U.S. Marshals: Chased (U.S. Marshals Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  While he settled on his side of the bed, bunching the pillows behind him, she stuck out her tongue.

  He sighed. “Remind me to let my sister have it next time we see her.”

  “She was only trying to help.”

  “By getting you sloshed?”

  Allie rolled her eyes. “I would hardly call a few glasses of wine sloshed. I’m just not used to drinking, that’s all.”

  “I know.” He cupped his hand to her sick belly. “I’m just messing with you. Wouldn’t have even mattered if you were awake. Remember? How my job kind of makes you off-limits? I shouldn’t even kiss you, let alone want to do way more.”

  He tried lifting his hand, but she put hers on top of his.

  “Stay.” She swallowed hard. “One of the things your sister and I talked about was me being more open. Not only with myself, but you.”

  “Oh?”

  Half laughing and shaking her head, she said, “I’ve made such a mess of things.”

  “I’d say we both have.”

  Hand still over his, she said, “Right here—now—let’s start fresh.”

  “Nothing would make me happier.”

  Leaning close, she kissed him. Softly, sweetly, as if maybe it were for the first time all over again.

  “When I was pregnant,” she said, her cheek against his, her body against his, her soul too close to his for anything but truth, “I missed you so bad. I lost count of the number of times I almost called you. I used to fall asleep cupping my hands to our baby, wishing they were your hands. Praying they were your hands.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Geez, Al, all it would’ve taken was one call. Hell, I tried finding you, but your mother told me you didn’t want to be found.”

  “I know,” she said. “I was so young. Proud. Stupid.”

  “And now?” he asked, almost afraid to.

  “Now, I’d like a second chance. I’m begging for a second chance. But I can’t just marry you in a quickie wedding. It’s been so long, Caleb. I need to know these feelings between us are real. Yes, Cal needs a father. And I would never again in a million, trillion years deny you, or your family, another moment with him. In fact, if for some reason you should decide marriage isn’t in the cards for us, I would explore finding a bench closer to Portland so that you and Cal could be together.”

  “You’d do that?” he asked. “For me?”

  She nodded. “Considering the years I took from the two of you—yes. It’s the least I can do to make amends.”

  Caleb released a gush of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. What could’ve caused this sudden turnaround in Allie’s stand on their relationship—or lack thereof? “What exactly did my sister say to you last night?”

  Lips curving into a brilliant smile, Allie said, “It wasn’t so much what Gillian said to me, but what she showed me. We looked through photo albums of your family. In them there were so many wonderful shots of Gillian and Joe and the life they share. But there were also a lot of you playing with your nieces. Of all of you hamming it up on family ski trips and sitting around the table at Thanksgiving and Christmas. There were even a few shots of Milo as a puppy. Those photo memories made me see how much Cal and I are missing by not being part of all that. And not just us, but my mom, too. It’s been only the three of us for as long as I can remember. Sitting around her big empty dining room table at holidays. Only having a roasting hen because there aren’t enough of us to justify a whole turkey or ham.”

  Caleb pulled her in for a hug. He rolled onto his back, lifting her on top of him, sliding his fingers deep into her hair.

  They’d both missed so much—but no more. Starting today, this second, neither of them was ever going to miss out on anything again.

  At school on Monday, Cal couldn’t stop smiling. While Milo napped on the floor beside his desk, Cal thought how this had been the best Halloween ever. He loved his new uncles and grandfather and aunt and cousins, and man, if he could have any wish in the world, it’d be to live with all of his new, big family forever.

  But back at Max’s house after the party, he’d texted Clara, and she said that unless his mom and dad got married, he wouldn’t ever get to see his new family ’cept for sometimes on weekends and during summer vacation. Well, that just wasn’t enough. Which was why he was now hungry—because he’d had to pay Clara his lunch money for her to tell him how to get his mom and dad married.

  “Want my cookie?” Max asked.

  “You sure you don’t want it?” Cal asked.

