by Linda Kage
Willow enjoyed the little by-play. She always found it amusing when Dylan went into protective mode. And the poor man was about to blow with the crowd crushing in around them. He put his arm around Camille to muffle the impact of anyone else colliding into her. Willow shook her head.
"You okay?" Dylan asked his wife.
Camille nodded and rubbed a hand over her stomach. "I'm fine. But now I have to go to the bathroom." Her gaze strayed Willow's way.
"Oh, hell no," Willow said. She'd never been the type to group potty. Tonight, the line to the lady's room especially turned her off. "I'm staying here and waiting with Dylan," she stated, standing firm, even when Dylan gave her a scowl for deserting his wife in her time of need. But she refused to budge. The crammed, perfume-infested ladies' room was the last place she wanted to be.
Dylan shifted closer to her as Camille moved to the back of the line. "Wouldn't have killed you to go with her."
"If you want her to have some company, you go with her."
He mumbled something under his breath, but Willow didn't catch the words. She eyed a family trying to work their way through the congestion. The father bent down to pick up his young daughter. Keeping a hand on the low part of his wife's back, he held the girl close with his other arm.
"Daddy, I want to be an actress when I grow up," the girl said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
Willow smiled softly. "Besides," she told Dylan. "I think it was enough that I came tonight. She already owes me big time."
Dylan shoved his hand into his pockets but didn't reply. He had to be suffering just as badly as she was, but he would swallow his tongue before he made one negative comment about the play. His beloved had wanted to come, so by God, he'd act excited for her benefit.
"God, did that suck or what?" Willow asked, bumping his elbow with her own. She thought maybe he'd give his honest opinion since Camy was out of earshot. But, loyal to a fault, Dylan refused to comment. Rolling her eyes, Willow turned away only to focus on another couple moving steadily toward the exit. Her heart bumped hard against her ribcage.
"Well, well," she said, proud she sounded so casual. "If it isn't Deputy Malloy."
Beside her, Dylan tensed. Malloy glanced over at his name, and a pair of scorching blue eyes zeroed in on her. The woman at his side also paused and looked up at the call, erasing all doubt she might not be with him. She eyed Willow openly, very upfront about her curiosity, no doubt wondering how Willow fit into her escort's life.
Willow took in his date with one glance. Tall, slim, dark hair and eyes. Deciding she was better looking than his arm candy, Willow turned back to Malloy. She was tempted to say something nasty like I guess it's true that you men always trade down, hmm. But the thought of him with someone else and so soon hurt too much for her to say anything. She settled for a cool scowl.
Malloy didn't even notice, too busy checking out the man next to her. When he realized it was Dylan, he turned back to give her a look-who'sfooling-around-with-whom look.
The woman with him poked him in the side, just under the ribcage to gain his attention. It was a well-delivered jab. She seemed comfortable with it as if she'd done it many times before and was quite aware it was a sensitive spot for him. She knew how to touch him, which made Willow's skin tingle with a panicky kind of jealous that left her lungs empty of air.
Malloy shot his date a surprised look.
"Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Raith?" she asked, only to promptly turn back to Willow and smile expectantly.
Malloy regretfully muttered, "This is Willow DeVane."
His date glanced toward Dylan but Malloy didn't bother to acknowledge him. The woman blinked at Malloy, obviously startled by his rudeness. But then she forced another smile at Willow and stuck out her hand. "Hello. I'm Kathie Becker."
Willow shook hands with her good-naturedly. "A pleasure to meet you," she lied. "This is my cousin, Dylan Taggart," she added since Malloy obviously wasn't going to.
Dylan nodded politely. "Ma'am," he said, but his face lifted suddenly as he focused on the bathroom. His eyes widened and he brusquely said, "Excuse me." Quickly brushing past Willow, Malloy and Kathie, he hurried away.
Frowning, Willow turned to see Camille stumble toward him with tears streaming down her cheeks and looking ten months pregnant.
Dylan caught her face in his hands and drew her protectively close. "What happened?" he demanded urgently, as if he were ready to take on any foe who had insulted his woman.
"I saw myself in the bathroom mirror," Camille wailed. "Oh, God, Dylan. I look like a cow. I'm so fat. I can't take this anymore."
Dylan pulled her into a hug and kissed her hair. "Camille, baby, you are not fat. Sweetheart, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
But Camille buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. "I'm obese!"
Willow sighed. "Here we go again." She opened her purse to pull out a small tissue holder and tugged one free. After handing it to Dylan, she watched a bit enviously as he reverently dabbed his wife's cheeks dry.
"And this is Camille, Dylan's wife," Willow said to Kathie, smiling with amusement at Raith's expression as he watched Camille with horrorstruck fascination.
"Hello, Camille," Kathie said, soothingly and smiled at Willow's cousin. "How far along are you?"
