LOVE in a Small Town

by Janet Eaves

  “Yeah, well. You’re a big girl.” Patti chattered on. “You know I’ve been telling you a man would do you a world of good. You take my advice, if you haven’t already. And don’t come back here telling me there are no juicy details. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Michael twisted her around to face him, locking their gazes. His hands splayed across her tummy. The sheet, now out of the way, lay draped in a white puddle on the floor. “Okay, Patti, whatever you say. But don’t count on anything.”

  He eased her legs apart, opening her body. He lay his head in her lap.

  Kate groaned. Had to get off the phone.

  “Got to go. Call you later.”

  “What? What’s happening?”

  The phone slipped out of her hand to the floor. Michael gently raised one of her legs, propping it over his shoulder. He sucked on her inner thigh. Giving in, letting him take her fully, she closed her eyes and lay back on the bed…easing forward to Michael’s waiting mouth. She shuddered and moaned, clutching his head and shoulders, as she rode the waves of pleasure he gave her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The storm had settled the gravel dust in the lane, so Michael saw nothing after she left. All he heard was the crunch of her SUV’s tires in the drive. With her truck out of sight, there was no physical evidence that she had ever been there—no lingering dust clouds, no hint of her perfume on his clothes, only the strong ache he felt in his gut.

  His heart full from a morning of making love, he fought off a deep sense of dread, a panicked shaft of uncertainty that encompassed him. It hit like a blast of icy wind the second she left.

  His chest heaved, then he turned and walked into the house. Somehow he expected more. He had asked her to marry him and she accepted. They’d made love and he knew right then, he didn’t want to be without her one more night.

  She left him with a kiss, an embrace, and a promise of hot nights to come, but already the chill had set in.

  How would he pull this off? How in the world, would he get through the investigation, and find out once and for all if Carpenter had indeed faked his death? How would he get the bastard behind bars—without losing Kate in the process?

  He noticed blanket heaped on the entryway floor, the one she had used to wrap up in on their way to his house. He crouched and scooped the damp bundle up into his hands, and held the blanket close to his face. Her scent lingered.

  It happened. It wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. He had made delicious love to her incredibly sexy body all night long. Waves of panic pulled at him.

  He’d given in. Made love to her.

  Asked her to marry him.

  Set her up for more heartbreak.

  He’d even promised not to die. He would try his damnedest to keep that promise. She had no idea, however, of the secrets he was harboring and if she found out before it was time, he’d probably wish he was dead.

  Because he didn’t know if he could stand to see her so hurt.

  He dropped the blanket, stood, and raked his fingers through his hair.

  “My God, what have I done?”

  The feelings he had for Kate were stronger than any he’d ever felt. And his job was to implicate her part in helping Rob Carpenter fake his death, in an attempt to save his ass from going to prison after smuggling dope.

  He paced the living room, then stopped at the fireplace and stared at his reflection in the mantel mirror, peering deep into his own eyes. His chest rose and fell, then again, and his nostrils flared as he took in huge breaths of air. The oxygen cleared the fuzz from his brain, somewhat, and now, he knew what he had to do.

  Kate was his. He wouldn’t give her up.

  She played no part in Rob Carpenter’s schemes. He knew it, just had no concrete proof. There was no need to keep on with this charade.

  His decision made, he moved to his bedroom to shower and dress, and head into the field office in Knoxville.

  His sacrifice would be a small price to pay to have Kate in his arms. Forever. The task that stood before him this afternoon, however, would be the easy part.

  Telling Kate the truth about Rob and the investigation would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do in his life.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Jenkins, sir, may I have a word?”

  The door to his superior’s office stood slightly ajar. Michael rapped on it twice before stepping partially through the opening.

  “Lehmann, where in the hell have you been?”

  “That’s what I need to talk to you about, sir.”

  “What’s going on with this kid? What does he have to do with the Carpenter case?” His irritated glare shot across the huge oak desk.

  “Danny Jackson is a student of Kate Carpenter’s. She’s quite attached to him. Actually, I’m fond of him myself. He has no family.”

  “And…”

  “Well sir, he ran away. Kate was upset so I helped her search for him.”

  “Did you find him?”

  “No.”

  “And because of this wild goose chase you’ve avoided reporting in today?”

  “Not exactly.”

  His voice rose. “Then what in hell did?”

  Michael stood his ground. “I, uh, sir… I have asked Kate Carpenter to marry me.”

  The silence in the room shouted louder than anything Michael had heard before. Jenkins stood slowly. The papers in his hands slapped down across the desk.

  “You did what!”

  Michael had not moved a muscle since entering the office. His hands clasped behind him, steadying his body. The force of Jenkins’ words were about to be known.

  “What kind of goddamned scheme is that, Lehman. Where’s your brain, man? You’re smack in the middle of an investigation and you decide to ask the object of that investigation to marry you?” He rose and turned away. “What the fuck has gotten into you? I told you to check your goddamn emotions. What’s wrong with just sleeping with her?”

  “I’ve fallen in love with her, sir.”

  “But she’s married!”

