“You invited him to meet us,” her mom accused.
Macy ground her teeth. “I didn’t invite him. Nan did.”
Just like his mom invited me. But I wanted him to come. Why doesn’t he want me to meet his family?
She escaped to the kitchen to wash up the dishes.
The bubbles were just rising in the sink when Jake stepped in behind her. This close, she could feel his gun in his shoulder holster. When she’d seen him put it on, she’d asked if it was really needed. He’d kissed her and said as long as Tanks was on the loose, he’d need it. Macy couldn’t help but wonder what else would change when Tanks was caught.
“Do me a favor,” he whispered in her ear.
“What? Hurry and serve the pie?” She tried to sound casual, tried to pretend that her heart wasn’t on the verge of breaking into a thousand pieces, tried to pretend she wasn’t already in love with a sexy-as-sin cop who didn’t really want to introduce her to his family.
“Go with me Saturday to my mom’s. To the party she told you about.”
Macy’s throat tightened, and she turned around. “What did Nan say?”
Jake blinked. “Say about what?”
Okay, so Nan had used the subtle approach. “Nothing.”
He studied her. “It wasn’t what Nan said. It was what you said.”
“I haven’t even mentioned the party.”
“About us…not being serious.” He tapped her nose. “We’re serious.”
She blinked away several tears threatening to fall. “You don’t have to take me. If you don’t want to take me, don’t.”
He looked confused. “I want to take you. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Nothing.” He exhaled. “But do me a favor. I want you to dress in something extremely sexy. I want everyone there to know what a lucky bastard I am.”
Confused by his statement, she looked up. But his kiss silenced her questions.
“Come on. Let’s have dessert!” her mom called.
Macy dried her hands and walked out beside Jake.
Her mom reached for the pie, then pressed a hand to her stomach. “Ouch!”
“It’s infected, isn’t it?” Nan snapped.
“It’s nothing,” her mom insisted.
“Nothing?” Nan rolled her eyes and looked at Jake. “Piercing should be outlawed. Can you imagine it? A fifty-six-year-old woman getting her belly button pierced. God only knows why.”
Macy’s mom scowled. “I’ll tell you why: Because my ex-husband would have hated it. Maybe even because my mother would hate it. I did it because I’m…I’m rebelling. And if I want to get something else pierced, I’ll do it. Maybe my tongue!” She stuck the next-to-be-pierced organ out of her mouth.
Macy looked at Jake. “They aren’t always this bad.” Then her gaze shot to the screen door and to the woman standing there.
“I might just have my nose pierced, too,” her mom was saying.
“Mom!” Macy waved at her mother, then pointed to the door.
Her mom took a step back, bumping into the wall. “Just go away. I’m not fighting you for him. You can have him. All I did was share my lunch. As for seeing him naked, it wasn’t my fault. I see a lot of people naked in that place.”
“Who is that?” Jake asked Macy.
Macy pressed a hand to her forehead. “I think it must be Mr. Klein’s girlfriend.”
“This could get ugly,” Jake said.
“I…My…You saw him naked?” The woman at the door glanced over her shoulder.
Macy fell back against Jake. It was just a little thing, but he really liked how it felt, as if she knew he’d catch her.
“This can’t be good,” she muttered.
Jake glanced from Macy’s mom to the brunette in the door. Then, appearing behind her was a barrel-chested man with salt-and-pepper hair. Hal Klein?
“Can we come in?” the man asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped inside.
“No,” Faye Moore said. “You can’t.”
“Be nice,” Macy’s grandma said. “Hear him out, then kick him in the balls.”
Klein’s eyes widened, but he waved for the brunette to come inside.
Jake, going into cop mode, tried to assess the situation. Klein walked slowly, but not so slowly, considering he’d just been shot in the chest and had his testicles threatened. Jake also noted how the man looked at Macy’s mom. Something told him the woman at Klein’s side wasn’t a girlfriend.
