by Kathryn Shay
She eased out of bed and crossed to the window. It had snowed last night, and all the Callahans and Joe were engaged in a snowball fight. It was Ruth and Joe against the rest of them—as if they’d been doing that all their lives, siding against the world.
We don’t talk about our childhood.
Rapt, she watched Joe’s bullet-like throw at Mark, which hit him square on the back. The boy and his sister responded with several lobs at him; one caught him in the face. She wondered if it stung. From here, she could see his cheeks were red.
He advanced on the kids as the other two adults went off to the side. Shelly started screaming, and running, and Joe darted after her. When he caught up with her, Mark sneaked up behind him and jumped on his back. Joe’s cap was dislodged. The three of them fell to the ground, and the kids proceeded to bury Joe in the snow.
She had to turn away from the sight. This was a man who could mean too much to her. And she wouldn’t let herself go there. As she showered in the bathroom adjacent to her room, she tried to forget the sight of him outside with his family.
But she remembered his words...
First from three nights ago, I know, sweetheart.
Then from last night, It’s more than the case. I wanted her with me.
Get a grip, girl, she told herself. He isn’t going to be in Fairholm forever. He’s only doing his job. One you shouldn’t distract him from with a romantic interest. Besides, he’d made it clear that his lifestyle had no room for women.
By the time she was dressed in jeans and a heavy blue angora sweater, socks, and boots, she’d almost convinced herself. Downstairs, she was sipping coffee in a windowed breakfast nook when the back door opened and someone came into the mud room.
Murmurs, a soft laugh, and suspicious rustles “... in the laundry room, lady. We did it here before.”
Ruth and Al.
Purposely, she made noise to let them know she was up. A few minutes later, they came down the corridor.
“There she is,” Al said, flushed from being outdoors—and probably the suggestive remarks he’d made to his wife. He seemed younger today in a beige chamois shirt and brown slacks.
Looking rested in a plain sweat suit, Ruth was holding onto Al’s arm. Suzanna had been shocked to see Joe turn into a toucher up here, too. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Suzanna nodded outside. “They have stamina, don’t they?”
“Yeah.” Al poured mugs of coffee and fixed Ruth’s with sugar and cream. “He’ll be dragging by the time he leaves. The kids don’t let up on him.”
“It’s because...” Ruth stopped, her eyes rounded. Al stiffened. They both glanced worriedly at Suzanna.
“Ruth, I know what this weekend is. You don’t have to watch what you say around me. About Josie, at least.”
Ruth’s eyes widened further. “He told you?”
Suzanna nodded.
Al took a seat and glanced out the window. “Sometimes I think he suffers more than us. He doesn’t have anybody to share his grief with.”
Ruth grasped Al’s hand. “They were so close.”
“I’m sorry,” Suzanna said. “About your daughter.”
“Thanks.” Ruth looked toward the window, too. “It was senseless. Such a waste.” She swallowed hard. “Kids are so precious. You never know how much until...”
Suzanna waited a moment, then said, “I have a son. I know how precious children are.” Sighing, she added, “And his father died five years ago. It’s hard to lose someone you love.”
Nodding, Ruth stared outside. “Oh, no, look.”
Suzanna recognized the change of subject for what it was. “Oh, Lord.”
Uncle, niece, and nephew had trudged up the hill behind the house. Each was seated in a saucer-like sled at the top. They sped down the hill. Suzanna smiled as the kids purposely maneuvered their sleds right into Joe’s. The crash upended them all, and they fell into a heap on the slope.
Ruth’s eyes teared. “He’s so good with them.”
“I can’t believe it,” Suzanna said. “He’s so different here.”
“This is the real Joe, Suzanna.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” Ruth said firmly. “It is.”
o0o
Joe tossed in his bed, unable to settle down. The new print comforter and taupe sheets Ruthie had picked out were in a tangle. Through the skylights, he studied the stars, which he never got a chance to see in his city dwelling. They twinkled and winked and made him think about life as it could have been.
