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

by Laura Marie Altom

  From all that he’d shared about what he’d been feeling the last time they’d seen each other, she feared her mistake of ever leaving him was more in the realm of tragedy. That maybe—no, almost certainly—Caleb had loved her. Would’ve married her. If only she’d stayed around long enough for him to ask.

  But then really, what good would that have done?

  Sure, they’d have been married, raising Cal together, but ultimately, marriage wouldn’t have kept Caleb from entering the marshal’s service.

  Cal erupted in laughter.

  She looked up.

  Father and son fought an epic mini-sword fight with nails.

  Milo had woke and danced back and forth between them, tail wagging.

  Allie’s first instinct was to leap from her chair and make them stop before someone got hurt. But realistically, aside from a possible minor scratch, the worst harm that could come to her son was maybe a sore tummy from too much laughing.

  How many times in the past had she dealt with the tough single-parent issue of there not being nearly enough hours in the day for her to even do the necessities for Cal, let alone squeeze in extras like goofy play?

  But seeing him now, out of breath with laughter, was play really something extra? Or was it as vital to a child’s life as clean water and air?

  In that moment, seeing the joy on her son’s face, the full impact of what she’d done by not telling Caleb the truth about their son’s existence hit her in a crushing blow. Her chest ached from the weight of it.

  Not wanting either of her men to see her tears, she got up from her chair as quickly as possible and went to stand outside.

  Just beyond the reach of the back porch floodlight, the night was cold and dark and it was drizzling, only she didn’t care, because that’s how she felt inside.

  She’d been so concerned about protecting her son from all things that might’ve happened if Caleb got hurt, she’d missed the bigger picture. How she cherished memories of time spent with her father, as Cal would with his.

  “I thought you were in the house.” Caleb stepped outside the garage. “You should’ve waited for an escort.”

  Sniffling, she shook her head.

  “Do any of my guys even know you’re out here?”

  “Oh, Caleb, stop it with the security thing, okay? I’m fine. Cal’s fine. You caught the bad guys. We’re all fine.”

  “Are we?”

  Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to face him.

  The drizzle turned to rain.

  “I—I don’t know what you mean.”

  With the pads of his thumbs, he softly swept the tears beneath her eyes. “You’ve been crying.”

  Again, she shook her head.

  “You’re not mad about all that stupid macho crap Cal said back there?”

  “No. As usual, you were right. He probably could use a little manly influence in his life.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Like she seemed to be doing a lot lately, she threw her arms around him, hugging him like she’d never let go. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Please forgive me for keeping him from you for so long. He needs you. I’ve done a terrible job. He shouldn’t know how to knit. My mother and I have turned him into some freak of nature.”

  “No, no,” Caleb said, easing his hand beneath her sweater’s hem, then smoothing his strong, warm fingers up and down her back. “Every guy should know how to knit. I’m sure it might really come in handy for…” He laughed. “Well, I’m not sure for what, but baby, Cal’s okay. He’s an awesome kid. He’s got a damned strong foundation, and he got it from you.” Hands cradling either side of her face, he tilted her head, forcing her to look at him, to catch the full weight of his words. “Yeah, I’d give anything to have been here from the start with you, helping to shape his life and views. But I’m here now, and I thought we’d decided that’s what matters.”

  “It is.” She sniffed.

  “All right, then. No more tears. Let me get Bear in the garage to help Cal finish the roof, then we’ll get you inside for a hot bath.”

  “No, wait,” she said, wearing what she hoped was a big grin that might even rival the size of one of Caleb’s. “Maybe I’d rather have Bear helping me?”

  “Ha, ha,” Caleb said. “Get that sassy mouth of yours upstairs and in the tub. I’ll be up to deal with you momentarily.”

  With Cal and Milo safe with Bear in the garage, Caleb stood outside Allie’s bedroom door, palms sweating, pulse pounding as if he were setting off on his first date.

  He wasn’t on duty, but that didn’t erase the moral dilemma of what he wanted so desperately to do.

  Was he just supposed to bust through the doors and pull some macho stunt like taking her on the side of the tub? Should he pull the nice guy routine and allow Allie to finish her bath in private? Did he go in and just pretend to be comfortable sitting on the small ottoman Allie used for putting on her makeup? Did he sit there, butt half-on/half-off the ridiculous, spindly thing, trying to keep up a casual conversation when all he wanted to do was—

  Just thinking of Allie lying there all naked and soapy and slick…

  He adjusted his fly.

  On the one hand, she was the mother of his child, and as such, should be treated with a certain amount of respect.

  On the other hand, she was hot. He’d never even seen her pregnant. She could’ve been with another guy. How did he even know Cal was his?

  He scowled.

  He knew, because he knew.

  Because his heart told him so every time he looked in the kid’s eyes, the same shade as his.

  Pacing the not nearly long enough hall, Caleb rubbed his forehead. What to do? What to do?

  Manly choice—bust down the door and take everything he wanted.

  Gentlemanly choice, ethical choice—go downstairs and crash in front of ESPN.

  The bedroom door creaked open.

  “Well?” Allie asked, looking all pink and fresh-scrubbed and so beautiful she took his breath away. “You planning on standing out here all night?”

