In Protective Custody

by Beth Cornelison

  “Uh-oh. I don’t like that look in your eyes.” She tried to smile, but he saw the nervous twitch in her cheek.

  “You asked me last week about my divorce, and I put you off, changed the subject. But you need to know the truth.”

  Her face paled, and he drew a breath to steel himself. “My wife and I divorced because…we couldn’t have a baby. We tried for four years, and she never got pregnant…the natural way.”

  Max rolled onto his side and stroked a hand over Laura’s hip.

  “What…what was the problem? If I can ask.” Her eyes held with his, probed gently for understanding.

  He squeezed her hand, knowing he owed her an explanation but hating how raw this conversation left him. Emotionally eviscerated. “I was.”

  “You?”

  He nodded. “Jennifer and I tried everything to work around the problem. But nothing helped. Our sex became clinical and passionless and stressful. Every month that passed with no results, Jennifer grew to resent me more. It was my fault, my low sperm count that kept her from having the baby she wanted. It started affecting every aspect of our life and…”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, lightly caressing his cheek.

  “When we used clinical methods to get pregnant, she miscarried. We were completely jinxed. The miscarriage almost destroyed her. She asked for a divorce the next week. She’d had enough.”

  He wrapped his fingers around Laura’s hand, and she squeezed back, lending her support.

  “I didn’t fight the divorce. I guess I’d had enough, too.”

  She rolled closer to him, pressed her body against his and lifted her lips to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. For telling me. I know it must be difficult to talk about.”

  “Besides Jennifer and our doctor, you’re the only person who knows. Emily only knew that there was a problem somewhere. I never told her the details.”

  “What about the women since then? Haven’t you dated?”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. He couldn’t get enough of her wavy hair. Of her. “Dates. Only dates. You’re the first woman I’ve made love to since Jennifer. I don’t believe in casual sex. I just wanted you to know that you were safe with me…that you wouldn’t…”

  Laura cocked her head to the side and gave him a measuring scrutiny. “It’s the wrong time of the month anyway. That’s why I didn’t say anything before.”

  She slid her body along his, her breasts grazing his chest and her thigh stroking him. “But since protection’s not an issue…and Elmer’s still asleep…we could—” She nibbled at his lip, and he growled his pleasure.

  He captured her lips and lost himself in the sweetness and trust she offered. Their lovemaking was slower this time and far more intimate. He explored every inch of her body and taught her what touches pleasured him the most. And after they rose together to another startling climax, they slept, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 16

  “Thirteen slant blue. Hike!”

  Laura tossed the football backward between her legs then jogged across the leaf-strewn yard. She inhaled the cool, woodsy air and smiled. The crisp autumn Sunday was perfect for tag football, even if she and Max were the only two playing. Especially since they were the only two playing.

  “Go long!” Max waved Laura farther across the lawn, but she stopped.

  “Just throw the ball, hotshot!”

  He did. A perfect, arcing pass right to her chest. She closed her arms around the ball and squealed her delight. “I caught it!”

  “Good job. Now run,” he called to her.

  “I don’t wanna run. I’m pooped!”

  “If you don’t run, I’m gonna tackle you.” He raised his arms and started jogging toward her.

  Flashing him a sultry grin, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe I want you to tackle me.”

  With a long step he reached her, wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her off her feet. Laura yelped, chuckled.

  Max twisted as they fell and took the brunt of the fall, cushioning her as they tumbled to the ground. Then he rolled her to the bottom and pressed her into the soft grass with his warm body.

  Images of their lovemaking sprang immediately to mind. I don’t believe in casual sex.

  Did that mean that what had happened between them had meant something important to Max? With every fiber of her being, she wanted to believe that their joining had moved and changed him the way it had her. She’d taken the leap of faith, dived headlong into this physical relationship knowing her heart could never survive unscathed.

  Until she could be sure how he felt toward her, however, she tried to keep things simple. She didn’t press him for a commitment, for any pledges of his love.

  “Lesson number one in football,” he said, “If you ever get the ball, run. Even my five-year-olds know that!”

