Page 60 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
“What?” Soren says, and though I’m not looking at his face, I can hear the curiosity in his voice.
I jerk my chin at the spot where his hand is now resting lightly on my arm. “Grab me. Like you did when you first opened the door.”
This time he doesn’t say anything; his fingers wrap snugly around my wrist, warm and firm and confident.
I touch my chest with my free hand, pressing it over my heart. The reactions I would normally stifle—this time I let them free, forcing myself to acknowledge them. I feel…warm. My face feels hot. And there’s something behind my breast bone that’s pleasantly squirmy, a kind of adrenaline rush that’s both anxiety-inducing and exciting.
“Should I let go now?” Soren says, and I glance up at the sound of his voice, low and gravelly.
“Yes,” I say, startling out of my thoughts. I pull my arm out of his grasp, and he lets it go with no fight. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, his voice lower still. “I told you you could do whatever you want with me.”
My eyes dart over his face, checking his expression, but all I see is raw honesty—an open gaze, straight nose, perfect lips that are neither smiling nor frowning.
“Do you need a minute?” he says, his eyebrows quirking.
“No,” I say quickly. “No. I’m good. What’s up? You were looking for me?”
He nods. “I stepped away for a second because I had a thought. About Carmina.”
I perk up at this. “Tell me.”
“We should talk to the head of the HOA in her neighborhood. We were wondering about Mr. Foster, right? If Carmina filed complaints against him, they would be with the HOA representative,” he says.
“That’s true,” I say, thinking. If we’re looking for people who had grudges against the woman, that’s a place to start. “I bet we could find out who that is online. Maplewood is an entire community thing, right? Like they probably have a website?” I pat around in my pockets before realizing I left my phone out behind the cash register.
“Definitely,” Soren says with a nod. He’s close enough that if I inhale deeply, I can smell that sharp, peppery scent—his bodywash, maybe? “Here.” He holds out his phone. “Look it up. We can go over there later. I need to get back to my table.”
I cock one eyebrow at him as I take the phone. “Letting me poke around again?” I say.
“I have nothing to hide from you,” he says with a shrug.
From you.
I take those words, swallow them—and for the first time, I let myself think about how sweet they might taste if I were brave enough to savor them.
* * *
The headof the Maplewood homeowner’s association is one Stanley Riggs, whose address is not listed, but his phone number is. That makes sense, I guess. I wouldn’t want my address on the internet either.
I wait for Soren’s writing group to end, ringing up the small but steady trickle of customers and helping Mel at the bakery counter for a while. Even after I spot Juniper and Aiden leaving, I keep myself busy; I don’t know if Soren has more he still needs to do now that they’re gone. But he finds me several minutes later, restocking the flour and brown sugar. He leans against the doorframe of the pantry, his arms folded over his chest, and looks down at where I’m kneeling on the floor.
“Need help?” he says.
“Nah,” I say, emptying the bag of brown sugar into the large canister. It comes out in clumps, that sweet molasses smell wafting past me. “I’m almost done.”
“Did you find anything about the HOA?” he says.
“I did.” I close the canister lid and then stand up, massaging my lower back. “His name is Stanley Riggs; there’s a screenshot of his number on your phone.” I pull his phone out of my pocket and pass it to him.
“No address?” he says.
“No.” I wince as I try to knead the muscles in my back. “And I don’t understand how I’m already having aches and pains at my age. I’m thirty-one. Isn’t that still considered a woman’s prime?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Soren says, his voice musing. His gaze drops to my torso. “I’d offer to give you a massage, but considering that I basically tackled you when you licked me…” His blue eyes flash as they return to mine. “Who knows what I might do if I actually got my hands on you.”
Oh.