  “Nah. Reider gave me his ’cause he’s allergic to raisins.”

  “Oh. Then, yeah. Thanks. Got any paper?”

  “Uh-uh,” Max said. “It’s all in my desk. Why do you need it?”

  “I gotta meet Clara at recess. She made me pay her my lunch money to tell me how to get Mom and Dad married.”

  “Man,” Max said. “For that much money, she should hafta write it down for you.”

  On the bench, presiding over the jury selection for an armed drugstore robbery, Allie tried focusing, but it was tough getting past pangs of wanting to hurry up and finish with work so she could get home to see Caleb, who was spending the afternoon with Cal at his school.

  It’d only been a day since they’d shared that precious Saturday morning at the inn, but already she was eager to explore more of their burgeoning romance.

  “Thanks, guys,” she said to her security team once she’d finally adjourned for the day. All had been calm since the end of Francis’s trial, so she didn’t really see why their presence was even necessary, but if it kept Caleb close to her, she wasn’t about to complain.

  “Sure. No biggee,” Adam said, glancing over his shoulder, then muttering something into his radio microphone.

  “Nice job,” Kent, one of the more stone-faced marshals, said in the hall. He wasn’t a very talkative guy, so from him, Allie took this as high praise. Although odd, considering the afternoon’s monotonous work.

  “All’s clear,” Adam said. “Let’s rock and roll.”

  “After you…” Kent opened Allie’s office door only to step back and let her go in first, instead of entering, checking that the coast was clear, then letting her in. She was still pondering the change in tradition when she opened her mouth, then put her hand over it to contain the unjudge-like whoop of glee that would’ve escaped.

  Standing in the center of a jumble of tarp-covered furniture were two very green marshals, holding green paintbrushes. Her formerly tobacco-stained walls were now a vibrant shade of jungle-green.

  “Taa-daa!” Caleb said. “This better?”

  “Better?” she squealed, running to him for a hug—not caring if in the process he got green paint on her solemn black robe. “It’s awesome! Thank you!” She pulled back. “But I thought you were on duty and spent the day with Cal at school?”

  He grinned. “With your observational skills, it’s a good thing I’m the protector and you’re the protectee. Relax. According to the last report, our son is out of class for the day and seated at the kitchen table doing homework.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m gonna go clean up,” Bear said. “And for the record, I’m all paid up on returned favors.”

  Before the huge, sweet lug of a marshal got away, Allie squeezed him in a heartfelt hug as well. “Thanks. I love it.”

  “Sure,” Bear said, hugging her back.

  “And I also love the spot of green on your head,” she teased. “Might be a whole new fashion statement for you.”

  He growled.

  “I’ll be outside if you need me,” Adam said. “Kent wants me to introduce him to that hottie in the front office.”

  “Go for it, man,” Caleb said. “She’s a looker.”

  “Hey,” Allie swatted his arm. “Watch it. I’ll hold you in contempt.”

  “Mmm…” He tugged her back against him. “Being locked in a cell with you doesn’t sound all that bad.”

  That earned him another swat.
“Seriously, Caleb, this goes beyond sweet. I can’t believe you even remembered me telling you how uninspiring this office was, let alone that you took it upon yourself to paint it for me. How can I thank you?”

  “Tough question…” He scratched his head. “I would ask for a kiss, but…”

  But she was already on her tiptoes, kissing him, molding her lips to his, parting them with her tongue. He tilted his head and groaned, inviting her farther in.

  He backed up, taking her along with him, eventually landing them against a tarp-covered table. Unfortunately, under their weight, it skidded out from under them.

  Allie shrieked as they went down, but Caleb was there, cushioning her fall.

  The door burst open. Adam blurted, “You all right?”

  Allie, straddling Caleb, felt her face turning a hundred shades of red.

  “We’re, ah, good,” Caleb said. “Thanks.”