Turning over, he punched the pillow. Was she asleep? He glared at the red numbers on the clock. Only 11 P.M. Everybody had turned in early because of the active day, heavy Italian dinner, and a little too much wine for the adults. Suzanna hadn’t seemed tired, though she’d gone to her room when the rest of them did. He’d had a quick fantasy of the two of them going to bed hand in hand, tucking in a kid or two, holding each other through the night.
That was never to be. Tomorrow they would go back to Fairholm. He’d turn into Agent Stonehouse and have to face the complete breach of professional conduct he’d made for the first time in his career by bringing a client into his personal life.
But he didn’t regret it.
You’re different here, she’d said as they cleaned up the dishes. She’d offered to do it alone, but Joe had joined her to help.
I am.
I like both, she told him.
Both?
The Secret Service agent and the man.
He’d had all he could do to keep from sidling up behind her at the sink, trapping her between his body and the counter, and drawing her to him. He’d have turned her around, taken her mouth—she’d taste sweet and sexy—and touched her intimately.
Arrgh... He groaned into the darkness.
Disgusted with his ruminations and the effect they were having on him, he snapped off the covers and rolled out of bed. He’d go downstairs. Maybe hit the hot tub. Anything but lie here and think about making love to her. Finally, he admitted it. He wanted Suzanna, more than he could remember wanting a woman in his life.
Throwing on gym shorts, a sweatshirt, and a pair of Docksiders, he opened his door. He crept down the hall and found his way in the dark to the back of the house and out to the deck. As he was uncovering and turning on the Jacuzzi, he saw the light from her window above.
Don’t do it, he ordered himself.
But the agent was not in control this weekend. And the man took over. Cursing himself all the way, he stopped in the changing room off the deck, grabbed one of Ruthie’s suits and his bathrobe that was hanging there from the last time he visited, and made his way up to Suzanna.
She answered on the first knock. Briefly, he closed his eyes at the sight of her, dressed in icy blue satin pajamas. He could see the outline of her breasts through the top.
“Joe?” she asked quietly. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I couldn’t sleep.” He glanced behind her, saw the lit reading lamp and a book resting along with her glasses on a table. “You, too?”
She shook her head, sending wild hair flying.
“Come with me?” he asked hoarsely.
“Where?”
He thrust out the bathrobe and suit. “To the hot tub.”
“Are you kidding? It’s freezing outside.”
“But the water’s warm. The kids used the tub today.”
“No way.”
“The high school principal’s afraid of a little cold?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Come on, Suzie Q, I dare you.”
Her beautiful, luscious mouth literally dropped open with the nickname he’d called her only in his mind. But then, without a word, she grabbed the clothes from him and closed the door. He chuckled at her reaction all the way to the tub. He was already in the steaming water when she appeared in the doorway.
And, at that moment, the agent inside the man surrendered completely.
She stood clothed in his bathr
obe like she belonged to him. The white terry cloth skimmed her ankles, and the sleeves reached way past her hands. She raised them to the lapels, and pulled the top close around her neck.
He couldn’t speak for how utterly sexy she looked. Vivid fantasies of what might have preceded her wearing his robe, or what might follow her donning it, flicked fast-forward through his mind. He was grateful that his body was covered by the water.
“Joe?”
Her whispered word brought some sanity back. He ordered his wayward libido to quiet. “Come in. It’s nice and hot.”
Stepping outside, she raced the short distance to the tub and hung the robe on an outdoor coat tree. He got only a quick peek at womanly curves and feminine flesh before he took her hand so she could climb in the tub safely. He meant to let go, really he did, but once she was in, somehow he couldn’t. He held on, thinking, Let me have this much. Just for tonight.
She plopped down beside him. Joe laced their fingers, the gesture intimate. After a moment, she grasped his hand more tightly. They watched the stars for a few minutes. The steam was thick off the water, dissipating into the crisp night air.
At one point, she turned and laid her head on his shoulder. It was better than cotton candy, Christmas, and the Fourth of July parade in Washington. He angled his body so he could take some of her weight and kiss her hair. Eyes closed, she sighed.
