by Kathryn Shay
She interrupted. “Good night, Mike.”
Mumbling, he grabbed his jacket off the coat tree and stalked out, followed quickly by the police. When she closed the door, she found herself leaning heavily on the knob. Finally she was able to draw back and face her visitor. “This is a surprise.”
After removing his gloves, Luke jammed his hands in his pockets, and watched her, as if assessing her. Kelsey swallowed hard. They were alone. In her house. Her heart, which had slowed to molasses when Mike had kissed her, began to thump in her chest.
Luke looked older tonight. He had on a beautiful hand-knitted sweater that she’d never seen before, and the color brought out the green flecks in his hazel eyes. He seemed taller, too.
On the crutches, she swayed toward him, suddenly overcome with the lethargy that had been chasing after her all day. Luke’s hands shot out to grab her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just a little tired, I guess. And I took a lot of medicine.”
He seemed torn for moment, then said, “Oh, hell,” and dispensed with her crutches with one hand while he anchored her shoulder with the other. In a lightning quick move that made her head spin, he swung her up in his arms and drew her close.
Against her will, she nestled her face in his chest. The wool of his sweater was soft, and he felt big and strong and very male. He smelled like some expensive cologne. Kelsey breathed him in before she realized what she was doing. This was a kid. One of her students. Oh, my God. “Luke, don’t. Put me down.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay. But you’re not walkin’.”
He strode into the living room and over to the couch. Gently, he set her on it and lifted her leg to the table. Then he took the blanket and tucked it around her. She watched him through heavy lids.
“There.” He gave her a half-smile. “You’re down.”
“Luke, what are you doing here?” Her words sounded slurred. “What were you doing out there?” She nodded to the windows.
His expression was innocence personified. “Just like I told the cop, I was worried about wakin’ you.”
“Why are you here this late at night?”
He seemed to think about that one. “I, um, oh, hell, I still feel bad about yesterday. Like I should’ve done something. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
Frowning, she tried to order her thoughts, but they were getting jumbled. “Oh, Luke, I told you it wasn’t your place to stop Webster or to protect me.” She yawned now. “You’re just a kid.”
“So you keep tellin’ me.”
“What?” Her head must be fuzzier than she realized. “I don’t understand that comment.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Listen, it’s ingrained in me. I should’ve tackled Webster when I had the chance.” He nodded to her leg. “Instead you got hurt.”
Lying back against the couch, she closed her eyes. God, she was tired. And though she’d taken a Percocet, her leg still hurt.
He said, “I’m sorry. You’re exhausted. I shouldn’t have come at all, started this commotion.”
“No, it’s okay. I appreciate your concern. It’s just been a long week.”
When she opened her eyes, he’d squatted down in front of her. “Want me to help you to bed?”
“No.”
“Wanna lie down here?”
She was so tired. “Maybe.”
He plumped the pillows and drew off the blanket. She stretched out, and he put more pillows under her leg to elevate it. Then he covered her up, this time with a heavy quilt that was on the floor by the couch. “Go to sleep. I’ll let myself out. And lock the door.”
“Luke, I...we need to talk.” Her eyes were closing. “It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t be here. And in school, you called me Kelsey.”
She was half asleep when she felt something brush her forehead. But the sensation was gone before she could determine what caused it, and then the world faded to black.
o0o
Aw, hell, his ass was grass now. He’d only meant to watch her for a few minutes to make sure she was asleep. He’d turned off all but one light in the corner, ditched his coat, and dropped down on a chair opposite her. After being cramped in his car all night, he’d stretched his legs out on an ottoman. The next thing he knew, freakin’ birds were chirping outside her windows.
He blinked to clear his mind and assess the damage. His car was on the road, down a ways, parked under a tree. Conceivably, it could go unnoticed. Maybe he’d be able to sneak out without her realizing he’d stayed.
