by Tia Louise
Melissa
For once I’m awake before Derek. This silly pregnancy is about to drive me crazy with all the exhaustion and the weight gain and the hormones, and now this morning I can’t sleep.
Okay, the hormones aren’t so bad. If we hadn’t started out sharing some pretty hot moments, I’d say we were setting the bar on being insatiable teenagers. A little laugh pushes through my throat as I lie on my side watching him sleep. He’s so gorgeous, and I won’t lie, this surge of protectiveness he’s displaying is incredibly sexy.
I’ve managed to wiggle out of his embrace—it always takes me forever to get used to sleeping alone after he’s been here. He holds me so close against him all night. Now I’m facing him, studying his relaxed profile, small nose, full lips. The first flecks of grey are appearing in his dark beard. It’s so few, I can almost count them, and they make him even more attractive in my eyes.
Lifting my hand quietly so I don’t wake him, I lightly move a dark wave off his eyes. He’ll start complaining about needing a haircut if he stays with me much longer. Just then his violet-blue eyes blink open, and my insides flood with the most amazing sensation—my friend, my lover, my savior… the father of my child.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He leans forward to kiss my forehead before pushing up on his elbow to reach the bottle of water on his nightstand. “You’re awake early.”
I span his large bicep with my hand. “You haven’t been working out as much.”
His head ducks with a laugh. “Are you saying I’m out of shape?”
“Of course not!” I dive into him. “You’re perfect! I just… I don’t want you to be unhappy spending so much time with me. I’m messing up your routine.”
His arms go around me, and I’m propped on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Darling, I’d give up any routine to have this time with you.”
“I love it when your New Orleans comes out.”
“I have another thing that would like to come out.”
“Is that so?” Scooting my hips in line with his, I slide myself down, onto his morning wood. His head drops back and his eyes close with a groan.
Nibbling the base of his neck, my voice is thick now. “I can take care of that situation.”
Minutes later, we’re panting and sweaty and so satisfied…
Except I’m hungry.
I’m on my back now, and he’s kissing the line of my collarbone as I think. “Remember that place that didn’t have the Applewood smoked bacon?”
He chuckles, still inside me. “The Sawmill?”
“You have a very good memory. Much better than mine these days.” I push against his shoulder and he rolls back. “Give me a second to get cleaned up, and we can go get some breakfast.”
Hopping out of the bed, I skip over to the bathroom. He’s lying on his side, elbow bent, head resting on his hand, and I can’t help it. I run back over to kiss his lips, but I scoot away before he can catch me again. We’ll never leave the bedroom if that happens.
“I think you’re starting to show,” he calls after me.
I stop before getting in the shower and turn to the side, looking in the mirror. I think he’s right. Finally, my stomach is starting to round out a bit. Smoothing my hands over the small bump, I’m so happy.
“You’re right,” I call back, before stepping into the stall.
In no time, I’m showered and fresh, and we’re heading out the door to the old restaurant designed to look like a lumberjack’s shop. Tools of the trade hang on the wood-paneled walls, and the menus have pictures of all the selections in them.
“I know you appreciate our fine dining options here.” I can’t help teasing his refined palate. “But I truly love their breakfast.”
A waitress appears. She’s in her fifties, and her hair’s piled in a bun on her head.
“Hey, Melissa. Haven’t seen you in a while.” She smacks gum as she waits for our order—no notepad required.
“Hi, Peg!” My voice is cheerful. I’ve known her since I was a teenager.
Derek scans the laminated menu. “I’ll have a Sawmill Eggs Benedict. Gravy is my favorite hollandaise.”
Giggling, I scan over all the selections. “I want eggs every way. And regular coffee… just this once.”
He shrugs. “I can’t tell you no.”
Peg nods and then shakes her head. We’re sitting on the same side of the booth, which I know is so silly and young-loverish, but I can’t help it. I don’t know if it’s hormones or what, but the situation with Sloan, losing my necklace, none of it seems to dampen how I’m feeling this morning.