  “You’d better be damned glad your boyfriend’s my brother,” Adam said with a huge grin, at the same time wagging his index finger. “Otherwise I’d report you for mugging a marshal.” Just as abruptly as he’d entered, he left.

  “Ugh.” Allie dropped her chin on Caleb’s chest. “That couldn’t have been any more humiliating.”

  Sliding his hand from the small of her back down to her rear end, he said, “You saying you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “Seen riding you in my office—yeah. I find that a little humbling, considering the rather public state of my career.”

  “You can count on Adam to keep your dirty little secret.”

  “My dirty secret?” she said, laughing and pummeling his chest. “What about you? You started this.”

  “Um, for the record…” He cleared his throat. “I was innocently painting your office, when you virtually threw yourself at me. I was only trying to fend you off when—”

  Before any additional verbal bologna spilled past his gorgeous lips, she kissed them good and hard. And just in case he got any big ideas about starting back up with his teasing, she kissed him again softly. Melting against him until he was rolling them over, putting himself on top. Judging by the all-male pulsing bulge against her midsection, there was no question that he wouldn’t have had a problem taking things still further. At least until he pushed himself up and off of her, swiping his fingers through his hair.

  “Damn,” he said. “You don’t kiss anyone else like that, do you?”

  “What if I did?” she asked with a sassy smile.

  He smiled back—sort of. Only she couldn’t tell if it was a “ha-ha” smile, or maybe, a “just a little bit serious” smile. “If you did,” he said, “no question about it, the guy kissing you back would have to be taught a lesson in trespassing on my personal property.”

  “Come on, come on…” Allie’s son dragged her by her hand through the open back door and into the house. Caleb strode behind her. “Geez, what took you guys so long?”

  Milo barked and wagged his tail.

  Feeling a blush rise, once they all stood inside, Allie turned to Caleb. “How about you tell Cal what took so long.”

  “Well, bud, it was like this…” Caleb took a seat on one of the counter stools. “Me and Bear painted your mom’s office, but—”

  “Cool! What color?”

  “Green, but—”

  “Okay, come see what I made for you guys. You’re going on a date.”

  A date?

  Not that Allie wouldn’t enjoy doing just that, but since when did Cal even know the word date, let alone what a couple was supposed to do on one?

  This time, Cal dragged Caleb along after him toward the dining room.

  “Taa-daa!” their little boy said. “You like it?”

  The dining room table had been set with the paint-stained plastic cloth she and Cal used for crafts. On top of that sat mismatched place settings of her grandmother’s white china plates and the heavier, everyday cobalt blue saucers, bowls and mugs. Filling all the dishes was an assortment of clumped macaroni and cheese that looked like it hadn’t been cooked—probably an accurate assumption since Cal wasn’t yet allowed to use the stove. Then there was applesauce and sliced apples. Cookies and peanut butter sandwiches. Chocolate milk in the mugs, and what looked like turquoise Kool-Aid in the martini glasses she’d purchased for a holiday office party and hadn’t used since. In the center of the table sat her best crystal vase—another gift from her grandmother. Filling the vase was water and a burgundy plastic poinsettia left over from the previous year’s Christmas.

  “This is amazing, man.” Caleb whistled, patting his son’s back. “Other than our date, what’s the occasion? Is it my birthday and I forgot?”

  “No,” Cal said with a giggle. “At least I don’t think so.”

  “But it could be?” Caleb asked.

  “No, it couldn’t,” Allie said, pulling her son over for a hug.

  “How do you know?” Cal asked.

  “Because I happen to know for a fact your father’s birthday is in March.”

  “Sorry,” Cal said, his expression highly serious. “Want me to write it down for you so you don’t forget?”

  “Thanks,” Caleb said. “That’d be great.”

  “Okay, but first, you guys have to sit.”

  “What about you?” Allie asked while her suspiciously well-mannered son pulled out her chair.

