by Alison Kent
He wanted her to share the rest of his days.
She’d finished eating now and stood to gather empty plates from the others in her circle. Leaning down, she spoke to his mother. Her voice was so sweet to his ears. He didn’t know when he’d last heard it like that, pure and honest, sincere and unaffected. It was the voice of the woman who loved him.
She loved him and the world hadn’t stopped. His heart had, but just for a moment. She’d said those three words and instead of seeing the end to his way of life, he’d seen a new beginning.
He’d respected Willa’s obvious wish to wait and conduct their private business privately. But now that they’d contributed to the social niceties and familial harmony, they could make like a banana and split. He didn’t want to wait any longer to get started on the rest of their life.
“Excuse me,” he said to whoever remained in the group where he sat. He heard his dad’s voice and Rob’s but he wasn’t sure if they answered or were only making more sports talk. His concentration was all for Willa.
He caught up with her at the end of the long tables of food. She tossed soda cans into the recycling bin, paper plates into the trash, then turned and plowed into his chest with a loud, “Oomph.”
“Joel. Sorry.” A quick laugh. “Teach me to eat my weight in barbecue. The reflexes are bogged down in at least a gallon of sauce.”
“A half ounce would be an exaggeration.” He leaned over her to toss away his own trash.
She raised that imperious Willa brow. “You watched me eat?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “And I’m afraid I’m going to have to place you under arrest”
“What?”
He took her upper arm and directed her toward the gate at the side of the yard. “You can’t eat like that and get away with it around here. That’s a violation of statute 94.5.”
“I’m under arrest for violating a radio station’s call signal?” She hurried her steps to match his long urgent stride.
For it had become urgent, this mission he had to accomplish today. “Nice try, but I’m in no mood to cut you any slack. Now, let’s go.”
This was an anticipation he hadn’t felt since... when? Childhood? Birthday surprises and Christmas had brought a sort of expectant thrill. But this was more along the line of the anxiety of waiting on report cards, SAT scores, college acceptance letters. The knowledge that no matter how certain good news seemed, there was always that chance of failure and rejection.
Shaking off as much of the sensation as he could, Joel pushed open the gate, propelling Willa through with his hand still gripping her upper arm. His truck was parked at the end of the long drive and he headed toward it.
“You know,” she began. “You could’ve given me a chance to say goodbye. I’m sure your family thinks I’m extremely rude.”
“No. They just think you’re powerless to resist me.”
“Oh, is that what it is?”
At least she hadn’t contradicted him. That had to be worth a point in his favor. “Hey, they drew their own conclusions. I didn’t say a word.”
“You of the talkative bunch? Didn’t state a persuasive argument in your own favor? I find that hard to believe.”
They’d reached the truck now and Joel pulled open the passenger side door. Her lips a twist of a smile, Willa stopped and faced him, as if braced to outwit his next line of banter.
Instead of delivering words, he delivered a kiss to her waiting mouth. It was a kiss from the heart, not from the loins. A kiss of desire that encompassed body and soul. A kiss that was full and openmouthed yet gently tender and resonant with love. She tasted like the rest of his life and that was good.
He broke away then while he still could, and, before she could think of a comeback, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up onto the seat
“What was that for?” she asked.
He wanted to tell her. Right here. Right now. He needed to tell her, had to tell her. But he couldn’t. Not when the next minute might bring an interruption from the backyard, a neighborly neighbor, or a drive-by audience waving hello.
They were parked at the very end of the driveway, after all, and this conversation wasn’t for public viewing. He looked up as another car turned onto the street. “Let’s get out of here.”
Willa groaned in frustration as he slammed her door, adding, “You’re making me crazy,” as he climbed behind the wheel.
“Back atcha.” He started the engine, glanced in his rearview mirror, then shifted back up into Park. “Criminy. Robbie’s bike’s hanging from the tailgate.”
“I’ll get it,” Willa said and was out of the truck before he could do the honors. He figured she had about as much nervous energy as he did and needed to expend it.
He watched as she lifted the front wheel over the tailgate, bounced the bike on the ground, guided it out of the way, waiting for the oncoming car to pass. But the car didn’t pass. It slowed, pulling up behind his truck, Joel supposed, to ask directions.
Willa leaned down to speak to the driver through the open passenger window. Then...
What the hell?
The driver pushed open the door, and she stepped closer as if she didn’t understand what he wanted. Frowning, she shook her head, glancing back at Joel whose senses were now on high alert. Intuition curled cold tentacles through him, his hackles chilled.
He reached for the door handle and was out of the truck just as a hand grabbed at Willa and jerked her down on the front seat of the car. The driver hit the gas and the open passenger door slammed into the back end of Joel’s truck. Willa screamed.
