by Marci Bolden
Hearing Jessica whisper that she loved Mal was sweet on the surface but made his stomach turn in on itself. Mallory was great. She was sweet and considerate. But at the end of the day, what did they really know about her? He had no idea what she wanted for her future, other than to draw. What kind of financial stability could there possibly be for comic book artists? Or real estate agents? Selling houses was her day job. That didn’t seem very stable either. The fact that Annie had made a career of the industry didn’t comfort his concern.
What would happen if she finally accepted that living in California didn’t mean she’d abandoned her mother? She could change her mind about being in Stonehill. She could want to move back to the West Coast. Phil planned to never leave. He finally had the stable life and family connections he’d been wanting all his life. He wasn’t going to leave that behind. And he definitely wasn’t going to uproot his daughter again.
Having Mallory in his life was fun. She brought out the lighter side of him and Jessica, but she also brought so many unknown variables. They weren’t in a relationship. He had no right to try to pin her down on answers to these questions, but it wasn’t fair of her to insert herself into Jessica’s heart if she didn’t plan to stay there for the long run.
This was exactly why he’d avoided dating.
Damn it.
He never should have let his parents plant seeds in his head about needing a woman in his life to fill a void they felt Jessica had. He never should have let Mallory in this fast.
A darkness started low in his gut, working its way up his chest and blocking out the light that she’d brought into his life the last few weeks. He had to take a step back, slow this train down before it jumped the tracks. He had to think twenty steps ahead so he knew what to anticipate to make things the best that he could for Jess.
He’d lost sight of that objective where Mallory was concerned. Being with her allowed him to stop looking so far into the future and focus on the now, but focusing on today without concern for tomorrow was a recipe for disaster. He’d learned that not just from bouncing around place to place growing up but by marrying a woman who could so easily walk away from her life. He had to be the one to build and maintain the foundations for himself and his child. He couldn’t expect anyone else to do that, and part of that process was keeping an eye on the future to make sure the path was as smooth as possible.
Mallory had a way of distracting him, and distractions left room for missteps that he couldn’t afford, not where Jessica’s happiness was concerned.
That was so much easier said than done, he realized as he entered the living room to find Mallory explaining the importance of cleaning up after himself to Lucky. Something about a clean home equating a clean mind. He found that amusing considering how many trinkets she had scattered about her living room and office. But Lucky was enthralled, wagging his tail as he listened while she folded the pile of blankets Phil had dropped on the sofa.
Phil didn’t blame the dog for looking like a spell had been cast over him. Mallory’s voice was smooth and sweet like honey and her movements so fluid she made folding a blanket look sexy as hell. Spikes of short blond hair had escaped from her ponytail, making her hair look unkempt, and Phil thought he’d never seen someone dressed as tempting as Mallory O’Connell while swimming in the sweatshirt she’d added to her many layers. Well, other than Mallory O’Connell when she was standing in her bedroom in nothing but her underwear and a pair of heels.
As she dropped the last neatly folded blanket on the pile, she put her hands on her hips and eyed the dog. “Don’t even think about climbing up there, do you hear me? I know what you’re thinking. Your place is on the floor.”
Lucky whimpered, wagged his tail, and panted until she leaned down and scratched his ears.
“That’s one lucky dog,” Phil said, finally making his presence known.
“Hence the name,” she retorted, as had become the running joke the last few days.
She smiled at him, and he fell under the same spell as Lucky. Phil didn’t even realize he was closing in on her until he was so close he had to tilt his face down to look into her eyes. Bringing his hands to her cheeks, he brushed his thumbs over her soft skin as her breath quickened. Her lips parted, and he had to smile because she reminded him of a woodland fairy for some reason. Maybe she was, because there was definitely something magical and hypnotic about her, something so carefree and alive that didn’t seem natural. Something that made all his fears and reservations and plans fade away.
Staring into her starry eyes made him feel lost in a strange and comforting way, as if he’d fallen into a dream. He could let go of his stress when she was near. That was something Phil had never been able to do. In his mind, he knew he should be drawing the lines right now, laying down the rules, and setting the expectations. He needed to explain the boundaries and why they were necessary, but he couldn’t. Boundaries didn’t make sense when he was looking at this woman.
Instead of pushing her back a step, he pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around her, and secured her against him. Like a base jumper standing on the edge of a cliff looking down into a beautiful abyss, Phil held his breath to work up the courage to take the leap.
Just jump. Just do it. For once, just be brave.
Tilting her head back, he kissed her the way he hadn’t been able to since leaving her house after ravaging her body. His kiss was a slow enticement to make her forget everything else, the way she made him forget his need to protect himself and his daughter from her powers.
He brushed his tongue along her lip. She opened her mouth in response, and he delved in. A fire ignited between them, consuming him, as it had the last time they were alone together. His tightly woven control burned to ashes as her body melted into his. Tugging at the shirt she was buried inside, he slid his hand under the hem, only to find another shirt. He managed to get underneath that and found another layer.
“How many shirts are you wearing?” he panted after tearing his mouth from hers.
She giggled. “Four.”
