I realize her breathing’s deep and even. Sleep, it would seem, has claimed my girl.
Equally content myself, I drop a kiss on the top of Fancy’s head and settle down to follow her into the arms of sweet slumber. I had intended broaching the topic of our relationship and where it’s headed that I started the other day when Bear interrupted it and sent us on a tangent that ruined the moment. But tomorrow’s soon enough.
22
EVAN
Jabber, jabber, jabber.
That’s all these fucking women do. Word vomit. I swear, I have no idea how their men put up with their constant talking. My sweet Angelique, she was a quiet one. Never had much to say, but when she did, the words counted.
Rummaging through the glovebox in search of headache pills, I almost miss them entering one of the buildings. I’m sitting on Main Street, trying to blend in with the rest of the tourists despite the early hour. At least there always seems to be movement around here, making it easier to disappear into the scenery.
A discreet sign above the entrance proclaims this business to be Serenity Haven Day Spa.
It’s going to take a bit of finagling to get in there, but I need eyes and ears on the bitch. Time’s running out, and I need to take care of her, but I need to know her movements so I can figure out a strategy.
Spotting a man, clearly gay, go into the spa, I hit upon a plan. I scramble out of the vehicle, pop coins into the meter – it really wouldn’t do to get a ticket or the car to get towed – and dash into the building behind the man.
“Good day, sir. How may I be of assistance?” A young woman, whose name tag identifies her as Micaela, enquires.
“Hello. I’m meant to be meeting my husband here and I’m running late – story of my life. I think I saw him come in just ahead of me. He’s about yea tall, dark hair, wearing a green sweater and black pants.”
“Oh yes.” She consults her appointment book. “Mr. Brennan?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Can you point me in the right direction, please? We’re meant to be here destressing and, Lord knows, I don’t need him yelling at me for being late, again.”
“Yes, of course. Follow the hall down to the end and take a left turn. The changing rooms are second door on the right.”
“Bless you, thanks,” I say, waving as I dash down the hall as if chasing after the man.
Rounding the corner, I check to make sure I’m out of sight. I stop to survey my surroundings and spot the ladies’ changing rooms diagonally opposite the men’s. As luck would have it, though, there’s a small alcove a little further down the hall where I have a clear view of the door.
I hurry to the spot and settle in before anyone can come along, making it seem as if I’m meant to be there and not simply loitering outside the changing rooms. Pretending to be busy on my phone, I keep an eagle eye out, but when thirty minutes pass and no one comes out, I begin to wonder if I’m in the right place.
Just as I’m about to give up and am considering my options, the Giggling Gaggle come out in their spa-issue robes and slippers, hair up in the obligatory messy buns. They’re so busy chattering no one pays attention to little ‘ole me. Except for a statuesque beauty with hair the color of raven wings.
Her gaze lingers on me momentarily when she spots me sitting in the alcove by myself. Dropping my gaze, I pretend toget back to something on my phone but continue to track their progress from under my lashes.
My ears prick up when I hear them discussing their dinner plans at some restaurant in the heart of the city – “a hidden gem,” according to one of them. Making a mental note of the name, I’ll check it out once the women are out of sight and earshot. For now, I need to mine all the information I can.
If I’m going to finish this, knowing where my enemy is at all times is key.
When, finally, I can no longer hear the yammering, I open the browser on my phone and search for Jade Garden – tonight’s restaurant of choice. Studying the images offered up, a calm settles over me as I plot exactly how I’m going to kill Fancy Gilmore.
Tonight, the bitch will die, and I’ll finally get to go be with my love.