They stayed that way for a long time, and Joe knew that, for as long as he lived, no matter where he traveled in the world to do his godforsaken job, he’d never feel as he did on this crystal-clear night, at this isolated farmhouse in Connecticut, with this very precious woman beside him.
Chapter Fifteen
Well, Luke figured philosophically, if Stonehouse had stayed put, Luke wouldn’t be sitting in his battered Ford at eleven o’clock at night, staking out Kelsey Cunningham’s house, because he was so hung up on her. But no, the big guy had to leave town this weekend, when Luke’s self-control was zilch. It was something personal with Joe, something he wouldn’t share with Luke.
And you’re surprised at that because...
No, he wasn’t surprised. Just concerned. Joe looked pained about something. When he told Luke it was personal, he’d been as rigid as a gun barrel and, paradoxically, more emotional than Luke had ever seen him. Luke had wanted to probe, but Joe had turned away and the opportunity was lost.
Then there was that phone call from him later, saying he was taking Suzanna with him on the pilgrimage. Now that was screwy.
Or was it?
Hmm. Luke wondered if they were getting it on. He laughed out loud in the quiet of his car. Like teenagers thinking about their parents having sex, Luke just couldn’t imagine old Joe and Suzanna doing it. Besides, the Ice Man wouldn’t break Secret Service rules if the Cabinet ordered him to.
Now, Luke—he’d break every rule in the book for Kelsey. He pounded the steering wheel and stared hard at her house—a small two-story just outside of the main downtown area. Painted a pretty gray with black shutters, it was a typical suburban home, something Luke could have sworn he’d never want. But tonight, in the cold of March that surrounded him, he could picture himself sharing a house like that with Kelsey. Hell, he’d live in a pup tent if he could have her.
He laid his head down on the steering wheel. Oh, hell! He was really losing it. How many times did he have to tell himself that she was off-limits? That when the undercover job was over, he had to leave Fairholm and sever contact with all of the people here, in order to continue with the operation. There was simply no way out of it. For him, or for Joe. Suddenly Luke hoped Joe wasn’t getting into any kind of relationship with Suzanna.
The soul-searching knocked some sense into Luke’s thick skull and made him reach to start the engine—until a black Camaro pulled into Kelsey’s driveway. He knew that car. He’d seen Mike Wolfe swagger to it, rub smudges off its shiny exterior, and slide in it like Mr. I’m-Too-Sexy-for-the-World. To release the pressure in his chest, he spat out, “Goddamn fucking son of a bitch.” But he didn’t drive away.
Kelsey’s front door opened, and a shadowy figure let Wolfe in. Luke waited a half-hour for him to leave. Geez, she’d be tired tonight. What the hell was the guy doing, coming this late, overstaying his welcome?
Well, just maybe Luke was going to have to find out. He stormed out of his car and headed for the house. He had a pretty good idea, from the lights that were on, where she’d been all night. Slowly, he crept up the lawn, cursing the crunch of the snow under his boots. He was glad when the wind picked up and blocked out any sound he made, even if it was getting colder. His ears stung, and he slipped on his gloves. The air sliced right through his bomber jacket, so he zipped it up. Sneaking around to the side of the house, he scoped out the windows. There were two of them, on either side of the fireplace. The blinds on one were closed. He jogged to the other window.
Open blinds. Shit, she should be more careful. Unsavory characters could be looking in on her—not somebody like Luke, who was concerned about the Big Bad Wolfe inside. He found a position where he could peer into the room but not be seen from the house.
They were there, sitting on a couch. She was scrunched into the corner, surrounded by bed pillows, as if she’d sidled as far away from him as she could get. She wore a thermal shirt and pj bottoms; her leg was elevated on the coffee table. Wolfe was holding her hand, inching closer, talking to her, sliding his fingers up and down her leg. Luke couldn’t hear what the creep had to say, but he saw Kelsey shake her head.
Wolfe’s bodybuilder chest leaned into her. Luke’s heart began to hurt.
