A Love Surrendered

by Julie Lessman

  That seemed to take the wind out of her sails—her chest expanded and contracted in a slow release of air before her chin inched up. “All right . . . I’m listening.”

  He pried a hand from her hip and led her to the sofa, easing her down before sitting beside her. Replenishing his air, he took both of her hands in his. “Katie,” he whispered, forcing the words from his throat, “I . . .” He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Katie, I . . . well, I owe you an apology,” he said in a rush. There. It was out, and he wasn’t even annoyed by the drop of her chin. Thumbs grazing her palms, he forged on. “I was wrong to yell at you in the office, and I apologize.” He released a reedy breath. Okay, that wasn’t so bad.

  She arched a brow. “And?”

  Without realizing it, he began to grind his jaw. “Aaannd . . . ,” he said, dragging the word out as long as he could, “I want you to know I respect your opinion regarding the situation with Lauren, and I won’t be working with her again.”

  “Why?”

  He blinked, a muscle spasm adding to the grind of his jaw. “Because . . . she’s gone, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Gone?” she said, the question as flat as the press of her lips.

  “Yes, gone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she just is.”

  She leaned forward, eyes laying him bare. “Gone to lunch, gone across town, gone on vacation? I want facts, McGee, not single syllables.”

  He blasted out a sigh. “For pity’s sake, Katie, I fired her, okay?”

  She nodded her head. “I see. And why exactly would you do that?”

  He gulped, nearly choking on the words caught in his throat. “Because . . . you were right . . .” His eyelids flickered briefly as he pushed the rest of the sentence off the tip of his tongue. “And . . . I was . . . wrong.”

  Her smile could have blinded him, which given the superior gloat in her eyes, might be a good thing. “Ahhhhh . . . words I never thought I’d hear from the sanctified lips of Luke McGee.” She sat back with a fold of her arms, the smile suddenly nowhere in sight. Her voice was clipped. “And when exactly did this revelation occur?”

  It felt like fire ants were swarming his neck, which, based on the dangerous look on Katie’s face, would have been his first option. His voice was a croak. “Uh . . . recently.”

  She cocked her head, brows lifting to new heights. “Really. How recently, would you say? Last week, this week, yesterday, today?”

  His voice cracked. “Today.”

  She leaned forward, and he was pretty sure her eyes burned more than the ants. “Why?” she whispered, her voice akin to the calm before the storm.

  Avoiding her gaze, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He swallowed hard, tried again. Still nothing.

  Lunging forward with wildfire in her eyes, she jerked his chin up, index finger and thumb pinching his skin. “So help me, Luke McGee, you better spit it out right now, what you or that woman did to get her fired, or I will launch on you like a bad case of measles scratched raw.”

  Teeth clenched, muscle spasms in his face had a field day as he slowly removed her hand from his jaw, biting the words out. “She-made-a-pass-at-me, okay? Are you satisfied?”

  “Deliriously. What happened?” she snapped.

  He shot to his feet and started to pace, practically gouging his hair by the roots. “Nothing, I swear. She was on a stool, pulling a box from a shelf, and needed help.” He reinforced his lungs with more air, then dove right back in as he mauled the back of his neck. “The next thing I know, I’m helping her down and she . . . she . . .”

  Katie’s eyes narrowed, stretching two syllables into four. “She-e wha-t?”

  He stopped, suddenly too exhausted to worry anymore. Venting with a sigh, he plopped on the couch and put his head in his hands. “She slid down the front of me and put her hands to my waist. Said my body was like a rock.”

  Nothing. He waited, not sure he wanted to see her expression. A giggle floated in the air, and he glanced up, a pinch of hurt between his brows. “You think this is funny?”

  Lips pursed to ward off a smile, she shook her head in a series of tiny little shakes before her eyes widened with a grate of her lip. “Are you sure she wasn’t talking about your head?”

  His eyes narrowed into a squint. “This isn’t funny, Katie Rose, and I think you’re being awfully cavalier about another woman flirting with your husband.”

  She sobered quickly, a tender slant to her brows. “No, darling, I don’t think this is funny. I’m just venting with humor so I don’t scratch your eyes out.”

  “Oh,” he said, discreetly scooting a few inches away.