  “Right, right. If you get the ball, you run.”

  “Head for your goal line and don’t let anything stop you. You’re in the game to win. Got it?” He tweaked her nose.

  “I got it, coach.”

  She raised her lips to his for a light kiss, but Elmer’s sleepy cry alerted them that he’d roused from his nap. Max groaned but didn’t move.

  “Duty calls.” She flattened her hands on his chest and shoved.

  “I’ll get him.” He caught her arm and turned her back for a quick kiss. “We might as well get our own dinner now, too. What have we got in the cabinet?”

  “How about vegetable soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  She followed Max to the front porch, where they’d moved Elmer’s homemade bed while they played football, and watched him carefully lift Elmer out. He supported the baby’s head, cradled him lovingly on his shoulder. He soothed the infant’s crying with slow, comforting strokes and murmured reassurances—a far cry from the jerky, anxious way he’d handled the baby when she’d first met him.

  Max had learned a lot about caring for a baby in the two weeks plus they’d been together. Like any new father would.

  She sighed. He could easily handle Elmer without her help now. So why was she still here?

  Easy. She didn’t want to leave. She’d grown attached to her faux family. But she had to face reality. Max had never said he loved her, never mentioned a future together. Every day she stayed, she fell deeper into the morass of complicated emotions that would be her undoing when she parted. If she were smart, she’d cut her losses now and head back home.

  But not just yet. Please, just let me have one more day.

  Elmer seemed particularly cranky that night.

  “Let me see if I can calm him.” Max held out his hands to take the baby from Laura.

  As she passed the child to him, he looked into her eyes and saw the same conflicting emotions in her expression that swirled inside him. Concern and compassion for the baby warred with frustration. And with eagerness to get the infant to sleep so that they could pick up where they’d left off that afternoon.

  It had only been a matter of hours since he’d last made love to Laura, but his body ached for her as if it had been years.

  Elmer quieted down a bit, sucking on his fist.

  “Get his binkie for me, will ya?” he said.

  “His binkie?” Laura smiled, and a wave of hot desire crashed over him.

  Jeez, he’d survived three years of abstinence in relatively good form, but just a little bit of Laura had turned him into a sex addict. Correction, a Laura addict. His obsession wasn’t just about sex, though their lovemaking could bring a man to his knees. No, he couldn’t get his fill of the contentious, affectionate, beautiful angel who had saved him from certain disaster with his nephew.

  He lifted his eyebrow. “Isn’t that what you call his pacifier?”

  “Yeah, but I never heard you call it that. You sound really cute when you talk that way.” She waggled her eyebrows at him and curled her mouth in a teasing grin.

  The effect she had on
him was outrageous. Without trying, she’d touched a place inside him he’d believed long dead, made him truly happy. Yet while he was the happiest he’d been in years, he also knew it wouldn’t last.

  He had to let Laura go. He had to free her to find the man who could give her the family, children and home she deserved. Exactly what he wanted desperately to do for her but couldn’t.

  That truth tore him apart, but it was for the best. The best for Laura. He, on the other hand, would go crazy without her.

  “You seem to have acquired the magic touch, Mr. Caldwell.” Laura’s voice called him out of his thoughts. “I don’t think the binkie will be necessary.”

  “The touch?” He could think of several places he’d love to touch her right now, but her gaze was on the baby. She meant something different.

  Laura nodded toward Elmer, who’d dozed off on his shoulder. “He seems to prefer you over me today. Should I be jealous?”

  “If he’s anything like his mother, he’ll have changed his mind by morning.” Max eased toward the baby’s bed, crouched and slowly lifted the sleeping infant off his shoulder. Elmer peeped then found his thumb and drifted back to sleep.

  “That’s my boy. Give Uncle Max a couple of uninterrupted hours with Aunt Laura, and I’ll buy you the NFL team of your choice.”

  Laura grinned. “A whole football team. I’m impressed. Am I worth that much?”

  “Baby, you’re worth that and more. Come ’ere, gorgeous.”

