by Craig, Susan
She kept Tyler on a pretty loose rein out here in the countryside. Under the present circumstances that would have to change, and she knew he wouldn’t like it. He would need some kind of explanation that would keep him in line without worrying him unduly. If Jim insisted on staying around tonight, there would have to be an explanation for that too. Angry as she was with Jim, she didn’t really want to be alone at night, here with Tyler. She felt safe in Jim’s arms, and she needed that badly right now. Her mind started circling again. What was she going to tell Tyler, and how?
When she would tell him was clear. It had to be tonight.
The sound of the microwave oven pulled Sally’s attention back to the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thawing ground beef,” Jim answered. “I thought Tyler and I could make some spaghetti for you tonight. You look like you could use a bit of a nap before dinner. We’ll call you when it’s ready, right Tyler?”
Tyler considered the idea. “Can I push the meat around in the frying pan?”
“If you show me you know how to be careful with it.”
“Okay, good.” The two of them were staring at the door of the microwave, waiting for the beep, and ignoring Sally completely.
“You know, Tyler,” Jim continued, looking toward the boy, “I’d like to stay overnight tonight, if that’s all right with you.”
Her mouth opened in shock, but before she could draw breath to speak, Tyler answered. “Are you going to sleep with my Mom?” Tyler was giving Jim a shuttered look that was entirely too adult.
I will kill the man. I swear, I’ll kill him.
Jim didn’t even blink. “Your mom and I aren’t married, Tyler. Could I use your bed? Would you mind sleeping on the floor and sharing your room?”
Tyler’s face cleared. “Like a campout! I can use my sleeping bag and we can tell scary stories and I’ll get out my flashlight.”
Sally’s knees felt weak with relief.
Jim smiled at the boy. “Sounds good to me, but not the scary stories. You have school tomorrow, so we can’t stay up late.”
“But…”
Moms recover quickly from all sorts of shocks. “Tyler,” Sally said in a warning voice. “If you want Dr. Donovan to stay, you’d better go get out your sleeping bag and find that flashlight.”
Tyler knew that voice. He sped down the hall and, judging by the noise, began to empty his closet.
Sally planted herself in front of Jim. Keeping her voice low took every ounce of control she had. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I told you I was staying here till this stalker business is over.” Jim looked imperturbable. “But I’m not going to sleep on your couch every night and go skulking off to the shelter each morning before Tyler wakes up.”
Sally had taken a few kickboxing classes for exercise, and was visualizing planting her heel in his abs. Intense satisfaction radiated from heel to brain.
“Besides, my house is getting fumigated tomorrow,” Jim continued.
“What?”
“I’ve been meaning to get it done for a while. Tomorrow seemed a good day. May I bring in my suitcase now? It’s in the truck bed.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Sally snapped—not only verbally, but completely. “Just take over my life!” His broad grin showcased the dimple on his left cheek, but that only infuriated her further. “Don’t you smile at me. I need a nap, remember? You can call me when dinner’s ready.” She all but stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door. She threw herself on the bed, wrapped her arms around a pillow, and snapped her eyes shut, frowning. She would kill the man. She would tear him limb from sorry limb. She would kick the living daylights out of him. A blissful haze of mayhem rose to mind, all directed against the broad-shouldered man who was trying to hijack her life.
Oddly enough, imagining violence against Jim relaxed her. She had been on edge all day long, wondering how she would handle tonight, thinking about what had happened between her and Jim last night and this morning, and trying to forget the way she’d watched Daniel Smith walk down the hall. Plus, there’d been all the what-to-tell, how-to-tell Tyler stress. Jim Donovan had taken half the decisions she’d been fretting over out of her hands. And she felt safe, the unease she had tried to deny all day long was blessedly gone. Lying on her side atop the bed with her pillow scrunched up, plotting revenge on Jim for taking so much on himself… she fell asleep.
