Chapter 1
Sassy and sexy were two of Christopher LaSalle's favorite things in women, and the blonde woman in his arms was definitely both. She had a mess of curly blonde hair that was only just held back by a hair clip, bright eyes and she reached his earlobes in height. She was wearing some kind of cream-colored blouse with a high neck and poofy long-sleeves that didn't look out of place in the store, wide dark brown palazzo pants that could have been mistaken for a skirt, and black booties.
As for how she wound up in his arms, well, he was still trying to figure that out. When he and Pride had entered the store, Brooks and Dunn's I've Got a Lot to Learn was playing over the store speakers and the woman had been dancing across the store, clipboard in hand as she made notes about something. When she'd come in front of him, he'd impulsively snagged her and she, after being startled, grinned at him and then they were both dancing across the store to the rhythmic country beat, the woman clearly knowing the lyrics.
He and Dwayne Pride were at Haddy's Antique Glassware because they had been asked to pick up some decanters that Pride's brother, Jimmy Boyd, had bought from the store but had been unable to take with him at the time.
"Hi there," she said, smiling breathlessly, once the song was over. "Can I help you?"
"Chris LaSalle, NCIS. Nice to meet you," he said, grinning at her. "This is Dwayne Pride," he said, nodding at his friend and boss.
"My brother, Jimmy Boyd, sent me to pick up some decanters for the Trutone," Pride said, smiling at the woman.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Rayhanah Metcalf, but friends call me Ray," Ray said, shaking the men's hands, showing Chris a firm grip. Her accent suggested she was from the same place as he was; Alabama.
"I can do that," Chris said, flashing her his most charming grin. It worked, and Ray blushed, tucking a stray curl behind one ear.
Clearing her throat, Ray asked, "May I see some identification, please?" Pride showed her his driver's license, and she made a note on her clipboard. "One moment, please," she said, heading for a pair of swinging bar doors at the back of the store, the two men following her to the store counter. The store may have had an antique feel and look to it, but the touchscreen terminal and payment terminal said the store was equipped with modern conveniences. Ray emerged a moment later with a cardboard box with a recent date, and the word BOYD on it in black marker.
"Wow, those are nice," Chris said, as Pride pulled one of them out. The crystal cut glass gleamed in the light.
"Got 'em at an estate sale for the late Reginald Bartholomew. Fellow loved his drinks and I was able to get a good deal on some stuff there," Ray explained.
"Reginald Bartholomew the Third?" Pride asked, eyes going a bit wide, recognizing the name.
"One and the same. Reggie the Fourth was quite happy to sell me this stuff once I explained my business, and the promise that the pieces would go to where they would be appreciated."
"Trust me, they will be appreciated," Pride said, admiring the other bottles. "Do I need to sign anything?" he asked, placing the bottles back in the box.
"Just a receipt that says these were picked up, which I will get as soon as I can find the damn thing," Ray muttered, poking around her desk, her brow furrowing.
While she did that, Chris took the time to poke around the store. Haddy's Antique Glassware was one of those stores that could be easily overlooked, until you got curious enough to look closer. And then, once you did, it was a feast for the eyes. Everywhere you looked, there was glass of all shapes, sizes, and colors. If it was made of glass, regardless of how it was meant to be used, it was there. There was even a glass and porcelain men's shaving set that would have set someone back a neat hundred.
On one table was a box full of glass door handles some renovator or interior decorator would be glad to get their hands on. Hanging from the ceiling, cords curled neatly, were several hanging chandeliers and lamps, their metals gleaming as brightly as their glass, just like the jewelry boxes nearby. Chris glanced up and spotted a cobalt blue glass hanging swag lamp, wire coiled neatly beside it.
"Do any of these work?" he called, studying the lamp.
"They do. Wires have been updated and connections cleaned. If you know what you're doing, the ceiling ones can be installed easily enough," Ray called back. "Anything electrical like that, I personally make sure that it gets checked over by a certified electrician."
