Page 118 of The Body in the Backyard
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It was before we were engaged, and I didn’t pay attention to things like that.”
These two yahoos were going to make a mockery of the thing Nick had finally decided to take seriously: marriage. It annoyed him enough to self-soothe with the rest of his hot cocoa. He set the empty cup down with a snap.
“When did Chupacabra start working for you? Was it before or after Griffin got back from his ‘special treatment’?”
Bella pursed her lips, then brightened. “After. Yes! That’s right. She came on the show for the small business segment Griffin hosts, but it was one of his first days back on the show. He couldn’t do the leg workout she had planned, so the producers had me stand in for him. She said I was pretty and offered me a discount on in-home workouts during the commercial break.”
“How much of a discount?”
“Buy one workout, get three free every single week.”
Nick pouredhimself another cup of hot cocoa on his way out and went in search of Riley and Hector. As much as it annoyed him to admit, Bella Goodshine didn’t fit as primary suspect. Mainly because the only money she had was Griffin’s. Unless of course she’d found a richer guy willing to help her clear the decks. But then why wouldn’t she have just left Griffin?
He’d almost reached the end of the hallway when he heard a familiar moan.
“What the hell?” he demanded, stopping in the open doorway of the last room on the right.
Riley was facedown on a massage bed—fully clothed, thank freaking God—and Hector’s hands were on her. “You have beautiful spinal flexibility,” Hector told her.
“It’s the yoga,” she said on another sex-noise moan.
“I thought I told you not to let this guy talk you into bed,” Nick complained.
“You’ve got to try this N–Matty,” Riley slurred, sounding like she’d just stumbled out of one of Mrs. Penny’s happy hours. “He’s magic.”
Hector helped Riley sit up, steadying her when she wobbled dreamily.
“Yeah, I’m not really into the whole stranger-rubbing-me-down-while-someone-plays-the-pan-flute thing,” Nick confessed, glaring Hector down.
“You’ve never experienced a massage?” Hector asked. A single silver eyebrow arched gracefully.
“It’s not really my jam. But clearly it ismy wife’sjam.”
“Please. Allow me to show you,” Hector said, gesturing toward the table.
Riley all but collapsed against Nick. “You have to.”
“No.”
She cupped his face in her hands. They smelled vaguely of chocolate. “I’m asking you to be brave and do this one nice thing for yourself.”
“I’m brave. I’m fucking heroic. I got shot at and thwarted a robbery. I carry on conversations with your grandmother,” he reminded her.
“Then you must try,” Hector said, patting the massage bed.
“Fine. But I’m going to hate every second of it,” Nick promised.
“I’m going to go get some tea,” Riley said dreamily as she floated out of the room.
“Get the hot cocoa,” Nick said, reluctantly putting his face in the squishy round cradle at the top of the bed. Every muscle in his body was as rigid as Home Depot’s lumber section. The things he did for his woman.
He stiffened when Hector’s hands skimmed over his shoulders.
“So much tension,” Hector mused. “You must carry many responsibilities.”
“Actually my life is pretty chill—oh God. Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Nick moaned as Hector’s fingers gripped his rigid shoulders.
“Relax into my touch,” Hector said, his voice soothing.
