But it was the sound of her daughter’s name that had May flinching, a tiny speck of fear appearing in her expression.
“Right.”
“Evening folks, we’re going to need you to clear out.”
There were four fire fighters standing in their smoky, acrid kitchen and even though the fire was out, Rook knew that they had procedure to follow.
He nodded and he and May ran upstairs. May forewent the clothes change in favor of seeing her daughter.
Rook came to stand by Ricky’s locked closet doors. “Ricks?”
“Daddy?”
“Yup. You can open up now, buddy.”
He heard her scrabbling with the locks, as if it was taking her a few tries. He imagined that her hands were probably shaking. But when the doors opened up, she looked steady as a rock. Like mother like daughter.
He only got a half-second glimpse of her, though, because in the blink of an eye he found himself with his arms full of his daughter. She had her legs around his waist and her cheek set on his shoulder the way she used to when she was just a kid.
“Mom,” Ricky said, reaching out for May.
May stood behind Rook and reached her arms around both him and Ricky, nestling her face into her daughter’s.
For the first time since his watch had notified him of the alarm, Rook felt his blood pressure lower. They were here and safe. His girls. His loves. His family.
“Hello!” an authoritative voice called up the stairs. “NYPD!”
“Coming!” Rook called. “You guys pull some clothes on because you’re probably going to have to talk to the cops for a while.”
He set Ricky down and she pulled some socks on but otherwise, she was already wearing sweats and a hoodie.
Then, as if they couldn’t bear to be separated, the three of them moved as a unit to May’s room. She kicked off her boots and tugged off her T shirt.
It was then that Rook finally recognized the oversized shirt. It had been his. It was just an old Yankees shirt that he’d bought at a game in high school. He’d actually been wondering where it was for a long time. And here it was apparently, keeping May warm at night.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Either way, she yanked it off, tossed it in the hamper, revealing a sports bra underneath, and pulled on a plain T-shirt and jeans. She slipped her feet into classier flats than her unlaced boots and pulled her hair down, brushing her fingers through it. Less than twenty seconds and she looked like a freaking model.
Rook sighed and led them downstairs.
His relief didn’t last however. He sat on the couch with May and Ricky. Ricky had given her statement first and was now asleep with her head on her mom’s lap and her feet on her dad’s.
Her statement had been very straightforward. She’d woken up when the alarm had started blaring. May had been by her side half a second later, clutching a bat and shoving Ricky into the closet. Then she’d called Rook. The end.
May’s statement, however, had Rook clenching his jaw so hard he could have ground glass back into sand.
“Well, my phone started going off. And it was set to silent so that surprised me.”
“When the silent alarm on the house goes off, it alerts the system, including your phone, no matter what,” Rook explained.
The detective who’d been called to the scene sat in the armchair kitty-corner to them and nodded, writing all this down.
“Anyways. My phone went off and I read the notification and jumped out of bed to get to Ricky. That’s when the main alarm went off.”
“Most likely that’s when the window got broken,” Rook cut in again.
“No.” May shook her head. “If you’d let me explain…” She raised a saucy eyebrow at Rook and he pursed his lips and nodded. It was driving him up the wall that he hadn’t been here for this. He felt like such a failure. He ran a security company, for god sakes, and still, this horrible shit had happened to his family!
“He just slid the kitchen window open to get in. The one over the sink.”
“It wasn’t locked?!” Rook’s voice was low, but furious, every muscle in his body stiffened.
“Would you let me finish?!” May shot back, in the exact same tone.
“Are y’all two divorced?” the detective asked in her slow Texas drawl, a slightly amused expression on her stern face.
“Yes,” May answered briskly. “And yes, the window was unlocked. I keep a window box of flowers out there. Which are all smashed to shit now, anyways. But I’d opened it earlier to water the flowers and I guess I forgot to lock it back up.”
Rook slammed his eyes closed and jammed his knuckles into his tired eyes. God. She was going to be the death of him. He was going to keel over from high blood pressure and it would be all May Jones’s fault.
“Anyways, I ran down here with the bat and I heard something in the kitchen, a shuffling sound. But I must have been really quiet because I scared the hell out of him when he turned around. He was just lighting the rag at the end of the bottle and I rushed at him, hoping I could get him with the bat before he lit the damn thing.”
“Jesus.” Rook pressed the palm of his hand to his heart, over the scarring from the IED. He ached. He was truly aching just picturing May doing this crazy shit.
She shot him a dirty look. “You’d rather I’d locked myself in a closet while the house burned down?”
“I’d rather you didn’t rush an intruder while you were half naked and half asleep.”
“Folks,” the detective interrupted. “I really need this statement.”
May tore her eyes from Rook and cleared her throat. “Right. Well, I rushed him and smacked him over the head with the bat. He dropped the bottle, but it didn’t break, as you saw. And he dropped the lighter too. He ran for the window and I ran after him and grabbed his legs.”
Rook’s hands curled into fists.
