“I can’t argue with that. But I’m good at what I do.” His lips brushed her temple.
Cook or get out of the kitchen. Jump or get off the trampoline. Oh hell, she was headed for the circus and Tuesday wasn’t soon enough. She buried her face in his shoulder. He felt so good, smelled so good. Then, remembering the sedan parked beside them, she straightened.
The FBI agent wasn’t the only one watching. A frowning Mr. Prack stood at the door to Papa’s Pizza.
Macy sighed. “We’d better go in. It’s the Prick.”
Jake scowled. “What did he do?”
“He’s just an ass.”
He looked at her, clearly not convinced. “He’s the one who asked if you wanted to bump uniforms.”
“Forget it.”
“Forget it? That’s sexual harassment.”
“Yeah, but it’s my word against his. And he’s never touched me. And he’s stopped making passes. Now he’s just an ass.”
“And you let him get away with that?”
“I’d lose my job. You know that. I know that. And I’ve just got too much on my plate right now for that to happen.”
“You’re going to start working at the church in a few weeks. Until that works out, I can—”
“I told you, I’ve still got to work part-time somewhere else. Law school isn’t cheap. The job market sucks. And we already discussed you becoming my sugar daddy. Not happening.”
He exhaled a deep breath. “Hear me out. I can make it a loan. Shit, you can pay me interest.”
She leaned her head back onto the car seat. “Jake, I need to do this myself.”
“Why won’t you let me help you?”
“Because you’re helping too much already. Look at you. You’re a cop playing a pizza-delivery person. You fixed my house, saved my life, and I’m staying at your place. I can’t handle any more help from you before I…”
“Before you what?”
Turn into my mom. Become totally dependent on you. “Go crazy.” She got out of the car.
They hadn’t yet gotten inside when Jake’s cell phone rang. He hung back, and Macy hung with him, thinking the call might be about Billy.
“Baldwin,” he answered, giving her a quick glance. Then he handed her the phone. “It’s Nan.”
“Everything okay?” Macy asked.
“Yes and no,” Nan answered. “It’s your mom. Can you come by after work?”
“Sure.” Macy met Jake’s gaze, then said into the phone, “Is she crying again?”
“Not crying.” Nan’s concern carried over the phone line. “She…had her belly button pierced.”
“Oh, God.” Macy pressed her palm to her forehead. “She’s given up crying and taken up body piercing. Can you imagine what she’ll look like in a few months?”
“That’s why I want to nip this in the bud,” Nan said.
“I’ll be there as soon as I get off. And for God’s sake, hide all the needles from her.”
Macy pulled up in front of Nan’s an hour later and glanced at Jake. “I wish you’d let me drive you back to your place. I’ll be okay. I doubt Tanks was waiting to follow me from Papa’s Pizza.”
“No way. I’m fine, and I’ll wait here in the car. I’ll probably fall asleep. I’ll be here when you come out. Go.” He reached around her to open the door.
She leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks.” She tried to shake off the thrill of kissing him.
Inside the house, she found Nan on her yoga mat and her mom in the recliner. “Macy,” her mom said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Macy went to sit on the sofa. “Just stopping by.”
Her mom frowned. “You told her, didn’t you?”
Nan pulled a knee to her nose. “I might have mentioned it.”
Macy’s mom shook her head. “So I had my belly button pierced. What’s the big deal?”
“You’re fifty-six. And you’re my daughter,” Nan snapped.
“Show me the law that says older people can’t do this.”
Macy tried to understand. “Are you, like, dating some guy who owns a piercing parlor?”
“I’m not dating anyone!” her mother snapped. “You were right the other night. Men are nothing but trouble. They—they lead you to believe one thing and then do something completely different. For God’s sake, she was half his age!”
Macy and Nan looked at each other and shared a knowing nod.
