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The kid doesn’t seem to notice my darkening mood. He just stares at me with knowing eyes. “You should marry her.” Again, a statement. “She’s pretty and nice, and she’d play the piano for you all the time.”

I feel one corner of my mouth lifting in amusement. Until he speaks again.

“You could have kids and I could come and play with them. And teach them all the superhero stuff while you’re out fighting the bad guys.”

I’m frozen in my seat. He doesn’t notice my reaction and turns his attention to the next pew, where a towheaded little girl is sticking her tongue out at him. After he returns the gesture, he scoots back down to sit by his mother. And still, I can’t seem to move.

Kids. Wife. Kids.

These are words I have studiously avoided. What kind of father would I make? What kid should be saddled with someone like me as a parent? The pang in my chest is back, and I rub the spot to ease the ache as my eyes drift up to the piano again. She will be an incredible mother someday. With someone as untainted as she is by her side.
Someone like Jack.

Bitterness and jealousy burn in my chest. An unbidden image comes to my mind—J floating down the aisle of this church, her face filled with every bit of the happiness I see on it right now. Only it isn’t Jack waiting for her at the altar. It’s me.

She’s mine. It should be me.

I shake my head to dislodge the thought, but it’s there now. Even though I lock it up tight in the recesses of my mind, it remains.

Just then, she makes eye contact with me. Her eyes are glowing and happiness radiating from her. She’s winding down now, playing “Homeward Bound,” a sweet folk song about missing your loved ones and the joy that is felt when you know your journey is almost through and you’ll be homeward bound again. Homeward bound.

What the hell am I thinking?
Once this is over, she’ll be headed back to her real life. To her father, her performing, and another fucking Ken Doll boyfriend. But tonight, I’m the one she’ll go home with.

Tonight, she’s still mine.

All of a sudden, an uneasy feeling skitters across my skin. Looking to my right, across the aisle and two rows back, I see Jack sitting there staring intently up at J. He must feel my eyes on him, because his head turns and we lock eyes. There is suspicion in his, as well as . . . jealousy? I can’t help the smug look that comes over my face.

That’s right, shithead. She’s mine.

He glances up at her again, and when his gaze returns to mine, I harden my face, slowly shaking my head. I know he gets the message to stay the fuck away from my girl. With one last look in her direction, he stands up and heads to the large, carved-oak double doors that lead to the front lawn of the church.

I follow his movements with my eyes until I’m sure he is out of the building. Then I turn back around in my seat to see Cupcake striding toward me, her hands on her hips, glaring. She obviously saw my exchange with Jack. I sigh, knowing a fight is brewing. She opens her mouth, most likely to hand me my ass, but is interrupted by several members of the congregation gushing out their admiration and approval. A pretty blush blossoms on her cheeks when they beg her to come back and play for them again soon. I’m sure she was plied with compliments and praise after every professional performance, making me wonder what it is about this crowd that makes her bashful.

When the crowd finally disperses, I grab our jackets and her purse before standing to leave. As we walk down the aisle, I automatically reach for her hand. She jerks it away though, and I turn to her, raising a brow in question. At the expression on her face, I remember. Right—kitten has her claws out. I take her arm and gently steer her out the door and off to the side of the building where the darkness keeps us mostly hidden from view.

“What was that about?” she hisses.

Before I can stop myself, I back her up against the stone wall, forcing her to tilt her head almost all of the way back in order to look into my eyes. “I was simply making it clear that he should stay the fuck away from what’s mine.”

Kitten’s eyes narrow and she pulls out a claw, poking me in the chest with it. “Yours?”

I press her a little harder against the wall. “Mine.”

“First of all, I don’t know what gives you the right to ‘claim’ me like a caveman and I’m his shiny, new cave. But even if I were okay with that, you didn’t have to be such an ass about it.”

“I’m pretty sure the three orgasms I gave you today make it damn clear who you belong to.” As I say the words, I know it’s true. I’m not going to let her go, she’s fucking mine. I lower my head and kiss the sensitive little spot behind her ear before nibbling on her lobe.

She gasps, “Don’t say orgasms at church, Slade.”

“Why? You think God isn’t aware of why you were calling out his name this morning?” I bite on her lobe a little harder this time.

She sucks in another quick breath, but her outrage fading under the arousal I can hear in her exhale. I place a hand on each side of her head, pressing in all the way so that our bodies are flush against one another, and I feel her hardened nipples brushing against my chest. Definitely more arousal that anger. In some back part of my mind, it registers that we are outside a church, but I figure I’m going to Hell anyway, so I move in for the kill.

“Does frat boy get to put his mouth on you?” I breathe in her ear.

She shakes her head.

“Does he get to suck on those pretty nipples?”

Another shake.

“Does he get to slide his cock into your dripping pussy and make you scream his name?”

A tiny little moan escapes her mouth.

