by J. A. Coffey
"My dad likes men who are forthright."
"Okay."
"Mom likes honesty. I mean, dad does too, it goes without saying, but-"
"Hon." God, her fingers were like ice. "It'll be okay."
Yes, the trip took longer in a car built for top cruising speeds of thirty mph, but Darius figured the wind in her hair would whisk away much of her worrying. He followed her directions and eased the jalopy into their driveway sans horn.
Jess again became agitated and bunched her hair in her hands, smoothed her top and jeans, brushed off Darius' shirt. With a bravery-inducing moue she walked through their front door. "Mom? Dad? Welcome home!"
Darius watched them both rise up off the couch to greet them, and he noticed a tray of cheese and crackers on the tidy coffee table.
Darius immediately recognized Mr. and Mrs. Swan, not only by memory, but the remarkable resemblance Jess had to both of them. She had her mother's wavy hair and blonde tones, her dad's eyes and Irish coloring, her mom's chin. After Jess hugged them tight and asked about their cruise, she turned to introduce Darius to them.
He heard the pride in her voice as she tried out the word, "husband."
Darius grinned, beaming like a schoolboy at how pleased the word made him. He bowed low over Anna's hand, "Mrs. Swan, you haven't changed a bit in ten years."
"Oh, stop." She swatted him, knowing he meant it and trying to act abashed. "Call me Anna. We're family now."
Then Darius faced his new father-in-law, accepting the vice-like grip and meeting the man's eyes. "Sir, it is my greatest sorrow that I was unable to ask you for the honor of your daughter's hand in marriage. I swear you will not regret having me as your son-in-law."
Her father's grip never faltered, and Darius knew the man sized him up, hoping he'd show weakness. But he learned early to show no weakness when sparring on the mats, and Darius held his ground here.
Nicholas released his hand then, smiling a bit at his wife and daughter. "Well, I know Jess thought very highly of you, mentioned you frequently over the years. Since she's not a brash person by nature, I can only assume she had a very good reason for rushing into marriage."
Jess tipped her head back in the familiar pose of a daughter long beleaguered by her parents and gusted out with, "I'm not pregnant, Dad."
Darius smiled to ease the tension even as he made a mental note to address that topic on the ride home. "It's hardly brash if you've waited ten years for each other, like we have."
"Still," Nicholas eyed him. "You broke my daughter's heart once." The threat hovered in the air like a loaded pistol.
Darius felt himself bristle at the implication, and his English accent jumped to the fore. "Let's get this straight, shall we? I never broke your daughter's heart. My father did. He broke mine too that day. What was I to do? I was seventeen, living under the iron thumb of the aristocracy.
"Immediately after that night, he shipped me back to England, where I next spent the better part of ten years plying my trade across Europe. It was only this last month that, due to my father's interference at Ollie's passing, I was finally able to come back to America. Even then, I didn't know if I'd be able to find Jessalyn. I just assumed she be married with six kids by now. Imagine my shock when I found her, and single to boot. I refused to let her get away again." He shook his head once. "I was not about to lose her twice in one lifetime."
Darius felt like he had hyperventilated, being as provoked as he felt, and he stared at Nicholas fully expecting reprisal. But Nicholas only crooked a smile at him and stepped forward. Perhaps he had only needed reassurance from Darius. Perhaps his vehemence was all the proof the man needed. In any case, he cupped Darius on the shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. "Take good care of my girl. Real good care." Then he clapped him hard on the bicep and stepped back.
His guard was still up. "I've every intention of doing just that."
Nicholas smiled and walked away, but stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and looked back. "Do me a favor."
Darius stood taller at Nick's words, fearing a precarious tip in either direction could set the stage for all future encounters with this man. "Sir?"
Nick's lips twitched a bit in a gesture that Darius hoped foretold of a tease. "Promise you'll give me at least two months' notice if I'm having any grandkids."
Tension left him at that, and Darius gave him a genuine grin. All would be well. He could feel it to his marrow. "I'll do better than that, sir. I'll give you six."