Joel bounded forward, stopped after one step when through the back window, he saw the driver’s face—and his gun. The Knight. The drug-lord scum Joel had taken down.
And he had Willa.
The chill spread. Ice coated his spine with a fear he’d never known. Even the rage, the howling deadly rage that rose from his soul failed to dispel the rabidly frigid crust of fear.
The scum was dead meat.
Joel jumped back into the truck, slammed into Reverse, shot back out of the driveway and over Robbie’s bike, then blasted forward. The car was but a hundred feet ahead when he reached into the truck’s glove compartment for his gun.
He couldn’t risk a shot. He could see both the driver’s head and Willa’s but he couldn’t shoot, not with the way the car was weaving wildly from one side of the road, where it bounced off the curb, to the other, scraping the first in a trio of parked cars.
Helplessness fueled Joel’s fright and fury, and he jammed his accelerator to the floor. Please, God. Not Willa. This wasn’t going to happen to Willa. She wasn’t going to be used as revenge against him. Not as long as he could draw a breath.
Ahead, the car braked hard on screeching tires, and in the worst of Joel’s nightmares, Willa’s door flew open. She tumbled from the car. His heart hammered. But within half a second he saw the tucked control to her dive and roll. Make the choice, Wolf Man. Willa or the Knight.
No contest.
Joel slid his truck to a stop, shoved open his door, and leaped out to run toward Willa. The car hurtled forward; the Knight whipped his head in search of his hostage, futilely reaching for the open door. He never saw the SUV backing into the street in front of him.
He plowed into the rear quarter panel, his head lashing forward into the windshield then back.
Joel glanced over to the curb where Willa was up on all fours. She waved him on. Pride surged from his deepest core. Relief followed. He moved back to his open door, reached behind his seat for his Kevlar vest, and threw it in her direction.
Turning to the Knight’s car, Joel saw the man stumble out, blood streaming from a gash above his nose. The dealer squinted and raised his gun. Joel dove into the truck’s cab as the shot ripped through the metal frame into the engine block. He readied his weapon, took a deep breath, and peered over the hinge of the open door.
The Knight lurched drunkenly, got off another wild shot as Joel too
k aim. Tit for tat, he thought, wanting to wipe the face of the earth clean of this scum. But knowing his testimony would put away more of his kind, Joel pulled the trigger once, twice.
The Knight went down, clutched his leg with his good hand, his shooting hand limp against the pavement. Joel rushed forward even while the other man strained to lift the gun.
The barrel was up, inches off the ground, the Knight’s hand shaking, his finger squeezing. Joel kicked out as the shot went off, and a burning trail of fire seared the top of his foot before the gun skittered across the pavement.
His chest heaving, sweat stinging his eyes, Joel glared down, his weapon trained on the shooter while the top of his foot burned with a blistering pain. “You’re just damned determined that I’m not going to walk, aren’t you?”
Hearing sirens in the near distance, Joel stared down into stony silence and soulless eyes devoid of emotion. He leveled his gun toward the center of the Knight’s body. This man had nearly cost Joel the most valuable thing he’d ever known.
Suddenly the dealer’s testimony didn’t seem so important.
The downed drug lord spat at Joel. “Go to hell.”
Joel sneered and aimed. “You first.”
“Joel! No!”
Willa’s cry pulled him back from insanity to the moment. He caught a peripheral glimpse of her moving toward him. “Stay by the truck, Willa. Don’t come any closer.”
Front doors were opening then, curtains pushed aside as the curious peered out. Behind him, Joel heard his father call out, and his mother yell at him to wait. Other voices reached him at the same time. Before he could make his way to Willa, three cars from two law enforcement agencies roared around the corner and skidded to a stop in the middle of the street.
Within minutes the neighborhood was teeming with onlookers and crime scene chaos ensued. Joel surrendered the situation and gave his story to the responding officers, all the while watching the paramedics tend to Willa’s cuts and scrapes until he’d had enough.
“I’ll be back,” he told the officers and, leaving them to deal with the human mess on the ground, limped toward his truck. He waved off the paramedics intent on tending to his injury. His focus was onefold and wouldn’t wait any longer.
Wrapped in a light blanket designed to ward off shock, Willa sat sideways behind the wheel of his truck. Her eyes were bright in a face gone pale, yet her smile never wavered and grew wider as he approached. At least until she noticed his limp and the shoe he’d lost to the bullet.
“You need to get that looked at.” Her voice was steady but quiet. As loud as things were around them, he had no trouble hearing her.
“You okay?” he asked. She nodded but it wasn’t good enough so he pressed. “You sure? Nothing’s broken? The baby’s safe? You’re safe? You’re okay?”