She drifted into a dream and became aware of Jim, there beside her on the bed. His hand was behind her head and he was kissing her, like he had the night before, only now his tongue swept past her parted lips, tasting and stroking as her mouth surrendered to his possession. She gave herself up to the desire that raced through her, melting her bones, and vaporizing her clothing? She suddenly realized she was naked in his arms. As her hands swept over his hard chest she realized with a thrill that he was naked too. She felt his hot hand slide up her ribcage toward her breast as she moaned in ecstasy and need…
The knock on her bedroom door penetrated her brain and woke her. She felt flushed and achy and frustrated.
“Sally? Dinner.” It was Jim’s voice. Blast the man, it was his fault she was dreaming about sex, and then he didn’t even have the courtesy to let her finish. The fog in her brain lifted and she sat up like a shot. “I’m coming,” she said. Not this time, Johnston. Not this time.
Good grief. What if Jim had sent Tyler to get her—her son would have barged right in and found her moaning. Heat washed over her followed by cold. The idea of Tyler walking in thoroughly doused her arousal. Until she got her subconscious straightened out, she had better use the lock on her door. She checked the bathroom mirror to be sure her face wasn’t red, and headed for the kitchen.
Her son waited, beaming with pride, to seat her at the table. He insisted on serving her dinner and even poured her milk. Nor was his pride misplaced. The spaghetti was excellent. As if to prove how well he’d done, Tyler ate twice his usual amount of everything—even salad. Sally was surprised her justifiable annoyance with Jim didn’t spoil the meal, but it was easy to set her anger aside, for Tyler’s benefit, while the three of them enjoyed talking and laughing together. Afterwards, Sally claimed clean-up duty and shooed the two males out to the living room. Tyler recruited Jim for help with math, then dragged out his new Mario game.
When she finished the dishes, Sally moved to the couch and sat watching the two of them sprawled on the floor, dueling with one another via remote control. Warm contentment filled her and she smiled at the picture they made. In some ways Jim was as much of a kid as Tyler. He was a wonderful friend.
But good friend or not, Jim had overstepped his bounds. Once Tyler was down for the night, she would have it out with him. As Tyler’s bedtime approached, Sally marshaled her arguments and re-gathered her indignation. Perhaps it was best if he stayed here for a few nights, but she intended to lay down some ground rules. He needed to realize she would not stand for him using Tyler to make an end run around her objections a second time. And he wouldn’t get around her by playing caveman this time, either. She almost hoped he would try kissing her again so she could set him straight on that score.
So busy was she with her thoughts, that it was a surprise when Tyler climbed into her lap to kiss her goodnight. She gave him a hug and watched him head down the hall. Then she turned to Jim, ready for a fight—but caught only the back of his head as he followed Tyler down the hall.
“Goodnight,” he tossed over his shoulder. “See you in the morning.”
She was alone.
She stifled her annoyance. Tyler was expecting a sleepover. She got a book from her bedside table and settled back on the couch. Jim had been right to head to the bedroom. When Tyler fell asleep, Jim would come back out and they would talk. Until then, she would read and relax.
Sally shook her head, scrunched her eyes, and looked at the clock. She’d fallen asleep waiting for Jim… for two hours. The coward really had gone to bed. No point in waiting longer. She g
ot up and shuffled toward her bedroom, stifling a yawn. Dealing with the vet would have to wait until morning.
Jim had to admit that Tyler’s bed, though narrow compared to his own pillow-topped king, was a darn sight more comfortable than Sally’s couch. The pale light of the waxing moon shone in through the bedroom window touching shelves piled with books and miniature cars, scattered toys that hadn’t quite made it back into the closet and the sleeping bag in which Tyler sprawled. His tousled head rested near the head end of the bed Jim occupied, and his flashlight lay close at hand.