  “You didn’t stay long in the tub.” His voice sounded more husky than usual.

  “I got the water too hot. Started feeling more like I was boiling than bathing.”

  He chuckled.

  She giggled.

  The implication of what could’ve happened between them if only she’d stayed in the water hung in the air.

  “Is Cal almost finished in the garage?” she asked.

  “Yeah. If it’s all right with you, I thought we might head back to the petting zoo this weekend to pick out a rooster and hens. Maybe chicks.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Hens. Chicks. Either way, sounds good.”

  “The kid also needs a horse.”

  “A horse?” She raised her eyebrows. “And which kid would that be for?”

  “I’m hurt.” He clutched his chest. “Are you intimating I’m trying to fast-track my son’s appreciation for all things having to do with the Old West by buying him a horse?”

  “Maybe that’s what I’m saying.”

  “Okay, but now that you know what I’m up to,” he said, “does this mean it’s a go for the horse? Because if so, the same guy who’s selling us the rooster has a great little paint that—”

  “I’m sorry, Caleb, but no. First off, we don’t have enough land, and second, who’s going to take care of it when you’re gone?”

  “Cal,” he said. “Besides which, what if I’m not gone?”

  “You mean what if we get married? Isn’t that an awfully big ‘what if’ considering the fact you apparently don’t even want to—” Make love to me.

  “Case closed on the horse.” He sharply looked away. “Anyway, I was just messing around.”

  “Sure,” she said. “I kind of figured as much.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “Um-hmm.”

  Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Caleb sighed. “What are we doing?”

 
“What do you mean?” she asked, knowing full well they were doing a pretty impressive tap dance. And it had nothing to do with a horse! Like the night she’d flat-out begged him to make love to her, but he’d turned her down. And the night Gillian bought them a romantic night at the Inn that was supposed to have rekindled their romance, but didn’t work out that way. The love-making that used to come so naturally between them wasn’t happening.

  Why? Was it just one more sign they weren’t meant to be married?

  “Geez, Al, I’d planned to barge right into that bathroom and plunder you, but until this case is officially over…”

  “I know,” she said, bowing her head. “I feel the same. I want whatever we used to have to come back, but…”

  “You’re scared it’s been so long that the magic we shared is gone?”

  “Pretty much,” she said. “I guess that’s it.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

  He reached for her hand, did that nifty trick where he swirled his finger round and round her palm.

  She swallowed hard, desperately searching for air past distracting rising heat.

  He raised her fevered palm to his lips. Strong firm lips that made her mouth jealous of her hand. His moist breath tickled, but this was no laughing matter. Instant arousal licked her belly. Her nipples puckered and hardened.

  That magic? In her case anyway, it was there.

  Times ten!

  Eyes closed, she focused on her next hitched breath.

  “Want to go downstairs?” he asked. “See if Adam left any ice cream?”

  She shook her head, then nodded.

  “Yeah,” Caleb said. “Me, too.”

  “You two are up awfully early,” Allie said the next morning. Her eyes were barely open, yet here were her two men, hard at work in the kitchen.

  “We’re cookin’ breakfast,” Cal said before not so sneakily passing Milo a bacon strip.

  “I see that.” She had a seat at one of the counter bar stools. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing special,” Caleb said, flipping an egg, then stirring the oatmeal. “Just thought you deserved a break.” He shot a sexy grin over his shoulder.

  “Thanks.” More than a little flustered, she fought the urge to fan her flaming cheeks.

  “You’re welcome,” Cal said, thankfully having missed the undercurrent flowing between his mom and dad. The one that ran full of hope that maybe, just maybe, if the stars aligned and they played their cards right and all that other sappy stuff fools say when they’re wishing for their wildest dreams to come true, she just might get her perfect family after all.

  “Caleb,” Allie complained when he presented her with the lunch he’d brought her. “You’ve got to stop being so nice.”

  “This beats all.” Laughing, he pulled out a chair at her office table, spun it around, then straddled it, resting his arms on the chair’s back. “I can’t believe you’re complaining about me doing something nice. Oh, and before I forget, I brought this, too. Found it at a yard sale down the street from the house.” From his coat pocket he took a barely eight-inch-tall porcelain figurine of a hula dancer doing her thing under a swaying palm. Handing it to Allie, he said, “I know she’s probably tacky, but I liked the expression on her face. Thought it might relax you. You know, looking at her and the tree and thinking of someplace warm and sunny. Plus, the green goes with your office.”

  Allie, beaming, gingerly took the dancer. “You don’t have to do a sell job. She’s adorable.” Already up from the table, she set the dancer on her desk. “Perfect.” She headed back his way, landing a kiss to his cheek.

  “That’s all I get for bringing lunch and a present?”

  She tried again, this time aiming for his lips.

  Caleb slipped his hand along her soft cheek, going farther to bury his fingers in even softer hair. He wasn’t sure who’d come up with the bright idea of including a little tongue but he liked it. A lot. Maybe too much judging by the instant tent pitched in his pants.

  “Whew…” she eventually pulled back. “Maybe you should bring lunch and a present every day.” She winked. “That way I get to thank you every day.”

