In Protective Custody

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In Protective Custody Page 12

by Beth Cornelison


  Max sat up, swinging his legs to the floor, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. Not bad.

  Hell.

  Try fantastic. Incredible. Earth-shaking. Her greedy kisses hadn’t said not bad. Her beaded nipples hadn’t said not bad. Who was she kidding with her—

  “Max?” The edge of concern in her tone cut through his reverie.

  He turned toward her. “Yeah?”

  Laura bit her lip and furrowed her brow as she stared intently at the bed. “I think…it would be wise…if we didn’t…” She paused, obviously searching for the most tactful word. But he knew what she was going to say.

  They had no business fooling around, not with the threat of danger hovering over them. He couldn’t allow himself the distraction. He needed to concentrate on keeping Elmer safe, staying alert and defending them. He needed a long-range plan now that they’d reached the mountain hideout.

  If he’d been thinking with his brain instead of another part of his anatomy, he’d have already posed the same warning to her. Hell, he’d never have kissed her at all if he’d been using his head. “I know. You’re right. Absolutely right.”

  A sexual fling was not in his game plan, not with so much at stake. The fact that Laura had been the one to sober to that reality first stung his conscience. He had to do better. He couldn’t let Emily or Elmer down.

  Her eyes glittered as she raised her gaze to him. “It’s just that I can’t—”

  He lifted his hand to cut her off. “Say no more. I understand. We need to stick to a strictly hands-off policy. Agreed?”

  Her gaze lingered a moment longer, and he felt it all the way to his bones. Was that regret he saw in her eyes?

  “Agreed.” She stood and crossed the room to get a diaper from Elmer’s bag.

  Hands off. Period. End of discussion.

  So why did he still feel so tense and unsettled about it? As though he’d lost an argument rather than winning her agreement?

  Restless, Max got up and began rummaging the shelves in the kitchenette area of the large room. He’d passed hungry hours ago and bordered now on famished. Canned vegetables, tuna, a jar of peanuts, probably rancid by now. Nothing for breakfast, but he wouldn’t be choosy. Selecting a can of sliced carrots, he dug through a drawer of utensils until he found a handheld can opener.

  “Whatcha got?” she asked, looking up from her diapering duties.

  “Carrots. Want some?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “For breakfast?”

  “We also have peas and corn.”

  “You’re not even going to heat it up?”

  “How? No power yet.” Max took another large bite.

  She nodded. “Oh, right. But cold?”

  “A man’s gotta eat.”

  Walking to the kitchenette area, she glanced over his shoulder into the open cabinet. “Cold vegetables is all we have?”

  “There’s tuna, too.”

  “Ugh. I’d say a trip to that little store you mentioned last night is our first order of business today. Even before power.”

  As if he understood what she’d said, Elmer voiced his complaint. Long and loud.

  “Aw, sweetie, you can have breakfast. It’s just us big people who need food.” Laura hurried over to the bed, scooped Elmer into her arms, then dug in the diaper bag for more formula.

  Max shoved away from the counter where he was propped, setting the carrots aside. “How soon can you be ready?”

  Laura glanced down at her day-old, sleep-wrinkled clothes. “Let me change. I’ll be back in a flash.”

  Stepping up to him, she handed Elmer off. “Can you fix his formula?”

  “Of course.” Being passed to his uncle seemed to upset Elmer even more. He crumpled his face and shrieked his displeasure. Max sighed. “But hurry just the same.”

  After retrieving from the car the grocery sack with the only clean clothes she had left—an inexpensive sweat suit she’d purchased the first night—Laura headed into the bathroom to change. She’d found a hair band in the console between the seats and used it to pull her hair back into a ponytail. Conditioner to tame her hair topped her list for the general store.

  When she walked out of the bathroom, she discovered Max had put Elmer, still crying, into his car seat and had lathered his face to shave. Using a shiny pot as a mirror, he’d finished half his face with a disposable razor and was already bleeding from several nicks.

  “The bathroom is free if you want that mirror.”

