by Angela Evans
“It’s not okay!” she whispered viciously, turning in her seat to glare at him. “I left my child alone so I could roll around naked on a beach with you, and now he’s gone!”
This time, he let her pull her hand away. She needed some space, which was understandable, but he wasn’t about to let her blame herself for this.
“You did not leave him alone. You left him with his grandmother, who is perfectly capable of taking care of him. The blame for this does not belong to you or to me.”
He watched carefully to make sure she’d listened to him before he made a left turn at the stoplight and headed toward her house. They’d stopped by earlier so she could change clothes after leaving the bakery. Her place was small but charming. It could use a man’s touch though. He’d noticed the gutters were loose, and there was a loose banister on the front steps. Nothing major, just things he would want to take care of if he lived there.
He suspected that Leslie spent so much time keeping their heads above water financially and the boys out of trouble that she hadn’t even noticed that things could use a coat of paint or needed to be tightened up. He remembered watching her on the beach with the boys that first day he’d met her and how they had pushed their limits with her. He wondered if sometimes they pushed it hard enough she simply gave in. They were good kids, but they knew how to work Leslie’s last nerve. They too could benefit from having a man around, but that wasn’t his place to say or even to think. Since he wasn’t looking to become the man in anyone’s life, he wasn’t sure why he was even thinking about it.
But the idea of someone else stepping in and filling the role of husband to Leslie and father to the boys hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, which caught him by surprise. If he wasn’t interested in being the man around, taking care of the house and helping to raise her two rambunctious boys, then he had to accept the idea that someone else would gladly step in and fill that need for all three of them.
Leslie was a great woman and deserved to have someone in her life. Someone to hold her at night the way he’d held her on that lounge chair a few minutes ago. He could still smell her on his skin. No, he definitely didn’t want anyone else making her come apart in his arms or listening to her call his name as she climaxed. Going slow had been damn difficult, until now he’d never yet met a woman who made him want to rush. He hadn’t even slept with her yet and felt more connected to her than he had to anyone in a long time.
They pulled into the driveway, and immediately, Leslie’s mother, Wanda, came rushing out. She looked even more distraught that Leslie did. Connor followed in her wake, looking a little bewildered.
“Did you call the police?” Leslie demanded as soon as her mother was close enough to hear her.
“Yes, they’re on their way. They said that they’ll help us look, just like last time.”
They’d had to call the police before? Leslie hadn’t mentioned that. He’d thought this was a simple case of the boy hiding in a closet and waiting to be found, not actually disappearing out into the streets.
“When you found him before, where was he?” Michael asked.
“Last time, he was at the grade school, hiding behind the playground equipment. The time before that, he was at Mrs. Anderson’s down the street, having cookies,” Leslie rattled off. “She didn’t know he’d taken off. She thought I knew where he was.”
“But Lucas knew that you didn’t.” The boy was five, still too young to know a lot of things, but he obviously knew how to scare the hell out of his mother. “So each time he’s hidden somewhere safe, just somewhere you couldn’t find him, is that right?”
Leslie looked up in surprise. “Yes, I guess that’s right.” She seemed calmer now that she had Connor’s hand in hers, but there was still a panic in her eyes. “We should check at Mrs. Anderson’s house. He likes her, and she always gives him cookies.”
“He won’t be there again, but yes, we should check. He won’t go back to where you found him before. He’ll pick a new hiding place that’s safe, but one you won’t think of right away.” Michal was sure of it. He looked at the older son, who now looked a little sheepish. “When you two play outside, where do you go? The place you go that your mother doesn’t know about and wouldn’t let you go.”
Connor looked at Leslie.
“Don’t look at her, just look at me,” Michael said. “You won’t get into trouble, but you do have to tell us where it is. Right now.” Michael was vaguely aware that he sounded more than a little bit like a caring father, and he had no right to go tossing around phrases like “won’t get into trouble.”
“Down by the storm drain.” Connor pointed toward the end of the street near some trees.
“I told you not to play by that thing. It isn’t safe!” Leslie snapped. “The water can come up quickly and you could get trapped in there!”
“I know, I’m sorry, Mom,” Connor mumbled as he kicked a pebble.
“Show me,” Michael told him and pulled his arm toward the curb.
The four of them walked toward the band of trees at the end of the street where Connor had indicated they played.
When they reached the storm drain, there was only a trickle of water running through the round cement structure that ran under the street and down toward the canal. Michael could see Leslie’s concern though. During a surprise Florida thunderstorm, he had no trouble picturing the drain full of rushing water that would sweep two young boys away.
Michael indicated for everyone else to wait as he walked toward the drain to see what was inside. If there was something bad or if the boy was hurt, he wanted to have a chance to prepare Leslie before she saw it with her own eyes. If the boy was fine, as he suspected would be the case, he wanted a chance to talk to him alone first.
He scaled down the embankment covered in leaves and sticks to the concrete structure that had been designed to keep rushing water from washing away the soil under the street. As quietly as he could, he made his way to the lower ground and squatted to try to see inside the pipe. It was about twelve feet long and four feet high—tall enough for the boys to walk through without any trouble, but Michael’s big frame would make it quite as easily. He didn’t need to worry about crawling inside though.