"You get a lot of stuff like that?" Pride asked, impressed with the way the store was laid out. He spotted a hurricane lamp he was sure his daughter, Laurel, would love.
"Ever since I started cleaning this place up, oh yeah. Damn it, Mary, where'd you put my book this time?" Ray muttered. She finally went over to a rocking chair in one corner and poked around the drawer of the side table, pulling out a receipt book with the store name on it. "Ah ha! Not funny, Mary!"
She went back to the counter and quickly found the page she was looking for. "Here we go," she said. Pride quickly signed the page and she gave him the duplicate copy. "As for that lamp, it normal goes for fifty, but if you keep smiling at me like that, and you buy me a drink at the Trutone, I'm willing to drop that in half, with the added condition that you promise me you'll take care of it," she said, sauntering over to Chris, a playful grin on her face.
Chris smiled even wider at her. "I give you my word as a federal agent I will take care of it. I even have a place in mind for it," he said, turning on the charm, which resulted in another blush going across Ray's face.
"In that case, I think we have a deal. Let me find a ladder, a box for the lamp, and write up the paperwork," she said.
"But are you sure you can make that kind of deal?" Chris asked.
"I'm the manager here; you're damn right I can," Ray shot back, heading for the back, causing both men to chuckle in amusement.
"Smooth," Pride said, joining Chris.
"She's sassy and sexy, two of my favorite qualities in women," Chris said. "And she can dance."
"And from what Jimmy tells me, she's smart," Pride said. "She's a former paralegal for City Hall, who got out before Hamilton's administration came crashing down."
"Sexy, sassy, and smart, all of my favorite things," Chris said.
"Does it help that I like college football and can get just as loud as the next person during college football playoffs?" Ray asked, returning with a box and a stepladder.
Chris grinned. "Which college?"
"Alabama University. I attended Gadsden Community only because I got a scholarship there for the Paralegal program, but I attended every Crimson Tide football game I could," Ray said, carefully unhooking the lamp from the ceiling hook and placing it in the box. The two men followed her back to the counter and she quickly did up the order, with Chris paying by debit card. She handed Chris the receipt and he noticed it had a phone number on it.
He grinned, reached into his wallet, and pulled out one of his business cards. "Seven-thirty, Trutone?" he asked, writing his personal cell phone on the back.
"Done and done," Ray said, accepting the business card. "Nice doing business with you, gentlemen."
"Likewise, ma'am," Chris said, still grinning.
As they left the store, Pride smirked at his friend. "Since when do you buy a shag lamp?"
"Since I started chasing a certain blonde with more curls than my curly fries," Chris said, grinning.
"Well, if you're not careful about the way you install that lamp, you're going to have matching hair," Pride shot back.
"That's when I call an electrician," Chris said.
As the door to Haddy's closed, Ray couldn't get the grin off her face. Chris was cute, he had a nice set of biceps and shoulders, and a smile that made her feel like a giggling teenager from an all-girl school who had just gotten a smile from her crush.
A motion caught her eye; the rocking chair was moving, even though there was no one in the chair.
Ray huffed. "Don't get your bloomers in a twist, Mary. I'll get you a fresh cup of tea, but you behave. It's been a while since I've had a date, and Chris was charming and looked like he could be fun, and a little fun never hurt anyone."
She headed for the back of the store, already thinking about what she might wear for the date that night, and wondering whether or not she should put a condom in her purse just in case. She didn't go past first base on the first date very often, if ever, but with Chris LaSalle, she wouldn't mind making an exception to the case.
At seven-thirty that night, at the Trutone, Chris swore he'd swallowed his tongue. Ray had just walked in, and she'd changed her clothes. Now she was wearing black thigh high boots with embroidery detailing and chunky heels, snug jeans that hugged her hips and thighs, a black satin camisole top, and a long black lace jacket. Her hair, previously held back, was now in a cascade of curls around her shoulders and face. As for her face, she'd done that dark eyeliner thing that women were good at, and her lips were tinted 'kiss me' pink. Glittery glass studs were in her ears, and a black choker with glittering glass details completed her look.