Scooting closer to him, I slide the dark hair away from his face as he sips his coffee. “I love having you with me longer than two days at a time.”
He puts the cup down and stretches an arm around my shoulders. “We really need to find a compromise solution to our home-base situation.”
Our blue eyes meet, and I can’t help kissing him. “Then stop fighting me and move here.”
“Melissa…” he groans.
I sit back, crossing my arms. “What’s wrong with Wilmington?”
“Other than the fact there’s not a decent airport for miles, it’s cut off from everything—”
“Like living in Paradise. A dream…”
“For a serial killer. Or any other criminal or societal dropout hoping to escape the long arm of the law.”
“You’ve been working in justice too long.”
“I’ve been very happy Patrick’s here to watch over you for me, but I agree with you.” He lifts my long, dark hair and kisses my cheek. “Being with you even one extra day is so good. I want us to decide now.”
Why did I bring this subject up? I know it’s the one thing we can’t agree on, and it’s also the one thing that could kill my mood. Luckily, the busboys show up at that perfect moment with all our food. Peg’s hanging behind them, making sure they deliver the dishes correctly.
“He’s having the Sawmill B, she’s having all the rest.”
I can’t help laughing as they unload four plates of eggs prepared in a variety of ways for me to sample. “And my bacon!” A plate of bacon appears in front of me.
“Can I get y’all anything else?” Peg waits chewing her gum, unimpressed.
“We’re good, thanks!” I say brightly, and she disappears.
I allow our impasse to give way to the lusciousness of home-cooked breakfast, and we dig in, touching each other every so often as we eat.
“I want to walk on the beach after this,” I manage to say around a bite of bacon and eggs.
He nods. “We’ll need it.” But then his expression turns serious. “I didn’t want to tell you this last night, but Patrick and I need to get on the road for Baltimore by noon.”
And just like that, my happy mood is gone. Disappeared. He’s leaving me in… my eyes wander to the enormous clock hanging in the center of the back wall… two hours.
My chin drops, and his arms are around me just as fast. “I’m sorry.” His breath is against my neck, and it’s almost torture knowing all of this will be over so soon and for who knows how long this time.
“This is part of the plan?” I hear the highness of my voice, the crack as I say the words. It’s pitiful and pathetic, and I don’t care.
He inhales deeply and leans back, concern all over his face. “It is. And I think this time it’s going to work. I’m going to make sure it does, or I promise—”
“Where are you staying? You don’t have a place in Baltimore.” I won’t let him finish what he was trying to say. I also know Patrick won’t let him finish it—we’ve discussed the fact that neither of us will let Derek risk his reputation or his future on someone as worthless as Sloan.
“Patrick started looking for a place last night. I’m sure he’s found something nice.”
Sadness weighs so heavy on my shoulders, I’m no longer hungry. “Let’s get out of here. I want that walk on the beach with you.”
He
nods and fishes out his wallet. Dropping three twenties on the table, he takes my hand and pulls me out of the booth.
I try to protest. “I’m sure that’s way too much—”
“Peg’s an old friend of yours?” I nod, and he continues. “We’ll give her a special tip then.”
Moments later, we’re on my beautiful beach. It’s cold, and I’m enveloped in fleece, hanging on his arm as the waves pound against the shore. It’s windy, and my hair pushes hard away from my face.
“Yesterday, I told you about Sloan.” I pull him down to sit beside me on the cool sand. “Tell me about Allison.”
His expression changes, and for a moment I think he’s going to find that one thing he’ll say No to me on. But he doesn’t. “Why?”
Shrugging, my hands are in my lap. “I love you. It’s an enormous part of your history…” I look out at the waves. The white breakers hit the sand with such force, spray shoots straight up into the wind before it’s whipped back out toward the ocean. “Whenever I visit your place, and there are no mementos of your life together, I can’t help wondering why.”
