The Embrace Series: Romantic Suspense Box Set

by Dana Mason

  Johnny drove home slowly, wishing he had convinced her to let him stay. His new place was amazing, but so quiet it drove him crazy. He parked his truck in the circular drive and went inside the house, sidestepping the boxes. He’d been in town for a few days, but he hadn’t done much of anything. He wasn’t due to start working at the Santa Rosa Police Department for a few weeks and he had no idea what to do with himself until then.

  Besides Ali, the only people he knew in town were Mark and Sarah, who were on vacation. He’d gotten familiar with Brian Hammel and his wife Julie, but not familiar enough to drop by and make himself at home. The only thing that made him more familiar with Ali was having her naked and stretched out underneath him in Hawaii. He plopped down on the huge sectional sofa, playing that night over again in his head. She’d haunted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and more importantly, he didn’t want to stop thinking about her.

  Sarah, his childhood sweetheart, had offered to rent him her house when he told her about moving out here. He and Sarah had reconnected last year when he’d received a call from Brian Hammel about a cold case murder involving Sarah’s step-dad.

  Ali’s ex-husband, Mark Summors, and Sarah were married in Maui on Valentine’s day and Johnny had never seen a woman happier than Sarah was now. She was very pregnant with Mark’s baby and now a step-mother to Jamie—who also happened to be Ali’s son.

  The memory of Sarah and Mark’s wedding brought a smile to his face. He didn’t expect to see Ali at the wedding. He’d hoped, and that hope was what made him accept the invitation. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since they’d first met in December and he’d wanted her the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  He’d moved from Nashville to Santa Rosa just to be close to her. There were other great reasons to move here. The weather, the pretty girls, he was ready for a change . . . but Ali was the deciding factor.

  It all came back to Ali. He didn’t give a damn that she was going through a divorce with Micah’s father, her second husband. In his eyes, Ali was single and available. Now that she had told him the details, and he’d seen the hurt in her haunted expression, the whole thing pissed him off.

  It didn’t change how he felt though; he wanted all that golden blond hair and those golden brown eyes. Stunning—it was the only word to describe her. Everything about her attracted him . . . her brains, her sense of humor, her delicate, soft skin, and perfect, soft, little body. He wanted every part of her.

  Chapter Three

  At three am, Micah’s crying shrilled through the baby monitor. Ali rolled over and moaned, sliding off the bed. She pulled her robe on as she padded to his room.

  “Hey, sweetpea, it’s okay, Mommy’s here.” She picked him up and cradled him until his crying stopped, and then changed his diaper before carrying him out of the room.

  On her way down the hall, she stopped in front of Jamie’s room. It was cold and dark. The outline of his empty bed glowed in the moonlight shining through the crack in his race car curtains. She hated not having Jamie home, but she couldn’t say no when Mark asked if they could take Jamie on vacation with them. Having been kept away from his dad during the Maylyn threat, Jamie missed Mark severely. She also wanted to give the three of them family time together. Jamie needed some solid ground with his dad, especially with Sarah being pregnant. All of these changes were too much for one little boy. His dad was in the middle of building a new family, and she, his mom, was in the middle of dividing their family with her divorce from Carl.

  When Micah let out an impatient wail she patted his back. “I know, baby, I miss Jamie too.” With a heavy heart, she left Jamie’s room and carried Micah downstairs.

  Ali pulled the bottle out of the fridge and the remaining beer in the back caught her eye. Carl’s beer . . . no, Johnny’s beer. Ugh . . . who’d of thought . . . moved to California permanently.

  Carl had left for good and Johnny came to stay. She looked down at Micah, this is not a complication we need right now.

  He wiggled in her arms, ready to eat. “I’m tired. You’re wearing me out, baby. After this bottle do you think you can sleep at least until nine a.m.?” She placed the bottle in the warmer and paced the kitchen, rocking him in her arms.

  He stared at her with his fist in his mouth.