Nick winked at Jess and walked to the fridge, pulling out a beer to show Darius. He accepted with a nod, and Nick pulled out a second one and closed the door with his foot.
Anna stepped up and buzzed his cheek. "He likes you," she whispered, then gave him a squeeze before turning to guide him into the living room. "Welcome to the family. Now, come in and have a seat." She turned him and offered a friendly shove to herd them into the living room.
Darius held Jess' elbow as she took her seat on the vintage green naugahyde couch, and he dropped down beside her, wanting to toss his arm around her shoulders but being respectful of her parents in their home. Side by side Nick and Anna stood, their backs to a hallway he assumed went to the bathroom or cellar.
Neither one spoke.
Electricity raced his skin like it always did before a match, making him sit taller in awareness of his surroundings. Something was wrong. He indicated the red leather chairs facing the couch. "Won't you please join us? I'd love to hear some of your adventures over the last ten years."
They shifted, and he caught them darting a glance to each other. He entertained a moment of suspicion that they were behind the two attacks.
Anna clenched her hands and looked to Nick for some apparent guidance, her mouth opened and silent. She turned to them and said, "We have something to tell you."
Nick continued, "This may come as a shock...."
And then the volley continued.
"It was not our idea," Anna insisted.
"We were against it from the start."
"I mean, who plans this kind of thing?"
"I said it was wrong," Nick pounded one fist into the other on the last word.
Now Darius really felt they were behind the attacks, or at least pawns. He bristled and stated, "You tried to get me killed." He grabbed Jess' hand and made to leave, but their shocked expressions forestalled him.
"What?" They seemed horrified, and he settled back down, knowing he had no idea what they were trying to say.
So he frowned at them and cautiously crossed his arms. Jess looked between him and her parents, obviously as lost as he.
"The thing is...." Nick looked to Anna and she looked to him. They seemed to come to some sort of conclusion because they faced Darius and together stated, "Ollie's not dead."
Breath left him. He was also pretty sure his heart ceased beating. Everything in the room seemed to fuzz around the edges and then sway. Even the couch moved underneath him, and he grabbed onto the armrest to steady himself. After his lungs forced air into his system, he felt a modicum of color return to his face. Jess grabbed his hand. She remained pale and mute and staring at her folks.
"I...." he cocked an ear at them. "Come again?"
"Oh, you heard us." Nick stepped close and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He met up with us on vacation. Between Jeremy and Tim, we had a complete play-by-play of the last few weeks."
Fire snapped in Anna's expression as she stepped close. "And let me tell you how close I came to flying back when your house burned down. But Jeremy assured us you were safe, and pretty much forbid we come back." She shared a sideways grin that said she held no fear- or animosity- for Jeremy.
Then both her parents backed away and stood blocking that back hallway again. "Would you...like him to come out?"
He looked at Jess with disbelief. It all sort of made sense: the lack of funeral, no wake, no callers. Ollie had been too well-received to be worth so little to so many.
And he desperately wanted to see him a
gain, just one last time. Just long enough to apologize and tell him how much he missed him. He felt his vision blur when he nodded.
Her parents smiled, and Nick tucked down the hallway. Jess stood, tentative, and he saw her throat work as she gazed down that corridor. Soon a very old but vital man walked up, his jaw making that handlebar moustache jump. Jess sobbed once as she walked up to hug him. "You are the most wretched man alive."
"I'm sorry, Jessie. I just couldn't bear to watch you two be so far apart any longer. I'm not getting any younger, you know."
Darius found himself standing and staring, not knowing if his feet would work at all this moment. The room still shifted under his weight, and he found himself leaning to compensate for the change in gravity as he stared at the face from beyond the grave. Ollie studied him from over Jess' shoulder, eyes never leaving his.
A gamut of emotions raced through Darius. He felt betrayed, played, relieved and very, very grateful.
Ollie eased out of Jess' arms and approached Darius. "Can you forgive me, my boy? An old man who wanted to see you happy, regardless of the bluff I made?"
