“Perhaps we need to have a chat in the breezeway,” I suggested and Mitch burst out laughing. For some reason, Billie did too. I yanked my leg from his hold and stepped out of reach. “Seriously, Mitch, we need to chat,” I pushed.
Mitch was still smiling huge when he stated, “Happy to chat with you, sweetheart, but there’s no way we’re doing it in the breezeway.”
“Fine,” I snapped, whirled and marched to my bedroom.
It wasn’t a great option but it was the only option. The kids’ room was their room and I wanted them to think of it that way. The bathroom in the hall was too small. So my bedroom was my only choice.
By the time I dumped the paper towel in my bathroom bin and Mitch made it to my room, I was in the bedroom. I had my arms crossed on my chest, a foot out and my mind focused on not tapping my toe mostly because if my mind focused on anything else, I might be moved to acts of violence.
Mitch closed my door and then leaned against it, crossing his arms on his chest, his eyes moving the length of me.
“Cute nightie,” he muttered, my head shot down and my hands moved immediately to close my robe over my little, cream, stretchy-cotton nightie with the tiny pink flowers on it.
I tied the robe tight, rethinking my actions of rushing out of my room in a tizzy before donning seven layers. Then I crossed my arms on my chest again and leveled my gaze on Mitch.
I opened my mouth to speak. Then I closed it. Then I opened it again. Then I closed it.
Then I said, “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“How ‘bout you begin by comin’ here and givin’ me a good morning kiss?” Mitch suggested.
I felt my eyes narrow.
Then I announced, “I know where to begin.”
His lips twitched before he invited, “Have at it.”
“First, we use coasters in the Mara Hanover household,” I declared.
Another lip twitch from Mitch then, “So noted.”
“Second,” I continued, “we have boundaries.”
“Boundaries?” Mitch repeated.
“Yes, boundaries,” I replied on a nod of my head. “Such as, we’re in here because Billy and Billie’s room is their room and I want them to feel that’s their space.”
“All right,” Mitch agreed.
“Another example would be this,” I threw out a hand, “is my space and when I’m in here alone, sleeping, no one is allowed to come in here and, say, turn off my alarm clock.”
“Is anyone, say, me, allowed to come in here when you aren’t sleeping? Say, when you’re awake, in that cute nightie, you lose the robe and you personally show me the exceptional qualities of the Spring Deluxe?”
I leaned in an inch and informed him, “I’m not joking, Mitch.”
“Neither am I, Mara,” Mitch replied.
I sucked in breath and leaned back.
All right, I’d let that go.
“Third –” I started.
“Let’s go back to the second,” he cut me off, pushing from the door and starting toward me. “I wanna be clear about the boundaries of this room.”
I started moving back. “Mitch –”
“Just so you know, when it comes to you, I have no boundary issues about my bedroom.”
The backs of my legs hit bed and Mitch kept coming so I lifted a hand to ward him off and mumbled, “Um…”
“Just so you know,” Mitch repeated, his chest hitting my hand then his entire body stopping smack in my space, “I’m in my bed, sleeping or otherwise, you should feel free to, say, crawl into it with me and do anything you want.”
Oh God.
I was seeing that I should have stood firm on the breezeway.
“Uh…” I mumbled as Mitch’s chest pushed against my hand and his eyes went to my bed then back to me just as his hands settled on my waist.
Oh God!
“It looks comfortable, baby,” he whispered.
“Um…”
“Though, that kind of thing is try before you buy. You gonna help me out with that?”
It took effort but I pulled myself together.
“Are you making moves on me with two kids in the other room?” I asked.
“Billie had three donuts and Billy had four. In about five minutes they’re each gonna have a sugar crash and lapse into donut comas. My guess is, we have an hour.”
“Mitch, seriously, we have important things to talk about.”
“I agree. Setting the boundaries of your bed and my bed are very important.”
I leaned into him an inch and hissed, “Mitch!”
His eyes warmed. “I promise, next time I’m in here when you’re sleeping, I won’t turn off the alarm.”
“Fine, can we move on?”
He ignored me. “But that’s the only thing I’ll agree to not doing.”
Argh!
I leaned into him another inch and snapped, “Fine. Can…we…move on?”
His hands slid from my waist to my back, one arm wrapping around, one hand sliding up to between my shoulder blades as he grinned and relented, “Fine. We can move on.”
I put both hands on his chest. “I’d prefer to carry on this conversation with you not holding me.”
His arm at my waist got tight, his hand between my shoulder blades pushed in and I found my body pressed to his.
His face dipped closer to mine and he said softly, “I think that answers that request. Now, moving on?”
I stared into his eyes. Then I sighed and decided to get this over fast so I could have coffee, get ready for work and get the hell out of there.
“I’m not comfortable with you having my keys, coming in and taking the kids out of the house without me knowing it.”
To that, he asked, “How you feelin’?”
My head twitched and I asked back, “Pardon?”
“How you feelin’?” he repeated.
“I’m fine.”
“You said you slept well.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You rested?”
A whoosh swept through my belly as I understood what he was asking. He’d done what he’d done so I could sleep in.