“Who did what and who looked half whose age?” Nan asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Because if I talk about it I’ll cry, and I’m not going to cry about another man. Except for my son.” Tears filled Faye’s eyes. “These are for my son.” She pointed to her eyes. “I can cry about Billy. He’s my baby boy, and he’s God only knows where, and…”
Macy moved to sit on the arm of the recliner. She leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “What happened, Mom? Tell me everything.”
Jake opened his condo door and watched Macy walk inside, pick up Elvis, and carry him to the sofa. She looked exhausted and nervous again. She hadn’t told him what was wrong with her mom. He’d wanted to ask, but he respected her privacy.
Leaning down, he kissed her. “Want some hot chocolate?”
“You got some?”
He winked at her. “Bought it today.”
“You’re too good to be real.”
He laughed. “I’m not perfect, but I’m real.”
After she’d drunk her hot cocoa and he’d had a beer, Jake wondered how to approach the subject of sleeping arrangements. He wanted her beside him, in his bed. He hadn’t slept worth a damn last night without her. Of course, he hadn’t slept the night before, when she’d been beside him, but he’d much rather have had her close than not. Especially when he was afraid she’d walk out of his life just as quickly as she’d walked into it.
It wasn’t as if he thought she might walk out the door. But he’d never had to work so hard to win someone over. And while there were moments when she looked at him and he felt sure she was in this for the long haul, he’d then see a flicker of something else in her eyes, something that suggested she was waiting for the right instant to run.
She sat upright. “I’m going to wash off the pepperoni smell.”
He caught her around her middle, leaned in, and sniffed her neck. “I love pepperoni.”
“I hope so,” she laughed. “Because you smell like it, too.”
He raised his arm to his nose. “Yeah, I guess I’d much rather smell you.” He slowly kissed her, and when she finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. They both rose and went to shower—separately, to Jake’s unspoken disappointment.
Ten minutes later, he towel-dried his hair and went to find Macy. She was in the hall bathroom, door open, brushing her hair. They had stopped by her house during the night’s pizza runs to grab some of her things, and now she wore a different pair of pajamas. They were still cotton, but they were light blue, and the stretchy tank top fit her perfectly. He let his gaze slide down her body, appreciating every dip and curve.
He walked up behind her, curled his arm around her abdomen, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. “You tired?” he asked.
“A little.”
He rested his chin on top of her head. “Do me a big favor?”
“What?” She met his eyes in the mirror.
“Sleep with me tonight.” He pressed a finger to her lips before she could say no. “I promise nothing will happen. I remember Aunt Flo. I just want you there. I didn’t sleep worth a damn last night.”
She looked as if she were going to argue, then nodded. He laced his fingers through hers and led her to his bedroom before she changed her mind.
He pulled back the covers and watched her climb in. Then he grinned. “You made my bed?”
“And washed your sheets. I didn’t want cooties.”
“I don’t have cooties.” Once they both settled in, he was afraid to reach over for fear she’d assume he was trying somethi
ng. So he opted to get permission. “Can I hold you?”
She rolled closer and pillowed her head on his shoulder. He curled his arm around her back and rested his hand on her hip. “This feels so right,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she agreed. Her cat jumped up on the bed and settled in beside her.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he could tell she was still awake. “A hundred bucks for your thoughts,” he said.
He felt her smile against his bare chest. “I thought a penny was the going rate.”
“Inflation.”
She chuckled, but the sweet sound came and went too quickly. Then she sighed. “I’m worried. My mom. Mostly Billy. And…I feel guilty.”
He ran a hand through her hair. The silky strands felt a little damp. “Guilty about what?”
“About having fun tonight with you. Having fun with you since the morning after you showed up.”
“You didn’t have fun with me the first night.” He shifted. The cat hissed.
“No, you were a jerk then. Except when you stood up to Tom.” She paused. “And I feel guilty about enjoying being here right now, when I should be worried about my brother. I mean, I am worried about him, but this feels good. How can something good be happening when—”
“Don’t do this,” Jake said. “As far as we know, Billy is okay. And as much as you love him—” He paused, not knowing if he could say what he had to without hurting her. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted.
“What?” She petted Elvis.
