“Again, Mama! AGAIN!”
Jerked from her trance starring a dark-haired, handsome man with blue, blue eyes, she took note of the Lion King credits rolling down the TV screen. Closing the door on blissful fantasy, she plucked the remote from Zeke’s busy fingers before he accidently punched in another prize fight that would entail a lengthy phone call to have the two hundred dollar charge removed from her account. “Why don’t we watch another movie for a change?” she suggested, cheerfully. “How about Clifford the dog or the green dinosaur, or”--
“No! Lion King AGAIN!!”
Zeke’s red-faced scream was so dramatically toddler, she almost burst out laughing. If only she could scream, AGAIN, as vehemently and have Jack Morgan appear for a repeat performance. “Okay, but this is the last time today,” she said, semi-firmly, envying parents who disciplined with conviction. “We have to eat supper soon.”
“No! Me no hungry ever no more!”
“Why don’t we see,” she murmured, clicked Don’t Delete, then Replay and watched her son’s shoulders relax as he sank back into his Lion King coma. She’d found that arguing with a two-year-old was an exercise in futility. Better distraction, she’d discovered, for balky toddlers.
She smiled. Adult distractions were equally effective.
Jack Morgan, the ultimate distraction.
Although her recent months of relative isolation in a toddler world may have played a role in her totally blissed-out response to Jack. Or maybe it was the opportunity for adult conversation, along with a rare freedom from responsibility that had contributed to her vast, untrammeled pleasure. Adult conversation, freedom from responsibility? the little voice inside her head interrupted. Are you freaking kidding? You were blissed out because Jack could prolong your orgasms to the point of wild delirium, and deliver off-the-chart raw pleasure that left you panting for more. Come on, the man’s incredible in bed. You’re just too cowardly to call him. Admit it.
She softly swore. The truth sucked.
On the other hand, Jack’s goodbye had been bland, polite, maybe even walking-away-polite. So scoring again with a player like Jack Morgan was unlikely. He’d promised to call, but then he was super polite in a whole lot of ways. As for romantic illusions, she’d pretty much jettisoned those years ago as her mother lay dying; Zeke had been two weeks old, her husband three weeks dead, US bank challenging ownership of the house. At that point, rosy scenarios had disappeared from her life.
Although now with her house secure, she might be persuaded that miracles actually exist. Jack had given her that miracle and a few sensationally miraculous orgasms as well.
Just thinking of all the pleasure he’d offered her made her smile.
She felt a small tug of contentment too, almost baffling after the recent hopelessness of her existence. A strange, jumpy, almost fractious hope as well. As if her world had suddenly righted itself after whirling out of control so long.
Her house was safe, she had Zeke, the sunshine of her life--minor tantrums aside. And the two job applications she’d recently completed for neighboring school districts might very well bring results.
So don’t ask for more. Don’t be greedy.
Forget Jack Morgan. He had women waiting in line if the car in his driveway the other day was any indication. Chill. Move on. Be sensible.
But good intentions and platitudes were flimsy defense against a rash, ungovernable longing and impulsively, she wondered, What is he doing now?
What Jack was doing was talking to Megan on his car’s Blue Tooth. She’d called from the lobby of The Fairmont before he’d reached Santa Rosa and he was in the process of getting her set up in a suite at the hotel. Before long, he had her registered anonymously, promised to call her in the morning and told her not to answer her phone unless his caller ID came up.
“I’ll have a security team outside your door within the hour,” he said. “Don’t call anyone until you hear from me tomorrow. Sleep tight.”
Two phone calls later, he’d hired enough contractors to cocoon Megan twenty-four/seven from Gavin and his dangerous associates. He also made arrangements with the hotel for rooms for the security team. The hotel was accommodating; this wasn’t their first rodeo. All the presidents stayed there.
When he reached Cloverdale he gave his mom a call, so the kids were waiting outside when he drove up to the house. He was pleased to see that Luis was fully integrated into the family unit, laughing and shouting with the rest of the children swarming his car. Rolling down his window, he yelled, “Back off, guys. I found a puppy and you’re scaring him.” Sam was standing on the back seat, his spine rigid, his hackles raised.
