Uncovered: A Hearts of the South story

by Linda Winfree

  “Hey, don’t do that.” Tick curved an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. An image flared in her head, both she and Lee crying their eyes out against Tick’s chest, and a giggle rose in her throat. Tick pressed a fierce kiss to her forehead. “Come on, precious, it’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not.” She clutched at his shirt, trying to stem the tears. “I know he’s unhappy and I can’t figure out what’s wrong or how to help him and nothing I try seems to work—”

  “Sshh.” He held her closer. “Hush. He’s just showing us that he has a healthy dose of that famous temper of yours.”

  She half-laughed, half-sobbed into the warmth of his polo shirt. “That’s his Uncle Vince’s temper. I can control mine.”

  Tick’s chuckle rumbled under her cheek. He pulled back and brushed the tears from her face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Keeping up a steady stream of one-sided conversation with Lee, he disappeared into his study and returned moments later, rolling two pieces of fluorescent orange foam in his palm. “Here.”

  “Ear plugs?” She fixed him with a look. “That’s your answer?”

  “Yes.” He pressed them into her hand and spun her toward their bedroom with a tiny push. “Go get in the tub and soak. Put those in. I’ve got him.”

  She looked at him and the baby, thought about arguing for all of a nanosecond and obeyed.

  How long she floated in silence and hot water in their clawfoot tub, letting the strain and insecurities flow from her body, she wasn’t sure. Eyes closed, she relaxed into the sudsy indulgence.

  Familiar hands settled on her shoulders, and she smiled as he trailed a gentle touch up to pop the plugs free.

  “Hey, precious,” he murmured, nuzzling behind her ear, his deep voice doing the same wicked thing it always did. He massaged a thumb over her shoulder. “Feel better?”

  “Mmm.” She pressed into his touch. “Much.”

  The silence sank in, and she turned her head to look at him where he knelt behind the tub. “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?” His fingers dipped below the suds to caress the side of her breast. He smiled, following the curve of her ear with his mouth.

  “Get him to stop crying.”

  “Magic.” His other hand appeared before her, one of their crystal flutes filled with white wine in his easy grip.

  Somehow she knew it was her favorite pinot grigio, the one her brother Vince always brought her from Europe. “Tick, I can’t drink that.”

  “Yes, you can.” He curved his palm around her breast in a touch both soothing and arousing. “I called Dr. Harper. Only stays in the breast milk for two hours or so after you drink it. Lee takes a bottle tonight, and you express the milk and discard it.”

  He lifted the flute and swallowed, then pressed the spot where his lips had been to her mouth. She took the glass and sipped, letting the tart fruitiness explode on her tongue. His other hand joined the first beneath the water, caressing, stroking, calming.

  And exciting beyond belief.

  She gave herself up to the magical seduction of his touch. “Tick?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What…oh, that feels good.” She sighed and he laughed, the deep sound that kicked off a little thrill of yearning low in her stomach. “What kind of magic?”

  He nipped at her earlobe, a slow, tantalizing scrape of teeth on sensitive skin. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

  She straightened, suds sloshing, and met his dark mirthful eyes. “What did you do to my child?”

  “Our child.” He leaned in to kiss her, and she ducked her head back. “I’m offended, precious. What do you think I did?”

  “Tick.”

  He reached for the wine flute and took another sip. “I called Mama to come get him.”

  “Oh Tick, no. You didn’t. Not tonight, while he’s raising hell.” She slumped, a hand over her eyes. “Now she’s going to think—”

  “She thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread, which he is, and that you’re an excellent mother, which you are.” He pulled her hand away from her eyes. “She’s been dying to have him to herself, and you need a break. Actually, after the day I’ve had, I could use one too. He was already calming down when she got here, he’ll be asleep before she even gets back home and he’s in great hands. So relax, drink your wine and let me win this one, all right, Falconetti?”

  How was she supposed to argue with that? She tangled a hand in his collar and tugged him to her, to take his mouth in a slow, all-out-sex kiss. “Why don’t you come in here and help me relax, Calvert?”