"Hey there," he said, joining her at the bar.
Her face lit up. "Hi," she said, her voice husky. With the way she was looking at him, he was glad he'd taken the time to change his shirt into something a bit more dressy, and clean up a bit.
"Hey there," Jimmy said, joining them, a grin on his face. "What's your poison tonight?"
"Black tea and rum, please," Ray said, flashing Jimmy a smile.
"Whatever's on tap tonight," Chris said.
"Beer and a black tea and rum coming up," Jimmy said. "By the way, I was right; found a perfect spot for those decanters." He pointed to a spot behind the bar, where the decanters gleamed in the light.
"Perfect," Ray said, smiling. She turned to Chris once Jimmy left to take care of their order. "So you're a federal agent, huh? Sounds like fun."
"It has its moments. Pride said you were a paralegal for City Hall but got out before Hamiliton came crashing down," Chris said.
"That's right. Saw the writing on the wall and decided to get out before something bad happened. Besides, the only reason I was a paralegal was because it was a means of escaping a small hole-in-the-wall town in Alabama. You know it's getting bad when the local sheriff knows you by name. I got lucky and got a scholarship to Gadsden and got the hell out as fast as I could," Ray said.
"You in trouble much?" Chris asked.
"Nope, but Mama was the town drunk, especially after Geema died when I was fourteen."
"And your dad?"
"Nonexistent, but from what little I was told, no big loss. Besides, I managed just fine without him. Geema kept me on the straight and narrow, and after she passed, Big May did the rest. She was the town aunt and you either loved her to bits or hated her very soul. Guess which side Ma was on?"
"The hating part, and I'm betting you were on the loving part," Chris said.
"Right as rain. What about you? What made you put that fancy badge on and come out here?"
"Worked Vice for a while after graduating from AU, and met Pride during Hurricane Katrina. Decided I liked his job better than mine, and decided it was more fun chasing after him than being in the NOPD," Chris said. "I got family in Alabama, but they're scattered all over the place these days. Besides, my family is here, with my teammates. Sometimes, family is what you make it, not what you're born to."
"I hear ya there," she said.
Their drinks came, and Chris moved them to a quiet corner of the bar, if such a thing was possible, given the fact that a live band was kicking up, and ignoring the grins from his friends.
An hour passed, and they chatted about everything and anything, and somehow their fingers tangled and their knees were touching. He found himself running his thumb over the ring on her right hand, which she explained was black tourmaline, and she seemed in no hurry to pull away. In fact, she seemed to lean closer.
Then she threw a glance at her watch, an Apple Watch, toggled it for the time, and cursed.
"As much as I would love to continue this, and trust me, I would, I need to head home. I have to open the store tomorrow," she said, "and I don't want to scare off my customers by looking like a zombie."
"Fair enough. You live far from here?" he asked, knowing she'd taken an Uber.
"Right above the store," she said.
"I can take you home," he offered, not ready to let the night end.
"Offer accepted," she said.
At the store, Chris was surprised to see a lamp glowing in the store. "Is that normal?" he asked, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
"That's Mary, and that's a story for another time," Ray said, looking at him with eyes that said very clearly she wasn't interested in talking so much as doing.
And then she was in his arms and he was quickly discovering that her kissable lips were just that; very, very kissable.
After a long, heated moment, they came up for air.
"There's going to be a second date," he swore.
"Start thinking about what you're making for dinner, cutie, and I'll be there," she promised, liking how his hands felt on her face and on her body.
"I'll call you. But right now, you'd better run, because if you don't, you won't make it out of this truck with your shirt still on," he said, knowing he was going to have problems when he got home in a bit, and that didn't include the teasing and questions from his friends.
She groaned, reluctantly tearing herself out of his warm, inviting arms and away from his sinful mouth. "I'm running."