The Reunion Mission (31 page)

Once he’d hauled her to her feet, she hugged herself and rubbed her arms self-consciously.

“Will you be all right for a couple minutes while I put this thing away?” He indicated the padded suit that hung from his waist.

She nodded, and Jonah lumbered off toward the locker room, already ripping open the Velcro enclosures on the protective pants.

While she waited for Jonah, Annie’s thoughts traveled a windy, troubled path. Jonah was Joe. That’s how he knew of the class. Why he’d recommended it.

And why he’d been close by yesterday when she’d gotten out of class. When the car had tried to run her down. When he’d saved her life.

Are you going to let your husband win? Are you going to let fear win?

She experienced the same bone-chilling dread that had kick-started her breakdown in class. Sometimes fear could be a stronger motivation to act than anger. For her, the idea that Walt could still be controlling her from his prison cell because of his legacy of intimidation frightened her more than anything else. She would do whatever it took to be free of Walt’s lingering effect.

“What the heck kind of class do you take at the police station anyway?”

The kind that helped you climb out of the morass of anxiety and self-doubt your ex-husband left you in.

Annie purposefully moved her musings around that mental quicksand. Dwelling on Walt now would only depress her, and she wanted to hold on to the last wisps of cloud nine where she’d drifted briefly with Jonah.

Nirvana, he’d called it. She closed her eyes and tried to recapture the sweetness of those moments, but her mind snagged on another memory instead.

“What the heck kind of class do you take at the police station anyway?”

She frowned as Susan’s question replayed in her head.

“Ready to go?” Jonah’s voice jarred her from her introspection. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why so serious?”

“I never told Susan where my class was. So how did she know?”

Chapter 15

“A
re you sure you didn’t mention the police station when you asked her to cover your shift?” Jonah asked later in his truck as they drove toward her apartment.

Annie leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. “I don’t think so. But maybe. I— No. No, I’m sure I didn’t.”

Annie’s revelation didn’t worry him much. Susan struck him as an astute listener, a curious sort of busybody, but not a killer. Still, he wasn’t comfortable leaving the loose end unexplained. “Did you tell anyone else where you’d be? Someone else could have told her.”

She cut a sharp glance toward him. “Only you.”

He arched his dark eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You asked who I’d told.” Sighing her fatigue, Annie raked her fingers through her hair. Jonah’s gut tightened remembering the silky feel of her hair twined around his fingers. The soft crush of her lips against his had packed a more powerful punch than he’d have imagined. One small taste of Annie wasn’t nearly enough. Her eager response at the gym had rocked him to his core.

Wrong time, wrong place. But someday...

His body thrummed with the expectation, anticipation. He wanted to make slow, sweet love to Annie as much as he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

But she had to make the first move. No way would he push her, pressure her. He’d wait until she was ready if it killed him. Which, judging by the pressure in his jeans, the pounding at his temples and the fine sheen of sweat on his back, might be sooner than later.

Jonah cleared his throat, bringing his attention back to the discussion at hand. “We’ll keep an eye on Susan. If you see or hear anything suspicious, let me know. Meantime, be on your toes around her. Okay?”

She nodded, wet her lips. “Will you stay for dinner?”

“If you want me to.” He parked on the street a couple of blocks from her apartment, in case her parking lot was being watched. When she didn’t answer, he angled his body toward her on the seat, waiting.

Finally she peered up at him through a fringe of dark eyelashes. “I do.”

Her gaze clung to his for a breathless moment before her focus shifted to his mouth. Drawing her own lip between her teeth, she inhaled a choppy breath.

“I can’t promise much more than cold-cut sandwiches and canned peaches. I need to get groceries, but I have to wait for payday.”

When he stroked her chin with a bent finger, he felt the tremble that chased through her, heard the catch in her breath. He knew better than to offer to buy her groceries. A woman searching so fiercely for her independence would see the offer as charity and flatly decline. “A sandwich sounds fine. But if you’d rather, I could take you and the kids out for a burger somewhere. Or I know an Italian place where the kids could get spaghetti and the manicotti is out of this world.”

The expression in her eyes softened. “You sure you want to start dating a mother with two kids? I thought the idea of kids gave most single men cold sweats.”

He grinned. “I like your kids.”

She climbed out of his truck, and he escorted her through the maze of other buildings in her complex and across the yard behind her apartment.

Getting involved with Annie’s family did unnerve him a little, but not for the reasons she might assume. Family was just a concept that carried too much history for him, not enough useful experience to feel confident in that realm.

