His Touch

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His Touch Page 29

by Mary Lynn Baxter


  “Good. Now let’s get down to business.”

  The plan had then been that, with Thurmon as his backup positioned in the closet, Brant would pretend to be asleep in her bed. She, in turn, would remain in the complex, safely tucked away at a neighbor’s with Veronica and two detectives, who were there as a precaution.

  Once Stokes and Wells had been arrested and hauled off in cuffs, Brant had come after her, and the four of them had celebrated. During the remainder of the night, Brant had simply held her in his arms, reassuring her that he was all right, that there wasn’t a scratch on him.

  “All in a day’s work,” he’d quipped; then, noticing she was trembling, he’d groaned and clutched her tighter. But he hadn’t made love to her or touched on anything personal. It was as if he sensed that she simply needed to be held, and he’d been sensitive to that need.

  Now, however, in the light of day, she realized they couldn’t ignore what was between them, especially since Brant no longer had a reason to remain.

  Except for his son.

  Instantly Jessica’s rigid body relaxed and she could breathe, though not for long. She had the all-important city council meeting today. While that was going on, Brant hoped to spend time with Elliot.

  “Whatever it takes,” Brant had said before she fell asleep in his arms, “I’m going to see my kid and get some things straight, Marsha or no Marsha.”

  “You’ll be fighting your dragon at the same time I’m fighting mine,” she had told him, snuggling closer in his warm arms.

  “Now that your mind is free, I’m confident you’ll win your battle.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jessica countered. “At this point, the vote could go either way.”

  “If it does, you’ll survive. You’re a strong woman.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she said with a tremor. “Nonetheless, I’m holding to my convictions. I’ll see what the fallout is, then I’ll go from there.”

  Brant had brushed her forehead with his lips. “It’s going to be all right. I just know it is. But right now, I want you to sleep.”

  “You’ll stay with me?”

  “I’m always with you,” he said in a husky but rugged voice. “Now sleep.”

  And sleep she had, only to wake alone. She just prayed that today would be Brant’s lucky day, as well, that he wouldn’t come away from his son with his heart still broken.

  Pushing that disturbing possibility to the back of her mind, Jessica peered at her watch. She had to get up and face her own lion—the council. If she failed, then her life could take another drastic turn.

  She could lose her beloved job.

  Dare he indulge himself with the thought that she loved him?

  But how could she love him—a washed-up recluse with a troubled teenager and the ex-wife from hell?

  Of course, she doesn’t love you, you idiot.

  What if she really did?

  Love was the answer to everything, right?

  Bullshit.

  He doubted love could overcome all the obstacles in front of them. Still, the thought of returning to his world and leaving her in hers was something he couldn’t imagine.

  Just like he couldn’t imagine leaving his son again.

  So if it came down to choosing…

  No. He couldn’t afford to think about Jessica now, not when he was waiting for his son to join him.

  Brant knew he would have another chance to see Jessica. His son was a different matter. He never knew about Elliot and his mood swings. And his time here had run out. It truly was now or never.

  He no longer had a valid reason to hang around. With that in mind, he’d called Elliot and asked to see him. Miraculously he’d said okay. Now, as Brant waited in the drive for him to appear, he wiped the sweat off his brow, having opted to let the windows down and kill the engine. He should have known better; the heat and his mood were an explosive combination.

  Just as he was about to crank the engine again, Elliot came bounding out of the house, dressed in a pair of baggy shorts, a T-shirt and tennis shoes.

  “Hey, it’s good to see you,” Brant said when his son was in the vehicle.

  “Uh, you, too.”

  Brant hid a smile, thinking how uncomfortable most kids were with small talk. He remembered he had been. And still was, he reminded himself. He had just looked down the barrel of two guns pointed at him, and he hadn’t been this nervous.

  But this was different. Elliot wasn’t a job. But then, neither was Jessica, at least not anymore. Still, there was a difference. Maybe that difference stemmed from desperation, knowing he would be leaving town soon.

  “Name the place you want to eat breakfast, son,” Brant said, trying to force his clenched stomach muscles to relax.

  Elliot did, and soon they were seated and their orders placed. While it was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out his feelings, Brant held back. He wanted the kid to enjoy his food, and he needed more time to come up with the right words to convey what was in his heart.

  Hell, he wasn’t sure there were any right words.

  “So how many more games do you have to play?”

  “One more, then we start the playoffs.”

  “So what are your chances of winning it all?”

  “Good,” Elliot said with confidence. “You saw us play.”

  “That I did. And you’re right. As a team, you guys are real solid.”

  “If I just don’t blow it this time,” Elliot said, down-in-the-mouth.

  “So you got the nod to pitch the first game?”

  “I got it last year, too, and I blew it.”

  “What happened?”

  Elliot shrugged, his eyes narrowed. “I just couldn’t get it across the plate. They used me for batting practice.”

  “We all have days like that, when nothing goes right.”

  “Mom doesn’t,” Elliot said seriously. “Except now.”

  Brant’s good humor fled, and he bit back a retort. Marsha was one person he didn’t want entering this conversation, but it seemed there was no way around it.

