Against his mouth, Harley’s lips moved. “They’re calling you.”
He heard the smile in her voice, felt it against his mouth. As he eased back, trailing kisses across her mouth and down the side of her neck, he realized he was getting accustomed to the two little midgets turning his life upside down. Less than a week ago, a bloody-murder scream would’ve sent him ducking for cover or running for his life.
“How about you, Aunt Harley? Want me to give you a bubble bath tonight?”
“Mmmm, only if you intend to join me.”
Easing back, cornering her against the counter between his arms, he gazed down at her upturned face, noted the slight redness along her jaw, made a mental note to shave. He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m not exactly comfortable giving the girls a bath.”
“Chicken.”
With his free hand, he released the top button of her blouse, revealing the sweet curve of her breast, the tantalizing, teasing view of her rosy nipple as he pulled the material aside. Pinpricks raced up his back and he froze. Over the rumbling of desire, he heard the breathing of the girls behind him.
Damn they were quiet. He’d have to install a lock on the bedroom door, or keep one eye on the door and one ear tuned to their presence.
Straightening, pulling his hand out from beneath Harley’s shirt while she in turn did up the buttons, he peered down at the twins. They stood so close, they were practically in his back pocket. They had their necks craned, their curious gazes darting between him and their aunt.
He returned his attention to Harley, saw her slipping the last button securely into place.
Why had he been worried? They were two consenting adults. Nobody was going to get hurt.
Hell, he could probably justify this a zillion different ways.
Hands on hips, he faced the twins. “Your Aunt will give you a bath tonight.”
Disappointment flitted across the twins’ faces. “Then will you read us Cind’rella, Unca Gage?”
He shifted away from Harley so the girls stood between them, and crouched down to their level which gave him a perfect view of Harley’s legs. Distraction at it’s finest. “Why not get Aunt Harley to read it instead?”
“We want you to read it, Unca Gage, cause you’re like Prince Charming.”
His chest expanded even more, until he thought it might burst with happiness, and he gave the girls a smile. “It’s a deal.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Harley kissed the girls goodnight and left Gage alone to read them a bedtime story.
She debated about going for a shower, then remembered he’d promised her a bubble bath. The thought of sharing the tub or shower with Gage was enough to turn things steamier than they already were.
By now, she was familiar with his MO. So when he joined her in the living room, she was already anticipating what she’d do with him, and was determined not to let him escape.
She remained on the couch, and forced herself not to jump him immediately and scare him away. “You can go for a shower first.”
He looked slightly confused, maybe even disappointed. “You sure?”
Returning her gaze to the magazine on her lap, she smiled to herself. “Sure.”
He stood there for a few seconds longer while she pretended to ignore him. In the end, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway. When Harley heard the shower turn on, she pushed to her feet and headed for the bathroom.
Giving him ample time to shuck his clothes and get into the shower, she finally opened the bathroom door and slipped inside.
He was standing naked under the hard spray, his arms braced against the shower head wall, the pulse of the water hitting his back. She stood there and watched him, enjoying the firm angles of his body, until all of a sudden he raised his head and looked directly at her.
She reached for the top button on her shirt and slipped it free.
The shower door slid open and he stood there in glorious nakedness, wearing only the wolfish grin she loved.
“What took you so long?”
Yes, loved. If she couldn’t admit it to him, she could at least admit it to herself.
She slipped free the second button and let her gaze wander freely over his body. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”
He quirked one masculine eyebrow while his gaze slid down her body. As she shook the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, his eyes flared with lust. “Does this mean you’re staying?”
She unsnapped to top button of her shorts and pulled down the zipper. “Staying does have certain benefits.”
His gaze dropped to her shorts, and she slipped her fingers into the waistband and pushed both shorts and panties down her legs. Stepping out of the material, she closed the distance between them.
His hands were clasped around the top frame of the shower door, his erection stood at full attention, but he didn’t move. “What about the girls? Aren’t you worried they’ll wake up?”
Pressing the palm of her hands against his chest, she pushed him back. “Unless Lisa told Laura another monster tale, they should both sleep through the night.”
As she stepped into the shower stall, she took him into her hands, saw heat flare in his eyes, recognized the moment he surrendered to his desire. Then he grabbed her by the shoulders, hauled her up against his big body, and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.
And maybe for them, there wasn’t. All she knew for sure was that they had this moment, this night.
He cupped her bottom, lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. At the junction of her thighs, she felt him probe, seek entrance.
Harley opened to him and he pressed into her, filling her inch by inch…pure torture, mindless ecstasy.
Bordering on the edge of release, she wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, and held on for the ride of her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Gage woke to the softness of the woman snuggled in his arms, her derrière pressed against his morning hard-on, and a calm, centered feeling.
It lasted for all of two seconds.
A girlish giggle came from the direction of the kitchen, then another. Carefully, he disengaged himself from Harley’s arms. She stirred once, blinked open her eyes. He kissed her on the top of the head, shushing her. “Go back to sleep, honey. I’ve got the girls this morning.”
