Sweet Danger

by Cheryl Pierson

Jesse's eyes opened slowly, cracking to allow a little light, then closing again.

  Lindy.

  He felt her beside him, heard the quick breath she took as she leaned forward, and seconds later, put her hand against his, their palms together.

  "Jesse…"

  His name on her lips, soft as a whispered prayer, as if she wasn't sure whether to believe what she saw or not. Was he really awake? Or was he dreaming this? Some kind of a crazy morphine induced vision of an angel? She whispered his name again, and he knew it was no dream.

  "Jesse…"

  He struggled to open his eyes and look at her, just because he knew it was what she wanted so badly. The worry was evident in her voice, overridden only by the love.

  When he finally managed it, he found himself looking up into Lindy's face, her own dark eyes full of question and anxiety. Lindy's expression changed as a wide smile chased away the lines of worry. A sheen of tears glimmered brightly in her eyes.

  "Hey…Lindy…don't cry…" His voice came out rusty and hoarse, his lips dry and swollen. He tried to lift his other hand to pull her to him, but it was hooked to the IV. Lindy gently held him in place so he couldn't dislodge the needle.

  "No, sweetheart. Just lie still. Don't move this arm." She bent over him, putting her cheek next to his. He raised his arm anyway and hugged her close to him, her tears damp on his skin.

  "How long…" He broke off and turned his head to kiss her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the unexpected tears.

  She sniffed and lifted herself away, wiping furiously at her eyes. "Not…not even a whole day. They brought you in this morning a little before two and you've been asleep about twelve hours."

  He shifted in the bed, a low groan escaping him as the shoulder wound and the one lower, in his side, both protested with the movement. His hand automatically moved to the fire in his side, but he consciously stopped himself as he realized Lindy was watching.

  "It's okay, Officer. You've been 'outed' by the hospital staff. You didn't think you'd been left alone for twelve solid hours without someone coming in to check on your wounds, did you?"

  Jesse sighed. "Hardin. He got his shot off." He grinned ruefully. "And I didn't—didn't move quick enough."

  "Do you realize how close you came to…" Lindy began hotly, then stopped, focusing all her attention on keeping the tears at bay.

  Jesse understood. "I guess…I could ask you that same…question…"

  There was no denying it. She had been in a precariously deadly situation at Hardin's hands; one that, had Jesse not intervened, could have cost her life and possibly the life of their child…if they had made one together.

  Jesse watched as her answer died unspoken with the realization of what he had done for her…deliberately drawn Hardin's attention away from her at the crucial moment, giving himself up as the clear and perfect target Hardin truly wanted.

  If Brett Lanham hadn't pulled the trigger when he did, Jesse would have certainly been killed. Jesse closed his eyes, moistening his dry lips.

  "They brought some ice chips." Lindy offered, laying a hand on his arm in silent apology.

  He nodded. "That'd be good."

  Lindy offered him a spoonful of the ice, and he reached to push the button, raising the head of the bed.

  "Where's Nash?" he asked around the mouthful of ice.

  Lindy smiled. "With my dad. He took him home to shower and promised him some fast food."

  Jesse couldn't mask his surprise. "Your dad?"

  Lindy scooped another bite of ice for him. "Hey, tough cops aren't all bad, Jesse."

  He reached to take the cup and spoon from her. "I can do it," he murmured, seeing the question in her expression. He ignored the tease for a moment as he took another bite of the ice.

  "What about Jake and Melissa?"

  Lindy sighed. "Jesse—" Haltingly, she told him how Melissa reacted when they met, her willingness to leave Nash, and her eager fondness for the gaming tables.

  Jesse shook his head. "I never figured her that way," he said quietly. "But, I never figured Jake for a lush, either."

  What now? Nash deserved so much more. How could he ever make it up to him? "I can't leave him there. I don't want to leave him there," he corrected. "I want him with me."

  "He wants to be with you, Jesse."

  Jesse closed his eyes. How could he spring this on Lindy? It was too much. He wanted it all—Lindy and his son, a home—finally. He swallowed hard. He was going to have to make some tough decisions again. Could he risk losing Lindy? She'd never bargained for an "instant family," and it was just too much to ask.