He forced himself to finish. “As much as you love him, he brought this on himself. I’m not saying you shouldn’t love him. But you can’t let his mistakes punish you.”
“I know that in my head,” Macy admitted. “But he’s not a bad kid. He loves me, Jake. And I love him. And…he stood up for me.” Her breath caught. “He took a beating that should have been mine.”
A warm tear fell to his chest, and Jake tightened his hold. “Who did he stand up against?” Jake remembered her mentioning this previously, but she’d never explained. Now he had to know. He wanted to know everything about her: what made her laugh, what made her sad. Everything.
“My dad.” Her voice came out wobbly.
Jake’s stomach bottomed out. He’d had perfect parents. He might not have agreed with all their beliefs, but he’d never doubted their love. Being a cop, he’d come face-to-face with imperfect parents, but he still couldn’t fathom how that happened. “What?”
“He was a mean drunk. He didn’t drink all the time. But when he did he’d lose it completely, and sometimes he’d hit my mom. Once, when I tried to stop him, he hit me. And the night before my birthday…”
Her voice held so much hurt that Jake’s chest felt a lead weight upon it. “What happened?”
“Mom was going tonight school to become a nurse. I was watching Billy.” She paused. “My dad came home drunk. I sent Billy to his room and went to mine. Daddy followed me and started screaming. Billy ran in and got between us.” She grabbed for the sheet and wiped her tears. For a minute, she didn’t talk. Then: “I’ll never forget Billy saying, ‘You’re not going to hurt my sister!’ ” Her voice trembled. “He hit him, Jake. Knocked him across the room. I thought he’d killed him.”
Jake waited a whole minute before he asked, “What did you do?”
“I threw the lamp at him. I called him bad names I didn’t even know I knew. He left and I dialed nine-one-one. Mama got home before the ambulance. Billy woke up, but he couldn’t remember what happened.
“Mom made me lie,” she continued after a moment of silence. “Made me tell them that Billy had fallen out of bed. She said Daddy didn’t mean to do it. That he was sick because of his drinking.” Jake felt her wad up a fistful of blanket. “I hated her for it. Then Daddy left the next day and Mama fell apart. And I hated her even more because I knew she still loved him.”
“Oh, shit.” Jake bundled Macy closer, aching for her, wishing he could impart just a little of the normalcy of his own childhood. But he couldn’t.
“We moved in with Nan and she took over. Mom cried all the time. Stopped going to school. Stopped working. It took years, but I finally stopped hating her and started hating what she was.”
Jake ignored the cat as it moved to lay on the edge of his pillow. “What was she?”
“Weak. Codependent. A victim. I swore I’d never be that. But I am.” She sniffled. “I let Tom get away with things. I was so scared of losing him, I made excuses. I was willing to be a victim. I put up with so much because…I’m just like her. I suspected he was cheating on me a year after our wedding. I didn’t do shit.” She sniffled again. “But you did leave him.” Thoughts of Tom hurting Macy dug into Jake’s gut. Silence filled the room. “Did he hit you?” He’d kill the asshole.
“No. He’d get grabby and yell. And I would just take it.”
“He was an idiot.” Jake now understood even more why Macy fought so hard for independence.
She rested her hand on his shoulder, then pulled back. “Ugh! I slimed you.” She scrubbed the sheet over his wet flesh. “Sorry.”
“You can slime me anytime.” He pulled her on top of him. Her weight was the sweetest feeling in the world. He wanted her to lean on him completely, to let him take care of her.
She blinked. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she looked happier. She grabbed the sheet and cleaned his chest again. “I’m going to have to rewash your bedding.”
“You can slime my sheets, too. I don’t give a damn. As long as you’re here.”
He brought his mouth to hers. She tasted salty, like tears. He kept kissing her, wanting to chase away the hurtful memories. Tenderness turned to passion, but he remembered his promise not to try anything. “We…should stop.”
She rolled off his chest. “Bathroom.” She and the cat jumped out of bed.