Jim smiled at the sleeping child. They hadn’t told scary stories, but Tyler had kept up a whispered monologue for nearly an hour before he finally wound down and fell asleep. Since then, Jim had been lying awake, listening to the creaking of the house, the swish of wind in the trees, and now Sally. The door to Tyler’s room stood open, but she hadn’t come down the hall to check on her son. Jim suspected he was the reason.
He listened to the sounds of Sally getting ready for bed. She had turned off all the lights except those in her bedroom, and he could hear the shower running. He pictured her wet and warm, soapy and slick, and felt the urge to get out of bed, pull off his boxers and join her. He smiled at the thought, but gave his body orders to stand down. She’d waited in the living room a long time, and he wasn’t the least bit tired. But he had come in here with the firm intention of staying away from her until morning.
He kept seeing the look she’d given Smith. His body and his gut were in full agreement about what should be done. They wanted to settle the question. To simply walk in there, take her and make her his own. And… after her capitulation last night… body, gut and brain all knew that he could.
Which is why he didn’t trust himself to be near her alone. His brain was outnumbered on this, but he resolved not to give in. He knew if he lost control and went to her, persuading her would be easy. She wouldn’t turn him away.
Don’t think about that. It only makes it worse. He shifted restlessly on the bed and re-scrunched the pillow, wadding it between wrist and bicep as he lay on his side staring toward the unlit hallway.
If he took her, he would never be sure of her. And more than anything, he wanted to be sure of her. He wanted to know that she chose him not because she’d been too long without a man, not because he’d been there when she needed comfort and security, not because he was willing to die—or kill, he admitted—to protect her and Tyler, but because she knew him, because she trusted him, because she loved him.
Stupid, pathetic sap. But it’s the best way. It’s the right way.
Jim was honest enough with himself to admit his first attraction to Sally had been identical to what he’d seen in Smith’s eyes this afternoon. Undiluted lust. And becoming her friend had been only a step toward her bed, at first. But as he’d gotten to know her, he’d learned she was so much more than just gorgeous. He’d fallen in love so gradually, there’d been no opportunity to shy away from it. Completely clear about where his own heart was, and about where he wanted her heart to be, he wasn’t going to settle for less.
And Tyler—hell, he’d fallen in love with Tyler even faster than with Sally. The boy had been seven when they’d first met, smart, inquisitive, energetic, and yet fragile—the legacy of his father’s tragic death. Tyler wasn’t fragile anymore, and Jim liked to think that he’d had something to do with that. Even if nothing ever came of his love for Sally, Jim knew his relationship with Tyler was something he would always treasure.
The ribbon of light beneath Sally’s bedroom door winked out. Jim rolled onto his back and turned his head to stare out the window at the clear night sky. The moon was already past zenith and heading for the horizon. He had too many memories of too many nights spent watching the moon go down, waiting for the darkest darkness to fall so he and his team could begin their work. “Dark for dark business,” that’s how Tolkien’s dwarves had put it.
“Counterterrorism” was the official designation. But he and his team had created terror themselves, and had brought death. He had terrorized men and killed them—some even younger than himself.
Oh, he’d been one of the good guys, he knew that. And God knew someone had to fight the evil they had battled. But when his job was done and he’d come home, he’d set aside his former self. He’d put the soldier on the shelf, and become Jim Donovan, friendly, laid-back doctor of veterinary medicine.
Then the stalker bastard had targeted Sally, and the warrior had come roaring off his dusty ledge.
He was coming to terms with that. It had been naïve to think he could simply choose to be different and forever alter his character. It was all about integration—fancy word for a simple concept. Be who you are; be all that you are. He was integrating the warrior and the laid-back veterinarian into one whole, strong Jim Donovan. He could feel it happening, and knew it was good.
But would a woman as strong and willful as Sally love both parts of the new, whole man?
She’d better. That man was full-out in love with her and had no intention of losing her. He compressed his lips and nodded in the darkness. She was going to have to catch up, quick. His willingness to wait around for her to come around had evaporated the night he kissed her.