  “What I want is my electric razor. But thanks.” He shoved the pot out of the way and stalked toward the bathroom. He hitched a thumb toward Elmer. “See if you can calm him down. Nothing I’ve tried works.”

  “Come here, darlin’,” she cooed as she lifted Elmer from his seat. “Did he burp for you? He could have air in his tummy.”

  Max scowled. “No. Damn it, how am I gonna remember all this stuff?”

  She smiled at him. “Practice.” Putting the baby on her shoulder, she walked slowly around the main room, rubbing Elmer’s back, and took in the details that had been hidden by the darkness when they arrived.

  Everything but the bathroom and a walk-in closet was encompassed in the one large room. She took particular note of the wooden rocking chair with a dark green fringed afghan draped over the back. It looked about as uncomfortable as the wood-framed sofa with thin green cushions, but it would be useful in taking care of Elmer. The chair and couch faced a large natural stone fireplace, an asset if every night turned out to be as cold as last night. Assuming they found some firewood.

  The decor was overwhelmingly masculine, but a few feminine touches graced the room, as well. The navy and green plaid curtains looked to be handmade, the quilt on the bed had a blue floral design, and the dried willow stems in a large vase on the hearth seemed an item a woman—his friend’s wife, perhaps?—had added for a more homey atmosphere.

  “When we get down the mountain, I’ll need to find a phone.”

  She pivoted on the hardwood floor to face Max when he spoke. He stood in the door of the bathroom dabbing his face with a hand towel. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his clean-shaven face. Free of his stubble, he looked even more handsome, more civilized, as if he could put on a red power tie and blend in at a corporate boardroom. Yet his coffee-colored eyes still had a savage intensity that said no office could contain him. She could easily picture him storming into a blazing building, decked out in his firefighting gear, his eyes alive with drive and determination, the challenge of the battle.

  She’d tasted the same intensity in his kiss this morning. Dark, dangerous and oh-so-sexy. Her body grew warm just thinking of the way his lips had commanded hers to respond, the rasp of his two-day beard, the velvety heat of his invading tongue. She’d been crazy to let things get out of hand, but his kiss had been so powerfully seductive, so completely mesmerizing. Ignoring the whisper of her conscience had been easy with her body screaming for more of the ecstasy he offered.

  “I need to call the hospital to check on Emily’s condition.”

  His voice brought her out of her introspection. She nodded. “Okay. Want to use my cell phone?”

  He smiled but shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve never been able to get a cell phone signal up here. I’ll just find a pay phone when we go to the store.”

  Max glanced at Elmer, squalling pitifully on Laura’s shoulder, and she knew from the softening of his expression that he was remembering why he was going to so much trouble. For his sister.

  At that moment, Elmer belched loudly. Max arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Was that the kid?”

  Laura giggled. “It sure wasn’t me!”

  “Attaboy!” he said, laughing. The humor that lit Max’s eyes was startling, breathtaking.

  “Well, I’m ready to go if you are. I think that belch means Elmer’s ready now, too.” She poked her arm through the straps of the diaper bag.

  Max strode across the floor to the nightstand, where he picked up the handgun.r />
  Laura shuddered.

  He tucked the gun in the waist of his jeans, the humor gone from his eyes. “Now I’m ready.”

  Chapter 10

  Parson’s General Store could have starred in an old Western movie, except that it was nestled in a forested valley of the Smoky Mountains instead of a dusty desert town. Max had frequented the small, family-operated general store on previous trips and was familiar with the owners and their wares. The clapboard house served as the Parson family residence as well as the mercantile.

  As they climbed out of the car and headed up the front steps, a cat napping in the sunshine got up and trotted over to meet them. Laura tucked Elmer close to her chest with one arm and crouched down to scratch the black-and-white feline’s head.

  “Aren’t you friendly?” she cooed to the cat, who rubbed against her legs and responded with a chirplike meow. “See the kitty, Elmer? Nice kitty.”

  Max smiled, not at all surprised that Laura’s soft heart extended to animals, as well.