  “Oh no, you don’t.” He eased back, grinning. “It’s been months since I got to take my wife out. I’m going to shower while you make yourself beautiful, which doesn’t require much effort on your part. Troy Lee’s band is playing over at Henry’s tonight. Wear the hooker dress, and we’ll go dancing, the kind that would scandalize my Aunt Maureen.”

  “A waltz would scandalize your Aunt Maureen. Besides, I can’t wear the hooker dress right now, Lamar Eugene.” She gestured at the curve of her cleavage above the water. “Your son has greatly blessed me, and my cups would runneth over.”

  “I don’t care what you wear.” He kissed her. “You’d be sexy as hell in a gunny sack.”

  She sipped her wine as he pulled away and stripped off his shirt before reaching inside the shower stall to start the water. “What did you mean, the day you had?”

  He shucked his slacks and boxer briefs, affording her a view of leanly muscled thighs and calves. She shivered despite the warmth of the water. Amazing how simply seeing him naked still made her all tingly and ready. Maybe Lee spending the night with his grandmother had been a very good idea.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I finally got the whole story out of Madeline.”

  “Really?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah.” He dumped his clothes in the hamper. “And you’re not going to believe this. I’ll fill you in later. Let me tell you, Cait, I did not like figuring out how much you two have in common. Made my skin crawl.”

  “Poor baby.” She smiled and crooked a finger at him. “Come here and I’ll make it better.”

  “No way. Like I don’t know what’s going to happen if I get that close. Now haul your cute little butt out that tub and get dressed. I skipped lunch and I’m starved.”

  “Madeline?”

  Feeling like she was wrapped in layers of warm gossamer, she lifted heavy lids. The bedside lamp cast a golden glow in the room, gilding Ash’s sandy hair as he leaned over her. An irresistible smile curved her mouth. “Hey.”

  He cupped her cheek in one work-roughened hand, his eyes full of affection. “Rested?”

  “Um, yes.” She flopped over to her back, blinking. Dark hovered outside. “What time is it?”

  “About eight.” He trailed a fingertip down her bare shoulder. “You’ve been asleep a couple of hours.”

  She stretched, intimate areas protesting with a most feminine ache. She felt rested and very well loved. Loved? Scratch that. Very well-made-love-to. Yeah, that would work.

  She would not think about that exchange there near the end, what he’d made her admit aloud. Wouldn’t think about the way he’d made her feel, cherished and special and—

  “Those wheels are turning already.” He ran a teasing finger down her nose. “What are you thinking about so hard?”

  “Nothing.” She pulled the duvet higher and struggled to sit up, keenly aware she was naked and he was dressed, freshly showered and shaved. God, he smelled as good as he looked.

  He covered her hand where it rested atop the duvet with his and rubbed his thumb across her wrist. “Hungry?”

  Surprisingly, she was. She’d thought, sitting in that conference room, spilling everything to Tick, then reliving those moments over and over throughout the day, that she’d never be able to face food again. But now, her stomach grumbled with real hunger.

  She leaned forward. “Are yo
u offering to cook for me again?”

  “Actually, I was thinking we might go out.” His lashes lifted, revealing eyes the color of the sea under storm clouds. “Tick called earlier. He and Cait are going over to Henry’s for dinner and a little music. Sound like fun?”

  Dinner with Calvert, who’d suddenly decided he had epic assholery to make up for? God help her. His cautious solicitousness during the day had threatened to drive her insane, until she’d wanted to beg him to go back to his ornery old self. See him socially?

  “Madeline.” Ash’s quiet voice brought her out of the reverie. He regarded her with a serious expression. “He’s one of my best friends, and he’s my business partner. It’s going to be kind of hard for you to take me and leave him.”

  She puffed out a breath and grabbed for the first, most logical excuse. “I don’t have anything to wear without going all the way home to change.”

  He shrugged, eyes narrowed. “My sister leaves some stuff here for when she visits. Y’all are close to the same size, if you don’t mind wearing her things.”