  Michael never thought of things in quite those terms. “For all practical purposes, sir, she’s not. Her husband is dead.”

  “Her husband is walking around out there somewhere cutting drug deals right under our noses. Her husband, or one of his cohorts, took an innocent man and blew his head off so his casket would have a body. Not to mention setting his body afire and burning him beyond all recognition. Her husband, is a dangerous, psychotic man—and he is alive.”

  Michael took a deep breath. “Sir, in the eyes of the law, Rob Carpenter is dead. There was a funeral and a death certificate. I believe in the eyes of Kate Carpenter, he is also dead. She cannot be held responsible for something that is beyond her control.”

  “But you know he is alive.”

  “And she knows nothing. She is innocent of this. I am convinced. That puts her out of the picture and this investigation.”

  “You really think she’s unaware.”

  “She doesn’t know anything.”

  Jenkins rubbed his stubbled beard with the palm of his hand. “This still doesn’t change the fact, however, that you acted irresponsibly.”

  That’s a pot calling the kettle black. “Yes sir.”

  Jenkins hung his head, shaking it from side to side. He closed his eyes momentarily and let out a slow, easy breath. As his heavy eyelids lifted, he looked Michael square in the eye. His voice quieted. “You’re usually so levelheaded.”

  “I still am, sir.”

  “You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, convinced she is not involved? We still do not know the identity of that female caller the night of his death.”

  “No, sir. I have been with her and tailing her for the past month. There is absolutely nothing on her. She believes he is dead.”

  Jenkins sat back down behind his desk. “All right. It’s your investigation so I’ll buy that. What about Carpenter?”

  “No contact. My informants aren’t talking either. I think he’
s holed up somewhere watching and waiting.”

  “Keep on. There’s got to be more.”

  “Sir, that’s why I came by today. I want to be dismissed from the case.”

  Jenkins sat back in his desk chair with a tired thud. “No way.”

  “But sir, I don’t want Kate to be a target. It’s a sticky situation. When she finds out about the investigation, she might not be…”

  “Understanding of your involvement? Sorry, Lehmann, that’s your problem…and so is this case. You’re on it to stay. At least until I say otherwise. I don’t have time or the manpower to get someone else involved. We’re close to a break. Possibly this engagement will work for us.” He pondered that for a moment, peering off behind Michael. “Perhaps it will flush Carpenter out.”

  Using Kate and their engagement as bait to get to Rob Carpenter didn’t sit well with him. In fact, it wasn’t even an option.

  “Sir, I don’t want her involved.”

  Jenkins cocked a brow. “She must be either good in bed or you’re really in love with her.”

  Michael flushed.

  “Never mind. Find Carpenter. I don’t care what happens between you and the woman. Just make sure she’s not a decoy to get to you. Watch your back. And I expect to hear from you soon. Get this thing over with.”

  Michael watched as he sat and returned to his paperwork, dismissing him. He quietly turned and left.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kate turned over slowly and pried open one eye. Just as she glanced to the clock radio, indicating she had slept nearly four hours, she heard the pounding on her back door downstairs.

  Someone’s here.

  Gathering her faculties about her, she sat upright. Her eyelids were sticky-shut; her mouth full of cotton. Bleh. Glancing about the room, she realized she was home. Was it a dream? No. She had made wonderful and delicious love to Michael—and he had asked her to marry him.

  The pounding continued.

  “Kate! You home?”

  Michael. She made her way down the back stairs, then jogged to the door.

  “You were asleep. I’m sorry.”

  She could only nod.

  God he looks lovely. He’d showered and put on fresh clothes. She wore an old t-shirt and sweatpants and hadn’t touched her hair all day.

  Michael stepped inside and enfolded her into his arms. He laid a peck on her forehead. “I hope you don’t mind my coming. I know it’s only been a few hours, but I missed you.”

  She smiled sleepily, touching her fingertips to his cheek.

  “Go back to bed,” he whispered. “Then when you get up take a long, hot shower. You’ll feel much better.”

  “No, really, I’m fine,” she yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I couldn’t.”

  “I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll be waiting. Maybe I’ll even fix dinner for you.”

  Again, she could only stare, grateful.

  “Now go on up there and sleep. I’ll be fine.”

  Kate searched his face. “Michael, is there any news?”

  Sighing, he shook his head. “I wish I could tell you yes, but I can’t. I checked in with Matt and called Polly at the sheriff’s office. An alert has been issued just in case and the highway patrol is on the lookout. But nothing. Not one single lead.”

  “I think I knew you were going to say that. What do we do now?”

  “Wait. At least until tomorrow. Right now, I want you to get some more sleep.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him. Michael’s body enveloped her as he lowered his chin to the top of her head and held her tight for several minutes. Their bodies swayed to a silent melody of contentment.

  An hour or so later she woke to the smell of garlic, oregano, and basil. The pungent spices permeated her sensitive nose. Her stomach growled relentlessly as she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. She was ravenous.

  Quickly, the covers were tossed aside and she headed for the shower.