The screen door banged closed behind the woman. Silence filled the small house. Finally, Klein spoke. “Faye, I’d like for you to meet my daughter. Melissa, this is Faye Moore. She’s the volunteer I told you I asked out on a date.”
Macy’s mom sank into a dining room chair. “Your…daughter?”
Klein nodded. “It finally occurred to me that you may have gotten the wrong idea. And since I wanted to start dating you, I figured it might need to be cleared up.”
Jake, trying not to smile, stepped forward and offered the man his hand. “Jake Baldwin.”
“The boyfriend, I assume?” Klein shook Jake’s hand and looked at Macy.
Jake glanced at Macy too, and winked. “Yup, the boyfriend.”
Jake loved watching Macy sleep, loved the way her head fit into the crook of his arm. He loved the way her nose tilted up at the end, the indentation above her top lip, and the way her hair got messy. He loved her gentle weight against him. It all felt right. As if all his life he’d been waiting for her. It wasn’t the sex. Not that the sex wasn’t the best he’d ever had. It was. But this was more.
He loved her. The truth had been driven home during lunch. He’d damn near choked on his food when Macy informed her mother that they weren’t that serious. It had hit him then that Macy might see his not inviting her to his grandfather’s party as a sign that he didn’t consider what they had as real. So he’d done it. He’d invited her to his grandfather’s party.
His first thought had been, hell yeah, he wanted his aunts and uncles and grandfather to meet Macy. His second thought was that he wanted to rub his happiness into his brother’s and Lisa’s faces. But now doubt was settling in. Oh, he still wanted his family to meet Macy, and rubbing his good fortune in his brother’s face still sounded like a hell of a plan. Even the thought of seeing Harry and Lisa together didn’t make him flinch anymore. Well, not as bad as it had. But the last thing he wanted to do was to have to explain to Macy that the woman he’d loved had ditched him for someone else.
He hadn’t been asleep for quite thirty minutes when the ring of his cell phone had him bolting out of bed. Remembering his phone was in his pocket and that he’d taken off his clothes in the living room, where he and Macy had made love after they’d returned, he rushed to find it.
“Baldwin,” he answered, hoping for a wrong number, because middle-of-the-night calls were rarely good.
“Jake. It’s Stan.” His friend’s tone was grave. “I’m at a homicide scene. It appears it’s connected to the Tanks case. I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
Jake got images of Billy Moore’s mug shot and squeezed his eyes shut as he raked his hand through his hair. Silence filled the line. “Tell me it isn’t Billy Moore.”
“I’m not sure yet. We’re talking two or more shots to the face. CSI is running fingerprints, and they aren’t back yet, but the age and height fit. We’re taking him to County.”
“Shit,” Jake said. He heard a shallow intake of air behind him. He turned and found Macy, a sheet wrapped around her, leaning against the wall. “I’m on my way,” he said.
Fear glistened in Macy’s eyes. “Billy?” she asked.
Jake’s throat tightened. “We’re not sure.” He offered that slightest bit of hope, but she deserved the truth. “A body has been found.”
She pressed her hand over her mouth, and her sobs nearly broke his heart.
An hour later, at the county morgue, Jake saw the desperation in her eyes, but no way in hell was he letting her see what he’d just witnessed.
“I want to go in there.” Macy tried stepping around him.
Jake caught her, pulling her against him. “The fingerprints will be here soon.”
“And I’ll know if it’s him in two seconds! He’s my brother!”
Jake pulled her back into his chest. “They have to prep the body,” he lied.
She went to the waiting-room love seat and plopped down. Walking over, he ran his hand over her shoulder, but she pulled back. Well, if being angry with him helped her cope, he’d take it.
The door to the waiting room swung open and Donaldson walked in. Jake had called Mark on the drive over. He figured if it was Billy, he’d have his hands full with Macy and her family and wanted someone here in an official capacity to get the details. Jake stepped beside his friend.
Donaldson focused on Macy. “She okay?”
“She’s hurting like hell.” And Jake felt helpless to do anything to help.