  Well, there went the wind out of her sails. This was the man who believed she deserved everything good. Hell, she could make an effort for him, simply because he believed. She curved her mouth into a smile that made her face hurt. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Dinner out with Calvert and the perfect Fed.

  Shit damn fuck.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Did I mention how gorgeous you look?” An arm hooked around her neck, Ash murmured the words near her ear as they crossed the parking lot. The unassuming storefront establishment had dark windows, the name Henry’s embellished on both glasses in swanky silver lettering. White lights surrounded the door and lit matching globular topiaries there.

  “Only about thirteen times.” Her laugh sounded shaky even to her, as she tried not to show how affected she was by his nearness, the force of his attention, and how nervous she was at the prospect of the evening stretching before her.

  “Babe, it bears repeating, believe me.” He kissed the side of her neck and let his arm fall away.

  “What did I tell you about that endearment, Hardison?” The loss of his long, warm form sank in immediately. God, the man was addicting.

  “There’s just no satisfying you.”

  She bumped his hip with hers. “Oh, now I don’t know about that. You did it very thoroughly earlier.”

  Laughing, he took her hand as they reached the doorway. He pulled it open, and a wave of music and chatter washed over them. Still holding her hand, he guided her through the considerable crowd, winding among tables and seating areas, skirting the dance floor, to an elevated area overlooking the empty bandstand. Along the way, she got the impression of intimate shadows, pulsing dance music, gyrating bodies, flares of neon, and cushioned chairs and couches scattered among gleaming black tables.

  He jerked his chin toward the far corner, fingers tightening on hers. “There’s Tick and Cait.”

  “Great.” Oh, her joy knew no bounds.

  Pasting on a bright smile, she let him draw her along to the corner semicircular booth where the others waited. She was with Ash and being with him made her feel good. She’d just keep her focus on that.

  “Hey.” Tick rose at their approach, and he and Ash exchanged one of those weird back-slapping pseudo-hugs she’d never gotten.

  “Good to see you.” Ash leaned over to brush his mouth over Caitlin’s cheek. “Hello, beautiful. Cait, you remember Madeline, right?”

  “Of course.” A genuine smile flashed over Caitlin’s face. “Hello, Madeline.”

  “Hi.” Slipping out of her jacket, she slid along the leather bench.

  “Oh, that’s an Alexa Radley top, one of her new line.” Caitlin’s smile widened. “It looks fabulous on you.”

  “Um, thanks.” She glanced down at the red silk, split to her navel and held together between her breasts with a single large gold ring. She caught Ash’s eye. “It’s new.”

  “Here we go,” Tick said, easing back into his seat, a hint of indulgence she’d never heard in his voice before. “The fashion conversation is on.”

  “Don’t start.” Caitlin nudged his side, although she was so close to him Madeline wasn’t sure how she managed.

  “Have y’all ordered?” Ash stretched an arm along the back of the seat, and Madeline found herself enveloped in his clean scent and the warmth from his body. Awareness flashed over her.

  Tick’s dark gaze scanned the crowd, and he shook his head. “We were waiting for you.”

  Caitlin arched an eyebrow. “He couldn’t wait to eat, though, and stopped at the Big Dawg on the way over here for a burger.”

  “I skipped lunch.” He waved across the table. “Madeline, tell her how insane the day was.”

  She froze, but his face betrayed nothing more than good humor and cheerful camaraderie. Swallowing hard, she shrugged. “It was insane.”

  The server, a bubbly little brunette, approached to take beverage and appetizer orders and moments later returned with drinks.

  Sheltered by Ash’s arm, Madeline let the conversation—which consisted of a ton of genial ribbing between Ash and Tick—flow over her, along with a sense of the surreal. She’d never done this before. For the most part, she’d led a solitary life, not getting too close to one person, limiting her social existence to the occasional beer with her colleagues, an every-so-often date with a guy more interested in sex than her conversational skills. There’d been none of this, hanging out with friends, the easy give-and-take Ash and Tick engaged in.