  “Did you kiss her?”

  He jerked up as if he’d been shot. “Kiss her?!” he rasped, nearly dislocating his jaw. “For the love of all that’s decent, Katie, are you crazy? No, I didn’t kiss her—I pushed her away!”

  Her lips twitched. “And she didn’t kiss you?”

  He shook his head hard. “Of course not! I wasn’t about to let it get that far.”

  “And you fired her?”

  “Absolutely—right on the spot.”

  She took his hand in hers, ducking to peek up at him. “Then what’s the problem, Luke? You admitted I was right and you were wrong, you apologized, you resisted temptation, and you sent the hussy packing. All in all, I’d say that’s a pretty good day.”

  He shot her a sideways glance, mouth sagging that she was taking it so well. His lips clamped as a sliver of hurt prickled. Too well. “Aren’t you even a little jealous?”

  She shimmied close to tuck an arm to his waist. “Not really, because unlike someone I know,” she said with teasing emphasis, “I trust you, which—” she poked his shoulder—“is not carte blanche for a married man or woman to spend time alone with the opposite sex unless they are the dean, a blood relative, or clergy.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “But that said, I’ve watched women ogle you since my first day at the BCAS, Luke McGee, and heaven knows I’ve done my fair share. So it’s no great surprise to me that women find you to be a dangerously handsome man. But I also know you love me, you love God, and you love your family with a vengeance, and in every single situation I’ve ever seen you in with a woman—me included—you’ve proven yourself to be one of the most honorable and decent men I’ve ever known.”

  A slow grin traveled his lips. He slipped an arm to her waist, pulling her close. “Really?”

  “Really.” She scrunched her nose. “Of course, your thick head and caveman mentality does cancel a lot of that out, you know.”

  His grin faded to soft as he caressed her cheek, weaving his hand into her hair. “I love you, Katie Rose,” he whispered, a prick of wetness in his eyes. “Thank you for loving me.”

  “You’re welcome, Luke,” she said softly, grazing his jaw with the tips of her fingers. The barest hint of a twinkle lit in her eye. “It’s not too hard, you know—most of the time.”

  He zeroed in on her lips, and his mouth went dry. “Dangerously handsome? Caveman mentality?” Prodding her back on the couch, he gave her a grin that had trouble written all over it. “You’re putting ideas into my head, Sass,” he whispered, taking his time to suckle her ear.

  “Wouldn’t take much, McGee,” she said, voice breathless. “You tend to have a one-track mind when it comes to your wife.”

  The grin ramped up to perilous. “Glad you noticed. I’d be in a sorry state if you hadn’t.” In one seamless move, he eased her legs up on the couch and stretched out beside her, playfully tugging her lip before delving into a kiss that made them both groan. “I wonder,” he whispered, her skin warm against his mouth, “should I utilize my caveman skills and carry you to bed over my shoulder or . . . ,” he nuzzled his way down the curve of her throat, “just make love to you right here?” His ragged breathing matched hers to a heartbeat as he placed wispy kisses along the delicate line of her collarbone. His hungry hand swept the length of her,
pausing to play with the button of her skirt. He looked up with a half-lidded smile. “Any suggestions?”

  “Just one,” she said, voice hoarse and breathing even worse. She lassoed his neck and pulled him down hard. “Shut up and kiss me.”

  Cabinets clattered in Marcy’s kitchen as Steven whistled up a storm, luring a smile to Faith’s lips while she and her mother and sisters sewed on the back porch. The earthy smell of cut grass and fresh mulch drifted on a warm summer breeze, along with the chatter of a mockingbird and children’s laughter. Sprawled on the lawn, Gabe and the cousins were harmonious for once, enjoying Popsicles from the Good Humor truck in a backyard manicured by Uncle Steven.

  Charity leaned toward Faith, muffling her whisper with a hand to her mouth as she nodded toward the kitchen. “Saints almighty, what’s going on? Did Steven take a job as the Good Humor man . . . or do my matchmaking instincts detect Annie’s involved?”

  Peeking at the kitchen window, Faith grinned when Steven broke into a chorus of “I’m in the Mood for Love.” “Close,” she said softly, ready to break into song herself. “Annie told me Thursday night our boy has finally asked her out for a movie tonight.”