“I put the pictures away when she died. I guess I’ve never thought about taking them out again.”
“How did you meet her?”
He looks down then puts an arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer to him. “We went to high school together.”
A knot forms in my throat. It’s silly to feel insecure about a memory, but I need to know his past. “Did you date in high school?
He nods. “She waited for me when I did my first tour in the Gulf. The war broke out, and they all tied the yellow ribbons around the trees…”
“I’m so sorry.” Bringing up the subject suddenly feels like the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
But he catches my face and turns it back to his. “Hey,” his voice is a whisper. “I can talk about her with you. I never could with anyone else, but with you it’s different.”
“How?” I’m wondering if he can ever love me as much as someone he grew up with, someone he’d planned a life with. A woman who’d waited for him to come home, tied ribbons around oak trees for him.
A woman who’d loved him as much as I do.
“Because when Allison died, I gave up. I was so angry. I hated people… God, country, everything that had stolen the time we should’ve had together. The family we might’ve had. The family I thought I’d never have.”
Tears are in my eyes. I love this man, and even as he’s telling me about the broken dreams he had with another lover, it twists pain in my chest to think he felt such loss. “Oh, Derek. I’m so sorry.”
To my surprise, though, his voice is optimistic. “Stop.” He catches me around the waist, pulling me onto his lap. His hands are at my neck, and his thumbs sweep the tears from my cheeks almost as fast as his lips smooth them. “Please don’t cry. I know… what happened was unfair. I spent so many years bitter about it.”
Nothing seems right to say, so I only nod, looking down.
“Melissa, listen to me. You were… you are something I thought I’d never have. And our baby…” He pulls me closer, and he’s holding my neck with his head resting above my heart. “You helped me forgive the past and find peace. I love you so much. Why do you think I’m so hell bent on protecting you?”
I understand what he’s saying. It’s beautiful, and it mirrors the hope he gave me that short week in the desert. “I can’t bear thinking of how you suffered, losing her like that.”
“During that time we were apart—the time before you came to me with what Sloan had done, when I was only waiting, hoping you felt the same—I realized love isn’t something you can give away or shut off when it doesn’t work out. When love is taken away, it creates a vacuum that has to be filled with new love. You were a gift I wasn’t looking for, a gift I didn’t deserve, and maybe that’s why you’re so precious to me. You’re my second chance… and you gave me a second chance. Twice.”
My arms are hugged between us, and I slide my hands up to hold his face. “You’ve never told me this before.”
“I don’t want you to be threatened by my past.” He turns his head to kiss my palm. “You’re strong and beautiful, and it’s what I love about you. I can’t wait to see what our future will be.”
His words wash away my fears in a flood of understanding. He said exactly what I needed to know. Our love isn’t a competition. There are no ghosts lurking in the background, only memories. Some are good, some bad, but we’re something new. We’re building our future together, and in my heart, I know it’s right, because as much as I love him, I would never want him to go through life alone, and I know anyone who felt the way I do about him would say the same.
“I want to go to Baltimore with you.” I don’t have to think about it. “We shouldn’t be apart anymore.”
“No. I want you to stay here. Elaine can stay with you and—”
“Sloan doesn’t scare me. He doesn’t own me, and he can’t win—”
“Anything with the power to take you away from me scares me.”
I’m shocked by his answer. Derek isn’t supposed to be afraid of anything. “Nothing is taking me away from you.”
He catches both my hands in his. “I won’t risk you or the baby being hurt. We’ll end the long distance arrangement after we finish this job.”
“How long?” After all he just said to me, I feel our pending separation more acutely than ever.
“A week? Two tops, and I’ll keep in touch with you the entire time.”
“Two weeks? That’s longer than we’ve spent apart since Christmas.”
“Believe me. I’ll be doing everything in my power to make it end sooner.” His phone buzzes, and when he looks at the face, he starts to rise. “It’s Patrick. We’ve got to get moving.”