He pulled at one more round of material before finally finding the warmth and softness of her skin. He sighed as he pressed his fingers into her lower back. “That’s better,” he whispered, resting his forehead to hers.
She yanked at his shirt, too, only he hissed when she rested her palm against his skin. She turned her fingers in, making sure every inch of ice-cold flesh touched him.
“Your hands are freezing,” he gently chastised.
“Warm them up.” The deep and sultry tone she’d used was something he’d only ever heard once before from her—in her bed. Her voice was always smooth, always soothing. This was something else. This was the most seductive music he’d ever heard. A true siren song. Those three little words struck a chord he couldn’t remember anyone ever strumming before. The vibrations rolled through him, settling low in his stomach and catching the ember that had been burning.
Cupping the back of her head, he held her, forgetting about the icicles she had pressed against his spine, as he gave her another scorching kiss. He could kiss her forever. Her lips felt soft against his. Instead of strawberries, this time her mouth was sweet like the s’mores they’d made with a hint of salt from the popcorn he’d popped over the fire. Just like everything about her, the taste she left on his tongue had so many layers he couldn’t possibly make sense of them all; he simply knew they worked in conjunction to make something so perfect he had a hard time trusting it.
Lucky whimpered and pawed at Phil’s leg.
He pulled back and they both looked down, startled to find they had an audience. The dog whimpered again. He used that particular noise to tell his humans that he needed to go outside.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?” Phil muttered. Focusing on Mallory, he sighed. “Don’t move.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Opening the back door, he ushered the pup outside and stood peering out at the dark. Actually, he was watching Mallory’s reflecti
on in the glass, smiling as she brushed her hands over her hair and dragged her palms over her thighs. She seemed nervous. But then another reflection caught his attention. Jessica.
“Mallory,” she said. “I need water.”
Phil turned to tell her that she didn’t. She had a cup of water beside her bed, but Mallory held her hand out and Jessica rushed to meet her. Hand in hand they walked toward the kitchen. That should have warmed his heart even more than Mallory’s kiss had, but the image was more like ice water dousing the fire she’d ignited in him. Reality hit him again.
Someone was going to get hurt. And the odds were, that someone was going to be Jessica.
They returned just as Lucky came to the door. Phil let the dog in as Mallory coaxed her down the hall. A darkness shot through his heart. Suddenly he didn’t want Mallory putting Jessica to bed. He didn’t want Jessica to start to think that was Mallory’s place. Mallory’s role was a friend, their buddy. She was silly and fun and had no place tucking Jessica in.
Rushing down the hallway, he inserted himself into the back-to-bed routine as casually as he could. “Okay, Punk,” he said. “Mallory doesn’t want to put you to bed every time you get up.”
Mallory turned, as if to protest, but seemed to pick up on his reservations. A bit of the light seemed to dim in her eyes as she put her hand to Jessica’s head. “See you tomorrow, kid,” she stated, leaving him to tuck Jessica in, as was his responsibility.
“Don’t get up again,” he warned Jess, though they both knew she wouldn’t heed his warning. She never did.
“Night, Daddy,” she whispered.
He turned off her light and closed the door, trying to squash whatever monster had risen from the darkness. He couldn’t. He was unsettled by the expression of love between Jessica and Mallory. He wasn’t ready for them to be that connected.
Rejoining Mallory in the living room, he cleared his throat. “She, uh, she’s probably never going to go to sleep until she hears you leave.”
Mallory’s smile fell, as if she’d been slapped, but she quickly forced it back to her face. “Right. Yeah. I know how she is.”
If he’d hurt her feelings, which he suspected he had, she covered well. She stepped to him, right against him, and tipped her head back. He wanted to dig his hands into her hair and hold her there as he devoured her. Instead, he offered her a quick, lackluster kiss.
“Night, Mal,” he whispered, ignoring the confusion in her eyes.
Chapter Ten
Mallory hated when her mind wandered all on its own, leaving reality behind, but that very thing kept happening as she and Jessica sat with sketchbooks open and pencils scattered across Phil’s kitchen table.
The night before had been amazing. Right up until Lucky needed to take a potty break and Jessica needed water. Phil always had a tendency to run warm to cool, but last night he went from Krakatoa to Antarctica in the span of a few minutes. His kiss had burned her alive, but by the time he returned from tucking Jessica back into bed, he had ice in his veins.
She had given up the idea of a night of romance, but for him to basically turn her out after kissing her like she was the only woman he’d ever wanted was a kick to the gut. And to her ego. He’d ushered her out with barely more than a friendly smile and shut the door behind her the moment she stepped onto his porch.
She was nervous to see him today. Before their uncomfortable goodbye last night, Phil had asked if Mallory could leave work early and pick Jessica up from school while he went with his parents to meet with their adoption attorney.
Mallory had stood exactly where Phil had told her to. She smiled big when Jessica spotted her and came running. All her worries about Phil and his awkward behavior the night before disappeared as Jessica wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her tight.
They’d gone through a drive-through to get a big box of chicken nuggets to share, all while Jessica chattered about her day and how cool Mallory’s car was and could she please pick the music. Then, between handfuls of fries, she asked if Mallory had remembered her art supplies, because she’d promised to teach Jessica how to draw comics.