  The shirt Marcy was mending dropped along with her mouth. “Oh, I knew it!” she whispered. “Of course Steven’s been as tight-lipped as a tomb, but I suspected something with all his humming and whistling this week, kissing me every time he comes in the room and even laughing when your father humiliated him at chess.” She shook her head, a grin curving her lips. “I tell you what, the boy’s been downright giddy, and now I know why.” Her sigh was pure contentment. “Oh, I do hope Annie can reel him in—I like her.”

  “Me too,” Emma said softly, gray eyes twinkling. “After all, it’s not often we see the buttoned-down Agent O’Connor off-kilter over a girl.”

  Lizzie all but glowed, absently caressing the increasingly cumbersome mound beneath her blue maternity shift. “And soooo romantic . . .”

  Charity assessed the skirt she was sewing, face in a squint. “Oh, she’ll reel him in, all right, if I have anything to say about it,” she said with grunt.

  Katie leaned in, her voice a whisper. “Not if he catches wind we’re pushing it. Growing up, all I had to do was let the little brat know I wanted him to do something, and he did the exact opposite. And frankly, I like Annie too much to risk that.”

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Charity said with an air of confidence. “Steven may be a brick wall when it comes to emotional involvement, but with all of us praying and my superior matchmaking skills, the man has no choice but to fall in love.” She held up a hem she’d just basted, eyeing it for accuracy. “Mark my words—the boy’s a goner.”

  “Who’s a goner?” Steven asked, ambling through the screen door with a glass of lemonade. He upended it, then wiped his wet forehead with the side of his arm while he perched on the wood railing. Drenched with sweat and riddled with grass stains, his sleeveless T-shirt revealed tan, muscled arms, and a smooth, solid chest.

  “Henry,” Charity said without missing a beat, “who else?”

  Steven chuckled, white teeth gleaming in a face dark from outside sports and lawn work. He ruffled fingers through damp hair that was such a deep chestnut, it almost looked black. “What’s the boy done now?” he asked, taking another drink.

  “Oh, you know, the usual—smoking Father’s pipe, worms in his sister’s bed, building an armory with rocks, mud balls, and persimmons for a game of Civil War.”

  “That’s not so bad.” Steven set his glass on the railing. “All boys like to play war.”

  Charity’s brow spiked. “In their father’s brand-new Ford Model A Roadster?”

  “Ouch.” Steven grinned, biceps taut as he folded his arms. “Poor Mitch. Bet that hurt.”

  “Not as much as it hurt Henry. Mitch went off like a rocket’s red glare. Haven’t seen the love of my life lose it like that since . . .” She paused to think, head cocked and hand to mouth. “Well, I guess since yesterday when he cut his face with the razor I used on the neighbor’s dog.” She scrunched her nose and shivered. “Beggar’s lice and skunk. Don’t ask—it’s not pretty.”

  Faith laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll tell you what, sis, I swear Henry is God’s comeuppance for all the trouble you gave me growing up, and now Mitch.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” Charity said with a thin gaze. “The good Lord said, ‘I will be merciful to their iniquities, and their sins will I remember no more.’ Trust me, I’m hanging my hat on that one.” She chewed the edge of her lip, eyes in a squint. “Although it is awfully suspicious I live with both Mitch and Henry.” She waved her hand. “Oh well, it’s not important. All that matters is Henry is punished for what he did to Kelsey Raber.”

  Steven tipped his glass for a piece of ice. “Uh-oh, what’d he do to Kelsey Raber?”

  Charity arched a brow. “The worms-in-the-bed stunt?” She nodded, mouth in a wry slant. “Kelsey Raber spent the night with Hope. Poor kid crawled into bed and screamed, giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘night crawlers.’ ”

  “No!” Emma put a hand to her mouth, a smile peeking through while her sisters chuckled, shaking their heads. Steven just laughed and popped more ice while Emma threaded a needle, brows in a crimp. “But I thought you said Henry had a crush on Kelsey.”

  “He does,” Charity said with a scowl. “And that’s his way of showing it. Completely ignores her except for stunts like that.” She glanced up at Steven, mouth kinked. “Maybe you can tell me, Steven—why do men ignore a woman they obviously like?”

