“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. It’d feel wrong to take your money. We’re family now. I think a stranger would be better. That way, I’ll never be tempted to go by or anything.”
“Of course. I shouldn’t have made the suggestion.”
She pats my forearm, her fingers cold as a lizard. “You were just trying to help. By the way, I’m going to do a barbecue this Saturday.”
“You are?” I feign perking up. “Am I going to be invited?”
She laughs. “Of course. You haven’t lived until you’ve had my ribs. Now, why don’t you wait just a moment? I have something for you.”
“You do?” Maybe it’s more steak. I could work with that. Another excuse to stop by if I need to later.
“Yes. I know you took a shine to my divine bovines. And I’m almost done with my latest.”
Uh-oh…
“So I’d like to give you the one you were looking at yesterday. It’s my favorite—”
“In that case, there’s no way I could accep—”
“—but I think you will enjoy it more than me.” She beams.
Oh. Fuck. Me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Devlin
The demonic cow stares at me from the passenger seat. I was going to dump it in the trunk, but couldn’t with Margaret waving and smiling from her front porch.
I park the Maserati in front of Becca’s home and pick up the cow. Its eyes are wide, round and soulless. Freaky as shit. And that flat mouth. Ugh. I shake the thing, wondering why Margaret really wanted to give it to me. Maybe there’s a video camera hidden inside.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, considering what to do, while the cow stares at me. I should stick the damn thing in the trunk. Never to see the light of the day again. If Margaret ever asks about it, I’ll just say I forgot.
My mind made up, I climb out and go to the trunk. Before I can toss it inside, somebody hugs me from behind.
“It’s you!” comes a girlish voice.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I unpeel the arms from around me, then push away. “What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.
Sylvie gives me a smile, fluttering her eyelashes. “I live around here.”
“In this particular cul-de-sac?” If she does, Becca would’ve said something, I’m sure. It’s only fair and proper to warn your husband against the local wildlife.
“No, but close enough that I can see you come and go.”
Ugh. It’s like being pursued by paparazzi, minus the cameras and infuriating headlines. “Don’t you have a job or something?”
She puts her hand on her cocked hip and smiles proudly. “I work at the Tex-Mex restaurant across from the gas station on Main Street. I’m a waitress there, and a damn good one.”
“How productive,” I say sincerely. At least she’s employed.
“But my shift isn’t until later.” And—apparently inspired—she shifts herself to push her tits out.
“Good for you.” I look down at the cow. No dumping it in the trunk now. Not when there’s a witness.
“Look.” She steps closer, trapping me between my car and her boobs, which are impressive inside what has to be a push-up bra. They weren’t this big last night. “I know why you turned me down yesterday.”
I doubt it. If she did, she wouldn’t be pressing herself against me like this. “You do?”