Lucas was sitting on the ground just outside the pipe, tossing pebbles into the trickle of water running through it. His face was dirty and his shorts were covered in mud and leaves, but he didn’t look hurt. Relief washed over Michael. He wanted to call out to Leslie to let her know Lucas was okay, but he didn’t want to spook the boy and send him running farther into the drain.
“Hi, do you remember me?” Michael said as he got the boy’s attention.
“Yeah, you know my mom.”
“Yeah, I do. I care about her a lot.” Michael surprised himself by admitting that to the boy, but he figured it was harmless. “I was with her when she found out you were missing.”
“Yeah?” The boy’s eyebrows came together in confusion.
“I wonder if you know how much it scares her when you do this? How many things could go wrong that she knows about but you don’t?” Michael sat next to Lucas and tried to remain casual and not let his size intimidate the boy. “Do you ever get really, really scared?”
“I don’t like tunderstorms.”
The boy’s little lisp made the word adorable, but more importantly, that word gave Michael the opening he needed.
A few minutes later, they walked back up the steep ditch. Michael held Lucas’s hand to keep him from falling and the feel of the small, dirty hand in his made his heart do a stutter step that was strange and unfamiliar.
“Oh, Lucas!” Leslie screamed with joy as soon as she saw that Michael wasn’t alone.
She ran to them and scooped Lucas up and spun in a circle, completely ruining her dress in the process—and not caring from the looks of it.
“Are you okay?” She put him down and ran her hands over every inch of Lucas.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Mama,” Lucas declared in
his small voice and wrapped both arms around his mother’s neck. “I won’t do it again, I pwomise.”
Michael smiled in spite of himself. He couldn’t help but place a comforting hand on Leslie’s back as they walked toward the house, where a Mimosa Key police cruiser was arriving. Touching her was becoming his addiction, one he had no intention of trying to kick any time soon.
Chapter Four
Leslie paced with a glass of white wine, wearing her most worn pajama bottoms and tank top. “I can’t believe I did that,” she said for probably the fifteenth time.
“You didn’t do anything!” her mother insisted, as she had for an equal number of times. “You went on a date. That’s all! You’re young. You should find a good man.”
“You sound like Amelia!” Leslie turned and made another trip across the living room rug. “She says I need to get laid, can you believe that?”
Her mother hooted with laughter, slapping her knee. “Oh, that’s the baby talking. Pregnant women say crazy things, but she’s right. You need a man. It’s not good to spend all your time caring for those boys and no time caring for yourself.”
Leslie dismissed her mother’s comment. “I don’t need a man.”
“No, you don’t need one, but you want one. And don’t tell me you don’t. I saw the way you looked at that bodyguard you were with today.” Her mother wiggled her eyebrows ridiculously as she said it. “He’s a fine-looking man.”
There was no arguing with that. Michael was definitely a good-looking man. Good-looking. Sexy. Muscular. Hot. Any other adjective she cared to toss his way would stick.
“So what? He’ll go back to New York soon and that will be the end of that.”
Her mother made a hissing noise as if that was the most ridiculous statement she’d ever heard. “They have these things now called telephones and airplanes and hell, even the Internet!”
With that her mother walked away, leaving Leslie alone with her wine and her thoughts. Inevitably, her mind wandered back to the time they’d spent in the cabana. Her cheeks flushed hot at the memory. What a picture she must have painted, laid out naked on that chaise and begging Michael to touch her. Oh, had he touched her. She set down her wine glass, the drink barely touched, feeling flushed already without the alcohol in her system.
She’d only been with a small handful of men, and none of them compared in any way to Michael Duncan. Before Daniel, there’d been a high school boyfriend. If speed counted for anything, their sex had been great. Then with Daniel, it was always all about the rush of getting to the finish line, spending no time along the way to enjoy what came before the big finish. After Daniel’s death, she’d gone on a couple of dates with a guy and eventually let him take her to bed. That experience had been nondescript. Not bad, not good, just room temperature.
Today she hadn’t even had sex, just foreplay, and she’d experienced more intimacy, more connection, and more raw hunger than she’d ever thought existed. The thought of never experiencing that again left her feeling lost and more alone than she’d felt in a long time.
Michael would be leaving for New York tomorrow, then returning a few days before the wedding. They had a small window of time to explore each other, and today had left her craving more. Like a delicious dessert that made you want seconds. And thirds. The hell with your diet.
She glanced down at her comfortable pajamas. She couldn’t go anywhere like this…or could she? It was late. No one would be up at the resort to see her. Her mother had gone to bed, the boys had been sleeping for hours, and Leslie would be back before morning. The plan took shape in her mind, and for once, she didn’t give herself a chance to second-guess it to death. After scribbling a quick note for her mother, she grabbed her keys, stuck her feet into her favorite flip-flops, and closed the front door silently behind her.