  “I love you even when you don’t let me sleep.”

  Micah kicked out, his body stiffening, and he whined again. The light on the bottle warmer clicked off. “Just in time,” she muttered and tested the milk temperature before putting it in Micah’s eager mouth. She walked back upstairs to the nursery and curled up with Micah in the rocker.

  The celestial nightlight dimly lit the room, reflecting a crescent moon and stars on the ceiling. Her troubles seemed to melt away when she sat in the peaceful space with her baby. She was so hopeful when she and her sister, Melissa, had decorated the nursery and picked out the furniture. Even when Carl wouldn’t step foot in the room, Ali still held out hope. She was sure when Micah was born, Carl wouldn’t be able to resist him. She still didn’t understand how anyone could resist such a beautiful baby, much less their own flesh and blood. But it didn’t matter, Micah’s room still represented hope to her.

  Being a single mother was never in her master plan for life. Ever. But from the moment she found out she was pregnant, everything in her life had changed and she wouldn’t take the old life back for anything. Micah was perfect and no matter what, she’d raise a wonderful, smart, and caring son all by herself if she had too.

  Micah would never have a dad to coach little league, or teach him how to ride a bike, but neither had Ali. She’d lost her father at eight. Granted she’d already learned how to ride a bike, but she still missed having her dad there for so many other important things in her life. Would Mother be such a judgmental and angry person if they hadn’t lost Daddy? Her parents were so in love, she remembered their favorite song . . . and the two of them dancing around the living room whenever it played on the radio. God how she’d wanted that too. True love with her best friend. Ali rolled her eyes and shifted Micah in her arms. Oh yeah, she’d had that, she’d married her best friend and broken his heart.

  But still, her marriage to Mark was another thing in her life she couldn’t regret. She had Jamie, and in reality, Mark was still her best friend. Even when he hated her for marrying Carl, Mark always came through for her. Seeing him happy . . . watching him marry his perfect match, well, that was a great day. Mark and Sarah deserved happiness more than any two people she’d ever known.

  Ali tipped the empty bottle up and set it on the small table next to the rocker. Lifting Micah as she stood, she leaned closer and kissed him. God how she loved him, it still amazed her how blessed she was with such a miracle. She never thought she could love someone like she loved Jamie, but that was one of the best things about motherhood, giving and receiving complete unconditional love. Funny how love drifted in and out of her life so easily in some cases, yet stood steadfast in others. Carl was gone forever, but here she was, holding the most precious gift he could have ever given her. She smiled. A fair trade indeed.

  As Ali stepped out of the shower, the phone rang and she ran for it, stubbing her toe on the dresser when she reached it. “Ouch—Hello!”

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” Johnny drawled.

  “Oh-oh-oh—no.” She sucked air through her teeth and tried to walk off the pain. “I stubbed my toe running for the phone.”

  “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  She heard the smile in his voice and chuckled. “I was going to call you today.”

  “Do you need help with Micah again? I hope he’s not still feeling under the weather.”

  “No, he’s fine. Maybe he just needed a break from me.” She rolled her eyes and snickered. “I thought I’d stop by and bring you a thank you, slash, house-warming present for helping me the other day.”

  “Really-aw, well that’s nice,” Johnny said. “I guess Micah let you sleep last night. You sound rested.”
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  “He only woke me up once, but Jamie called early and woke me with the phone. I’m glad though, I miss him, and it was a nice way to wake up. Anyway, do you need anything for your place? Anything for the kitchen, or bathroom?”

  “Well . . . I’m only missing one thing and you can’t bring me that.”

  “What? I’ll get it, no big deal.”

  Johnny laughed. “I need a bed. Sarah let me rent the place furnished, but she took the bedroom set.”

  “Oh—you’re right, I can’t bring you a bed.” Ali pulled her clothes out of her closet and laid them on the bed. “Hey, why did you call me?”

  “I wanted to ask if you and Micah would have another meal with me.”

  “A meal?”