“The baby is well protected. And I didn’t even break a nail. Not that I have any to break.” She looked down at her long, strong fingers, her short practical nails.
Relief warmed him and he smiled down at his woman. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her away, to jump behind the wheel and leave this craziness behind. But she was right. He needed to have his foot looked at.
He took hold of her hands, both hands, squeezed her fingers until she looked at his face. Tears brimmed in her eyes, whether from the emotional impact of the moment or from a different source, he didn’t know. He only knew what he had to do, what he’d waited too long to do.
He took a deep breath and said, “You have the right to remain silent.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Of course, I’d rather hear you say ‘I love you.”’
“Oh, Joel. I love you,” she said and this time he knew the source of her tears.
He couldn’t hold back a few of his own, and it felt damn good to know she brought out the best in him. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Or we can go straight to the judge.”
“The judge?” she asked, fighting a smile and playing along.
“A judge. A preacher.” He was doing this all wrong. He didn’t even care. “Whoever can marry us the fastest.”
“Marry us?”
“We’re having a baby, Willa—”
“Which is no reason to get married.”
He thought differently but wasn’t going to argue that point. Not when he had another. “You love me, Willa. You’ve said so yourself. More than once.” He knew that because he’d counted.
“That’s still no reason to get married,” she said, but he saw hope blossom, and joy spring to life. “Us having a baby and me loving you is just not enough.”
“Then before I pass out here, let me give you more.” Standing now on one foot, and leaning his shoulder into the frame of the truck, he placed his palms gently on either side of her face.
“I love you, Willa Grace Darling,” he said, kissing her quickly because he couldn’t wait a moment more. “I want you to be my wife. You deserve better than the danger I’ve put you in. But I’ll do my best to serve and protect you.”
“Protect me?” she asked, bringing up her hands and holding both of his wrists.
“With my life,” he said, touching his forehead to hers and breathing her in. How had he ever thought he could live without her? How had he even existed without knowing her?
“And serve me?” she asked, her voice shaking as badly as he shook to his core.
“Anything you want,” he said, stepping back to take her in, all of her, every single bit.
The happiness of knowing him was bright in her eyes, loving eyes, teasing eyes, eyes that made bachelorhood a bore and life with Willa an adventure he couldn’t wait to start.
“I accept. But I do have one teeny condition,” she said, holding her thumb and forefinger millimeters apart, tears dampening her cheeks.
“Name it,” he said, ready to give her the world.
“It’s about those handcuffs...”
Epilogue
“CAN’T YOU GUYS MOVE THIS bucket any faster?” Sirens blared overhead, lights flashed in through the ambulance windows.
“Hospital’s ten minutes ahead, Wolf Man. We’ll be there in plenty of time.” D. Luza, the ambulance driver, had an ear-to-ear grin on his face.
Joel ground his teeth to keep from smacking it off the guy. But then Willa groaned and squeezed the living daylights out of his hand, and he had thoughts only of her. “We’re almost there, Baby. Hang on, we’re almost there.”
“We’re not going to make it.” She panted, scrunched up her face. “I can’t wait ten minutes.”
H. Boone, the paramedic, met Joel’s panicked expression. “She’s right. This baby’s got a streak of his daddy’s impatience.”
“Criminy. In the ambulance?” Sweating, Joel looked from the medic to Willa—whose eyes were screwed shut, mouth a twisted grimace.
“Okay, Mrs. Wolf Man. Let’s do it.” The medic positioned himself between Willa’s legs. “Detective? Get up there and support her back so she can push.”
Joel did and Willa did and, three long pushes later, the baby did, sliding into the medic’s waiting hands. Willa gasped and laughed. Joel gasped then loudly whooped. The medic only smiled.
“It’s a boy,” said the medic.
“It’s a Wolfsley,” said Willa.
“It’s our son,” said Joel, tears filling his eyes.
And he leaned down to kiss his wife.
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Author’s Note
THIS BOOK WAS ORIGINALLY published in 1999 as The Badge and the Baby for Harlequin Temptation. It has been updated and revised.
Reader Letter
Dear Reader,
I can’t tell you how much fun it was to revisit Willa and Joel. It had been a long time since I’d read their book—so long, in fact, that I didn’t even remember that Joel was in a cast until I hit the end of
the first scene! It read to me like a brand new story, and I hope it has for you, too.
One of the best things readers can do for authors is to leave reviews. If that’s something you’re inclined to do, thank you!! If you enjoyed Joel and Willa’s story, I’d love for you to visit my website and learn more about my books (written under this name and others), and sign up for my newsletter for updates.
Thanks again for reading!
Alison Kent
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