“If calling it a date bothers you—” He shrugged. “Call it ‘I know you’re tired, and I thought I’d offer an easy out from cooking.’”

She cocked her head as they made their way to the back entrance to her building.

“Making a sandwich is hardly cooking. And if Ben throws one of his two-year-old tantrums at the restaurant, I doubt you’ll still be calling it an easy out.”

She had him on that point. He hadn’t the faintest idea how to deal with any aspect of parenting young kids. His father was the last model of discipline he’d ever use, and his mother had been withdrawn and all but absent in his life.

Turning up a palm, he said, “Your choice.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, but not today. I’m beat, and the kids need to be in bed in an hour or so.”

“Another time?”

She poked her door key into the lock and flashed a half grin. “Yeah. Maybe. Someday.”

Someday.
She’d said the same about when she’d get the cat she wanted. A pluck of disappointment tugged at him. She deserved more than to keep her dreams, her desires on ice while she dealt with life’s hard knocks. He hated to think of Annie putting her life on hold, suspending all her happiness until
someday.

While Annie paid the babysitter and started the sandwiches, Jonah listened as Haley jabbered excitedly about the DVD Rani had checked out of the library for them to watch. The best he could figure, the movie started as animation, then switched to live action, and involved a prince and a talking chipmunk. Beyond that, he lost track of the girl’s convoluted explanation.

“Come on,” she begged, tugging his hand. “We can watch it now!”

“Dinner first, Haley,” Annie said without missing a beat as she set four places at the table. “Wash your hands. Time to eat.”

Haley whined her protest, and Annie visibly tensed. The past few hours, to say nothing of her shift at the diner, had taken their toll on her. A fussy child was the last thing she needed.

He had no notion how a parent normally dealt with cranky complaints, but his instincts told him distraction was a promising option. “Haley, have I shown you my magic trick?”

Forget that he had no real trick. Haley was hooked. Eyes wide, she gaped at him as if he’d hung the moon. “You know magic?”

Annie tipped her head, giving him a curious look.

Jonah scrambled for a plan, making things up as he went. “Sure, but...you need clean hands for this trick. Let’s wash up, okay?”

Hands clean, Haley sat down at the table with him, watching expectantly.

Um...

“I can...make this sandwich disappear!” Jonah picked up his sandwich and waved a hand over it.

“Do it! Make it disappear!” Haley squealed, and Ben clapped his hands.

Annie’s cheek twitched in amusement.

Jonah ate the sandwich in three large bites.

“Ta-da!” he mumbled around his mouthful of food. He waited for the inevitable look of disgruntled disappointment from Annie’s daughter. Instead, she giggled and rolled her eyes.

“That’s not magic!”

He chewed some more so he could speak. “It’s not?”

“No!” The girl laughed, but she picked up her sandwich and eyed it. “I can make my sandwich disappear, too!”

And she did.

“Thank you,” Annie mouthed from across the table.

After dinner, he helped clear the table, then followed Haley to the living room with Ben while Annie finished cleaning the kitchen.

The Disney movie held Haley’s rapt attention as Jonah took a seat on the couch. Ben glanced at the television occasionally but was more absorbed in stacking his wooden blocks and knocking the towers down.

After watching the process for a while, Jonah moved to the floor with Ben. Rolling a wooden block in his fingers, Jonah replayed the afternoon’s events in his mind.

He prayed Annie’s meltdown today had been her needed catharsis. But now she needed a healthy outlet for the future, a safe environment where she could continue the healing process. Ginny would provide some of that counseling and support.

But would that be enough?

Annie was strong, but even the bravest woman needed a soft place to land when the world crashed around her. A soul-deep yearning tugged inside Jonah, twisting, aching. He wanted to be Annie’s safe harbor, her confidant, her life partner so much his teeth hurt. But that damn niggling voice that had been whispering to him for weeks now wouldn’t be quieted. The uneasy feeling that committing himself to her and her family would be a disaster.

Ben’s tiny hand grabbed the block Jonah held, and the brush of those tiny fingers reverberated to his marrow. How could he ask Annie or her children to tie themselves to him when even he had doubts about his ability to be part of their family?

A movement at the edge of his vision told him Annie had come to the living-room door. He glanced up at her and curled up one corner of his mouth. She returned a twitch of a grin, her gaze flicking from one child to the next. A mother hen assuring herself that her chicks were safe.