  “I already ate,” he said, heading around the table to pull out his father’s chair as well. “You guys go ahead. Oh, and since I’m not allowed to play with matches, here.” He handed her the big pack of wooden kitchen matches. “You can light the candles.”

  “Thank you.” She solemnly took them from him.

  “You’re welcome. Bye. Have fun!”

  “But, what’re you—” Too late, judging by the clomps up the stairs—he and Milo were already heading for his room. A few seconds after that, faint tinny pop music pulsed through the dining room ceiling.

  “Is it just me?” she asked, putting her crumpled red napkin—also left over from last Christmas—on her lap. “Or is this whole setup a little suspicious?”

  “You think?” Caleb sampled the applesauce.

  “Who do you think put him up to this?”

  “If I had to guess,” he said after guzzling his chocolate milk, “this plot reeks of Clara.”

  “Wow, guys,” Allie said a few days later in her home’s detached garage. “This is like the rooster Taj Mahal.”

  Cal grinned with pride, pounding a nail into the coop’s shingles.

  Milo sat beside him, eyes drifting shut as if he struggled to stay awake.

  Caleb said, “A couple of off duty guys chipped in to help fence a back corner of the yard. So once we get this done, we should be good to go.”

  “Will you take me to see it?” Allie asked her security team.

  Caleb glanced toward the garage windows. They were covered in brown paper. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather keep you both inside.”

  “But why?” she asked. “You said yourself that most likely Cal and I are out of danger.”

  He shrugged.

  While Cal was busy pounding another nail, Allie gestured for Caleb to join her alongside the tool bench.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “You tell me. Is there something going on I should know about?”

  He looked away.

  “Caleb?”

  “Look,” he took her hand, brushing her palm with his thumb, in the process sending unexpected pleasure deep into her belly. “There’s nothing concrete. Just a gut feeling that we’re in the eye of the storm.”

  She took his free hand, gave him a squeeze. “I appreciate that you care, but really, my gut feeling is that we’re fine.”

  Sighing, he pulled her into his arms.

  “What?” she asked against his chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of women’s intuition?”

  “Have I told you lately you make me crazy?”

  “Hmm…” She put her finger to her lips. “No
t that I remember, but I’ve been awfully busy. I suppose I might’ve forgotten any specific statement alluding to that intent.”

  “Mom?” Cal asked. “Since you and Dad are hugging and laughing and stuff, does that mean you’re getting married? ’Cause my friend Clara said that’s what you have to do.”

  Allie made the mistake of looking up at Caleb to see the smile lighting his eyes. It said, Hey, I answered the ‘Why We Were Late Coming Home from the Courthouse’ question. This one’s all yours.

  “Is that what you want?” Allie asked. “For your father and I to get married?”

  He jiggled the nails in his right hand. “I dunno.”

  “Well, I kind of think judging by the fancy meal you fixed the other night, then by your question now, this is at least a subject you’ve thought about.”

  Looking at his father, Cal whined, “Can we get back to building? All this talking about girl stuff is boring.”

  Allie bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  Milo had stretched out on a drop cloth and softly snored.

  “Sure, bud,” Caleb said. “Is your mom allowed to stay, or is hammering too manly for her?”

  “Well…” Cal took a good, long while to ponder the question. “I suppose if she doesn’t tell us to be careful and stuff it’d be all right if she stays.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Allie cast them both a pouty grin. “I can tell I’m loved.”

  “We love you, Mom. We just don’t need you getting in the way of construction.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said with a broad wink. “We can’t have you getting in the way.”

  Allie took a folding chair from its canvas storage bag, then set up camp at what she hoped was a safe distance from all the manly banging. She didn’t think she could ever be a safe distance from Caleb’s broad shoulders, or the honed muscles of his forearms and biceps, showcased as he wielded his hammer. Maybe even more disconcerting was the sight of him curved around their son, helping him position a shingle, or yank out a crooked nail.

  We love you, Mom.

  She knew her son loved her, but what about Caleb?