“Thank y…”
As she drifted back to sleep, Gage crawled out of bed, pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt, and wondered if maybe the parenting gene didn’t kick in until people had kids of their own. Because otherwise, they were pretty lousy at this temporary gig. How had the twins gotten past the bedroom door without either of them hearing a sound?
Apprehension crawled up his spine. It was dead quiet out there. By now he’d learned that quiet, the twins, and trouble seemed to go hand in hand.
Gage shut the bedroom door so Harley could sleep until it was time for him to go to work. As he walked into the kitchen, he saw dust particles floating in the air.
One look at Laura with the apron tied around her waist, a rolling pin in her hand, and Lisa spooning flour from the canister into a two cup measuring cup—with most of the flour landing on the counter top and floor—told him it wasn’t dust at all.
He crossed the kitchen, took the heavy canister out of the crook of Lisa’s arm before she dropped it, and set it on the cupboard out of reach. “What are you making, girls?”
Laura beamed up at him. “Pancakes.”
“Wif syrup,” Lisa added as she grabbed the Aunt Jemima bottle and shot a liberal dose of the golden liquid into the bowl.
What the heck? Why not?
After last night, he was in a good mood. Harley would be, too, whenever she rolled out of bed. And besides, what better way to demonstrate his patience than to give the girls a treat.
He took the syrup out of Lisa’s hands before she used it all in the bowl, set it out of reach with the flour, and pushed the
bowl away from the edge of the counter, off to the back where it would be safe. “If you girls want to make pancakes in my house, you have to use my secret recipe.”
Laura clapped her hands together, her eyes shining with excitement. “Will you help us?”
“You bet I will, sugarplum.” Gage ruffled her hair, and when a cloud of flour came his way, arched back.
Laura looked down at her sister and giggled. “Lisa, what’re you doin’?”
“I’s the big bad wolf. Jes like Unca Gage.” Cheeks ballooned out with a mouthful of air, mouth barely an inch from the counter top, Lisa huffed and puffed and sent billows of flour into the air.
Gage grabbed her by the waist and hauled her into his arms. She hit him square in the face with a gust of wind, a layer of spittle, and smile that seemed to reach from ear to ear. “Okay girls. How about a little less monkey business and a little more cooperation. First, we clean up the kitchen. Then we clean up you. And only then will we make my secret pancake recipe.”
Within the hour, the kitchen was sparkling again, the girls were wolfing down their pancakes, and Gage was sitting back at the table, enjoying a fresh cup of coffee and the morning newspaper.
This felt comfortable, good…almost right.
Laura grabbed the syrup bottle and held it upside down over her plate, giving it multiple squeezes. “What’cha so happy about, Unca Gage?”
“Life is good, sugarplum.” He set the newspaper aside, took the bottle from her hands, and set it out of reach. Already, her pancakes were swimming in the stuff. He shook his head, glanced at his watch, and pushed to his feet. “I have to get to work soon. Are you two almost done? I should get you both cleaned up before we wake Aunt Harley.”
“You gonna kiss her again?” Lisa asked, a dollop of syrup running down the side of her mouth.
Gage bit back a goofy grin and slid the chair against the table. “Been thinking about it.”
With sticky fingers, Laura brushed a curl off her forehead. The curl stuck to her hand, and Gage wet a washcloth and went around the table to help her out of her predicament. She beamed up at him. “I like it when you kiss Aunt Harley.”
Gage tweaked her nose. “I like it when I kiss Aunt Harley, too.”
Lisa elbowed her sister, then turned her sticky face and tooth-filled grin up to Gage. “Kiss us goodbye, too. ’Kay?”
Sticky faces beamed up at him. “As soon as we get those sticky faces and hands all washed. Are you both done eating?”
“A’most.” Lisa dropped her face onto her plate and lapped at the syrup like a puppy dog.
Gage laughed and pulled the plate out from under her mouth. “You’ve had enough sugar for one day, munchkin.”
“You’re a munchkin.” Laura laughed and, plate in hand, wiggled down off the chair so she could carry her dish to the sink. Too late, Gage noticed she’d been holding the plate at an angle, and syrup trailed on the floor behind her.
As he crouched down to wipe up the sticky mess, he reevaluated his choices of breakfast foods. What had Harley and Mike said the other day about pancakes and syrup for breakfast? He glanced at the girls. They seemed okay, unaffected, no more hyper than usual.
Gage took them into the bathroom to help them wash up. Discovering that the syrup was in their clothes and their hair, he thought about waking Harley up, then decided he could give the girls a bath himself.
By the time the girls were in the tub, and Gage had made a trip to the basement to start a load of laundry, Harley had woken. He found her kneeling by the bathtub, pouring a cup of water over Lisa’s head to rinse the shampoo out of her hair.
As he came through the door, she turned her head, and her soft mocha gaze was warm with the memory of last night. “Good morning, handsome. I’m sorry I slept in.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. This is a team effort, remember?”
She pushed to her feet and approached him, a smile in her eyes, a bit of shyness in there, too.
Warmth suffused him as he remembered how she’d felt in his arms, how she loved the girls. He knew right there and then that he could spend the rest of his life waking up with her in his arms.