He sat up. She was on the couch, sound asleep. Her arm was thrown over her head, and her lips were slightly parted. The cover had slipped down, and he crossed to her to draw it up. As he bent over, he saw that two buttons on her thermal top had come open. The upper curve of her breast was visible, and the nipple poked against the top.
He froze, unable to tear himself away from the sight.
She moaned. A sexy moan. A purely female moan.
Then she grabbed his hand.
His blood pressure skyrocketed as he waited to see what she’d do. She drew his hand toward her chest. Placed it over her breast. Of their own volition, his fingers flexed on her. The blood pounded in his ears and his pulse rate tripled. Never in his life had he felt anything so wonderful.
She whispered, “Luke,” and her sexy utterance backstopped his breath. His eyes flew to her face. Huh? She was still asleep? He couldn’t help the grin that split his face. She was dreaming about him! It made him rock hard. He took only a moment’s pleasure in her reaction. But then, because he was a man of honor, not a boy who’d cop a cheap feel, he drew his hand away. “Me, too, honey,” he whispered and straightened.
He grabbed his coat and headed to the back door to let himself out. He circled around the side, and was approaching the front of the house when he looked up. A car pulled into the driveway and braked abruptly.
A man leaped out of the vehicle. He was big, with gray hair and dark brown eyes that looked familiar. “Who the hell are you?”
Aw, fuck, not again. Could this get any worse?
“Are you the lunatic who attacked my daughter?”
Yep, Luke thought as he faced Kelsey’s father, it could. It just got worse. A lot worse.
o0o
On Sunday night, Joe stood in Suzanna’s foyer and, as had happened all weekend, the agent warred with the man. “I don’t want to leave.” Simple words, with a very complicated message.
Sitting on the stairs facing him, dressed in jeans again and a pretty rust sweater, she propped her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. “I’m fine here. You checked the house, and Josh is on his way home.”
He wore his coat, ready to go. Purposely, he left it on so he wouldn’t stay. “It’s not that.” Though, of course, he’d made sure she was safe.
“I know. We had a nice weekend.”
It had been wonderful since last night, when they’d wordlessly shared the hot tub and their closeness had been palpable. He didn’t know exactly when and how that had happened—over a period of time, he’d guess—but they had gotten close. Too close. It felt damn good, even if it was against the rules.
“You’re thinking you shouldn’t have taken me to Connecticut.”
“It was probably unwise.”
Suzanna threaded back the heavy fall of hair from her forehead. “Probably. Do you regret it?”
He thought about having coffee with her this morning, alone, when the Callahans went to church, and how the winter sun in his sister’s breakfast room had sparkled off that honey-colored hair. He thought about her sidling close to him, seeking his body warmth, as they watched the kids ice-skate on the pond later that morning. He remembered her nearness in the car on the drive home, the way her perfume filled his head.
He’d kept her as close to him all day as he could, even when they’d all gone to lunch at a local diner and Suzanna had insisted on treating. “No, Suzanna, I don’t regret it.”
Gently, he pulled her up off th
e steps and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I have to go.”
“All right.” A woman’s eyes stared up at him. They said, I wish you could stay. The night.
“Suzanna.” He breathed the word.
She raised her hand. Smoothed his cheek with her knuckles. It was scratchy against her soft skin. “Go.”
He would. But he grasped her hand first, opened her palm, and turned his mouth to it. The butterfly-soft kiss he planted there made her draw in her breath.
Before he could do any more damage, he turned and opened the door. He didn’t look back. Just said, “Lock this,” and closed it with a soft snick. He waited on the porch to hear the lock engage. He pictured what she was doing, where she’d go. It was a few minutes before he could make himself move.
On the drive to his house, he forced himself into work mode. Into government mode. Into the robotic mode that he’d functioned in for what seemed his whole life.
Man, he was tired of this. Tired of his world revolving around catching thieves and smugglers and people who wanted to kill innocent victims. He’d been tired of it for a long time. Laymen had no idea how nomadic and isolating the Secret Service was—one year he’d had forty-two separate out-of-town trips. But he didn’t let himself dwell on that. His time with Ruthie always made him introspective, he guessed, though this weekend, he’d been even more reflective. Because of Suzanna.