  The elderly store owner appeared at the door and greeted Max. “That’s our resident mouser. Name’s Ajax. In human years, he’s got me beat by a good five years, but he still acts like a kitten.”

  Laura tipped a grin to the man as she stood. “He makes a fine welcoming committee, too.”

  The older gentleman laughed. “That he does! Please come in.”

  Max and Laura entered to the accompaniment of a jingling bell, and the man’s wife added her warm welcome. The bluegrass twang of a dulcimer, the stringed instrument indigenous to the Smoky Mountains, wafted from a radio at the front counter.

  Mrs. Parson’s attention immediately went to the baby.

  “Oh, gracious! What have we here?” The woman’s face lit with a thousand-gigawatt smile. “May I?” she asked, holding her arms out to take the baby from Laura.

  Laura’s gaze flicked to Max, the question in her eyes obvious. He nodded, and she reluctantly passed the baby into the older woman’s arms. “We need formula. Do you carry any?”

  “Certainly, dear. Aisle two. Diapers and lotion are there, too.” The older woman clucked over Elmer like a mother hen, and while Laura headed down aisle two for the formula, Max began filling a basket with other essentials.

  The hardwood floorboards creaked as he made his way up and down the rows of canned vegetables and boxed cereal. The mellow scent of fresh coffee filled the air, along with the musty smell of old wood and mildew. Dust motes danced in the rays of early morning sunshine that streamed in though the large front window as he meandered through the cozy store. When he reached the back aisle, he found a display of hunting supplies and hesitated. He hadn’t brought from his house any extra cartridges for his rifle or the Glock. There hadn’t been time.

  Grabbing a couple of boxes of the right cartridges for his rifle, he moved on down the row. Better safe than sorry.

  When he took his items to the front counter, a boy in his late teens met him at the register. “Will this be all, sir?”

  Max sized the teen up. The kid was the Parsons’ grandson, if he remembered correctly. With weeks of heavy labor, moving stock for his grandparents, along with the normal teenage flood of hormones, the kid’s legs and shoulders had grown man-sized since Max’s last visit. And Max liked his manners.

  “No, I’m paying for Laura’s things, too.” He nodded toward the shelf where Laura studied the different flavors of homemade jellies, apple cider and the Indian crafts made in the nearby Cherokee settlement.

  “I just can’t believe how quickly your wife got back her pretty figure.” Mrs. Parson’s voice drew his attention.

  “Pardon?”

  “Well, your baby couldn’t be more than a couple of weeks old, but look how trim and beautiful she looks already!”

  The older woman handed Elmer to him. “Why, when I had my babies, it took me months to lose those unsightly pounds, and with the last one, well, I never did.” She chuckled and clucked her tongue again.

  Max looked over at Laura. The blue sweat suit she’d donned that morning did little to disguise her womanly curves. The material hugged her full breasts, slender waist, and subtly rounded hips. Oh, yeah, trim and beautiful. He remembered the feel of those lush curves pressed against him, and his body pulsed. Her breasts filled his hands perfectly, and the memory of her nipples’ response to his touch pushed him to the edge.

  Easy, Caldwell!

  The boy behind the register cut an interested look toward Laura, too, and his eyebrows rose.

  Max tensed, seeing the male interest in the kid’s expression as his gaze raked over Laura. He didn’t like the notion of the kid, or any man for that matter, ogling Laura. He nailed the teen with a glare. He had no use for a punk drooling over his woman. He didn’t stop to consider why he thought of Laura as his woman.

  Max cleared his throat, and when the boy met his hard stare, the teen blushed and looked away.

  “When my wife is finished shopping, you can add her things to my bill.” His unspoken message was clearly received. By the teenager and by Laura. Laura was his, and any man who trespassed on his domain had better look out.

  The boy nodded nervously and gulped, “Yes, sir.”

  Laura turned and opened her mouth as if to deny being married to him but seemed to think better of it. She locked gazes with Max, and he knew from the fire that lit her eyes, the slight tremor that shook her, that she was remembering their encounter that morning, as well. He could think of little else himself, though he’d tried.