“But he fought me to get away, and that’s when he broke the window in. He smashed it and the glass went everywhere. He kicked me and—”
“He kicked you? Where?” Rook was sitting up and at full attention.
May pulled the collar of her V-neck away on one side. “Here.” She pointed to her shoulder and collarbone where there was a light bruise that was just starting to darken.
“We’ll have the EMS check you out right after your statement.”
“There’s no need it wasn’t—”
“They’ll check you out, May.”
She frowned at Rook and turned back to the detective. “Anyways, he got away.” She scowled like that really pissed her off. “And then, when I turned around, I realized that the lighter had fallen onto the rag and the damn thing had caught fire and that’s where my husband found me.” She coughed. “Ex-husband.”
“Did you get a look at the guy? Could you describe him?”
She hesitated. “It was dark. And everything happened so fast. But he was big. Rook’s size at least. But he had a pot belly.”
“What about his face?” the detective asked. “Anything distinctive at all that you might remember?”
“No. He wore a hooded sweatshirt. I didn’t see his eyes. He… smelled bad. Like he hadn’t showered in a while.”
“Anything else with his clothing?” the detective prompted.
“Mmm. Boots. Timberlands, maybe. And pants with tons of pockets down the sides. He moved kind of funny.”
“Funny how?”
May bit her bottom lip. “I can’t explain it. There was just something strange about the way he moved. It wasn’t fluid or natural. He looked awkward.”
The detective made the notes and moved on to a whole new set of questions. It was around three am when all of the emergency personnel finally left. May’s bruise wasn’t serious and she didn’t require medical attention. But still, Rook desperately wanted to shove both of them in his car and head straight to the hospital.
May flopped back onto the couch, careful not to disturb Ricky. “God, what a mess.”
> “Please come home with me.”
She peeked out between the fingers of the hand she’d been dragging down her face. “Come again?”
“May, someone just attempted to burn down your house. The security system needs to be reset and revamped. It’s the middle of the night. I’m begging you. Pack a bag for you and Ricky and come sleep at my house.”
“There’s not enough room at your house.”
“You and Ricky can take my bed. I can sleep on her twin. It’ll be fine.”
She was hesitating, for all sorts of divorce-related reasons, he was sure.
“Please,” he repeated. “Make this easier on all of us.”
She rose without a word and came down ten minutes later with two overnight bags over her shoulders.
He carried Ricky out to the car even though she was a teenager and he could have just woken her up. But, come on. After a freaky-ass scare like that he needed to baby his kid for a little while.
Neither of them said a word on the ten-block drive to his condo. His mind was circling like vultures.
Who had it been?
Who would do this?
Why May’s house?
The questions asked themselves over and over until Rook felt as if he’d go insane. He knew that there was nothing more he could do tonight besides get a good night’s sleep.
So, he parked the car in the secure underground garage and carried Ricky to the elevator. He and May didn’t speak even as he disengaged the security system to get into his condo and carried Ricky down the hall to his bedroom.
He set Ricky down in the middle of the bed and pulled the covers over her. For a moment, emotion threatened to swamp him so he just turned his back and sat on the edge of the bed, his forehead resting on his palm.
He heard May’s footsteps. He turned and watched as she, jeans and all, pulled up the covers and slid into the bed next to Ricky. He knew he needed to give them space, so he rose up, but he couldn’t make himself leave.
“Just lie down already, Javi,” May said in a low, exhausted voice.
Surprised, he turned and tried to make out her expression in the dark.
“There’s room for the whole family in this ridiculously large bed.”
Looking down, he saw that she was right. With Ricky in the middle and May on one end, there was definitely room for Rook to sleep on his side.
He was grateful that he didn’t have to leave either of them alone tonight. He simply laid down and rolled onto his side, letting a prayer of thanks drag him into sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
It had been nearly six years since May had woken up in a bed with Rook, but apparently it was like riding a bike. Her body didn’t miss a trick.
She’d been dimly aware an hour or so ago when Ricky had slid over her to get out of bed, but her sleepy brain hadn’t supplied the other half of that reality—she was sleeping alone with Rook.
That fact was now made bruisingly clear by the searing heat along May’s entire back half. As always happened when they slept in the same bed, Rook had become plastered along her back, an arm over her hip, his knees tucked into hers. Their height difference was such that when they spooned, his chin came over the top of her head.
It was the safest and most secure she ever felt in her life.
Unfortunately, a divorce hadn’t changed that.
She knew that she needed to pull away. That the dumbest thing she could do right now was bask in his closeness. But the events of the night before washed over her all at once and for the next few minutes, at least, she needed to absorb his solid comfort.
She’d gone into full attack mode, when she’d realized there was an intruder in her home, and she’d damn near snapped a tether when she’d realized he meant to light a fire. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t been scared out of her mind. That didn’t mean that spiders of fear and adrenaline hadn’t been crawling over her skin for hours. That didn’t mean that she hadn’t desperately wished that Rook had been there with her. And that definitely didn’t mean that she hadn’t almost wept with relief when he’d joined her in the kitchen.
