Deconstructed(19)

But that’s how I had gotten myself roped into Cricket’s escapade. Because earlier when I’d seen Cricket staring at the yellow roses with such a tragic expression and then saw the fat teardrops drip from her chin, I’d felt moved to do something.

First I had gotten her a sugary coffee drink from Starbucks when I went out to check the PO box, thinking that was at least something, but then she’d up and admitted to me that she thought Scott was cheating. At that moment, white-hot anger seared my soul. And all I could think about was how nice people like Cricket always ended up dealing with jerkoffs like Scott. Yeah, life was unfair, but sometimes that inequity just got to me. So I asked her what she needed me to do, and she had asked if she could pick me up for an assignation that night.

Sure, I was a little suspicious about what that might be, but I hadn’t imagined she’d planned surveillance on the girlfriend’s house.

Thankfully, she’d brought wine. Good booze was expensive, so I shut up, sipped the more-than-ten-dollar bottle of wine, and rationalized that it was harmless.

Of course, I hadn’t expected her to bolt and trespass. Such irrational behavior. But then again, Cricket couldn’t be logical about her husband doing the nasty with another woman. Time to get a little tough with her. After all, Cricket needed to hire an investigator, talk to an attorney, and make a plan. Harebrained schemes like breaking into someone’s backyard and snapping pictures were how a person ended up in jail. Then Scott really would have all the cards.

And now my big mouth had landed me back on Griff’s radar and with less time to study for my microeconomics quiz. All because I couldn’t help myself from wanting to right wrongs, fight injustices, and make bad guys pay. This was coded into my genetics. After all, my great-grandfather had killed the guy in that knife fight only after walking by and seeing the dude beating the crap out of his wife. Not his circus. Not his monkeys. And yet he waded into the fray like the ringmaster.

Cricket’s phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her bag. I slid a glance down, doing some spying of my own.

Where are you?

“Damn it,” Cricket groaned under her breath. She looked up at the stars winking against the black velvet above us and exhaled. “Scott beat me home.”

“So? Just tell him you went out.”

“To where?”

“The store or something. Or you can say I called you and needed something. Um, that I left the store unlocked.”

“No, I’m not throwing you under the bus.”

I snorted. “Who cares? Cover your own ass. I know how to take care of mine.”

She looked at me for a few seconds before she typed, Went to Ruby’s house to help her with some stuff for the shop. Got a flat tire on the Spider. Getting towed now.

That made sense. Maybe.

“Better to stick as close to the truth as possible,” she said.

Her phone vibrated. Ruby? The gal that works for you?

She typed Yes.

Okay. I was worried.

“Fuck you,” Cricket said.

Griffin glanced over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow.

Cricket’s cheeks pinked even in the dimness. “Oh. I said that out loud.”

That made me laugh. Griff narrowed his eyes at us sitting there like two birds on a wire, studying her phone. “She’s had a bad night.”

“I sense that,” my cousin called back, going back to work.

Still staring at her phone, Cricket said, “I don’t care that I said it out loud. I wish I could punch Scott. Or knee him in the cods. Or both.”

Another ping. We both looked at her phone.

Where’s Julia Kate?

Cricket narrowed her eyes as her fingers flew over the phone keyboard. At the Brauds’. Be home in half an hour.

I looked up as the sound of the lift stopped. Cricket’s car now sat piggyback on the tow truck.

Another ping.

Going to bed. Long day. Tired.

“I bet. Screwing someone half your age has to be hard for a fortysomething sleazeball with a mild case of ED.” Cricket clicked her phone off and tossed it back in the bag.

“He has ED?” That would be justice, at least.

“Maybe it’s only with me,” Cricket said, sounding sad.

I didn’t know what to say. Sex was something I rarely discussed with anyone. Truthfully, though many might look at me and my past and assume I’d had much experience in that department, I hadn’t. My first love had been Dakota Roberts, and we’d taken that plunge together when I was sixteen, sweetly erasing my virgin status. After he’d broken up with me, I went out with a few other guys, and their awkward and not-so-attentive lovemaking had traumatized me enough to keep me from jumping into something physical without at least having some investment beforehand. I was the wrong person to have a conversation about sex with. For real. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

Cricket’s face reflected absolute misery. “Somehow this hurts more than I thought. I’m not a frigid prude or anything, but the older I get, the less I want him touching me, taking up my time. God, some of this is my fault. I just got used to doing this or that for seven point five minutes before he returned the favor for less than three. He hasn’t even asked for sex for, like, months. Not since we got back from the Cayman Islands. Honestly, I’ve just felt relieved.”

What to say to that? I glanced over at Griffin, hoping he couldn’t hear this vulnerable admission, and then did my best to make my boss feel better about her sex life, or rather lack of one. “Well, you’ve been married for a while. Everyone settles into knowing what their partner likes, and, um, when you get older, you lose some of that initial passion. I think.”