  "We'll…have to get some bunkbeds, you know. I'm not sure what they cost."

  Jesse opened his eyes. Lindy looked so unsure of herself, as if she'd mentioned a taboo subject. Was his disbelief written on his face? He couldn't believe she meant it. "Lindy…I can't ask you to take that on. Me…Nash. No woman in her right mind would sign on—"

  "Shh…" Her kiss was gentle and promising, and Jesse felt hope rise within him again. "You're going to have one very disappointed little boy on your hands if you don't get those beds. And who told you I was in my right mind, anyhow?" she teased. Her smile faded, and she went on. "I didn't mean to rush things about us, Jesse. If you want to wait…"

  He shook his head, relief shuddering through him. He didn't say anything for a long space of time. How could he tell her what was in his heart? He'd let it settle…find the words, if he just took his time. He pushed it back for the moment and brought up something else he wasn't sure she was aware of. It would have to be settled, too, if Ken Oliver was going to be a permanent part of his future. His past with Lindy's father hadn't always been smooth.

  Finally, he said, "Your dad was chief when I came on the force."

  Lindy nodded, smiling. "He told me. Everything."

  Jesse looked up at her. "I'm surprised. He never struck me as the type to admit he made a mistake. About anything."

  Lindy shrugged. "He said you two had some problems."

  "That's putting it mildly."

  "I hope we can all get past that."

  Jesse took another bite of ice and let it melt in his mouth. Nothing had ever tasted so good. Nothing, except Lindy Oliver.

  "You sure he won't mind his baby girl married to a half-breed?"

  "Jesse, stop. Don't say that." Lindy suddenly sat forward, her hand atop his, the plastic spoon forgotten against her wrist. "Hey. Did you just ask me to marry you?"

  Jesse looked down at her hand on his. He didn't answer right away. Finally, he spoke, carefully choosing his words. "No. I…didn't ask you like I should have, Lindy. I assumed, because of what happened between us, the things we said…the way our thoughts and emotions ran while we were being held…but I didn't ask you like a woman wants." He raised his eyes to hers, her fingers tightening on his, slipping into his grasp as the spoon fell to the sheets. "Will you? Marry me?"

  He stopped, afraid he'd said it wrong, then plunged on. "I love you. I think…I knew the minute we sat down in that booth. But I was running, like I had been for the last four years, denying every feeling I had."

  "It was real," Lindy said quietly. "All of it was real. Jesse, I loved you even before that."

  He couldn't hold back the smile that came to his lips. "When?"

  Lindy bent and kissed him softly, brushing her mouth across his, reminding him of the quick kiss he'd given her under the table just as all hell had broken loose, just a little over a day earlier.

  "When you gave me the last sugar ring." She looked up into his eyes. "The beginning of every sweet thing to come…for both of us."

  * * * * *

  The wedding had been what Jesse called "under control"—though not as simple as either he or Lindy would have liked. They’d wanted to slip away to the courthouse, but Lindy couldn't bear her father's disappointment when she'd mentioned it.

  In the end, they compromised with a small church wedding. Sending invitations would require lengthe
ning the time until they could be married. They both chafed at the wait, though it allowed for some necessary things to be settled.

  Jake and Melissa had mutually agreed to a divorce, and Nash had been with Lindy and Jesse ever since the night Melissa left him at the hospital. Jake arrived to see Jesse the next evening, prepared to take Nash home with him. A quiet conversation between the two brothers had sent Jake on his way less than an hour later…alone.

  Now, Lindy mused over the two weeks that had gone by since that fateful Friday morning in Silverman's. She was married. Mrs. Jesse Nightwalker.

  And this was her wedding night. She looked around the cottage Jesse had brought her to. The place where he'd grown up…a three-hour drive from Oklahoma City into the Choctaw Territory of southeastern Oklahoma.