  With a titillating grin, she glided into his arms.

  He wouldn’t think about having to give her up. Not right now. For the moment, he would fill himself up with her sweet essence, her generous heart, her soul-deep kisses.

  But Tuesday was a different matter. Charles’s bank would be open, and he’d wire Max the money he’d requested. By Tuesday night, Max planned to be out of the cabin and in a hotel somewhere, possibly in another state.

  As much as it would kill him to say goodbye, Tuesday was the logical time to send Laura home. He had one day left with her. He intended to make Monday count.

  The first crash woke them. By the second crash, it was too late.

  Anthony Rialto’s thug splintered the wood around the dead bolt with the ax Max had left by the firewood and broke the door open.

  Max knifed upright in the bed. Early morning sunlight spilled in the yawning hole from the chilly outdoors.

  Icy fingers of cold air slipped around Max like the hand of the Grim Reaper. A chilling dread sliced through the cobwebs of sleep and burrowed to his bones.

  He tensed as the beefy hitman stepped into the cabin, his gun ready. Laura sat up in the bed with a gasp, and the hitman’s weapon swung toward her.

  Max’s blood ran cold. He had to do something to minimize the risk to Laura. He had to protect her at all costs.

  Even his own life.

  While Laura clutched the sheet to her chest, her gaze frozen on the thug’s weapon, Max dived for his Glock on the nightstand. But the gun lay just beyond his reach.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you, Caldwell. Theo has orders to shoot if you so much as sniff.”

  The flinty voice stopped Max. He turned to find Anthony Rialto standing just behind his henchman. Theo now aimed his weapon at Max. With a grave, unflinching glare on Rialto, Max slowly withdrew his hand, his palm up.

  Anthony moved toward the nightstand and picked up the Glock. “That’s better. Now, where’s my grandson?”

  “How did you find us?” Max asked in a low, even tone.

  Anthony smirked. “We knew a loyal family man like you would be calling to check up on Emily, check in with friends and work. So we tapped a few key phones—your ex-wife’s, your fire station’s, your pal Charles’s—”

  Max gritted his teeth. Hell. Of course.

  “I see you know where I’m going with this.” Anthony grinned smugly. “When you told Charles where to wire you money, the general store near his cabin, it was as simple as searching your house to locate this address book.” Rialto waved a small brown leather book Max recognized as his. “We entered the information for ‘Charles’s hunting cabin’ at Mapsearch dot com and bingo. We had directions where to find you. Now, where’s the baby?”

  Elmer.

  The baby was defenseless, and Max would be damned if he’d let Rialto get his hands on Emily’s son.

  He cursed silently, torn between his loyalty to his nephew and to Laura. Could he possibly protect them both?

  Rialto scanned the room, his gaze stopping on the homemade cradle. With a nod, he directed Theo to check for the baby.

  Laura gasped. She lunged from the bed toward the baby. “No! Don’t touch him!”

  Shivering in her nightshirt, she threw her body over the top of the basket where Elmer cried. The glare she gave Theo reflected her fear but also a bold challenge. Like a mama bear protecting her cub.

  Emotions swelled in Max’s chest. Pride in her valor. Admiration for her fighting spirit. Fear for her life.

  Theo glowered at Laura. “Outta the way, blondie.”

  “No! You can’t have him,” she growled.

  “Get the baby,” Rialto repeated tightly.

  Theo grabbed Laura around the waist and thrust her aside with a vicious shove. She stumbled and fell against the cast-iron fireplace tools on the hearth with a loud clatter.

  Protective rage erupted in Max. The bastard! Nobody treated a woman that way around him. Max charged from the bed toward Theo. He tackled the thug shoulder-first, hitting Theo low and hard the way he taught his players. Together, he and Theo collapsed against the rocking chair, narrowly missing Elmer’s bed. In his peripheral vision, he saw the thug’s gun skitter across the floor.

  Theo’s thickly muscled torso twisted under Max, and before Max had recovered his balance, Theo slammed a rocklike fist into his jaw. A strange buzzing filled his ears, along with Laura’s scream. Elmer’s startled cry followed.