  He winked back. “Sounds like a plan.” After eating for a few minutes in companionable silence, he asked, “So you really like the knickknack? ’Cause if you don’t, I can—”

  “Don’t you dare do anything with her.” Allie stole one of his barbecue chips.

  “I saw that.”

  She made a face.

  “Cal says you have a thing about clutter, so I don’t want you feeling like with all the stuff I drag in, I’m ruining your space.”

  “I don’t for a minute think that,” she said, covering his hand. “I love everything you’ve brought. The Mr. Chia Head and canisters and the palm and all the movie magazines and Jolly Ranchers—and especially the totem pole thingee. Every bit of it is quirky and cute and wonderful… Kind of like the man who brought them.”

  Damn if her speech didn’t have him feeling a little misty behind his eyes. “Thanks,” he managed.

  “For what? I’m thanking you.”

  “Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “Just thanks. This has been the nicest assignment I’ve had in a while. Doesn’t really even feel like work—being around you, I mean.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Allie said. “I think.”

  Since Caleb had to catch up on paperwork, Bear and Adam took Allie home that afternoon from the courthouse.

  Cal, Milo, and his security detail were at his friend Max’s, leaving Allie on her own. She popped a roasting hen in the oven, added a few scrubbed, foil-wrapped potatoes, then tossed a salad.

  Seeing how that had taken all of fifteen minutes, and for once she was caught up on all of her court document reading, she was left in the unfamiliar territory of having nothing to do.

  She went upstairs to check the hampers, thinking she might as well get a head start on the weekend wash. While passing by Caleb’s room, she noticed a pile of dirty clothes in the corner by the closet. Figuring he probably needed clean clothes worse than Cal or her, she scooped them up, then headed to the basement laundry room.

  On top of the pile was that denim shirt Caleb was always wearing that had the missing button.

  Aside from that shirt, she loaded the rest of his clothes, then trekked back upstairs to fetch her sewing basket from the hall closet.

  Since she still wasn’t allowed to open curtains or blinds, she headed for the den where the windows were too high to need blinds, but in the late afternoon, sunlight still streamed through.

  Curled up in an armchair, Caleb’s masculine scent wreathed every tug of the needle while she sewed a new button on his shirt.

  It was such a simple thing—sewing on a button—yet Caleb was always doing such nice things for her she wanted to do more for him. She wanted to do everything for him. Cook delicious meals that made his stomach happy. Iron his always wrinkled white shirts. Massage his shoulders and feet. Kiss him and hug him and buy him that horse he wanted.

  She wanted to do all that, but should she?

  For whatever reason, he wasn’t ready to take their relationship much past the status of kissing friends.

  Funny how he’d asked her to marry him, but not to sleep with him. Funny and refreshing. Kind of upside down in times of commonplace one-night stands.

  Was Caleb’s lack of physical affection merely like he said—an issue of work ethics and respect? Or could it be something more? Like him not even being attracted to her?

  Eight years was a long time.

  People changed. As did their tastes.

  What if she was no longer his type? And he was just kissing her to be polite?

  What if he didn’t like the few pounds she’d added or the occasional gray hairs that had started popping up?

  Just thinking about him coming home soon filled her with giddy excitement. Did he feel the same about coming home to her? Cal, yes. But her? The woman who might become his wife?

&nb
sp; Putting down the shirt, she headed to a decorative mirror on the den’s far wall, searching for some particularly unattractive portion of herself she might’ve missed.

  There was a new mole on her left cheek. At her last physical, her doctor said it wasn’t any big deal, but maybe she should just go ahead and have it removed? Her eyebrows were totally out of control. How long had it been since she’d had time for a professional wax? And then there was—

  “Like what you see?” Caleb asked, humor in his tone.

  She jumped, put her hand to her chest before spinning around. “Couldn’t you have at least knocked?”

  “Sorry.” He gave the nearest wall a few thumps. “May I come in?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m mad at you.”

  “How come?” He crossed the room, fitting his arms around her hips, lacing his fingers proprietarily low.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “Just because.”

  “Oh…” He nodded his head wisely. “Sounds like a typical female reason to me.”

  He was just going in for a kiss when she blurted, “Caleb? Do you still find me attractive?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, in your eyes, am I still pretty?”

  “Woman,” he said in a throaty growl, “you’re beyond attractive and deep into the realm of goddess territory.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You trying to butter me up to sell me a nice tract of swamp land?”

  “Nah,” he said. “Just trying to squelch whatever crazy fear I saw in your eyes before you even knew I was here, while at the same time butter you up.”

  “Butter me up for what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said with a big grin. “How about we just mosey on into the kitchen and you can see for yourself.”

  “Caleb, it’s beautiful…” Allie scratched her head, scrunched her nose. “But, um, what is it?” Standing at least six feet tall in front of the closed kitchen window blinds was an exotic-stemmed orange flower.

  “You’re not seeing it at the right angle,” he said. “Here…” He turned it around, so she could view it from the front.

  “It’s a bookshelf,” she said with an excited clap. On the other side of the first flower, there was an identical one. The two formed supports for the shelves lining the center. “I love it! Where did you find it?”