  Tearing his gaze away, he turned to Mrs. Parson. “Is there a pay phone nearby that I can use?”

  “Surely is, dear.” She ambled to the front window and aimed a finger down the street. “Right at the corner there, by the gas station.”

  “Thank you.”

  Laura put her basket of items on the counter, and when she reached for her purse, Max whisked out his wallet.

  He handed her the baby and gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I’ve got it, honey. Did you find everything you needed?”

  She blinked at him and hesitated before answering. “Uh, yeah, sugar bear, I think so.”

  Sugar bear?

  Heat crept to Max’s cheeks, and he scowled at her.

  With a sassy grin, she flounced out of the store, twitching her hips as she waltzed out the door. “Bye, Ajax,” she called to the cat now perched on the steps.

  Sugar bear. Sheesh.

  Max chuckled to himself as he paid their bill. The little devil. He’d get her back for that one.

  Max seemed solemn as they drove back to the cabin. Laura sat in the backseat so she could hold Elmer’s bottle for him as they rode. Max had been fine earlier, even giving her a sly smile when he came out of the store. Then he’d made his phone call to check on Emily, and he’d returned to the car with a worried face. He’d brooded ever since.

  She didn’t want to care about his bad mood, even warned herself of the emotional cost of getting involved with his problems. But she was involved, had been from the moment she’d appointed herself Elmer’s guardian. And if the situation was getting worse, she needed to know.

  After several minutes of his silence, she mustered the nerve to breach the quiet. “You seem upset. Did you get bad news about Emily?”

  “Hmm? Oh, uh…no. Not exactly bad news. Just not good news, either. She’s not making any progress.” He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should be there. I hate not being there for her.”

  She admired his devotion to Emily and couldn’t deny the spark of jealousy toward the sister who had Max’s loyalty and dedication. She hadn’t had that kind of family bond since her mother had died.

  Turning her gaze toward the baby, she studied the way his eager mouth tugged at the nipple of his bottle. She stroked the black peach fuzz on his head and dabbed at the dribble of formula that leaked from the corner of his mouth.

  He has fingernails.

  When she lifted his hand for a closer look at his minute fingernails, his tiny fingers s
queezed around her thumb. Her heart gave a jolting ka-thump, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. A smile tugged the corner of her mouth while mist filled her eyes.

  Elmer was simply perfect. Perfect innocence. Perfect trust. Perfect heartache waiting to happen. But how could she deny this sweet baby the love he needed? The warmth, protection and security his own mother couldn’t give him now?

  Laura tugged her finger free and pulled the emptied bottle from his mouth. He smacked his lips and puckered his forehead in a scowl far too serious for an infant. Laura grinned to herself. Elmer had his uncle Max’s scowl.

  Elmer whimpered, his mouth rooting around like a baby bird searching for more food, and Laura gave him her finger to suckle. “Your nephew has quite an appetite.”

  Max met her gaze in the rearview mirror, and some of the darkness lurking there dissipated. “He’s bulking up to play football. Champion quarterback material there.”

  A bittersweet smile ghosted over his lips before he looked back at the road, and a warm tug tightened her chest.

  Clearing her throat, she prompted, “You mentioned a football team you’re involved with earlier….”

  “Yeah. A Pee Wee team for the rec center. It’s where I got my start years ago. I played football all the way through high school and wanted to give something back, so I volunteer as coach to the kindergarten team.” He gave a lopsided grin and chuckled. “The kind of football a five-year-old plays is a different animal than what you see on television. The kids are still learning the basics—and I mean really basic. But you can’t beat their enthusiasm or energy.”

  The warmth that filled his voice when he talked about his Pee Wee team stirred a tender ache in her middle. She continued to watch Max in the mirror, and the next time their eyes met in the reflection, his gaze held something altogether different. Something uncomfortably intimate. Laura tore her eyes away and stared out the window, fighting to settle the rapid tap-tapping of her heartbeat. Distance. Keep your distance.

 

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