Oh my.
“Mitch,” I whispered.
“I came over, sweetheart, they were up. You weren’t. I told them to get dressed, I turned off your alarm, took them out but I left a note. We were gone fifteen minutes, tops. You had a rough week, a crazy night and you needed to sleep.”
“Is this you helping out?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he answered just as quietly.
It was a nice thing to do. Intrusive and over the line, but nice.
Damn.
“We need to agree what other ways you’re going to help out,” I told him.
“You set up afterschool childcare?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I take them to school ‘cause it’s off your schedule but on mine. I can get away to pick them up and take them to childcare so I’ll do that too. If I’m off before you, I get them and they hang with me until you come home. You work weekend days, if I can look after them, I will. If one of your posse can’t kick in when I got something on, Ma or my sister Penny’ll do it. Those are the ways I’m gonna help out.”
I stared up at him. That wasn’t helping out. That was doing most of the tough stuff.
“That’s too much,” I pointed out the obvious.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“You have a job, a life,” I reminded him.
“I can fit this in,” he told me.
I shook my head. “I’m not comfortable with that.”
“Mara, sweetheart, I’m tellin’ you, it’s not a big deal.”
“But it is. You barely know me. You barely know them!” I was not only uncomfortable, I was getting freaked out.
“I’m gonna get to know you and the same with them.”
My head tipped to the side. “What happens when you get to know me and you don’t want to get to know me anymore? What happens to them?”<
br />
He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling then he muttered, “Christ, here we go again.”
I gave a little shove to his chest and snapped, “Mitch!” and his eyes came back to me. “Seriously.”
“Seriously?” he asked. “I can’t tell the future. All I know is, right now, I want to get to know you and I’m gonna set about doin’ that. I also know those two kids out there have had it tough; they need to learn the lesson that there are good people in this world who give a shit because their Dad sure as fuck doesn’t. I’m tellin’ you I’m willin’ to step in and help them learn that lesson. We’re both adults. We’re both decent people. Because of that, those two, whatever happens with us, won’t feel it.”
“I don’t –”
“Mara,” his arms gave me a squeeze, “baby, you’ve got to live in the now. Not in your head. Not controlled by your fears. You can’t live for what might happen five months in the future. You got issues you gotta face today. You gotta deal with them now. You got two kids who count on you and their lives aren’t gonna go perfect every day because you weigh every decision you make and tread cautiously. Those options are no longer available to you. You’re gonna have to live day to day and make decisions on the fly. And I’m tellin’ you I’m here to help. You need it and they need it. Are you honestly gonna say no?”
I pressed my lips together finding it annoying when he was right.
I didn’t tell him that. Instead I changed the subject.
“There are other things we need to talk about.”
He stared at me a second then shook his head once and sighed.
Then he said, “Yeah, the Trailer Trash Twins.”
“Well, actually, no,” I told him. “I was referring to, um…what, uh…what happened last night.”
He smiled and shook his head again. “Jesus, you can’t even say it.”
My eyes narrowed and then I informed him, “I don’t need to say it to tell you it’s not going to happen again.”
His head jerked slightly back as he stared at me. Then he burst out laughing.
“Mitch!” I snapped, slapping his chest with one of my hands.
Still chuckling, he remarked, “Fuck, that was funny.”
“I wasn’t being funny,” I retorted.
Now only grinning, he said, “You’re tellin’ me after the three best kisses you’ve ever had, kisses you had with me, you’re never gonna kiss me again?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“You’re standing in your bedroom, in my arms, wearin’ your cute nightie and robe, tellin’ me you’re never gonna kiss me again.”
“Yes!” I bit out.
“You’re cracked.”
“I am not!” My voice was rising.
“That’s okay, sweetheart, it’s cute.”
“I’m not cracked!”
Suddenly, his face was all I could see and that face was serious as a heart attack.
“It’s gonna happen again, Mara,” he promised me. “I’m gonna kiss you and you’re gonna kiss me. I’m gonna do other things to you and you’re gonna do other things to me. No way in hell even you can share a kiss with a man like the ones we shared last night and not explore where that could go.”
“Mitch –”
“Tell yourself all you want it’s not gonna happen but I’m tellin’ you, baby, it is.”
“I think –”
“That subject’s closed,” he announced. “Now we’re talkin’ about the Trailer Trash Twins.”
“We need to go back to the, um…”
He stared at me. When I stopped speaking and couldn’t start up again, he noted, “Jesus, you really can’t say it.”
Crap! I couldn’t!
“Whatever,” I muttered.
His arms gave me a squeeze. “Yeah, definitely cute.”
I glared at him. “You know, Detective Mitch Lawson, most normal, sane men would run a mile from women who suddenly find themselves the guardian of two children whose father has the Russian mob after them, has trailer trash for relatives and who you think are cracked, clueless and have their heads up their asses.”
“Yeah, lucky for you I think all that’s definitely cute.”
“Trailer trash relatives aren’t cute!” I snapped the God’s honest truth.
“No, those two weren’t cute. You bangin’ your head against the wall after they left and talkin’ to me about my mother wearin’ scarves was not only cute, it was fuckin’ adorable.”