He looked for the moon again, but it was nowhere in sight. “Dark for dark business.” Silently he rose and dressed and slipped out the door.
chapter six
“Morning.”
With a quick intake of breath, Sally lifted her eyes from the box of cereal she’d set on the table. Jim. The man moved like a cat. How could she have known him three years without noticing that?
He leaned against the kitchen doorway, his torso bare and yesterday’s khakis hanging low on his hips. He had fresh clothes in hand. “Mind if I use your shower?”
She felt her eyes open wider to take in shoulders, arms, abs, and the spot where the rough V of hair on his chest widened again before diving into the low-slung slacks. Heat washed over her, muscles clenched, and she felt her thong shift. Dropping her eyes to the cereal bowls in her hand, she set them on the table, swallowed, and produced a neutral smile. “Go ahead. Clean towels are on the shelf in the bathroom.”
He nodded and turned, revealing a broad muscular back, and the shadow cast by hard triceps on the arm holding his clothes.
She swallowed again, wanting to cup the back of his arm in her hand.
Will you get a grip, Johnston?
Not that kind.
He opened the door to her bedroom and entered, not bothering to shut it behind him. The sound of the shower starting echoed through her brain.
Her perverse mind pictured him naked—a very male presence in her lavender and white bathroom. She saw him standing in her shower with hot water sheeting over the lean muscles, using her lilac-scented soap, rubbing it over his hair-roughened legs from ankle to thigh and then—
“Morning, Mom. Can I have peanut butter toast instead of cereal today?”
Heat shot into her face, but moms are quick. She turned toward the refrigerator. “Sure, Tyler. Peanut butter toast coming up.” Pulling a loaf of bread from the freezer, her mind’s eye saw Jim stepping out of the shower, dripping wet, smelling like a mix of sweet lilac and hot male. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth—she wanted to nuzzle her face into his neck and just breathe. She wanted to taste him, run her tongue along his collarbone and—
“Can I pour my own orange juice?”
“No, honey, the container’s too full. I’ll get it.” She poured them each a glass of juice, and drained hers in one long gulp. Her heart beat faster than it had any right to. Then she poured Tyler a glass of milk and gazed out the window in the direction of the shelter, mind lost in lust. With a squeak, the toast popped up, and she glanced down to be sure the hardening of her nipples didn’t show through her shirt.
Pull a jar from the cupboard, get out a knife, and spread the peanut butter.
Cutting the slices into triangles, the way her son liked, she arranged the pieces on
a small plate.
“That smells wonderful, can I have some too?” The deep voice was close to her ear, the heat of his body warmed her back, and—she inhaled deeply—his scent matched what she’d imagined.
Heat washed over her body once more and a sizzling tightness claimed her. “Sure. Coming right up.” Working in mom-automatic, she prepared two more pieces of toast, helped Tyler gather his backpack and jacket, kissed him goodbye, and watched while he waited for the bus to pick him up. Most of her consciousness stayed focused in the kitchen where Jim ate toast and drank coffee. She wrapped her arms around herself, still keeping her eyes on Tyler. What was happening to her? Her head shook once; clearly, she was out of control.
Come on, Johnston, behave! You can’t afford to scare off the only man around, not when there’s someone stalking you. You need Jim, and you know it, so cool it.
She watched the bus stop and saw Tyler climb on board. The bus pulled away, but still she stood there, battling this raging desire, not just desire for a man, but desire for Jim—go figure. She took her unruly emotions and mentally shoved them into a box—stuffing them down, forcing on the lid, and padlocking the box shut. At last she dropped her arms to her sides, straightened her shoulders, and returned to the kitchen, clear-eyed.
Jim was rising from the table as she entered the room. He picked up his plate and Tyler’s along with the glasses from the table and put them all in the dishwasher. “It’s almost time for me to get to work, Sal.” He poured himself one last mug of coffee, and leaned against the counter looking at her.