Another card reference. He felt those tears then, but they were of joy, of gratitude that he had not forsaken Ollie's last precious moments. He nodded and stepped forth, and he found his arms crushing Ollie with a strength he didn't know he had. They were of the same height, same build, and Darius marveled that he had not made the connection before. He knew genetics could be a tricky beast to master, but the truth had been before him the entire time had he bothered to acknowledge it.
He knew he stood there longer than a man should hug another man, and after a long moment he came to his senses and backed up. Ollie grabbed him behind the neck and gave a fatherly squeeze as Darius wiped off his cheeks. Without looking, he noticed his face was not the only damp one in the room. Even Nick gave a manly wipe to his lashes.
"I thought you had cancer." It came out quite accusingly, more so than he had intended.
Ollie grinned it off and stuck out his arms. "Oh, I do," he showed him the pockmarks from recent skin surgeries. "And there's more inside me. But I still have some time. Time I wasn't ready to waste. It's why I did what I had to, son. I couldn't die without bringing you back to Jessie's life. If you two didn't work out, then I would have stayed in the Caribbean, hasten the disease under that hot sun." He winked to soften his words.
But Darius needed a little time. "I thought you were dead."
"You were supposed to."
"But I never got to say goodbye." He looked up, feeling agony for his choices. "I left you in your moment of need. I-"
"Son." Ollie gripped his shoulder, and Darius took that word to a whole new level of importance. "I had a nice little gathering at the policeman's ball. For a hefty donation, they named in it my honor. They even played three songs in my memory. Wasn't that nice?"
Darius could summon no more than a flat look at that.
Ollie chuckled and plowed on. "I made a choice, for which I am not sorry. I did what I had to do to get you back to America, to the woman you loved. In doing so, I flushed out Beauregard's hatred and true colors. But even I never thought he would do what he did. So, for that, I am truly sorry." He cocked his head a bit. "Will you forgive an old man for all that happened?"
"No." Darius shook his head and held Ollie's eyes. When that man took a deep breath and stood taller, Darius offered him a little grin. He opted to try out a new word in his vocabulary. "But I will forgive my...dad."
They shook hands then, and Ollie wrapped an arm around Darius' neck and crunched him close in another hug. The relief in Darius' soul that he had a second chance, a chance to have a real family of his own, made fresh tears spring to his eyes. The man he loved, the woman he loved, and the house and furnishings he loved had all come together.
His mind felt comfortably numb with humility.
Ollie stepped back, his moustache bouncing in preparation of his proclamation. "Son, it's come to my attention I no longer have a place to live."
Jess gasped and looked to Darius, but Darius knew this man had something up his sleeve. That bouncing moustache was a dead giveaway. "That's just terrible."
Ollie fought a grin. "Do you think I could live with you? Just until I...you know." He glanced at his arms. "I could even stay in my den. It's got a piano Murphy bed, after all."
The expression on Jess' face told Darius she was all about forgive and forget, but Darius and Ollie never let one another off the hook so easily. "How do you expect to pay for your board? The dead don't work."
"I'll cook, I'll clean." He cowered like a hungry street urchin. "I'll starch your undies."
"You better not." Darius crossed his arms and affected an imperious pose. He narrowed his gaze in distrust. "How do I know you won't try to add us to your undead collection? Stage other crimes?"
Another bouncing round. "You have my word." He seemed sincere. Eager. Too eager.
Darius pretended to take a moment to seriously consider the benefits of allowing a deceased person to reside in his home.
Again Ollie cowered and simpered before him. "I'll Will you the rest of my cash, the stuff even Beau doesn't know I have."
That made Darius grin. "Keep it, old man. Board at Chez Covington is pretty expensive for a man of your questionable working background."
It was the answer Ollie seemed to know they would reach. They both started laughing and clapped each other on the shoulders. Ollie called out to Anna, saying, "Geez, what's a zombie got to do to get some food around here? Don't you people know there's no hunger like that of the undead?"