“Ah, Suzie Q,” he said aloud. “What am I going to do?” His trained, disciplined mind answered him.
Absolutely nothing. You will finish here. You will leave and never see her again.
Angina-like pain gripped his heart. Because he knew that, indeed, he would do absolutely nothing.
Pulling into his driveway, he saw Luke’s car. Good. They could talk about the case. They could plan and strategize. They could try to bring this operation to the next level.
He wondered what the kid had done this weekend.
o0o
Luke let the rhythm of The Berries consume him. Lying on his bed, he closed his eyes and got into Roberta’s soulful tale of lost love.
There was a knock on the door. He drew in a breath and yelled, “Come in.”
Stonehouse stood in the doorway. Luke eyed him carefully. He’d never seen the guy so relaxed. Damned if he didn’t look like he’d gotten laid; but he’d had Suzanna with him all weekend. Unless Luke’s earlier musings had been accurate. Were they involved?
“Can you turn it down?” Joe nodded to the stereo.
Luke picked up the remote and silenced the band he’d seen with Kelsey. “Hi. Have a nice weekend?”
Joe’s face got...all soft and goofy. Jesus. “Yeah. You?”
“Not exactly.”
Stonehouse’s eyes narrowed. “Did something happen?”
“Not in the way you mean.”
Staring at him, Joe said, “Do I need to sit down for this?”
“Maybe. A year of rest might do it.”
Joe crossed the room and straddled the desk chair. “Shoot.”
“I stirred some waters this weekend.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” No rancor, Luke thought. The guy really was mellow. Thank God for small favors.
“I, um, wanted to check up on Kelsey last night.”
Joe winced. “Tell me you didn’t go to a teacher’s house on a Saturday night.”
“I only meant to make sure she was safe. Webster’s on the loose, she’d been hurt.”
“I told you her father was coming to stay with her.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t get here until Sunday morning.”
“How would you know that?”
He caught me sneaking out of her house at 8 A.M.
Luke had to struggle not to close his eyes in disgust. Talk about inept. He should be stripped of his badge. “I met up with him as I was leaving her house.”
“You watched her all night?” The coldness was blowing back into Stonehouse’s voice like a relentless February storm.
Bolting up off the bed, Luke stalked to the dresser and opened the drawer. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“You shouldn’t do that, Luke. It’ll kill you.”
The drag on the smoke calmed him. “If you don’t kill me first.”
“Tell me all of it.”
He faced Joe. “I got caught, twice.” He paced. Smoked. “I was stakin’ out the place; I was worried about her, and wanted to make sure she was okay. Then Wolfe showed up. He came over, and I...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I spied on them through the window.”
“Why?”
’Cuz I wanted to see what he was doing to her. “I’m not exactly sure.”
“They heard you?”
“No, the cops collared me.”
“What?”
“You didn’t tell me you were havin’ her place watched.”
“I didn’t know I had to clear everything with you, Agent Ludzecky.”
“Look, you’re right to be pissed. I blew it. I think I covered pretty well with Wolfe, although he stormed out mad as a hornet because Kelsey wanted to talk to me alone and wouldn’t let the police cart me away.”
“Why don’t I think this is the worst of it?”
“Because it’s not.”
Luke finished the cigarette and leaned against the desk. For a brief second, he wanted to confide in Joe, share his confusion and guilt. Life as an agent hadn’t let him make many close friends, and he really needed to talk to someone now.
“All right,” he said instead. “Here’s the worst of it.”
He told Joe about carrying Kelsey to the couch.
He left out how she cuddled into him as if she belonged there against his heart. In it.
He told Joe how she’d fallen asleep and he was going to stay just a while to make sure she was okay.