  It was nice, mostly, even with the weird feeling she kept getting that Caitlin was profiling her silently, or that the other shoe was going to drop any minute. The conversation lulled as their food arrived, and she took a sip of her sparkling water, which she’d noticed was Caitlin’s drink of choice as well, and watched as several young men set up speakers and equipment on the stage. At the edge of the bandstand, Troy Lee fiddled with a guitar. For once, he wasn’t running his mouth.

  She brushed back her hair. “So Troy Lee’s in a band?”

  “Yeah.” Tick glanced that way. “It’s his hobby. He’s been out on medical leave so this is his first weekend in a while doing this. He plays with some local boys, country and rock covers. They’re pretty good at it.”

  Ash forked up a bite of steak. “They’ll do a couple of sets then the DJ picks back up.”

  “So do you bring in more on the nights there’s live music?” Caitlin asked.

  “Hell if I know.” Ash lifted his beer. “Rob does the numbers.”

  “Smart guy,” Tick deadpanned. “He’s obviously already been exposed to your accounting skills.”

  “Kiss my ass, Tick.”

  Madeline glanced up at Ash. “This is yours?”

  “My brother and I co-own three properties. This one, two others in Texas and Florida.”

  He was just full of surprises. “Are they all named Henry’s?”

  “No, the one in Texas is Emerson’s—that’s Rob’s middle name. The Florida one is The Crow’s Nest. Believe it or not, this one is named for a dog Rob and I had when we were kids.”

  “Yeah.” A devilish grin lurked around Tick’s mouth. “The one his ex knocked off.”

  “She didn’t… You have a sick sense of humor, Lamar.” Ash shook his head with a long-suffering sigh.

  “Let’s go, sweet thing.” Caitlin nudged Tick from his seat. “You promised me a dance that would scandalize your maiden aunt.”

  She tugged him toward the stairs. Madeline watched them absently. The Fed had good taste in clothes, even if her choice of husbands sucked. Her white halter-top was just snazzy enough to balance the dark denim of her snug jeans, and if those slightly worn red cowboy boots weren’t custom-made, Madeline would give up her probably final paycheck from the Jacksonville PD.

  Reaching for her water once more, Madeline looked up at Ash. “Did she really kill your dog?”

  “N
ot on purpose, at least I don’t think so. That’s how I met her actually. She hit him with her car, then came to the house to apologize.”

  Madeline lapsed into silence. What was she supposed to say? I’m sorry?

  “She is giving him hell.” Ash laughed, sliding his arm behind her again and gesturing toward the dance floor.

  “Who?” She followed the direction of his finger, spotted Caitlin and Tick on the dance floor. “Oh. How can you tell?”

  “His face.”

  Looked like they were dancing to her, not arguing. She shrugged and observed them a moment longer. Unlike many of the other couples, they danced facing one another, without the overt sexual movements, although something about the easy rhythm they shared seemed sexier than the grinding going on around them.

  She could see dancing with Ash like that.

  She wouldn’t mind having him look at her like that, either, as though she were the only other person in the world and he couldn’t wait to be alone with her. Heat flushed through her. God help her, she probably already looked at him that way. She sat back and turned, finding his face near and those storm-green eyes watching her.

  Like no one else existed.

  Like he couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.

  He fiddled with her hair where it fell over her shoulder, his gaze dropping to her mouth. Something fluttered to life low in her stomach, and she leaned in, aching for that kiss. Lips met, clung, and she tasted beer and salt on his mouth. She laid a hand on his thigh, slid it up to his hip, denim soft under her palm.

  Drawing back, he nudged her nose with the tip of his and smiled, eyes gleaming in the dimness. He glanced sideways and straightened, making a regretful noise in his throat.

  Reality intruded as Tick ushered Caitlin back to the table, a fresh Southern Comfort over ice in his hand.

  “You two are tame. I don’t think any maiden aunts would be scandalized by the way you dance.” Pure devil glinted in Ash’s gaze. “Here, anyway.”

  Tick grimaced. “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know.” Ash saluted them with his half-empty beer. “Maybe…what happens in Texas stays in Texas?”