"Fresh out of brains," was Anna's immediate reply.
Ollie chuckled and gathered Anna to his side in a fatherly crunch, then released her and turned to Darius and Jess. "I haven't been to the ol' homestead since my Lazarus moment; I'm almost afraid to ask. What happened to the inheritance?"
Darius looked to Jess to see if she wanted to answer. She seemed to take his glance as an invitation. He watched her lips twitch just before she said, "I figured if I let him keep everything, then he owes me big time. Like, French-Riviera- honeymoon big time. So, I opted to take the high road."
Darius scratched his head and feigned confusion. "It sounded a lot more humble and introspective by my recollection, you know, when you said losing everything in the fire left a gaping hole in your life, and how you wouldn't wish that on anyone."
An indifferent hand waved in his direction. "You heard what you wanted to hear." Her lips twitched as she held in her laugh.
Darius laughed and drew her in for a kiss, forgetting for a moment that her parents were watching and then smiling against Jess' lips when he realized he really didn't care. He drew her up along his chest, pulling her feet off the floor until she squealed before he released her amid their laughter.
When they all moved into the kitchen redolent with the scents of fried onions and chicken casserole, Darius collected Jess to his side. He nuzzled her ear, and Ollie indicated them to Jess' parents with a head nod before coming up and taking their arms in his hands. Darius saw the pleasure in his dad's face when Ollie amended and said, "Actually, forget what I said about no hunger like the undead. I'd have to say now there's no hunger like two people completely and insatiably in love."
Darius looked into Jess' eyes and saw all the love and hunger he felt for her reflecting straight back at him. He took her hand in his and raised it for a lingering kiss. Peripherally, he saw Jess' father crunch her mom to his side and smile at them, approval in his gaze.
Ollie seemed to take the position of a pastor then, taking their hands in his and then placing them together for him to hold. A smile danced in his solemn gaze, and Darius thought he saw reverence there as well. He patted their enfolded hands with fond affection and said, "Love is all you will ever need to sustain and feed you, my boy, and love, not money, is what will make both of you irrevocably rich."
The End
About The Author
Dorothy Callahan lives in New Yo
rk with her wonderful husband, a pride of demanding cats, and two loyal dogs, all rescued from shelters (not the husband). When she is not writing, she enjoys shopping for antiques and renovating their pre-Civil War house. Please visit her at dorothycallahan.com, [email protected], Facebook at Dorothy Callahan Author, and Twitter at Dorothy Callahan @Callahanauthor.
STILL HOT FOR YOU
By
Diane Escalera
Latin Heat Trilogy, Story One
A sensual tale about what happens after the happily ever
Desperate times call for desperate measures. And Shay LaCosta is pretty desperate. She's wrecked her blissful marriage of five years by demanding she and her husband Dylan have a baby. What the hell was she thinking? She knows she was wrong and she's ready to set things right, if only Dylan will let her. Bet he can't shun her Booty Camp offer: delicious, white-hot sex in exchange for what's going on inside his brain.
Dylan may be macho and stubborn, but he really does miss his wife. A little of Shay's pushing gets him past their estrangement and into her web of seduction. She seems to have an erotic week mapped out to perfection, and who is he to complain? Their marriage is meant to be, so they'll fight with each other, and they'll fight for each other.
Dedication
To Ivan, my husband and best friend: None of this would be possible without you by my side.
Acknowledgements
A special thank you to my awesome editor, Piper Denna. You may change a word or two or three...but you always let me be me.
To all the wonderful readers: I truly hope you enjoy this story. Thank you so much for spending a few hours in my world. You make it all worthwhile.
Please join the Mailing List at DianeEscalera.com and be the first to know about upcoming releases, news and special events.
Chapter One
His kiss was slow. Deep. Erotic. Just like she had imagined repeatedly in her head, only this time it was real, and undoubtedly the hottest make-out session of her life. Dylan LaCosta. What a man. She'd burned for his kiss. This kiss.