"Eight months," Dylan answered for his wife.
Kathie's eyes shot open wide. "My goodness," she murmured. "I
would've guessed only four or five."
Camille finally lifted her head. "Really?" she said and sniffed back some tears.
"When I was eight months pregnant, I was out to here," Kathie commented.
Willow glanced at Malloy, shocked to discover he would date a woman with a kid. She was surprised enough as it was that he had attended a musical. But, come to think of it, he didn't look all that happy about being present. He kept reaching up to tug at his tie.
And, wow, did Deputy Malloy look good in a tie or what. He sure could clean up nice. He scowled her way as if he could sense her studying him, and though Willow was a little embarrassed to get caught ogling, she didn't duck her head. She merely met his stare head on and felt the immediate shock of arousal when their gazes connected.
Kathie once again gave him an expert nudge in the ribs to gain his attention. "Wasn't I huge?" she pressed.
He grunted out a non-committal sound as if he knew answering either way would get him into trouble. All the while, his eyes never left Willow.
Still finding it hard to breathe, she gazed back, wondering how he could know this woman even when she was pregnant. Were they his kids? How many did they have together? She prayed it wasn't a serious relationship, maybe just one of those on-again, off-again things that ended with a few children.
Willow winced and glanced away. Right. She was smart enough to realize that if Kathie could get him to take her to a musical, there had to be some strong ties biding them together.
It struck her that he'd cheated on this woman. He'd cheated with Willow.
He'd made her adulterous, damn it.
If she'd only known he was involved with someone else, she never would've—
Oh, who was she kidding? Nothing could've stopped her that night. She'd wanted Malloy, and he could've been married for all it mattered. She would've taken him anyway.
Swallowing at that troubling realization, she glanced toward Kathie, who was currently praising Camille for her slim ankles that weren't even swollen.
"Oh, they are a little," Camille corrected.
Kathie gave her a look. "Well, if that's swollen, my dear, then you have nothing to worry about."
Malloy took Kathie's elbow. "Crowd's thinning down."
Kathie rolled her eyes his way only to turn back to Camille and grasp her hand. "You take care of that precious baby, Camille. It was nice to meet you."
"You too," Camille told her.
Dylan smiled approvingly and nodded at Kathie.
And then Kathie turned t
o say goodbye to Willow.
"Thank you," Willow murmured to Malloy's date. "She needed that." But even as she spoke her gratitude, she lifted her eyes to the woman's man. "Malloy," she said coolly.
He met her gaze, but didn't respond otherwise. He merely turned and led Kathie Becker away.
~ * ~
As they finally headed toward the exit, Raith heard Taggart's wife repeat, "Malloy?" in shock as if she recognized the name.
He gave a smug grin. Either Taggart or DeVane had been talking to the preggo about him and his night with Willow. God, what a night that had been. It had been a week and he still shuddered with arousal when he thought about it.
He'd been dazed since then, wondering if he would ever experience that kind of sex again, that kind of woman again. Seeing her this soon, being close enough to smell her, to reach out and touch her, drove him mad.
He returned Kathie home, semi-aroused with Willow's face floating through his mind. And after he dropped his sister off, he couldn't help it, he passed by DeVane's place on his way home, just a routine drive-by to make sure everything looked okay.
But when he arrived, a light glaring from her kitchen window told him she had yet to go to bed.
Unable to control his irritating need to see her just one more time, he pulled alongside the curb and killed the engine. He called himself ten kinds of stupid for crawling back to her. She would probably kick him out on his ass, but it was almost worth the risk. Just thinking about sliding inside her one more time had him so hard, he picked up his pace, almost jogging to her back door.
He knocked; a voice inside called, "It's open."
Raith rolled his eyes. Did the woman ever practice personal safety? He was going to teach her to keep her doors locked if it was the last thing he did.
He knocked again.
There was a pause before her voice drew closer as she grumbled, "I said it was ope—"
She yanked the door inward, and there she appeared, so damn beautiful his heart stopped for a full second.
"Malloy," she breathed, her voice going from irritated to winded in a nanosecond.
He arched a brow. "I thought I told you to keep this door locked."
Her shock immediately transformed into annoyance. Lifting an
eyebrow, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, your date certainly ended short."
"It wasn't a date," he said, glancing pointedly over her shoulder and into the kitchen, letting her know he wanted to be let in. "I was roped into taking my sister to that crappy show for her birthday."
"Your sister?" DeVane's eyebrows winged up before she shrugged as if it made no difference to her. "She was your sister? Hmm. She seemed nice."
Raith's gaze slid back to hers. "She is nice." He narrowed his eyes, wondering if maybe she'd been jealous. But he could find nothing in her frosty expression. Damn, she was just as good at hiding her thoughts as he was.