He lowered his voice so the girls wouldn’t hear. “I kept you up most of the night. Sorry.”
A blush colored her pale cheeks. Apparently she wasn’t all that embarrassed because she gave him an impish grin. “If I remember correctly, I was a willing participant.”
A giggle came from the bathtub and one of the girls said, “Kiss Aunt Harley.”
She looped her arms around his neck and he lowered his head to her mouth, giving her a gentle kiss. Then he pushed away from her because he knew if he didn’t, he’d spend the rest of the day in bed with her. The twins would run amuck. He’d get his ass fired. “The girls are fed. I’ve got a load of their laundry in the washing machine. I called in a favor and have one of my cop buddies watching the house. I should be home by late afternoon.”
“Hurry back,” she said, and he hauled his butt out of there before he changed his mind and decided to play hooky.
All the way to the station, thoughts of life with Harley kept intruding. He could feel a goofy grin taking charge of his mouth. Man, if he looked as lovelorn as he felt, the guys at the station would spend the day teasing the hell out of him.
So maybe today he didn’t much care.
Escaping the growing heat of the morning, he entered the air conditioned building, and settled down at his desk. Across from him, Adam didn’t so much as raise his head. That could only mean one thing.
Trouble with a capital T.
Gage leafed through the papers on his desk.
Nothing unusual there. Reports on the latest crimes. A memo from the public relations department asking all members to follow proper procedure when out on a call. Another memo from…
He dropped the other papers back on the desk and leaned back in his chair.
…from the Chief himself.
No kissing on duty.
Adam’s phone rang, drawing Gage’s attention. He glanced up, watched as, head lowered, Adam spoke quietly into the receiver. Looking innocent as the twins. A dead giveaway. He tossed the memo across the desk to his partner, peered around at the other occupants of the room to see who else was involved.
Nobody was paying a mite of attention to him. At least, not so he could tell.
Biting back a smile, Gage opened the top drawer of his desk and discovered a white lacy bra, a box of condoms, and a book on sexual techniques. One by one, he pulled them out and lined them up on his desk.
Interesting stuff. Harley would be totally amused.
Adam had hung up the phone and was studying the memo, a quizzical expression on his face. “I didn’t receive this one.”
“No?”
“Could be because I’ve never kissed anyone while on duty.” Adam waved the paper in the air, drawing the attention of the other detectives. “Anybody else receive a memo on the official rules of kissing while on duty?”
While the men gathered around Adam, Gage opened the next drawer. Pink slips of paper spilled out and as he read them, he barely contained his laughter.
Who’s your momma?
Come home soon, loverboy.
Nothing’s better than riding your Harley all night long.
Adam’s voice reached him over the murmuring of the other men. “Something you want to get off your chest?”
Gage shook his head, kept his expression carefully neutral. “Nope.”
The radio squealed. The room turned silent.
“Calling all squad cars. Calling all squad cars. We have a 10-10-10 in progress.”
Gage shoved the notes back into the drawer. “What’s a 10-10-10?”
Adam lifted one finger and smirked. “Wait. It’s coming.”
“It’s a smooching bandit alert, folks. So stay sharp.”
The room roared with laughter. As Gage joined in, he realized that he was going to love sharing this all with Harley.
His chest swelle
d with joy.
As the noise level returned to normal and everyone headed back to work, Gage shifted his attention to Adam. “Any word on my brother?”
“Nothing yet.” His partner’s phone rang. “Why don’t you go home and spend some time with your new family? Maybe it’ll give you some ideas of your own.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
After lunch, Harley shooed the girls outside for some exercise. They were still wound up from the pancakes and syrup, so she initiated a game of hide and seek. With any luck, they’d wear off some of their boundless energy and soon be ready for their afternoon nap.
Maybe she’d have one, too. With any luck, Gage would be back before the girls woke, and he’d join her for a repeat of last night.
She closed her eyes and recalled the moment in the shower when he’d lifted her against his big body. She’d wrapped her legs around his waist and he’d filled her with his very impressive erection.
Yeah, they wouldn’t get much sleeping done—again. In her books, that was entirely okay.
She uncovered her eyes and peered out at the back yard. “Ready or not. Here I come.”
Mature trees dotted the perimeter of the yard along the fence, their girth substantial enough for even her to hide behind. Harley rolled off the lounger and tipped her head to the side, listening for a childish giggle to give one of the girls away.
Nothing. A smile caught her mouth and she skipped down the steps of the deck, out of the shade, and into the sunlight. She tilted her head to study the clear blue sky. To the West, clouds gathered over the Rocky Mountain range, teasing her with the promise of rain to come.
If it came. So far this summer, Mother Nature hadn’t cooperated at all.
In the distance, thunder rumbled, and a cool breeze drifted through the yard and brought in the fresh scent of rain.
She peered around the yard and made a mental note to water the wilting plants along the south edge of the fence and the flowers in the pots.
A rustle near the fence drew her attention back to their game. She tip-toed along the slate path, heading for the sound. “Ready or not, here I come.”
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