  “You’ve got her all messed up.”

  Now Elliot was smiling, which didn’t set too well with Brant. “Look, son, I’ve told you this before, causing a row between you and your mother was never my intention. She should always come first. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have our time together. But most of all, I—” He paused, trying to come up with the words that would convey his soul.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” Elliot said.

  Brant blinked. “Uh, what’s okay?”

  “I don’t think I’m mad at you anymore.”

  Brant opened his mouth, but no words came out. Too easy. Something was wrong. He didn’t deserve this good fortune. His throat suddenly tightened again, and he swallowed. He couldn’t cry. But that was exactly what he felt like doing. He felt like grabbing his son and hugging him, too. But he didn’t do that, either.

  He simply sat there for a moment and fought back tears.

  “Are you all right, Dad?” Elliot asked.

  Brant made himself smile. “Actually I’m fine, son, just fine. So when can you come to visit me?”

  Suddenly a wary expression crossed Elliot’s features. That was the catch. Elliot still didn’t trust him and his good intentions. And only time would take care of that, which meant he still had his work cut out for him.

  “Maybe at the end of the summer,” Elliot said.

  Brant’s hope was reborn. “Any time is fine with me,” he said eagerly. “And I’ll talk to your mother.”

  “No, Dad, I’ll tell Mom.”

  Brant’s heart swelled with added pride. Was his son maturing in front of his eyes? It sounded like it, especially with Elliot assuming the daunting task of crossing Marsha.

  With that in mind, Brant asked, “Are you sure? Your mother’s not going to be happy.”

  “I know,” Elliot said. “But it’ll be all right.”

  “Would you mind if I gave you a hug?”

  “
Here?” Elliot looked panicked.

  Brant laughed out loud. “No, not here. Later.”

  Elliot sort of smiled. “Uh, I guess so. I mean sure.”

  Walking out of the restaurant, Brant’s feet barely touched the ground.

  Thirty-nine

  “Well, you stuck to your guns and won.”

  Jessica was careful to keep her emotional shield in place. “I did what I believed was the right thing to do.”

  Councilman Lance Saxon let go of a heavy sigh that set his jowls and girth in motion. “I still think you’re wrong on both the chief and the land, but I don’t aim to be a sore loser.”

  That remained to be seen, Jessica thought with a twist of hidden sarcasm. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to break the tie. Unfortunately I did.”

  The council meeting had just ended. And while several members had hung around to chat, especially since the outcome was so controversial, others had already gone, seemingly tired of the uproar.

  “For now, you’re in the driver’s seat, which means you wield the power,” Saxon said.

  Jessica ignored his remark, realizing he was indeed expressing sour grapes, despite his claim to the contrary. “The man I have in mind for the chief’s position will do the city a fine job. I’m convinced of that. And I’m also convinced the annexation of the land will be a windfall for the city.”

  Saxon rubbed his jowls, than said in an oily voice, “We’ll see. Until all the dust settles, the verdict’s still out.”

  His meaning was clear. She was up for reelection soon. If she lost, Saxon and his cohorts would try to undo all that she had done.

  She hadn’t lost yet, she reminded herself, though she knew the fight would be much tougher than before.

  “Though I’m willing to give the new man a chance,” Saxon added quickly, and in a more conciliatory tone.

  Jessica wasn’t fooled by his shift in attitude. If she didn’t lose the election, then he would have some backtracking to do. And that didn’t set well with him, either. Too bad. At this point, she didn’t care. Saxon was the least of her worries.

  “I’d appreciate your cooperation,” Jessica said, smiling politely.

  He nodded. “Have a good evening, Mayor.”

  A short time later, Jessica was alone in her office except for her assistant, who was flittering around nervously and talking incessantly.

  “Tony, you’re driving me nuts.”

  He pulled up short and gave her a shocked look. “I am?”

  “Yes,” she said, tempering her tone. “You are.”

  “Sorry,” he said, wide-eyed. “I guess I’m letting off steam now that those goons have been arrested and you came through the meeting a winner.”

  “Let us hope,” Jessica said, her tone subdued.

  Tony cut her a sharp look. “What does that mean?”

  “My refusal to compromise made a lot of enemies.”

  “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  Jessica straightened. “No.”

  “There you are. You fought for what you thought was right, and you won on both fronts. All’s fair in love and war. And someone has to lose. Remember that. Saxon and his allies will just have to suck it up.”

  Jessica smiled. “You and Veronica. Both of you are good for me. Besides, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be ecstatic. I made great strides today in proving that a woman can successfully hold her own in this office.”

  “Sure you did. But you’ve been through hell lately. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t ever forget that,” Jessica said in a flat tone.

  “You haven’t had any time to adjust to having your life back. The cops were arrested one day and you had this meeting the next. Give yourself a break. After all, those idiots tried to kill you. That in itself is mind-boggling.”

  “You’re right, it is, and I am exhausted.”

  “By the way, has he-man gone?”

  Jessica chose her words carefully. “No, no, he hasn’t.”

  “You mean he’s still hanging around? Whatever for?”