Mark lowered his voice. “So, it’s him?”
“We still don’t know. Fingerprints should be here in a few minutes.”
“Couldn’t she ID him?”
“He’s messed up. Bad.” Jake blinked, hoping the image wouldn’t flash again in his head. “I don’t want her seeing that.”
“Has Stan arrived?”
“Haven’t seen him yet. When he does, get everything he knows. At least, everything he can give you.” Jake glanced at Macy, still wrapped in her world of grief. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“Life can be ugly, can’t it?” Donaldson said. Then: “Oh, by the way, you were right about Brown.”
“Brown?” Jake echoed.
“The guy from the burglary. His kid has cancer. She’s at M. D. Anderson Cancer Center.” Donaldson shook his head. “I made a contribution. Anonymously, so don’t you breathe a word.”
Jake gazed at him. “I wouldn’t have held you to that.”
“Why not?” he half laughed. “I would have held you to the bet if I’d been right. I envisioned it chapping your ass every time you had to bring me breakfast.” He smiled, but the expression faded as the seriousness of the situation chased away levity. “Besides, it’s for a good cause.”
He laced his fingers together. “I spoke to Mr. Brown yesterday. He and his brother were hanging a billboard about the cancer fund. It has a before-and-after picture of his kid. Heartbreaking.”
“Yeah.” Jake made a mental note to send his own donation.
The waiting room doors swung open and Stan walked in. Macy rose up and approached him. “Is it…?”
Jake wrapped his arm around her, prepared for the worst.
“No,” Stan said.
Macy collapsed against Jake. Relief shuddered through him, and he tightened his hold on her.
“Have you ID’d the guy yet?” he asked.
Stan nodded. “It’s Ellie Chandler’s foster brother.”
Macy repositioned her head on Jake’s shoulder. They’d been home for about an hour, in bed for almost as long, but she couldn’t sleep. There was the elation that Billy wasn’t the one laying cold in the morgue. Then there was the guilt for being happy that it was Ellie’s brother and not her own.
“You okay?” Jake’s voice told her he hadn’t been asleep either.
“Yeah.” She inhaled his masculine scent. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. Being here.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He paused. “What’s keeping you awake?”
“Pick a topic,” she said, putting humor in her tone she didn’t feel. “My mom’s belly-button ring, her sudden interest in men, my brother the escaped convict, Ellie’s brother laying dead in the morgue, my happiness that it’s her brother and not mine. Oh yeah, my bills that are due next week and my missed exams.”
And the fact that I’m scared about what’s going to happen between us.
“Hmm,” he said. “Sort of a long list.” He pulled her on top of him, then looked into her eyes. “Let’s take one at a time. Your mom’s belly-button ring is a nonissue. It’s a piercing. It’ll heal. And I think her interest in Klein is a good thing.”
He rubbed his palms over her shoulders. “I understand why you’re worried, but as far as we know, Billy is still okay. And as for the fact that you’re happy it wasn’t Billy, you wouldn’t be human if you weren’t relieved.” He pushed a strand of hair from her face. “What’s next?” He paused. “Oh, the bills? I told you I’d loan you money. A
loan
,” he added quickly. “And if they don’t let you make up the tests, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll figure out something.”
Macy studied him. “Where did you learn to talk through people’s problems?”
“It’s inbred. Part of being a preacher’s son.”
She smiled. “And here I thought all preacher’s boys were hell-raisers and lived just to get into a girl’s pants.”
“I’m that, too.”
They both fell silent. Ten minutes later, Jake was still listening to Macy breathe. Sleep eluded them. He had an idea what might help, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be receptive.
Hell, she’d had a hard night.
“Wanna prove it?” she suddenly asked.
“Prove what?”
“That you can.” She suddenly sounded shy. “Get into a girl’s pants, I mean. I…heard sex is a good sedative.” Her hand shifted down his abdomen, and then up.
He turned to look at her, amused. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Why didn’t you act on it?” Her fingers continued to stroke him.