Willow lifted her face to boldly meet his gaze. "And it wasn't a crappy show."
"Was too," he shot back before he swiftly leaned in through the opened doorway to kiss her.
She gasped against his mouth moments before her hands reached out and buried themselves in his hair.
It wasn't a light, tender kiss but strong in depth and passion. Man, he loved kissing her.
"You going to let me inside?" he asked against her mouth. "Or do I have to take you here in the doorway?"
His crude question caused her to push against his chest. Raith tightened his hold for a second before he regretfully let go.
She glared. "Don't you think it's a little presumptuous of you to come here tonight, expecting me to want to play?"
Hell, yes, it had been presumptuous and dangerous for his wellbeing as well as absolutely stupid. But all he said was, "If you don't want it then tell me no."
It was an outright challenge. He knew she wanted him, knew she was going to let him in. He could tell by her breathing.
But he should've known Willow wasn't one to back down from a challenge.
"No," she said staring him straight in the eye.
Shit.
For a second, he didn't move, not one muscle. He hid his surprise and disappointment. But an achy want oozed off him in waves, and he could tell by the satisfied smirk on her face that she knew he was dying.
Ignoring the twinge he felt, he cocked his shoulder in a careless shrug. "Fine," he murmured and abruptly turned away.
He got five steps before she crumbled.
"Hey, Malloy," she called after him.
Slowly he stopped and turned back. The light coming from the kitchen behind her lit up her body, providing a taunting silhouette that made his mouth water. If she said one thing to tease him, he was going down, straight to his knees, and he was going to beg like a little street urchin.
He wanted her that bad.
But thank God and all the saints, she merely stepped aside and let the door fall open another foot in blatant invitation.
Raith paused, briefly uncertain. He didn't care for the emotions surging through him. It was like he had to have Willow DeVane or die. He didn't need that kind of dependency in his life. He just needed to stay away before he became well and truly addicted.
But, hell, she looked so good. His body took the first step for him. He took the second himself. And the third, and fourth and fifth. Willow backed further into the room as he entered. She stared with an expression that said she already regretted her decision. When he reached back to close the door and lock it, she jumped at the click of sound as he sealed their fates.
Then he started toward her. But with every stride he prowled forward, she countered, skittering one backward. Still, his steps were longer and he advanced until they were only inches apart. He watched her swallow nervously.
"Why do you look so scared?"
"Why do you look so predatory?" she shot back.
He smiled wolfishly, only emphasizing her point. "Because I feel predatory."
She frowned. "I hope you don't expect me to act the helpless prey?"
"Helpless?" He laughed. "I couldn't even begin to picture you helpless."
Her nod showed approval. "Good answer, Malloy. You must be looking to get lucky."
"Not looking." He reached out and curved his large palm around the back of her head, drawing her closer. "I've already found." Everything he'd ever wanted in a woman.
He kissed her. She made a sound against his mouth, startled yet hungry. It went straight to his loins. He needed her fast and hot and now. Growling in primal urgency, he grabbed two handfuls of her butt and picked her up. Her legs automatically wound around his hips. Raith continued to kiss her as he carried her all the way to her room, where he let her fall back on her bed and crawled over her.
"I want my mouth on you." He kissed her again as he worked to undo the buttons on her shirt.
"You won't hear any complaints from me," Willow rasped.
And he didn't.
Eleven
Another week passed. Raith continued to daydream about DeVane. In fact, that's exactly what he was doing as he left the county attorney's office at the courthouse after discussing a case with Rodney Hale, an assistant county attorney who acted as the juvenile prosecutor.
Hale had agreed to meet Raith to discuss filing a charge against three teens he'd caught a few months before, smoking pot behind the high school.
"Shit head," he muttered, shoving his way from the office and putting a little extra force into the door as he pushed it open, venting his rage as best he could.
From the way Hale acted, the teenagers' offence was no big deal. He dragged his feet on the case, driving Raith insane. Situations like this made him wonder why he even bothered. He worked his butt off, trying to make the world a better place for people who actually obeyed the laws. Yet his efforts didn't mean squat when the damn lawyer refused to do anything about it.
He wished someone would just scare the crap out of those boys with a hefty sentence and make them straighten their act. H
e wished Willow's brother handled juvenile cases, because Chase's co-assistant county attorney, Hale, would let the defense plead their case down until they would barely get a slap on the hand, if he even bothered to file a charge against them. The next night, they'd be out on the streets, breaking the law all over again. Raith would be dealing with them their entire lives, arresting them for stupid, petty crimes.
It was sad and depressing.
He'd done his part, catching them and taking them to juvie jail. It would be nice if someone would pick up where his job left off and continue the punishment. But that someone definitely wasn't going to be Rodney Hale.