“Who gets to do those things, baby?”

When she doesn’t answer right away, I shift closer and let her feel just how hard I am, pulling on her earlobe with my teeth . . .

“Answer me, baby. Who gets to lick you and taste your sweet sugar?”

“You.” She whispers it so low that I almost don’t hear it.

“What’s that?”

“You,” she says again, a little louder.

“Are you mine?”

She sighs, resigned. “Yes.”

“Damn straight.” I cover her mouth with mine, diving into a deep kiss. Then I bring my hands to her shoulders, sliding them down—

“Ahem!”

I stop abruptly at the stuttered sound. I lift my head, turning it to see Bill’s reproving eyes and I shrug sheepishly. “Sorry, Bill.”

He rolls his eyes, but there is humor behind the stern expression on his face. “Take it off church grounds, Mr. Slade.”

I feel heat on my cheeks.
You’re fucking blushing, dude?
“Of course.”

I grab J’s hand and pull her in front of me, using her as a shield to hide the bulge in my pants. Her head is down, but I can see that her face is bright red as we quickly make our way to the exit. Once we are outside, she covers her face with her hands and her shoulders begin to shake.

I made her cry.
Fuck!

As I start to take her into my arms, I hear a soft . . . Is that . . . Did she just giggle? I remove her hands from her face and sure enough, she’s laughing. Without her hands to mute the sound, she’s full-on belly laughing.

“I-I just got caught . . .” She sucks in a deep breath of air. “I just got caught making out at church!”

I find myself laughing along with her. Mostly because the ridiculousness of the situation is funny as hell, but also because her laughter is infectious.

“I’ve never . . . I’ve never done anything like that.” She gasps the words, bent over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Made out at church? Me neither.”

“No!” Her laughter is subsiding now as she tries to catch her breath. “No. I’ve never broken the rules like that. Done something so crazy and a little reckless.”

The smile on her face is big and bright, chasing away any residual worry I had that she might be upset by the situation.

“How’s it feel, Cupcake?” I grin at her and wiggle my eyebrows.

She falls into a fit of giggles once again. “It feels . . .” She gets a mischievous look in her eye and glances back at the church doors. “It feels fucking great!”

I throw my head back and laugh harder than I have in years. This woman is pure sunshine and she is breathing life back into me when I didn’t think that would ever be possible.

Once our laughter subsides again, I throw my arm around her shoulders and steer her towards my black pickup. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”

When we reach the truck, I notice something fluttering under windshield wiper. As I go around to the driver’s side, I grab the torn piece of paper and feel the hair on the back of my neck rise, unease trickling down my spine. My eyes scan the area, but don’t see anything at first, then I notice a dark compact car parked on the street about twenty yards away. I stare intently, trying to make out if someone is in the car. My instincts are telling me to just get out of here and get J somewhere safe, so I shove the paper in my pocket before climbing into the cab.

She eyes me quizzically from her seat. “What was that?”

“Nothing, baby. Just a leaflet.”

She stares at me for another moment. Somehow, she’s learning to see beyond my lies. But I’ve been doing this too long. I’m too good at it.

I adopt a carefree grin and lean over to give her a quick kiss. “Really. It’s nothing.”

She returns my smile and shrugs. “Okay.”

I start the truck and pull out into the road, heading the opposite direction of the parked car. As we rumble down the street, I give one last glance in the rearview mirror to the dark vehicle behind us. This time, I see the slightest of movements. Someone is in that car. So I check out the road ahead, and then my eyes return to the mirror. This time when I see movement, the moon shines down, revealing the light color of the person’s hair and shirt. As much as I want to go back and investigate a little more, I won’t put her in danger. Instead, I bring my eyes to the road ahead and hit the gas. We aren’t being followed, but I don’t find any real comfort in that fact.

When we finally pull into the back parking lot of the bar, I shut the truck off before going around to open her door and help her down. When her feet hit the ground, she presses into me and whispers, “I bought something special for you the other day.”

I keep the grin on my face and look down at her. “Yeah?”

She smiles coyly. “Mmhmm. So give me about fifteen minutes and then meet me upstairs, okay?”

I’m momentarily distracted from my other thoughts, my grin becoming real. “How about ten?”

Her laugher echoes in the cool night breeze. “Okay, ten. But ten
full
minutes, Derek. I mean it.”

This time, I laugh and nod. We walk inside together and I give her a smack on the ass as she heads up the stairs, then cross over the landing to go into my office, shutting the door behind me. Alone, I finally pull the paper out of my pocket and look at it.

THE GENERAL TZO’S chicken from my late dinner threatens to make a reappearance and mock me. It’s been nine days. Nine fucking days since that asshole, Gideon, cracked me across the head with the butt of his gun. I’d trusted that, with my handsome payment for his services, he’d be the fucking minion I’d paid him to be—not turn on me at the most critical moment of the exchange.