Mallory had been walking on air when they got to Phil’s house. Lucky welcomed them with a wagging tail, clearly torn between greeting them and begging to go outside. He ran around the backyard, marking everything he could, while Jess and Mal ate their snacks. Once they were done, Jessica called him in while Mallory cleared the table and set out sketchbooks and pencils, ready to turn little Jess into her protégé.
However, the longer she’d sat in that space, looking at the very spot where Phil had turned on and off so damn quickly, the more a sense of dread settled in her tummy, squeezing the nuggets, fries, and ketchup into an uneasy mass.
Snapping back to reality when movement caught her eye, Mallory smiled as Jessica held up a bright-red pencil and closed one eye as she stared at her drawing, as if assessing the alignment. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know, but Grandma does this when she’s painting sometimes, so it must be important.”
Chuckling, Mallory added the last bit of color to her drawing and turned her sketchbook around to show Jessica. “What do you think?”
Jessica’s eyes widened as she drew a deep breath. “Is that me?”
Mallory looked at her drawing—a woman dressed all in pink with long brown hair and broad facial features. “Well. She’s inspired by you.”
“I’ve never seen a superhero with Down syndrome before.”
“Then it’s about time, don’t you think?”
Jessica beamed proudly. “What’s her name?”
Dropping her sketchbook back on the table, Mallory shrugged. “You’re so great at coming up with names. What do you think we should call her?”
She thought only for a moment. “Let’s call her Super Punk.”
Smiling at the nickname Phil used for his daughter, Mallory agreed. “Perfect.” She wrote the name in a graffiti-style text at the bottom. “How’s that?”
“I like it.”
Tearing the page free, Mallory held it out. “For you.”
Jessica lifted the page, thoughtfully examining the drawing. “What are her powers?”
Mallory should have known to have an entire backstory sorted out before showing the image. Jessica was inquisitive like that. She always wanted to know the why and the how so she could soak up as much information as possible. She reminded Mallory of how she used to be as a kid. Glancing at Lucky, Mallory said, “Rescuing dogs. She goes around the city at the speed of light, rescuing stray dogs and finding them forever homes.”
Lowering the picture, Jessica met her gaze. “All animals. She’d rescue all animals.”
That crazy sense of warmth spread through Mallory’s chest. Of course Jessica would want to save all the animals. Her heart was too big to just save one kind. “Yes, she would.”
“Can she have a sidekick that looks like Lucky?”
“Naturally.” Taking the paper back from Jessica, Mallory started erasing a section of background color as she examined the black mixed breed sleeping at their feet. She selected a black pencil and swiftly added the pup. When she gave the picture back to Jess, Super Punk had a furry sidekick with a fancy chest shield that boasted the letter L on it.
Jessica laughed as she slid to the floor and showed it to the dog. “Look at us, Lucky. We’re comic book heroes.” After Lucky sniffed the drawing and licked Jessica’s cheek, she jumped up and hugged Mallory. “I love it.”
“I’m glad.”
Leaning back, she looked into Mallory’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
Her smile widened as she looked over Mal’s shoulder. “Daddy, look! Look what Mal drew for me.”
Phil examined the picture of Super Punk and Lucky. He faked a smile for Jessica’s sake, but Mallory could see through him. He didn’t seem pleased. In fact, he seemed a little offended. She wondered what she’d done wrong in the picture. Maybe making a disabled s
uperhero wasn’t something he approved of; maybe he was worried Jessica might get some kind of idea about having powers. Or something equally as odd. Because nothing else seemed to make sense as she tried to understand his hesitancy to meet her eyes.
However, when she considered where he’d been—with his parents and their attorney, going over what needed to be done for Mira’s adoption—she suddenly feared something hadn’t gone as planned. She’d been hoping for Kara and Harry’s sake that the adoption would go smoothly, but the anxiety in Phil’s eyes implied otherwise. Maybe Lynn had changed her mind about giving up her parental rights. That would be terrible, considering her lack of interest in Mira’s health and safety.
If she decided to keep Mira, that would put so much strain on Harry and Kara and in turn on Phil. He liked to act as if his mom’s determination to help Mira was just some whim that she was having, but Mallory knew he worried for Mira, too. And not just because the baby was a handful for his parents. He might have chosen a different route of protecting the baby, but he was just as concerned for her as his parents.
He tried to hide that part of him that he worried was too much like his mother, but her bleeding-heart ways were too ingrained in him. Mallory wished he could see they were far more endearing than he realized. The stress in his eyes made her heart ache. Something had gone wrong with the adoption proceedings. She was certain of that.
“That’s great, Mal. Nice job.” Phil handed the page back to Jess. “You should go put it on your wall with your other drawings.”
“Can I?” she asked Mallory.
“Of course.” She pushed herself up as Jessica ran out. Putting her hand on Phil’s arm, she noticed how his muscle tensed under her light touch. “What happened?”
He creased his brow. “Nothing. Why?”
“You looked upset when you came in.”
An obviously forced smile curved his lips. She had become familiar with his genuine smiles and the way they made light shine from his eyes. There was no light in his eyes at the moment, only sadness. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”