He left out that he’d been unable to tear his eyes off of her, unable to leave because that was probably the only chance he’d ever get to watch her sleep.
He told Joe that he’d awakened and was about to make a clean getaway.
But wartime torture couldn’t make him reveal that Kelsey had obviously been dreaming about him, that he’d touched her, even if she did initiate it, and that he’d almost come apart with his first, intimate contact with her.
“I left, of course, but um, good old Dad came pullin’ into the driveway just as I came around the back of the house.”
“No, Luke, tell me that didn’t happen.”
“I’m afraid it did.” Luke shook his head. “He was suspicious, of course. Dragged me back inside and woke her up.”
“What did she do?”
“Well, she was groggy as hell, and he didn’t seem to care. He got on her about what I was doin’ there.”
“Did he know you’d spent the night?”
“She didn’t know. I lied and said I’d come back to check up on her.”
“Did he believe it?”
“I think so.” He shook his head. “I’m mostly worried about the shit he gave her when I left. She wasn’t feelin’ well at all.”
“You should be worried about our cover.”
Luke nodded. “I know. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Do you ever?” Stonehouse stood.
Luke had expected explosive anger. This cold reaction was worse. It was just like it had been when he disappointed his father.
“Maybe I can do some damage control here,” Joe said.
“What are you going to do?”
“Call Kelsey first. See what I can do about that part. And then have my contact in the Fairholm police make sure everything’s square on that end.”
Luke felt like a first-class bumbling idiot. Exactly what Suzanna had called them on Friday. Joe strode to the door.
“Joe?”
Gripping the doorknob, Joe didn’t face him. He was probably trying to keep himself from strangling Luke. His shoulders were all stiff again, and stupidly, Luke regretted ruining the guy’s earlier good mood.
“You can take me off the case, if you want. This...well, as I said, I blew it.”
Joe nodded. “Yes, you did. I’ll let you know what I’m going to do.”
A huge lump formed in Luke’s throat. How many times had he heard Stash Ludzecky say something similar, in exactly that tone?
o0o
“Hi. It’s Joe.”
“I recognize your voice.” Suzanna’s tone was amused, as if it was silly for him to identify himself.
He sighed and stretched out on his bed, still dressed in his tan jeans and sweater. “Is it too late to call?”
“No, I was just getting into bed to read.”
Joe bit back a moan. What would Suzanna wear to sleep in tonight? Silk? If she was his, he’d buy her something sexy, the color of fall leaves to accent her eyes. Sliding further down on the pillows, he shook his head. This was not good.
“Joe?” His silence had been prolonged.
“I wanted to make sure Josh got home all right.”
“He did.” A rustle. A whisper of sheets, maybe, sheets that would smell like her. “He’s asleep now.”
“I’m keeping you up.”
“No, I’m not sleepy.”
“Me neither.”
He couldn’t stop himself. “A hot tub would relax you.”
Her laugh was sultry, sexy. He hadn’t talked to her much on the phone, and was surprised at how deep her voice sounded over the wires. “It would feel great.” She waited. “It was nice last night, sharing that with you.”
“I know.” His body hardened at the thought of her so close to him, all warm and wet. To distract himself, he said, “There were some problems here this weekend.”
“Really?” Tension crept into her voice. “Kelsey’s okay isn’t she? When I called over there, Reynolds answered and said she was napping.”
“Her father still there?”
“Yes, he’s leaving late tonight. Flying off to Washington, I think. He sounded angrier at me than usual. He told me I should be able to control those boys at school. I assume he meant Webster.”
“And Luke.”
A pause. “What does he know about Luke?”
Sighing, Joe released a pent-up breath. He realized he’d called to tell her the whole story. And to get some help. He was feeling deeply conflicted about the kid. As his boss, Joe wanted to strangle Ludzecky for bungling this. In a fatherly way, he wanted to help Luke deal with his feelings for Kelsey, which were getting more obvious every day. Succinctly, he described Ludzecky’s escapades this weekend.