* * *
Michael sat at the desk in his hotel room, the laptop open as he waited for Dani to connect to their Skype call. It was late, and he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was go over security with Dani for the wedding, but she was the client. So he sat there, rubbing his eyes and trying to think of anything but the way Leslie had looked on that lounge chair this afternoon. His head was so far out of the game, it was ridiculous, and if he didn’t pull his shit together, he was going to blow what could the biggest job his agency had ever seen.
“Hello!” Dani sang through his computer speakers.
“Hi, Dani. How are you?” he asked while he wondered how far out of bounds it would be for him to take a sip of the beer sitting next to the computer while they video chatted.
“I’m so stressed out, babe. I need you to tell me everything is all set for the security so it’s one less thing I’ve got to think about.” Her trademark platinum-blond hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail. Her makeup was still perfect, despite the fact it was after midnight in LA.
“You know I’ve got everything covered, but just to make you feel better, I’ll give you the rundown.” Michael pulled out the folder from his briefcase resting at his feet and ran through the details he’d already nailed down. “Basically from the minute you arrive until you leave on your honeymoon, every single second of your day is covered by me or one of my guys.” He dropped the file folder on the desk and eyed the beer bottle again.
“But what about Alec? You didn’t mention anything about his security.” Her perfectly shaped eyebrows were furrowed in a way he could picture her practicing in front of a mirror.
“Who is Alec?” Michael thought he must really be losing it. He had no idea who Alec was or why he was responsible for their security.
“Alec is Baxter’s son from his first marriage.”
Baxter had been married a total of three times. Dani would be his fourth wife.
“I didn’t even know Baxter had a son.” Michael flipped through his notes to see if he’d overlooked a notation, but there wasn’t one. “Did I know I was covering him?”
Dani’s voice cooed through the speakers, “Oh, love, did I forget to mention him?”
Michael knew he hadn’t missed this detail—he never missed any detail. Dani had sandbagged him.
“How old is Alec?” Michael asked, gritting his teeth.
“He’s six, babe. He’s an angel of a child, and Baxter really wants to be a good dad to him now that things are going to settle down.”
By “settling down,” Michael was guessing Dani meant that Baxter’s dad would stop his current wife-of-the-year pattern and let the boy have a stepmother he could actually get to know.
“Okay, I need details on his arrival and where he’s staying. If there’s any other detail you forgot to mention, now would be a good time to send that over too.” Michael didn’t even bother hiding the frustration in his voice.
“Oh, don’t be mad, love, I’ll make it up to you. You know I always do.”
Was she flirting with him? Michael shook his head.
“It’s fine. I’ll handle it like I always do. Just send me the arrival times and room details. I’ll make sure my guys have it covered,” Michael answered.
“Oh, one more thing, love. I want to make sure you’re the one covering me, right? I don’t want anyone else, just you.”
Definitely flirting, which was a first. Michael wondered if she’d been drinking, because they’d worked together for years when they’d both been single and she’d never made any move on him before.
“I always cover you personally.” Michael always took the hardest jobs and covering a diva, pop star celebrity was not the cushy job it sounded like.
“Because I wouldn’t be comfortable with anyone else watching over me.” She pouted into the web cam and leaned forward, putting her cleavage on full display.
“Of course not.” Michael kept his eyes at the top of the screen. No way he was going down that particular rabbit hole. Nothing good would come from failing this test.
“Do you think I’ll make a beautiful bride?” she asked, batting her long false eyelashes into the camera.
“You’re a beautiful woman on any day. I don’t see how you could be anything other than the most beautiful bride your groom has ever seen.” Nicely handled, he thought with a grin. A noise outside his room distracted him for a second. It was after three in the morning, so the only person moving around would either be security, or the person delivering guests their bills.
“Is someone at your door?” Dani asked, noticing his glance toward the room door. “It’s late there, right? Are you being a naughty boy? Did you find some little beach bunny to keep you occupied?” Dani laughed at her own joke.
“No, I don’t know what that noise was. I should go and check it out.” He said in an effort to wrap up this late night call
“Oh, I know—maybe you convinced that adorable mousy little bakery woman to come up to your room? A little local action, huh?”
Dani was going full steam now; there was no stopping her. She was cracking herself up, so Michael let her have her fun. There was no harm in it, and it was easier than trying to shut her up.
“That girl rushing in with her binders and her off-the-rack cotton dress. What a mess.” Dani laughed.
“If you don’t need anything else…” Michael hoped she’d catch the point.
“Oh sure, I’ll let you go have fun with your little mouse.” Dani disconnected the call.
Crossing the room to check through the peephole he didn’t see anything moving outside. He checked the lock and slipped the holster off his shoulder setting the leather and the gun it held on the desk. Michael wiped his hand over his face and stripped his T-shirt off over his head to go take a long overdue shower. Dani might be America’s sweetheart on television, but in real life, she could be a catty witch when she wanted to be. He had no idea what was going on with the flirting. If it was some kind of test, he hoped he had passed because not only did he have no interest in a relationship with Dani, he didn’t need that kind of trouble in his professional life either.