Tears heat my eyes as I follow him back toward my house. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together until he’s away. “It hurts more than ever this time.” My voice is soft, and I’m fighting as hard as I can. It’s difficult between my fears for him and what he just shared—and a healthy dose of pregnancy hormones. Still, I don’t want his last sight of me to be crying.
I follow him back to my bedroom, where he stops and hugs me close. My face is against his chest, and his fingers thread into my hair at the base of my neck. Several seconds pass and we only hold each other, sharing our breath, melting together. Another buzz from his damn phone, and he releases me.
Quickly he pushes his clothes into his duffel and takes the keys. In the kitchen he stops and pulls me close again. “I promise not to prolong this.” Turning me to the side, he puts a large hand over my tiny baby bump. “Love you,” he whispers, and I catch his cheek, guiding his lips to mine.
I’m off the floor in his embrace. Mouths open, tongues unite, I’m kissing him like he’s headed into battle, which in a sense he is. My only comfort is Patrick’s promise to have his back.
Another buzz, and I almost forget I’m on Team Patrick now. “I don’t want you to go.” I whimper.
“I know.” He sets me down and gives me a peck on the nose, another on the forehead as he inhales deeply. “I love your scent.”
“I love you.”
“Love you more.”
And with that, he’s gone.
Chapter 9: Not the Good Guys
Derek
Baltimore is cold and windy when we arrive. Patrick’s booked us three rooms in the Four Seasons on Harbor East—perfect for our setup, and close to potential hook-up locations. I’ve promised Melissa to make this happen as quickly as possible, but the truth is, we’ve got to establish ourselves in this location, make a plan, and scout the best place for the ultimate encounter.
Toni arrived the night before, and she’s asked to go by Star Brandon again for this gig. Seems that’s her go-to alias. We meet at the bar for our first planning session.
“You don’t think Star sounds too… hooker-ish?” Patrick is frowning as he studies the dr
ink menu.
Toni… or Star is wearing a cream, Calvin Klein dress that hugs her slim body and ends mid-thigh. Her long hair is now wavy and colored light brown, and she’s wearing about eighty percent less makeup than at the Skinniflute. Light-brown eyeliner and mascara, pale pink lips. I hate to admit it, but she does resemble Melissa. She’s hot.
“You fell for it.” Her mouth is the only thing that gives her away—and her husky smoker’s voice.
“You were also a blonde.” Patrick laughs and has the decency to appear ashamed of himself.
I lift the tumbler of Scotch I ordered. “You’re going to have to fix your delivery to catch Sloan’s interest.”
Instantly, her voice turns soft and high, slightly breathy. “My delivery? Is this what you mean?” She blinks up at me with doe eyes.
“Shit,” I sip the beverage. “I don’t get to say this very often, but Patrick was right. You’re good.”
She smiles and lifts the vodka she ordered, holding it out to clink my glass. “Trust me, big boy. I’ll nail this bastard for you.”
“That’s the only reason I’m here.” I give her tumbler a bump.
Patrick lifts his drink off the bar and takes her elbow. “Let’s find a place where we won’t be overheard.”
In a corner booth near the back of the hotel bar, we group close together to strategize. “Bennett is keeping tabs on Sloan, putting together a schedule of his week, his favorite haunts.”
“Why am I here?” Star’s watching me. “I mean, what reason do I give for being in the city?”
Fuck, she’s smart. “I can tell you’ve done this before. What are you comfortable doing? What’s familiar?”
“Patrick fell for me being a temp. I could say I’m with Contemporary Staffing?”
My partner leans back to sip his drink. “Is that classy enough for our guy?”
Thinking about what I know, I study the table. “It’s probably the best thing. It’s why you need extra money. Perhaps you’ve come up from DC?”
“Where I was shagging a senator.” Her dark eyes twinkle, and I’m mildly disturbed that her alibi is so believable.