  Downstairs, Michael heard the pipes creaking in the walls and knew Kate was in the shower. Smiling, he looked toward the ceiling, imagining her curvy body, shiny-slick with water and soap, and had a sudden urge to join her. Memories of their earlier lovemaking returned. He felt a hot surge in his loins and fought hard to keep under control.

  He searched for placemats and silverware. He found earthen-ware plates in the cupboard, and the pint canning jars she used for glasses next to them. He perused the room for a centerpiece, finally deciding on a basket of dried flowers placed atop an old pie-safe.

  “What smells so good?” Kate asked as she eased her way down the back stairs. She wore jeans and a light green sweater, her hands fluffed at the locks of her thick, towel-dried hair.

  Michael remembered getting his fingers tangled in those same locks. “Oh, just a little something I whipped up. Are you hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “Like Italian?”

  “My favorite.” Her eyes kept in constant contact with his until he turned to the oven, taking out a beautiful lasagna. “Um,” she said as she inched closer. “Trooper, farmer, incredible lover, and cook, too?”

  Michael grinned. “Well, now that you mention it…”

  “I know, your mother taught you how to make a mean lasagna.”

  “Something like that. There’s a salad in the refrigerator and garlic bread wrapped in foil on the counter. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of raiding your pantry.”

  Kate’s breath was hot and close to his ear. “You can raid anything I’ve got,” she whispered.

  He nearly dropped the casserole dish on the counter, then carefully placed it on a trivet. Turning, he grabbed her around the waist. His lips caressed hers and made a trail down her neck.

  “I missed you.”

  “Me too.”

  He brushed back an errant strand of hair from her face, peering deep into pools of green. There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much he wanted to do to her, with her. So much to give.

  He prayed for the chance.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “Lasagna?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Kate skimmed her hands underneath the bottom edge of his shirt, her fingertips warm against his abdomen. Her gaze met his, penetrating and intoxicating. He inched his hands under her sweater and tugged at her nipples through wispy lace.

  His mouth found hers and with wet, powerful kisses, he forgot all about dinner.

  Her knees buckled and they tumbled to the plank kitchen floor—grasping, pulling, tugging at clothing—making way for hands and flesh and lips to meet and mesh and meld. Their bodies fused, panting, hurdling themselves into another time, another place, and then exploding into a passion that neither of them had ever before experienced.

  And then they lay—spent, exhausted, full of each other.

  “I almost forgot,” Michael said after a moment.

  “What?” She couldn’t imagine that he’d forgotten anything, since she was fully sated.

  Reaching for his jeans, he pulled out a small black velvet box and said, “I was going to do this over dinner but I can’t wait. I want to make this official.”

  Tears stung her eyes as she looked at the box, then to his face, and back again. He popped open the lid and the shiniest diamond ring she’d ever seen sparkled against the black background.

  “I love you, Kate Carpenter. Marry me?”

  Through tears, she choked out a “Yes” and he slipped that diamond ring right on her finger.

  ****

  Kate ate heartily, as if she’d been fed only bread and water for weeks. With Michael beside her, everything tasted new and different. Her senses were suddenly alive, vibrant, and blossoming. In a sense, she had denied herself everything but the necessities these last two years, in food, companionship, and love. She had been subsisting only on the bread and water of life. It was time for the addition of a little spi
ce.

  She pushed back from the table and groaned. “I think I’ve made a pig of myself. I don’t know when I’ve been so hungry!”

  He captured her hand in his. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so full.”

  “Of lasagna?”

  “No… Not exactly.”

  Michael tightened the grip on her hand and pulled her closer until she sat on his lap. “Kate…”

  The land line phone on the wall echoed throughout the spacious kitchen. She glanced at it then back to Michael. “Yes?”

  “Better answer it. Could be news.”

  She picked it up on the fourth ring. As she said hello, a frigid chill shook her as the voice on the other end snarled. “Get rid of him, Kate. I told you that before. He’s there. Get rid of him now. Or I will.” Her skin turned to gooseflesh and her bones froze. The same gravelly voice. The same warning.

  She didn’t utter a word. The receiver slid out of her hand and bounced on the wood floor. She barely heard Michael calling to her through the chilblain silence that engulfed her.

  “Kate?” Michael didn’t need his gut to tell him that something was wrong. Kate turned slowly, like she might crack if she moved too fast. He watched as her face broke into a thousand pieces. Tears fell, her hands reached for him, and her once rigid body became languid as she gasped, then sobbed.

  It was a moment before she calmed down enough for him to make sense of what she was saying. The words poured out in incoherent fragments, amidst sniffles and groans and periods of silence. Finally, he understood.

  He held her tight, leaning against the kitchen wall, rocking and reassuring her of their safety.

  “How long has this been going on?” he asked. The sniffling stopped and only intermittent whimpers escaped her lips. “How many times?”

  She stared blankly ahead. “The first time was the night after I spent the day at your farm… and then, well, I don’t exactly remember the others. There was another Saturday afternoon, when you were here.”

  “Is it always the same voice?”

  She nodded.

  “…and the same words?”

  She looked him square in the face. “Not this time. He knew you were here.” Kate gulped down a huge gasp of air. “My God, Michael, someone’s watching us.” Terror raced across her face.