Swinging around, Jack scratched the pup behind his ears. “It’s okay, Sam. This is family. Relax.”
As if he understood, the hair on Sam’s back smoothed down and the big pit bull/ mastiff mix pup began wagging his tail.
“There you go. Now stay by me until I’ve introduced everyone.”
Getting out of the car, he opened the back door, Sam jumped down and calmly stood by Jack’s side as he explained, in edited terms, how he’d found the new addition to the family. “So no sudden moves, guys, until Sam gets to know everyone. And try not to scream in case he freaks. Be kind, okay? He’s adjusting to a new world.”
“Like me.”
Jack’s heart did a little lurch at the soft poignancy in Luis’s voice. “Yeah. The same.” Jack held out his hand to Luis. “Come say hi to Sam. He’s needs friends right now. Rub his head, right here, between his ears. He likes that.”
As if Sam were a trained therapy dog, he stood motionless as Luis tentatively touched him on the top of his head.
“You can talk to him. He’s smart. He understands. Here,” Jack coaxed, because he could see that Luis was intimidated by Sam’s size. “Rub his head right here, that’s the way, see he likes it.” After a few moments, Luis wrapped his arms around the dog’s strong neck and hugged him. Sam started wagging his tail, and gave a quick glance up at Jack as if to say, I got this.
After everyone else had petted Sam, Jack’s mom sent the children in to get ready for bed, then turned back to Jack. “You look tired. Strenuous day?”
Jesus, what did that mean? Had she caught a whiff of sex? He and Megan had showered, but hygiene hadn’t been their main focus. “This case I’m working on is keeping me pretty busy,” he said, in lieu of the truth apropos his strenuous afternoon at Guido’s.
His mother gave him a little sideways look. “You know I never interfere in your personal life.”
Oh shit.
“But a short nap would do you good,” she said. “Even twenty minutes. I’ll wake you.”
Concealing his relief with a quick glance at his watch, he smiled. “I would if I could, Mom. But I still want to talk to Luis. See if he needs anything, or has any questions. Then I really gotta go.”
“I just worry about you.”
“I know.” Jack considered giving her a hug, but thought better of it in the event the scent of sex still lingered. “But I’m always careful. I never take risks.” No way the truth fit this situation. “My life’s too good to jeopardize.”
“I’m so pleased you’re back home again. I get to see you more.” A smile broke over Leslie Morgan’s face. “Speaking of good things, Wade said you helped some nice, young lady save her house.”
“Actually, Wade saved her house,” Jack replied, avoiding the obvious query in his mother’s tone. “I’m glad it turned out well.”
“She’s a widow with a young boy I hear. Is he two?”
Jack sighed, not about to bare his soul when he wasn’t even sure he had one. “Look, Mom, I don’t know what Wade told you but I just met Jillian a couple days ago. If and when there’s more to tell, I promise, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you, dear.” His mother grinned. “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it? And you needn’t blame Wade. I’d already heard about your breakfast at the hotel from a dozen other people.”
Jac
k groaned.
She patted his arm. “Everyone said this young lady had you smiling. I like that. You don’t smile enough. I just want you to be happy. You know that.” She held his gaze for a moment, then apparently having made a decision, spoke quickly. “I kept my feelings about Sarah to myself. I’m not sure it was the right thing to do--not telling you.”
He’d found out later that she’d known about Monty before him. Sarah’s bitch mother had called his mom. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d told me. Things were what they were. And I am happy now. Busy, but happy, so everything’s good.”
“You’re sure? Since your divorce you’ve been even more reticent about your feelings. It’s not healthy to lock everything away. Don’t look at me like that. It’s true.”
“Then I’ll have to try and be better, more open.”
She snorted. “Such drivel. But I’m done lecturing you. Now, are you going to nap? You look exhausted.”
He grimaced. “I can’t Mom. I still have a few more stops to make this evening. So after I talk to Luis, I’m leaving.” He gave his mother a smile and moved toward the porch stairs. “But thanks for worrying about me, okay?”
