Tricks(46)

The strong aroma of brewing coffee wafted through the air and I inhaled the rich scent as I filled a glass with juice.

Strong arms slid around me from behind, looping around my waist and drawing me back against a firm chest. I closed my eyes and tried to commit the way he felt to my memory. I didn’t want to forget this.

Tucker nuzzled the side of my neck and then released me. I held the glass of OJ over my shoulder, offering him the drink.

He took it, and I busied myself with capping the carton and putting it away. I felt his eyes on me the entire time I moved. I felt the intensity of his dark gaze, the heat searing into my bones. Even though my lady parts were swollen and slightly sore, I would have welcomed him again without hesitation.

But it was morning.

Our one night together was ending.

After I poured some coffee in a mug and replaced the pot, I turned around to look at him.

He looked almost exactly like Max, but he was so incredibly different. I wanted to know more about him, more about his past, his feelings, his life.

You aren’t dating him. I reminded myself. You’re dating his brother.

At least I was… until he was murdered.

Emotion bubbled up inside me, threatening to overwhelm me, so I abandoned my mug and excused myself to the bathroom. I gripped the cold marble counter until my fingers turned white, bowing my head, and squeezed my eyes closed against all the thoughts and feelings jumbled up inside.

Being a lawyer, I knew I couldn’t hide the truth from myself. The truth always came out.

I kept the death grip on the counter but forced my eyes up so I could look into the mirror. I barely recognized myself.

My skin was flushed and pink with mild brush burns from Tucker’s unshaven face. My lips were swollen and full, my eyes clear and brighter than I’d ever seen them. My golden-blond hair was a tangled mess, waving down over my shoulders and across my chest.

I was used to seeing someone much more pulled together, someone with tightly pulled-back hair, focused eyes, and pale, unmarked skin.

I looked so much younger this way, so much more relaxed… happy.

It made me feel incredibly guilty.

How could I look so happy? How could I feel so relaxed when I just found out that Max was dead?

More still, how could I have slept with his brother—his twin?

I was a skanky, dirty, no-good ho.

Technically, I hadn’t cheated on Max, and in the world of the law, a technicality was more than enough to get someone acquitted. But this wasn’t a court of law and what I did was still a betrayal.

A single tear tracked its way over my cheek and rolled until it dripped off my face and fell onto the counter.

For days I had been living here with Tucker, so blinded by my attraction for him, so in awe of the sudden onslaught of desire that tangled me up inside I never stopped to really examine the evidence. If I had I would have known it wasn’t Max. I would have known that something was wrong.

“I’m so sorry, Max. For so many things,” I whispered, wiping more tears from my cheeks.

I couldn’t change how I spent last night. In fact, I really didn’t want to. Yes, I was ashamed that I would so quickly jump into bed with Tucker, but I didn’t regret it. I couldn’t. My body still hummed with satisfaction. I felt freed in a way I never had before.

That didn’t mean I had to repeat it.

Tucker and my relationship (if you could call it that) from here on out was strictly about finding the evidence Max left behind and getting justice for his murder. After that, we would do exactly what Tucker said. We’d go our separate ways.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door. “Did you fall in?” Tucker asked from the other side.

I rolled my eyes. He had the manners of a moose.

“No,” I answered.

“Well, standing in there gripping the counter and feeling guilty isn’t going to make anything better.”

I paused. How could he be so barbaric one moment and the next be so oddly perceptive?

“Coffee’s getting cold.” He cajoled.

With a sigh, I opened the bathroom door and was greeted with a solid wall of man. Holy smokes, he had a nice chest, all wide and muscular. The tattoo on his arm constantly drew my eye.

He needed a shirt.

Like right now.

My coffee was clutched in his long, thick fingers. Something deep inside me tingled with the memory of how well he used those fingers…

I jerked myself out of my porn dream (What the hell was happening to me? Next thing I knew I would be Googling pictures of naked men on the internet. Gross.) and grabbed my cup, taking a long swig.

“We should talk,” he said, his eyes turning serious.

We definitely needed to talk. “Yes, we should.” I stepped around him and walked toward the living room, glancing behind me to make sure he was following. He wasn’t. He was staring at my legs.