“Because I wasn’t sure which head I was thinking with.”
She thumped his chest. “You’re so crass.”
“It’s another trait of a preacher’s son.”
He caught her hand and pushed it into his boxers. She wrapped her hand around his dick. The sweet pleasure of that touch had him catching his breath, but just like that he changed his mind on what he wanted. He pulled her hand out.
“My turn,” he said.
“You know,” she muttered, as he flipped her onto her back. “It seems my turns are always getting cut short.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, well, it’s better to give than to receive.” He pulled her shirt over her head, then slid off her pajama bottoms. “And tonight you deserve to receive.”
He pulled back suddenly. “Something’s not right…. I know!” He bounced off the bed and turned on the light. By the time he got back, she had the sheet pulled up around herself.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m naked.”
He grinned. “That’s why I want the lights on.”
She got up, sheet bunched around her bare feet as she went and switched off the light. Then, with the sheet still around her, she traipsed back and fell into the bed.
He considered his options. After a moment he said, “Okay, we’ll compromise.” Reaching over, he turned on his lamp, then dimmed it down.
She frowned. “You can still see me.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “I
want
to see you.”
“You saw me in the shower this morning,” she insisted, as if once was enough.
“You think I don’t know that’s the reason you kept yourself plastered against me?”
“I thought you liked that.” She pouted just a bit. And damn, she looked sexy with a pout on.
“I did. But now I want to see. Come on, Macy.” He pulled the sheet down. “I promise you’ll like what I’m going to do.”
She grabbed the sheet back up. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to give you a rubdown.”
She held the sheet to her chest. “I thought we were going to have sex.”
“We’re going to do both. Haven’t you heard of massages with happy endings?”
“Crass!” she accused.
He laughed. “Yeah, but it’s good crass.” He reached over for lotion that he kept in his bedside drawer. “Come on.” He leaned down and eased the sheet from her fisted hands. “Relax. Let me make you feel like a million bucks. You’ll sleep like a baby after this.”
She let him pull the sheet off her. He saw her cheeks flush and wanted to laugh. After what they’d done last night and this morning, her blush was unexpected and yet so refreshing. It excited him. She excited him. And he stripped off his boxers so she could see just how much.
Her gaze lowered then bounced back up. He squeezed some lotion into his hands and rubbed them together to warm it, enjoying the view of her naked body stretched out in front of him. “You’re beautiful.”
“No—”
“Shh. You’re not allowed to talk. Just enjoy.” He picked up her left hand and rubbed the lotion into her palm. Moving up her arm, he kneaded the muscles, inch by inch. When he was done with that arm, he took the other. She kept watching him, and every now and then he’d see her eyes move down his chest to his sex. Then, aware he might be watching, she pulled her gaze back up.
Hands and arms done, he squirted another handful of lotion into his palm, warmed it, then spread it across Macy’s abdomen, moving up ever so slowly to her breasts. He toyed with her nipples until they stood erect. Then he moved to her shoulders, rubbing away the tension, but every few seconds he passed one hand back over her nipples, wanting to keep her mind on the pleasure to come.
She sighed. Her intakes of air became deeper, more relaxed.
“If you think this is good, wait until I move below,” he whispered.
After a few more minutes, he inched to the foot of the bed. He picked up one foot, and she squeezed her legs together in shyness. He gently slipped one hand between them. The moment he started massaging the arch of her foot, he felt her relax, and he slowly moved her thighs apart so he could feast his eyes on what lay between.
He finished massaging both of her feet, both calves, and when he got to her thighs, he let his hands occasionally ease inward, toward her moist center. She was ready for him, but he wasn’t finished yet.
“Roll over.”
She didn’t argue.
Slowly, using his hands to relax and arouse at the same time, he worked her over. His hands moved slowly over her perky backside and everything else. Kissing her neck, he told her again how beautiful she was. Then, after rubbing his chest and abs with lotion and donning a condom, he rolled her onto her back.