“Maybe I’ll get that young lady’s number from Wade and call her. See what you’re really like.”
Jack spun around, horrified.
His mother laughed. “Now there’s some visible emotion.”
Jack’s gaze abruptly narrowed. “You wouldn’t actually call, would you?” His voice was ultra-soft. “Reassure me.”
Leslie Morgan smiled at her eldest son, who’d viewed the world as his to command even as a child, or more to the point, chose not to be influenced by others. “No, darling,” she said, quietly. “I’d never do that.”
He flashed her a grin, blew her a kiss and a moment later disappeared into the house, Sam on his heels.
Luis was upstairs in his bedroom, pulling out pajamas from his dresser drawer when Jack and Sam walked in. “I just wanted to see if you had any questions,” Jack said, dropping onto the bed while Sam flopped down on the floor nearby. For a fleeting moment, Jack considered lying down too, shutting his eyes and catching a few minutes rest. Fuck, he was tired. Sex as business must be more draining than sex for fun.
“Is Sam gonna stay here?”
Jack’s eyelids snapped up and he gave himself a little shake. “I was thinking maybe. He needs room to run.”
“Sam’s really cool.” Walking over, Luis sat down beside the sprawled pup and began petting him.
“Maybe he could sleep in your room,” Jack suggested, “if that’s okay with you.”
Sam’s head swiveled up at warp speed and he nailed Jack with a I-don’t-think-so look.
Luis chuckled. “He’s saying no way. Hey, Sam, you got other plans, right?”
Luis’s laughter was reassuring, as was his insight. The boy was quick to read the world around him. “So you think that’s what Sam said?”
An emphatic nod. “Yup. He feels safe with you is all. Like me here at the farm.”
“So you’re settling in okay? No major complaints?”
Another nod, even a small smile. “Your brothers and sisters are great. Your mom too. And Marco showed me all the guards. You got lots.” He took a deep breath, held Jack’s gaze and as his eyes filled with tears, added softly, “Thanks for everything, for saving my life…and for all you’re doing to--make those bad guys pay.”
Jack felt like crying too. Jesus, the boy was too young to be desperate and alone, trying to manage in a cruel, unsafe world. Leaning down, Jack picked up Luis, set him on the bed beside him, wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “You’re part of the family now.” Bending low so their eyes met, Jack said, gently, “If that’s what you want. It’s your call.” Jack’s mouth lifted in a faint grin. “I hear you’re going to be the champion gamer in the family soon.”
Luis blinked a couple times, gave Jack a shaky smile. “Not for a while.”
“You’re crushing it, Mbusa tells me. You’re that good.” A small pause as Jack experienced a flicker of guilt; Luis’s unconvincing smile aside, he had to leave. “I’m sorry I can’t stick around tonight. I got stuff to do. But I’m going to give you my phone numbers. My home, my cell, my second cell. Call anytime. Ask me anything. I’ll always answer. Got something to write on?”
Luis found a pen and paper, Jack listed all his numbers, watched Luis put the paper in his desk drawer, then came to his feet. “I’ll be back in a day or two. I have to check in with my boss, but so far the case is moving along pretty well.”
“My case,” Luis said, his dark gaze watchful.
A survival strategy that had become habit, Jack suspected, so he spoke with calm conviction. “Yeah, yours. But I have to be careful not to leave the bad guys any outs.”
“I wish you could just shoot’em.”
“Me too. But then all hell would break loose, so I’m trying to do it by the book.”
“They deserve to be shot dead.”
The chill in the young boy’s voice was stone cold. “You know it and I know it, but”--Jack shrugged--“we gotta deal with the law.” He understood the youngster’s need for vengeance. He felt it too. “But I promise I’ll take care of those scum bags one way or another. You have my word.” He held out his hand to seal the deal and when Luis grasped it, he pulled him close for a quick hug. “One last thing,” Jack said, stepping away. “If you remember anything you think might help, be sure and call me. Anything—a name, a face, the color of a car or truck that might prove useful. Something your brother said, a conversation you overheard.”
“A limo? In the Safeway parking lot?”