  “Yeah . . . well, I didn’t want to limit myself. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner—even a snack, or coffee at Starbucks.”

  “You’re funny,” Ali said. “How about I’ll bring the meal to you as my thank you.”

  “Hum . . . I don’t know. That kinda goes against my original plan for a meal. You see, in my plan, I provided the meal. How about . . . I’ll let you provide the meal this time if you promise to have another one with me, and let me provide it?”

  “You have some problem with a woman paying?”

  “No—no, darlin,’ relax. I’m just trying to get a second date.”

  “This isn’t a date.” But what would she call it? “It’s a . . . thank you lunch.”

  “If you feel better believing that, then okay.”

  She heard the smile again. Her cheeks heated and she put her hand to her face as if he could see it.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Yeah, what do you want to eat?”

  “Surprise me. You’re bringing Micah with you, right?”

  “Are you using me to get close to my son?”

  “Ha, yeah.” He cursed quietly and said, “You’re on to me, sweetheart.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Aha! I knew it all along.”

  In his sweetest drawl, the one that melted her knees and her resolve to stay away from him, he said, “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “-kay, see you in a while.” She dropped to the bed and fell back. What the hell are you doing, Al?

  Chapter Four

  When Ali pulled into the driveway, a Rolling Stones’ song streamed out from the open front door. She grinned at him when he stepped out of the house.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He reached for the car seat, but she waved him off.

  “The food is in the passenger seat.” She nodded to the other side of the shiny, black Lexus. Johnny jogged over and pulled out a box full of small white Chinese food containers.

  “Good choice,” he crooned. “Smells delicious.”

  Ali entered the house, but stopped inside the front door. “My goodness, have you unpacked anything yet?”

  Boxes lined the living room wall at least halfway up. Most of them still taped closed, a few open but still full.

  “I’ve been working on the kitchen. I haven’t touched this room yet. Follow me.” He turned down the music and carried the food into the kitchen.

  Ali glanced at the folded blankets on the end of the large sectional sofa. “I guess this is your bed for now?”

  “Yeah, and it’s not bad.”

  Ali set the car seat on the high counter, placing Micah at their height. “Ah . . . much better,” she said, looking around the clean kitchen.

  When Johnny put the box of Chinese food down, Ali started searching for plates as he unhooked Micah from the car seat.

  “Hey, little guy.” Johnny propped him in his arms. “Would you like something to drink, Ali?” he said, leaning into the fridge, still holding Micah. “I have beer, coke, diet coke, orange juice?”

  Ali chuckled. “Do you drink diet Coke?”

  “No.” He pursed his lips together and shook his head.

  She took the soda when he handed it over. “Then why did you buy it?”

  “You drink it and I was hoping you might be over to visit soon.” The little boy grin on his face was telling and irresistible. “How about you, Micah . . . a little whiskey with your formula? I bet you’re pissed at your Mama for not breastfeeding. I would be—“

  “Ah—Johnny!” How did he . . .”How do you know I don’t breastfeed?”

  Johnny grinned wider and looked at her breasts before meeting her eyes. “I would have”—he cleared his throat—“figured it out two months ago.”

  Ali winced and ducked her head. “We don’t need to share that information with Micah.”

  Johnny went straight faced, fighting against his smile. “Right, sorry.”

  She had gotten a little bit of everything from her favorite Chinese restaurant, not sure what he liked. When his plate was piled high with everything from fried rice to Mongolian beef, she set it down on the table and filled her own plate.

  She reached her arms out for Micah. “Here, let me take him while you eat.”

  “What? You don’t trust me?” he asked, turning away from her outstretched hands.

  “You don’t have to hold him, go ahead and eat.”

  “No, we’re hangin’ out. I can eat with one hand.”

  She backed off and shrugged. “Okay, fine.”

  Johnny sat Micah on his left knee, bouncing lightly while Micah looked around with wide eyes. While he ate, he kept his attention equally between her and Micah as if Micah were another adult in the room. Most men avoided her baby, avoided him like the plague.