  “He has a son here.”

  “But he’s no longer underfoot?” Tony halted and narrowed his gaze on her. “Under your feet, that is.”

  The intercom on her phone chose that moment to sound. Saved by the bell, Jessica thought, literally, feeling her stomach uncoil. She couldn’t think about Brant rationally, though she would have to face him again this evening. Meanwhile, she was grappling with the possibility that she might lose him.

  “Oh brother,” Tony mumbled, after answering the call.

  “What?” Jessica demanded, slipping back into her old guarded mode, forgetting for a moment she was free.

  Tony made a distasteful face. “Of all times for him to make an appearance.”

  “Who?”

  “Curtis Riley.”

  “I don’t want to see him.”

  “Didn’t think so. I’ll get rid of him.”

  Jessica massaged her temple. “Thanks. I’ll owe you.”

  “I like it when you owe me.” Tony chuckled, then headed for the door, only to halt midstride.

  “Hope I’m not intruding,” Curtis said, all but thrusting Tony aside as he crossed the threshold.

  “Actually, you are,” her assistant countered in a huff.

  “It’s okay, Tony,” Jessica said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Tony glared at the unwelcome visitor, his lips stretched in a tight line. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”

  “Thanks,” Jessica said, standing rod-straight while giving in to the fury charging through her.

  “I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” Curtis said when they were alone.

  “Oh really?” Jessica didn’t believe that for a second, but she played it cool and gave him a fixed smile.

  “Yes, really. However, I still think you’re wrong and that you’ll regret your move.”

  “I guess that means you’re not going to vote for me in the next election.”

  His brows shot up. “Did you expect me to?”

  “No.”

  He shrugged, his eyes taking on a glint. “You could make me change my mind, you know.”

  Inwardly recoiling, Jessica stepped back. “I’m comfortable with things the way they are.”

  The glint in his eye turned to cold anger. “I make a formidable enemy.”

  “I’m aware of that,” she said with matching coldness.

  If she had seen this side of Curtis before the cops had been caught red-handed trying to harm her, she might have agreed with Brant and cast her vote for Curtis. When thwarted, he was not above playing down and dirty.

  “I might even run against you for mayor.”

  Ah, so that was what this little visit was all about. He figured he would get her one way or the other. Well, let him try. She would gladly take him on, or anyone else who chose to run against her. She would do her best, and let the chips fall where they may.

  That thought shocked her. When had she become so blasé about the career that had once meant everything to her, that was her life? Brant. He was responsible for those careless thoughts. Panic kept her silent.

  “Jessica.”

  Curtis’ tone was abrupt, as though he resented her lack of attention. “I’m glad the cops were arrested and won’t be dealing you any more misery. I hope you know I’m sincere about that.”

  “Thanks, Curtis.”

  “So I guess we’ll see what happens when election time rolls around.”

  Jessica didn’t so much as flinch. “Guess we will.”

  He smiled without warmth. “May the best man win.” His mouth took on a smirk. “No offense intended, of course.”

  Jessica met his gaze head-on. “None taken.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Goodbye, Curtis.”

  His lips tightened in another smirk before he turned and left the room.

  Jessica didn’t realize how rigidly she’d held herself until he wa
s gone. Following several deep breaths, she felt her muscles unknot. Thank God this day was nearly over. The meeting had lasted nine hours. Besides the crucial votes, there had been other business on the agenda.

  Easing down in her desk chair, she rubbed her temple, then peered at the clock. She was free to go home. And alone, too.

  Her adrenaline kicked in. Would Brant be waiting? Yes. She was confident of that. She suspected he was eager to settle the unfinished business between them.

  But was she? Was she up to facing him, dealing with this emotional crossroads in her life?

  Jessica stood and loaded her briefcase. After bidding Tony and Millie good-night, she headed for home with both anticipation and dread.

  She knew he was there.

  The scent of his cologne instantly sharpened her senses and sent her pulses soaring. She paused in the foyer, her heart pounding like a drum inside her chest. At least she didn’t see any luggage, which might or might not mean anything. At this point, she simply didn’t know what to expect.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself,” she said huskily, then made her way into the living room. He was standing by the fireplace, facing her.

  She stopped, and their eyes met. Then, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, Jessica crossed deeper into the room. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days. Apparently this new twist in their relationship had taken its toll on him, as well. Or maybe his exhaustion had to do with his son. She had no idea how Brant had fared with him.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked, breaking the tense silence.

  “Thanks,” she responded, pulling her eyes off him. “A glass of Chardonnay would be nice.”

  “Chardonnay it is.” He crossed to the bar area, then returned shortly with glass in hand. While there, he’d also helped himself to a beer.

  “You won, right?”

  She was taken aback. “How did you know?”

  He smiled. “I just did.”

  “No, you didn’t. You just took a wild guess.”

  “Whatever,” he countered, his smile fading into another silence.

  It was obvious they were both reluctant to make the first move, even though the tension continued to mount. When it became so thick that Jessica couldn’t stand it, she asked, “How did your meeting go with Elliot?”

 

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