  Mid-drink, a spray of lemonade misted the air as Steven choked.

  Faith jumped up to pat him on the back while he hacked, his cheeks as red as the kids’ cherry Popsicles. “You okay?” She bit back a smile. Goodness, Annie, what have you done to the boy?

  Steven nodded hard, palm in the air.

  “Personal experience?” Charity asked with a devilish smile.

  He shot up, waving Faith away. “No!” he said with a hoarse clear of his throat. He bolted for the door. “See ya. Just remembered something I need to do.”

  The screen door slammed, and Marcy quirked a brow. “See what I mean? A tomb, and one buried six feet under at that. Lips and pride sealed tight and scared to death somebody’s going to break in.”

  “Well, don’t you worry, Mother, I’ll get the scoop from Annie come Thursday.” Faith tugged a torn pair of trousers into her lap, lips squirming into a mischievous smile. “Because Steven’s lips may be sealed tighter than a tomb, but trust me—it’s his pride we’re gonna bury.”

  12

  Cards exploded in the air while Annie dove for a spoon a split second after Steven snatched the last from the pile. Teeth clenched as tight as her fist, she yanked with all her might, ignoring Steven’s grin as they played tug-of-war on Aunt Eleanor’s parlor floor. With Glory cheering him on, he gave Annie a slow wink before easily jerking the spoon from her grip, leaving her with bright red fingers and cheeks that were even worse.

  “Whoop-eee! Annie has S-P-O-O-N and we win!!” Glory bounced up and down on Steven’s lap, her giggles ricocheting off the walls when his fingers became “Tickle Monster.”

  He slid Annie a lazy grin over the little girl’s wild blonde curls. “Sorry, kid,” he teased, “but face it—you’re just not that fast.”

  She collected her cards with a smirk, reaching around Mr. Grump to retrieve a few strays. The basset lay oblivious, surrounded by a sea of board games. “Not that fast . . . mmm. I suppose that might be considered a good thing if dating you, wouldn’t you say, Agent O’Connor?”

  His grin broadened considerably. “Oh yeah,” he said, warming her with a smoky look.

  She lowered her head, hoping to hide the blush she felt by focusing on collecting more cards, well aware Steven O’Connor had a disastrous effect on her. Particularly now after dating two months. One look, one kiss was all it took to send her pulse into overdrive, and Annie was grateful he appeared to be ta
king it slow. He’d been the perfect gentleman so far, no lingering in the car and nothing more than a safe kiss at the door.

  Safe? Annie gulped, watching him horse around with Glory, biceps bulging while pumping her up and down in the air. Who was she kidding? Every moment spent with him just meant she fell a little more in love, and although the kisses at the door started out gentle and tame, Annie sensed a change that felt anything but “safe.” The last time he’d said good night, he’d butted her to the portico wall with an urgency in his kiss that both excited and alarmed her. A warm shiver skittered as he wrestled with Glory, and she couldn’t help but worry that sometime soon, she might be doing some wrestling of her own.

  “Let’s play dominoes,” Glory shouted, plopping down on Steven’s back.

  “Sorry, dear.” Aunt Eleanor looked up, needlepoint in hand. “It’s almost eight, and after traipsing through the zoo with Steven and your sister all day, you’ll need a bath before bed.”

  “But I’m not tired,” Glory moaned over Steven’s shoulder, “and Steven’s still here.”

  “But leaving soon, Glory Girl,” he said emphatically, flipping her little body over his head before laying her down flat.

  She squealed and scampered back up, hanging onto his legs after he jumped to his feet. “But why do you have to leave so soon?” she asked, blue eyes peering up.

  He hoisted her up in his arms to deposit a kiss on her nose, lips curving into a soft smile. “Gotta go to work, little girl. Special assignment.”

  “But when are you coming back?”

  He gave Annie a lidded smile that doubled her pulse. “That’s up to your sister.”

  “Soon,” Annie promised. She tugged Glory from his arms.

  “Not soon enough,” he whispered, his wayward fingers straying down her arms.

  “Come on, squirt,” Annie said, “I’ll let you use my honeysuckle bubble bath.”

  “And wear one of your silky nightgowns too?” she asked, the glow of hope in her eyes.