  Micah stared at Johnny with such awe. He had an open-mouth grin with a small little stream of drool falling from the corner. Ali shook her head and leaned over to wipe the drool from Johnny’s hand then from Micah’s chin.

  “What?” Johnny said.

  “He’s drooling all over you.”

  He waved her off. “Ah, it’s just a little drool.” He shifted and stared down at Micah. “You know, he is a good little guy, perfectly happy, no complaints, no whining.”

  Ali laughed a little too loud, letting the sarcasm come though. “No, you’ve just seen him when he’s happy. I think he likes you. I’ve never seen him watch anyone like he watches you. It must be because you talk to him.”

  Johnny looked down again. “What do you think, Micah? You like listening to me talk?”

  Micah smiled at the attention.

  “He must like the sound of your voice, maybe it’s the accent.”

  “Well, I’m glad someone likes it. I’ve gotten some seriously strange looks since I got here.”

  “Really, I would have thought the girls like it.”

  “Oh, they do. It’s their boyfriends who give me the dirty looks.”

  “Ha, ha, ha, very funny.”

  “Don’t worry, there’s only one California girl I’m interested in.” He lifted one eyebrow as if in proposition.

  Ali looked away and took another bite. She wanted to dodge that bullet. Her being at his house, eating food, too closely resembled a date. Bad enough she couldn’t explain what possessed her to suggest lunch in the first place. Another bad choice . . . her life was full of bad choices.

  “Does my attention bother you?”

  “No, it’s your intentions that scare me. I already told you, this isn’t a good time to get involved.”

  “I know you think that, but how do you feel?”

  She shrugged. Another thing she didn’t want to explore. Her feelings for him were better off buried where she couldn’t find them. Their night together was bittersweet, the bitter painful, oh, but the sweet . . . oh so perfect. The memory left her with a constant dull ache she couldn’t quite shake. “I don’t know. It goes against my better judgment, but I am here.”

  When she said this Johnny looked down at the baby and gave him an extra bounce. “She might like me, Micah.”

  “Didn’t you have a girl in Nashville?”

  “I was seeing a gal down there for a long time, but we broke up about a year ago.”

  “H
ow long were you together—if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “A few years,” his eyes lifted to the ceiling. “About four I guess.”

  “That’s a long time. What happened? You didn’t want to marry her?”

  “I did want to marry her. She’s a student at Vanderbilt and wasn’t ready to get married.”

  “Is that why you broke up with her?”

  “First of all, I didn’t say I broke up with her, and second, no, that isn’t why I broke up with her.”

  “Ah—but you did break up with her.”

  Johnny took another couple of bites of his food and they both got quiet. Ali didn’t want to push him, but she sure wanted to know.

  “I don’t mind if you ask,” he finally said.

  “It’s none of my business, I understand that.”

  “She got pregnant—“

  “You broke up with her because she got pregnant?” Ali’s back straightened and she leaned forward.

  “No, now”—he waved a fork at her—“you didn’t let me finish. I broke up with her for having an abortion.” His face grew stony; all the amusement he wore before was gone. “She didn’t care what I wanted, she just did what she thought was right for her.”

  Ali let her fork fall to her plate, the flash of anger from a moment before, now remorse and sorrow. “Oh God, Johnny . . . I’m sorry.” She didn’t have the words she needed. The position of a man—a father—is never considered in those circumstances. It’s a fine line . . . too fine sometimes.

  “She said she wasn’t ready . . . wanted to finish school first. I asked her to take some time to consider the alternative. I wanted to marry her, have a family, but she went right out and did it.”

  “You always hear about women’s rights when people talk about abortion, but they never consider the father’s rights.”

  “She crushed me.” He shook his head, grief clear in his eyes. “I was ready to start a family, excited even. We’re grownups, you know. Not like we were teenagers trying to be parents, but she only cared about herself.”