Just Between Us.... Tori Carrington

Just Between Us... - Tori  Carrington


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by, then reapplied peach-colored lip gloss that Mallory suspected she could see her reflection in if she leaned in close enough. “My landlord just kicked me out this morning so I need some quick cash to look for a place.”

      Mallory pointed her finger at the hooker then back at herself. “You and me both.”

      Coco leaned back in order to get a better overall look at Mallory. “Girl, you’ve got to work on your appearance if you hope to get any business.”

      Mallory nearly choked. “Strangely enough, talking to you now is working for me.” She flipped her notepad closed and considered the other, um, woman. All she had to do was say the word and Candy Cane would snap up Coco without batting an eyelash. Lost causes seemed to be her middle name. As long as Coco didn’t have any animal allergies, these two people who shared the same vocation would get along famously. “Look, I have a friend in my apartment complex who would be willing to put you up until you find a place. What would it mean to you if I gave this friend a call and checked it out for you?”

      “Monetarily?” Coco asked.

      “Information wise.”

      Coco stared at her unblinkingly. “On The Red Gardenia?”

      Mallory nodded.

      Coco took three quick drags off her cigarette then picked a piece of tobacco off her tongue as she considered the proposition. “Where’s this place?”

      Mallory had her and she knew it.

      Yes! Her first real lead in The Red Gardenia case.

      Her smile slipped.

      Well, it wasn’t really a lead. But it was information that the police didn’t appear to have. Of course, she had to remind herself, her goal wasn’t to actually solve the case, but rather to create a more vivid picture of the young actress who had been murdered twenty-five years ago.

      But if she did happen to solve the case…

      She shivered all over.

      Behind her Jack’s horn blew again.

      “Do you have time to go see the place now?” Mallory asked.

      WHERE DOES SHE FIND these people?

      Jack pulled up outside Mallory’s apartment complex then glanced in his rearview mirror where “Coco” was staring into a round compact repairing his mask. Jack squeezed and released the steering wheel several times. Two large, faded tapestry suitcases were in his trunk. Lord only knew what they held.

      Surely Mallory wasn’t going to let Coco move in with her.

      “Do you want to come to Candy’s with me, or wait here?”

      Jack knew a moment of relief. Good. She was taking the aging transvestite to Candy’s. He tried to make out if Coco’s cleavage was real. Well, not real, but surgically or hormonally enhanced. Oh, yeah, there were real swells there, all right. Then what would that make him? A transsexual? He supposed it all depended on if his original equipment was still intact.

      He glanced at Mallory to find her glaring at him.

      What? he asked silently.

      Then he realized she was piqued because he’d been staring at Coco’s cleavage.

      “So?” she asked.

      “So what?”

      “Are you going to wait here or come with us?”

      He considered her for a long moment. He’d been with her for the past two hours and she had yet to breathe one word about last night. In fact, he would have thought she’d forgotten about it altogether if not for the wary shadow he saw in her brown eyes. She’d never been wary around him before.

      “None of the above,” he replied.

      “Meaning?”

      “Meaning I’m going home.”

      “You can’t.”

      Jack turned to look Coco full in the face. “Do you mind waiting outside?”

      “Outside? As in outside the car?”

      “Is there any other outside?” he asked.

      Mallory gaped at him. “I’m sorry, Coco. Domestic issues.”

      Mallory climbed from the car to let the aging, questionable prostitute out of the two-door car, then she got back in. He watched Coco walk to stand behind the car, out of earshot.

      “You can tell her…him he can take care of his own suitcases from here on out, too.”

      Mallory made a sound of indignation. “What’s gotten into you, Jack? You’re being so…rude.”

      Well, well, well. Look who was calling the kettle black. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens to a man when the woman he’s…interested in ignores his advances for something more.”

      “Are we back to that again?” she asked.

      “We never left it, Mall.”

      She got out of the car again, then popped her dark head of curls back through the open window. “Stay put. You and I…we need to powwow.”

      Powwow? Had she really just said powwow?

      But as he sat watching her struggle with Coco’s suitcases, then waddle toward Candy’s, her jeans molded to her pert little bottom, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

      Damn it.

      He picked up his travel coffee cup and put it to his lips only to find it empty.

      He grimaced. Was he seeing a pattern here or what?

      What remained was whether or not he had the balls to do anything about it.

      LATER THAT NIGHT Mallory flopped down on what she thought might be her couch hiding under clean laundry she had draped over it the day before. Of course, the dryer would have to break down in the middle of her load. And she hadn’t had a chance to fold the things and put them away yet. She supposed she might do it now, but…well, as she looked at Jack, other, more important, things came to mind.

      Jack stood in the middle of the room, staring down at her while wearing the same expression he’d been wearing all day. At least five times she’d had to talk him out of leaving her to go home. And each time he’d grown sulkier and sulkier.

      “Are we done now?” he muttered, his hands fisted and shoved deep into the pockets of his cargo jeans.

      Mallory allowed her gaze to drift over him. He was quite a man, this Jack Daniels. Wherever they went, women openly ogled him, making no secret of their interest. Not that Jack paid any attention. He was completely oblivious to the attention he received. And when he did catch wind of it—like when she, Layla and Reilly jokingly threw cat calls his way every now and again—he’d mumble and curse and move out of sight as fast as he could.

      Now she watched him shift his weight from his right foot to his left, his present discomfort level rising with the sweep of her gaze from his loafer-clad feet to his snug black T-shirt.

      She’d begun the exercise of giving him a provocative once-over to tease him. And while it was working—as she’d known it would—she also found herself getting a little more than turned on.

      Mmm…

      “Can I leave now?” he said, obviously clenching his teeth.

      “Nope,” she said, using the word he’d used on her all day.

      His bedroom-brown eyes narrowed. “Mallory…”

      “Jack…” she said, reaching for the hem of her T-shirt and pulling it over her head.

      She knew he loved to see her undergarments. She might not be a total fashion plate, but just as she took extra care in picking her comment-laden T-shirts, she also took great pleasure in choosing her lingerie


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