  Despite the pain ricocheting through his skull, Max readied himself quickly to stave off another blow. He couldn’t fail Emily. Couldn’t.

  He set his feet wide and shifted his weight to brace himself. A cold draft from the open door reminded him he wore only his boxers and T-shirt, but he refused to let his dishabille be a disadvantage.

  When Theo swung his arm at him, Max ducked. Channeling his power to his legs, Max lunged up and kicked at Rialto’s thug in the same swift movement. He landed a solid blow to Theo’s gut. The henchman grunted and doubled over, holding his ribs.

  Max sensed more than saw Laura easing across the floor toward Theo’s weapon. A flash of fear crawled up his spine. If Rialto saw her going for the gun…

  He had to keep attention away from her. But where was Rialto? The man was too quiet. Max cut a glance across the room toward Emily’s father-in-law.

  When their eyes met, Rialto gave him a smug smile and raised Max’s Glock.

  Max’s heart stilled. He could go head to head with the beefy thug, but no man could compete with a 9mm bullet.

  “Max, look out!” Laura screamed.

  He spun back toward Theo—just in time to receive the fist that came rocketing toward him. Again, blinding pain ripped through him. Max blocked the next punch, grabbing Theo’s wrist and twisting the man’s arm backward. Throwing his weight against his attacker, Max knocked Theo to the floor. The henchman’s head hit the stone hearth with a heavy thud.

  Following him down, Max hit the ground with a bone-jarring crash. The crack of gunfire boomed through the cabin, and a bullet splintered the wood floor by Max’s head.

  Quickly, he rolled to his back and found Rialto poised across the room with the Glock aimed at him.

  “Theo, I’ll handle Caldwell. Get the baby, damn it!” Rialto shouted.

  The thug didn’t respond, didn’t move. One down.

  Elmer released a frightened-sounding shriek.

  Rialto stalked closer, narrowing a menacing gaze on Max. “I’m sick of your games, Caldwell. The baby belongs to me.”

  Max
tasted something metallic and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. “The baby belongs with Emily. She’s his mother.”

  Max glimpsed Laura inching across the floor. He didn’t dare glance her way for fear of calling attention to her movement. Instead, he held Rialto’s hard stare with his own as the man approached. Max waited.

  Rialto darted a glance toward the baby’s bed where Elmer cried pitifully. And Max seized his chance.

  In one fluid motion, he grabbed Theo’s gun from the floor and swung it toward Rialto. “Don’t touch that boy.”

  Rialto cast Max a condescending glare. “That boy is Joe’s heir. Someday he’ll inherit the family business.”

  Max rose slowly to his feet, holding Rialto at bay with Theo’s gun. “Do you really want him raised in your world of drugs and violence? Is that what you want for your grandson?”

  Anthony scowled. “I can put the world at his feet.”

  “Like you did for Joe?” Max crept toward Elmer’s bed. “Joe’s dead. Murdered.”

  Rialto stiffened. Color suffused his face.

  “Damn you!” the man shouted, raising the Glock.

  Laura struck.

  With the iron fire poker clutched in her hands, she swung at Rialto’s outstretched arm.

  Anthony fired.

  Max dived for the basket where Elmer cried. He heard a bullet pock the floor.

  With an upward swing, Laura struck Rialto in the jaw, and the older man stumbled backward. She scrambled around Rialto and hurried to the baby’s bed.

  Tossing the fire tool out of Rialto’s reach, she scooped Elmer into her arms. Tears filling her own eyes, Laura nestled the crying infant to her breast. “I’m here, sweetie. I’ve got you. Shh.”

  Placing himself between Laura and Rialto, Max kept Theo’s gun pointed at the drug lord. “Easy, old man!” He panted for a breath. “I know you’d love to kill me…but I doubt you want to hurt your grandson in the process.”

  Rialto quivered with rage and growled his frustration. “Give me that baby!”

  Max scoffed. “Go to hell.”