  While she'd been planning their whirlwind wedding, Jesse had been planning their honeymoon. So far, it was perfect. The evening was chilled with the hint of autumn. She stepped out of the shower and reached for the fluffy towel. From the bedroom, she could hear the sounds of Jesse laying a fire in the small corner fireplace. Her mind wandered back to the wedding ceremony as she dried herself.

  It had been a larger crowd than she had anticipated, and it made her throat go dry at the sight. But as she'd walked down the aisle on her father's arm, her trepidation vanished. Jesse was waiting for her, and that was all that mattered. When their eyes met, everything else fell away. For that moment in time, they were alone in their own world.

  Lindy couldn't remember much about the ceremony itself. She'd managed to repeat her vows, but had been so besotted at the sight of Jesse Nightwalker she had to admit she'd not paid a lot of attention to the promises she made before God and man. Jesse must have realized it. It was what had finally brought her back to reality—that warm glow of suppressed mirth lurking in his obsidian eyes.

  But as he began to repeat the familiar words himself, all hint of laughter fled. He was promising her forever…a future they hadn't been at all sure of, only two weeks earlier.

  Later, at the reception, after the toasts and the heartfelt congratulations, the handshakes and hugs, the floor had cleared, leaving Lindy and Jesse alone in the spotlight for the traditional dance.

  A secret smile lit her face as she thought of the way Jesse had looked. She brushed out her damp auburn hair, remembering. She'd seen more anxiety in his handsome features at that moment than in all the time they'd been at Tabor Hardin's hands. He'd been willing to do it for her, just as he'd offered his life for hers.

  She'd slowly reached to put her arms around him as the unmistakable strains of Unchained Melody began. When she looked up at him, she'd felt the tension ease from his body.

  "It's just you and me," she'd whispered, melting against him, her head touching his chest.

  "Like it should've always been," he murmured.

  Now, as Lindy reached for the lacy peignoir set her older sister had insisted on giving her, her hand closed over the soft cotton flannel shirt that had been left in its place.

  A puzzled look stole across her tawny features, her eyes narrowing in question. There was no mistake that it was meant for her; the filmy cream peignoir was missing. Jesse must've made the exchange as she showered. It was warm from the glow of the overhead heater. She slipped into it, grateful for the enshrouding soft warmth, although it came almost to her knees and the sleeves hung several inches below her fingertips. She smiled, looking at herself in the mirror. She shook her head, pulling the sleeves back, and reached for the hair dryer. She may not look particularly sexy, at least for a few minutes, but the shirt would come off soon enough anyway. If he wanted her to wear it, what difference did it make? She hugged the material close.

  Then it came to her. Jesse was telling her again how much he loved her. The see-through peignoir wouldn't be worn any longer than this flannel shirt, but the shirt was something of his. Something that would keep her warm, something soft against her skin and, she acknowledged, something more fitting to her personality than the lacy nightclothes her sister had provided. Jesse had known that, had thought of all these things. Quick tears sprang to her eyes at the care he had shown.

  She heard him step up close to the bathroom door and give a quick knock.

  "Lindy? You okay, honey?"

  She nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. I'm fine—just gotta dry my hair." She turned the hair dryer on, smiling at his poorly masked eagerness.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jesse turned away from the door, padding back to the bedroom. He felt like a caged animal…nervous, almost. He smiled at the notion that one small slip of a girl could make him feel so ill at ease, so anxious. He looked around at the sound of the bathroom door opening, his eyes finding hers in the dim light of the evening, and he finished his musings. So…loved.

  She stood in the hallway, as if waiting for something. Belatedly, Jesse realized she was feeling all the same things he was. Though there had been some opportunity for them to sleep together during the last two weeks, by tacit agreement, they hadn't. Nash had stayed with Ken Oliver the couple of days until Jesse's release, and had been inseparable, almost, from his father for the rest of that week. But the week before the wedding, Jesse had enrolled him in a new school in the hope of getting his son's life back to some semblance of normalcy.