Wolfe’s mouth grazed that lovely hair; Luke had wondered a million times what those silky-looking strands felt like. Remembered vividly what it smelled like.
The jerk worked his way down, kissed her nose. Luke’s throat closed up.
The guy put his lips on her cheek. Then took her mouth. Luke felt his insides knot.
Wolfe’s hand came up and clasped her throat. When it headed south, for her breast, Luke looked away.
He wanted to die.
He was just about to leave, unable to tolerate watching some other man touch Kelsey intimately, when he felt a hand collar him. “Okay, kid. What’re you doing here?”
o0o
Christ, the man was an octopus. Kelsey was trapped between the pillows and Mike Wolfe’s hard body. She’d tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. When his mouth worked its way down to hers, she thought, Why not? He’d kissed her before, though she hadn’t found his practiced technique particularly stimulating.
He wanted more than a kiss. Pumped up on drugs for her knee, still disturbed by the events of the day before—and thinking about Luke Ludzecky, of all things—she let Mike’s hand go to her throat. It was big and warm, but felt vaguely foreign, somehow not right. So when he went for her breast, she grabbed his wrist.
He drew back. “What is it?”
“A lot of things.” She studied his face. His expression was that of a man aroused. Since she didn’t feel the same, she said, “For one, we haven’t been dating very long.”
“A few weeks.” He glanced at her chest. “Enough for this.”
“I’m not sure I agree. But second, I’m in pain, Mike. I just took a Percocet, I’ve been on muscle relaxants for two days, and I’m woozy.”
“Oh, uh, sorry.” His eyes lit up. “I could ease the pain.”
“No thanks.” She was about out of patience. The incident yesterday had drained her; what the confrontation with Webster hadn’t taken out of her, the medicine had.
Because of that, she’d called her father and asked him not to come down today but wait until tomorrow. She hadn’t wanted any company, including Mike. “Look, Mike, maybe you misunderstand our whole—” The doorbell halted her when she was about to tell him that continuing to date him was probably not such a hot idea.
“I need to see who’s at the door.” When he didn’t move, Kelsey pulled her princess routine. It worked like a charm on
most men. “Let me up, please.”
“I could, um, get it.”
“No, thanks. I’d like to do it myself.” Shakily, she rose, grabbing onto the table to steady herself. For a moment, the world tilted, then righted itself. She took the crutches and hobbled to the foyer, breathing in to clear her head. After checking the peephole, she pulled open the door.
A police officer and Luke Ludzecky stood on her porch. The blast of cold air momentarily revived her. “Hi,” she said to Luke. Then she looked at the officer. “What’s going on?”
“We caught this kid outside your window, playing Peeping Tom.”
“What?” Her stomach dropped at the thought of what Luke might have witnessed between her and Mike.
“He says he was checking to see if you were up; he didn’t want to wake you if he rang the bell and you were asleep. He says you had some kind of accident yesterday and he wanted to see if you were all right.”
She lifted a crutch. “He’s right about that.” The dizziness returned full force. She had to blink to keep the cop in focus.
“Look, we got an order to watch your house this weekend. That maybe some kid from school might bother you. I say we caught him.”
“I say so, too.” Mike appeared in the doorway. Sparing him a glance, Kelsey could see the flush on his face.
She said, “Whoever ordered you to come here wasn’t after Luke. If he says he was checking to see if I was awake, then he was.” She smiled at Luke. “Come on in.” She donned her princess look again. “Thank you, Officer. This young man is fine with me. He’s one of my students.”
“I don’t think it’s a very good idea,” Mike put in.
“Why don’t you leave with the officer, Mike? I’d like to talk to Luke alone.”
Mike straightened to his full six feet and postured almost comically. “The hell I will.”
“Surely you don’t mean you’re refusing to leave my home when I ask you to.”
Wolfe glanced from her to Luke and back again. “I don’t like this, Kelsey.” He regarded the young man intently. “First I catch you two alone in the weight room. Then he was in the nurse’s—”