He’d startled her with that kiss, but for once they’d been on the same page. That kiss had no subtext, no agenda. That was a thank-god-you’re-all-right kiss and she couldn’t have agreed more. The hug, however, had threatened to crumble her to dust.
She hated how much she’d wanted to dissolve into him. Fall to pieces, let him handle everything.
Never again. She’d never depend on anyone the amount she used to depend on Rook. She was strong and independent and she’d bullied herself into being all right.
May could hear the TV on in the other end of the condo. She was just starting to smell breakfast cooking and knew that Ricky was up and at ‘em. But for just a few minutes, May kept her eyes closed and let Rook hold her and she let herself admit that she was not okay. That what had happened last night had been random and terrifying and awful.
Two tears escaped her eyes and left traitorous marks on the pillow. The arm around her tightened. The warmth increased with his firm hold.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
May immediately stiffened and her eyes popped open. Snuggling with Rook while he was sleeping and wouldn’t remember? Fine. Snuggling with him while they were both awake and vulnerable? Big no-no.
Besides, with her eyes open now, she was absorbing details of Rook’s bedroom and each one made her stomach tighten. Rook had blue sheets on his bed. Sheets she’d never seen before. He had nice furniture and walls painted a classy gray. His closet door was propped open and she could see that it was scrupulously neat in there. There was a painting on the wall that she couldn’t quite make out unless she turned herself to see it.
This was Rook’s bedroom.
Rook’s bedroom was not her bedroom.
And anyone who Rook had slept with since they’d been divorced was most likely much more familiar with this bedroom than she was.
The thought made May sick with jealousy.
The idea of Rook having another woman in his life was one that she’d never allowed herself to touch with a ten-foot pole. May had never been good at sharing. And no matter what the divorce papers said, rescinding Rook to someone else was always going to be viciously difficult for her. Luckily, she’d never really had to face it before.
But seeing his bedroom was a cold slap to the face. This was his personal space that had absolutely nothing to do with her. Where he most likely slept with women who were nothing like her. He’d probably developed a penchant for deferential blondes who let him boss them around.
The thought disgusted her and she tugged away from Rook, sitting up and tossing the covers off.
“You all right?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice.
She couldn’t answer that question without being rude so she strode into his bathroom. A few minutes later, she came out with her face wet, her hair in a braid and her teeth finger-brushed.
She stared at the empty, made bed. One of her hands went to her hips. She’d fully expected him to be in that bed. She’d fully expected him to tug her into a hug, try to soothe her, force her into one of his famous can’t you see we’re meant to be together speeches, the way he’d done a thousand times toward the end of their marriage.
But nope. He was gone and the bed was made as if no one had been sleeping there ten minutes ago.
May strode out into Rook’s semi-familiar apartment and found the other two-thirds of her family splayed out on Rook’s ridiculously large sectional couch. What was the deal with all the humongous furniture around here? She felt like Jack after he’d climbed the beanstalk.
Rook and Ricky were laughing together at a Will Ferrell movie that was playing and eating pancakes.
“Morning, Mom.”
“Coffee will be up in a minute,” Rook said, glancing her way.
May kissed the top of Ricky’s head and grimaced when she faintly scented the acrid smoke from last night. She went into Rook’s
kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee even though the cycle wasn’t finished yet and it spilled coffee.
Leaning back with the cup, she eyed Rook’s kitchen with a ruthless eye.
He stepped into the kitchen a moment later, his phone to his ear and frowned at the expression on her face.
“I’m not sure,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the line. “You’d have to ask her. No. No, I get it. I’ll make it work. No matter what. Yes. Thanks for all that last night. You’ll see how grateful I am in your next paycheck. Don’t argue. All right. Bye.”
Rook hung up the phone and looked pointedly at the still-running coffee maker and then at the steaming cup in May’s hands. He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged.
Crossing his arms over his chest he leaned against the counter on the other end of the kitchen. She had the sudden feeling that they were two warriors preparing to spar.
“Apparently the NYPD has cordoned off your kitchen as a crime scene.”
“Oh, joy.”
He frowned at her flippant tone. “They’re going to need you to come in today to talk more about who you think might have done it.”
“Again? Didn’t we go through all that for hours last night?”
“May, a man tried to burn down the house with you and Ricky inside, would it kill you to take this seriously?”
Internally, she wilted. Externally, she bristled. “I am taking this seriously. I just… It’s all a big shock and I need to get my footing, okay? It doesn’t help having a bunch of men combing through my life and telling me what to do.”
Rook’s face softened. “Detective Schwab is a woman.”
“Detective Schwab is a cold fish and you know it. She was practically giving me the up and down for not being able to apprehend the intruder.”
Rook laughed outright. “She was not! That’s all in your head.”
“You have never been fluent in the subtle language with which women communicate with one another. Trust me. She was judging me. Meanwhile, she was practically feeling you up with her eyes. Didn’t you catch the way she kept confirming we were divorced?”
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