“Fuck yeah. Where? Tell me about it.”
By the time Luis was finished with his story, Jack was smiling big time. “You’re sure now. Willits, white limo, old guy in a white suit like Colonel Sanders talking business with your brother’s boss.”
Luis lifted his brows in affront.
Jack laughed. “Sorry. It sounds like a goddamn movie that’s all.”
“I wish it had been.” Blunt, pointed, a dismal indictment of the only world Luis had ever known.
Jack suddenly felt an incoherent rage at the casual brutality of men like Remington: safe from punishment, wealthy, well-connected, capable of erasing the life of Jorge Mata without a qualm. “We’ll take’em down, every last one,” he promised. As for the legalities, he considered those ad hoc judgment calls. “Okay, Luis.” He put out his fist. “Be back, soon, okay?”
It was dark by the time Jack said his goodbyes to the rest of the family. He drove Highway 128 faster than he should with all the night creatures out, but he still had a helluva lot to do. When he finally came out of the redwoods onto Highway One, he visibly relaxed. Open country; you could see an animal in time to hit the brakes.
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into his driveway next to Liz’s car, turned off the ignition, gave himself a couple seconds of mental prep, then shoved open his car door. With his mother’s comments in mind, he walked to the back of the SUV, lifted the rear door and rifled through his overnight bag for a clean t-shirt. Quickly changing, he let Sam out, then issued a few cautions on their way to the house. “I’m going to leave you in the front hall. You have to be quiet. You might hear some crying, screaming, whatever. Ignore it. Got that?”
A single soft woof.
It was seriously weird how the dog seemed to understand. But he wasn’t going to question his good fortune. Right now, he needed all the luck he could get. Bracing himself, he took a small breath and opened the front door. He’d helped Liz through crises before but this one was more complicated, perhaps intractable.
She needed sympathy, help, a shoulder to cry on.
What he wanted would have to wait.
Chapter 28
“I’m in here!”
Liz’s voice rang out from the kitchen and Jack marginally relaxed. He’d been afraid she’d be waiting for him in his bed and he wasn’t sure whether he would have b
een able to talk his way out of joining her.
Strange how quickly life could shift.
Casual sex no longer had the same appeal.
At the moment, no appeal.
Whoa. Total mind fuck. Not that he had time for even a mini-therapy session with Liz waiting. Suck it up, do your duty, be a friend.
“Hey, how are you?” he asked, as he entered the kitchen. Since he actually cared, concern echoed in his voice.
A little sigh. “I’ve been better.” Liz was seated at his kitchen table, her purse and briefcase where she’d dropped them next to a vase of wilted flowers. “I’m hungry too. I was hoping you’d get home soon and make me something to eat.”
There was a God. Sex was out, at least for now. “Sure. No problem,” Jack said, picking up the vase of dead flowers and setting it on the counter. “What’s on the menu?”
“Guess.”
Her smile was almost normal. “That’s easy,” he drawled, returning her smile. “Let me just wash my hands. Gruyere or cheddar?”
“Both.”
“Gotcha.” Grilled cheese sandwiches had always been Liz’s comfort food. He’d been making them for her since he’d been fifteen. “Chocolate milk?”
She actually grinned this time. “You asking?”
“Nah.” He hit the taps with his elbows and washed his hands. When he turned back a moment later and reached for a towel, he said, “If you’re up to it, I picked up a dog today. Want an introduction?”
“Seriously? You who never wanted the responsibility?”
“Extenuating circumstances. He’s awful pretty.”
She laughed. “This I gotta see. You and a dog? Like Scooby Doo?”
“Damn close. He’s huge. Hey, Sam! Come here and meet Liz!” Jack shouted. He hadn’t moved more than a few steps toward the front of the house when Sam came bounding into the kitchen, tail wagging, eyes bright, his best dog smile in place.
“OHMYGOD! IT’S A PONY!”
Sam skidded to a stop.
“Hey, babe, he’s sensitive. It’s okay, Sam, Liz is just surprised you’re so pretty. Tell him you’re just surprised. You’re hurting his feelings.”
A Fine Balance Page 17