“There it is, you aren’t sane,” I declared.
Mitch just grinned at me.
Moving on!
“All right,” I stated then warned, “They’ll be back.”
“Yeah, I was guessin’ that.”
“I don’t want the kids to see them.”
“Yeah, I was guessin’ that too.”
“So we need a plan,” I told him.
“You got any ideas?”
To that, I asked, “How illegal is murder, exactly?”
He burst out laughing again. Luckily this time I was joking. Kind of.
When he quit laughing, his arms gave me another squeeze and he said, “How about this? I give Bray, Brent, LaTanya and Derek the heads up that they call me if they see them. The kids and I find somethin’ to do today that takes us out of the house. And since The Trailer Trash Twins have no clue I live across the breezeway, the kids and me hang at my place and you come get them from there when you get home tonight. They come callin’ late again, I don’t hear them from my place and intervene, you call me and I’ll intervene.”
“If they make a ruckus, the kids can still hear them shouting.”
“Yes, but I’ll have a talk with Billy today and clue him in and I’ll call a unit to come get them if they make a disturbance. Billie, we’ll play it by ear.”
This plan held merit.
“The kids go to bed before I get home. I don’t go back to nine thirties to six thirties until tomorrow.”
“They can bring their pajamas and crash at my place. I’ll carry them back when you get home.”
This wasn’t a great option but it was the only one I had so I nodded and said, “Fine.”
“I’ll call Bob Pierson today and give him a head’s up,” Mitch stated and my brows drew together.
“A head’s up about what?” I asked.
“The Trailer Trash Twins,” Mitch answered.
Oh shit. I hadn’t even thought of that.
Bill knew where I worked. The very idea of Mom and Aunt Lulamae showing up at work and the antics they might dream up while doing so made me close my eyes.
My head flopped forward so it was resting on my hands on Mitch’s chest.
Mitch’s hand came up and started massaging my neck as he murmured, “I see you didn’t think about that.”
“Bill knows where I work.”
“Unh-hunh.”
“He’ll tell them if he hasn’t already.”
“Right.”
“Shit,” I whispered.
I needed to talk to Bill. I needed to get him to call off the Trailer Trash Twins. I needed to do this because I couldn’t handle the Trailer Trash Twins but mostly because I needed to stay employed. Plus I liked my neighbors and I wanted them to continue liking me.
“Mara, sweetheart, look at me,” Mitch called.
I sucked in breath and tipped my head back to look at Mitch.
“Your boss thinks the world of you. He’ll be cool with this and protect you,” Mitch told me.
“He’s mistaken about the zone I live in too and those two show he’ll figure it out,” I shared and Mitch shook his head.
Then he remarked, “Bet you think a lot of people are mistaken about that.”
He was right therefore I made no response.
Mitch kept speaking. “Which means maybe they aren’t the ones who’re mistaken.”
Oh no. We weren’t going there again.
“I need coffee,” I announced.
Mitch studied me. Then one
side of his mouth went up in a grin and he muttered, “Right.” Then he didn’t move, except his hand which was still massaging my neck.
Therefore, I prompted, “Like…now.”
The other side of his mouth joined the first, his eyes went super warm and he smiled at me.
A whoosh slid through my belly, I bit my lip and stared.
“Can I have a kiss before coffee?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“After?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Before you leave for work?”
“No.”
“When you come home?”
I put pressure on my hands on his chest and snapped, “No!”
“All right,” he surprisingly agreed and I jumped right on it.
“Good, let me go. I need coffee and to check on the kids.”
“No.”
My head tipped to the side. “Pardon?”
“No.”
“Mitch, let me go.”
“No.”
“Mitch!”
Suddenly his hand wasn’t massaging my neck. His fingers had shifted up, curled around my scalp, he tilted my head to the side and his mouth was on mine.
Crap!
I pressed my hands against his chest and my back against his arm to no avail. I felt his tongue touch my lips, I liked it, I made a grunt of effort to push him away but my lips opened anyway and his tongue instantly slid inside. My fingers just as instantly curled into his shirt, the sweep of his tongue felt that good.
He then went on to kiss me and he did this thoroughly. I more than let him, I participated, enthusiastically.
When his head finally lifted, my dazed eyes caught his heated ones, his arms convulsed around me and he whispered, “Told you you’d kiss me again.”
I so totally hated it when he was right.
Chapter Twelve
That’s the Way It’s Gonna Be
I climbed the stairs to my unit, exhausted not because I’d suffered more emotional turmoil but because it had been a madhouse at Pierson’s Mattress and Bed that day. The bad news was, even after a good night’s sleep, I was exhausted again. The good news was, I’d sold a boatload of beds and mattresses, including two king-size Spring Deluxes. This meant Billy, Billie and I weren’t facing canned soup anytime in the near future and this made me happy even through my exhaustion.
I made it to the top and walked straight to Mitch’s door, lifted my hand to knock but the door was pulled open before my knuckles could meet its surface. My body jolted in surprise and I saw Mitch standing there then my body moved when Mitch leaned in, grasped my hand tight and pulled me inside.
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