Jake was still talking himself down when she curled back against him. He almost told her to give him a few inches, but he realized he’d rather suffer an endless hard-on than push her away. He wrapped his arm around her and told his libido to go to hell—he’d made a promise, and he’d keep it. It didn’t matter how good her soft breasts felt pressed against his side, or how seductively her hair tickled his shoulder.
She snuggled closer. Her hand whispered over his chest. “Your heart’s thumping.” Her hand whispered lower, all the way to the elastic of his boxers; then it inched back up his abdomen to his chest. “Now it’s beating faster.”
“It does that.” Realizing a part of him was standing at attention, he bent his knee to hide it.
She slowly traced a circle around his left nipple with her fingers. Sweet torture. She scooted closer. Her body pressed firmly to his side. Every inch of him was aware of every inch of her. The arch of her foot climbed his right leg. The woman didn’t have a clue what she was doing to him.
Or did she?
Her lips moved against his ear, and her tongue moistened the lobe. Was she purposely trying to torment him?
She started talking. “Last night, when you came in from showering, you had a drop of water that started here and”—she poised her finger at the top of his chest and slid it down—“ended here.”
She drew a heart around his navel. He knew it was a heart, because every nerve ending was focused on her finger’s path.
“Then…” She continued, and so did her finger. “I saw that same drop of water moving down, all the way to—”
“Stop!” He caught her hand.
“Why?” She giggled, a feminine sexy laugh. “Aunt Flo left. My ‘woman thingy’s’ gone. She left late last night. I just…freshened up.”
It took a full second for the words to register. Letting go of her hand, Jake cleared his throat. “So…where did that drop of water go?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Her cheek against his chest, Macy tucked her fingers under the elastic band of Jake’s boxers. His sex, hot and smooth, bounced against the top of her hand. Her insecurities bounced with it. He’d ha
d lots of women. Could she compete? Hadn’t Tom’s infidelity meant she sucked at this? She glanced up, almost called it quits, but then she saw the way he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her quite like that. A tiny bit of confidence started to bloom.
Turning her hand, she wrapped her fingers around him. He was big, and grew larger and hotter as she tightened her hold. She glided her hand down to the mass of springy curls at the base of his sex, and then up to the tip. Up and over the ridge. His silky length pulsated against her palm.
He sucked in a breath. “I don’t know how much I can stand, Macy.”
Insecurities forgotten, she wanted to drive him wild. Images of taking that smooth tip inside her mouth filled her mind. Still slowly stroking his sex, she kissed his chest, passed her tongue over his tightened nipple, then scooted down to kiss his rib cage. His navel. Another scoot, and she lowered his boxers. Her hair fell and brushed against his abdomen as she pressed her lips against the swollen tip of his sex.
A deep hissing sound emerged from Jake’s throat. “My turn!” He flipped her over.
“I didn’t get much of a turn,” she complained as she slipped the back of her hand down his belly. “You don’t like—”
“Oh, I like. Really like. I’m claiming a rain check.”
He caught her wrists, leaned forward and placed her hands above her head. “Leave these right here,” he commanded.
She extended her hands and gripped the bottom rung of the metal headboard. He gazed at them and then his hungry gaze lowered. “Yeah, like that.” He found the hem of her pajama top, and the backs of his fingers brushed against her abdomen as he slowly pulled it up. His gaze stayed on her eyes. “I’ve wanted you naked since I first landed on top of you.” He pulled her shirt over her head. She released her hands from the headboard for only a second, so he could remove it.
“Your hair was the first thing I noticed.” His voice was all heat, all sex. Reaching forward, he ran a hand though the curls on her head. “Then”—he pulled back, and his gaze lowed to her breasts—“I saw your shirt open and that blue bra. Your nipples were hard, just like now. And I wanted to do this.” He cupped her breasts in his warm hands and pinched their peaks between thumb and forefinger. “And this.” He dipped down and took her right breast in his mouth, half sucking, half kissing. Moisture pooled between Macy’s legs.
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