  Jesse held his hands out, and with two quick steps, Lindy was in his arms. Nothing had ever felt so right. His heartbeat quickened as her cheek lay trustingly against his bare chest. He'd left his shirt unbuttoned out of habit after his shower. The stitches over the hole in his side were slowly dissolving and he barely thought of either of the wounds anymore. Up until a couple of days ago, they had been an aggravation. He'd finally quit bandaging either of them with the large rectangular pads, only wearing the softest of shirts to alleviate the chafing.

  Lindy's sweet scent cloaked his senses, filling him with memories of the first time he'd stood close enough to her to put a name to her essence, there in Silverman's Deli. Now, he held his world in his hands.

  He'd missed her. The last two weeks had been hectic—her preparing for a wedding, him getting this house in shape for the honeymoon. Suddenly, he doubted his choice of a "surprise." But there wasn't a lot of time or money to spare for an exotic trip somewhere, not with so many other things bearing down on them with breakneck speed. Maybe being so utterly alone at a house in the country wasn't as appealing to her as he'd imagined. Maybe she'd have preferred going somewhere else.

  Jesse held her close, unrushed, unhurried, letting his heart fill with the love she brought him merely with her presence. Even if she never told him with words again, he would know she loved him—just by the way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the feeling she gave him just by being near.

  Her hands tentatively went inside his shirt around his waist. He smiled, knowing her thoughts. "You aren't gonna hurt me."

  "Mmm." She didn't try to look at him, content to be enfolded close in his arms. "Then why are you wearing your shirt unbuttoned?"

  His grin widened over the top of her head. He loved the feel of her fingers on his skin. "Makes it easier to take off."

  She looked up at him then, her eyes serious. "Are you sure you're all right? Because, we can wait, if—"

  He shook his head, putting a finger to her lips. "No. No more waiting, Lindy. These past three weeks have been hell. If it'd been up to me, I'd've married you in the hospital."

  She grinned at that, and he went on. "I'm fine." He bent to put his lips to hers, his pulse quickening at her ready response. He moved his hands to mold her to him, knowing she could feel his arousal through the button fly Levis he wore. He needed her and made no secret of it, his palm cupping her rounded bottom, holding her even closer as he splayed his legs.

  As his tongue touched hers, he realized she was leaning into him of her own volition. Her right hand left his bare waist and entwined in his hair. The heel of her palm skimmed his cheek, as if making certain the bruising was all but gone, the once-torn flesh over the bon
e healed.

  Her teeth closed gently on his lower lip, and he groaned softly, taking a step, backing her up to the queen bed.

  She gazed into his eyes. "This'll be a first for us…making love with no clothes…completely alone."

  "Yeah," he sighed, feeling her fingers at his belt buckle. "I was…worried about that."

  "Being alone with me? I'm not dangerous, I promise." Lindy opened the first button of his jeans and felt him tense.

  "Oh, I think you are very dangerous, Lindy." His voice was low and rough.

  Lindy glanced down and smiled. She began to slowly work on the second button, one hand dipping inside the opening made by freeing the first button.

  Jesse's breath caught, and he said, "I'm not afraid to be alone with you…" He kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes in frustration.

  A zipper. His soul for a zipper…

  He managed to keep his voice steady. "I was thinking maybe I made a mistake bringing you out here to the middle of nowhere for a honeymoon. Girl like you might like something a little…nicer." His voice trailed off, and Lindy's breath caught.

  She shook her head slightly, her eyes holding his. "Jesse…"

  His lips brushed hers lightly, like the first kiss he'd ever given her, then hovered, nearly touching them again. "You say my name like you're saying 'I love you'." He put his tongue out, tasting her, tracing the curve of her lower lip.

  Lindy moaned, her fingers clutching his shoulders.

  "I love you, too, Lindy."

  "I know," she breathed, finally daring to open her eyes. "You didn't make a mistake, darling. This place is perfect." She looked across the room at the cheery fire, at the champagne chilling on one of the nightstands, then back into his searching gaze again. "I mean it, Jesse. It is what I would have picked…if I'd known about it."

  A faint smile touched her lips. He brushed her hair back, his fingers lingering on her cheek. He gave her a teasing wink in the dim evening light. "Hey, I think you were on button number three."

  "I think we need to get you some different jeans."