Haley crawled forward and punched the volume up on the Disney DVD. The cartoon princess who’d landed in real-life New York City had just arrived at a costume ball.

“Bok.”

Jonah glanced down at Ben, who held a block out to him. “Yeah. Block. That’s good, buddy.” He took the offering from the boy’s chubby hand and slanted a look toward Annie.

Her attention, like Haley’s, was riveted on the television screen as the princess and the handsome New Yorker who’d befriended her swirled around the dance floor. A melancholy ballad played and glittery confetti surrounded the starry-eyed, star-crossed couple.

Jonah sat back, leaning against the sofa and watched Annie stare at the fairy-tale movie. Tears sparkled in her eyes and wistful longing transformed her expression. His heart slowed, stuttered at the sadness on her face and his new insight.

The woman who’d raged and pummeled her imaginary attacker today until her knuckles bled was a died-in-the-wool romantic at heart. An optimist who’d had her dreams of happily ever after brutally ripped from her.

The desire to put a smile on Annie’s face, whatever the cost, slammed into Jonah with a force that stole his breath. If anyone in the world deserved a happily ever after, Annie did. She’d survived so much, been so brave and strong for her children.

He shoved to his feet, his muscles protesting, and pulled the coffee table out of the way. Stepping over to her, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance, pretty lady?”

Annie blinked at him, stunned, then shook her head, swiping jerkily at her damp eyes. “No...Jonah, I can’t—”

“Sure you can.” He took her hand and tugged her close, despite her startled gasp.

“What are you doing?” She stiffened and gaped at him with wide, dubious eyes.

“Trying to dance, but you’re not following my lead.” He tugged harder, until she stumbled into his arms. He was a clumsy dancer at best, but he shuffled his feet in a sidestep, and Annie staggered along with him, still staring at him like he’d lost his mind.

He anchored her slim body closer, so she wouldn’t fall as he swept her around in small circles, careful not to trip on Ben’s blocks. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “And I’ve never darkened the door at an Arthur Murray Dance Studio.”

A small awkward laugh snuck from her, and she turned up the corner of her mouth. “I can tell.”

He sent her an expression of mock affront. “Hey! I’m not that bad!”

The movie music swelled, and he swooped her around in grander twirls. Annie clung to him to keep her balance, her eyes brightening.

Haley noticed them dancing and jumped up from the floor. She giggled and clapped her hands. “Me, too. I want to dance!”

As her daughter twirled and pirouetted around the floor, Annie’s smile grew, and her cheeks flushed. A genuine smile blossomed on her lips, and her face glowed—all the encouragement Jonah needed to continue swirling around the confines of her living room, colliding with Haley. When the little girl tumbled onto her bottom, he broke his hold on Annie long enough to scoop the girl onto his hip.

Haley squealed her delight as the three of them continued to dance and spin. Annie’s laughter joined her daughter’s giggles, and Jonah’s chest filled with a bittersweet pleasure and satisfaction. Annie’s smile and lyrical laugh were intoxicating. He’d give anything to know he could make Annie this happy for longer than a few moments of silliness. As he’d suspected, her smile transformed her face from attractive and intriguing to knockout beautiful.

Haley wiggled to be put down again, and he let her slide to the floor without breaking his hold around Annie’s waist. Once Haley scampered down the hall, calling something about her princess crown, Annie lifted a grateful smile and a teary gaze to his.

Jonah’s heart clenched, and he tucked Annie under his chin as they made another circuit around her small apartment. Like that afternoon, the crush of her petite body against his made his nerve endings crackle and spark. Holding Annie, the sweet scent of her shampoo filling his senses, taunted his libido. He craved her kiss, the touch of her skin against his.

But as they danced, her smile warming him to his core, the hum of his body took a dangerous turn. His heart was involved. Her laughter bubbled inside him like a disinfectant cleansing the poison and pain from his soul.

The music from the DVD slowed, and Annie lifted a heartbreaking gaze that punched Jonah in the gut.

He was in trouble. The mix of emotion filling Annie’s damp eyes was much like that of the Disney princess as the dance with her true love ended. Longing and reluctance, gratitude and regret, and—probably the hardest for Jonah to bear—hope.

The last thing he’d wanted to do was build false hopes for Annie. He was no one’s prince. He couldn’t give her a storybook ending. Dancing with her had been a mistake. Encouraging her romantic notions only set her up for more heartache when he couldn’t fulfill her happily ever after.

But, damn it, seeing her smile, knowing he’d made her laugh, giving her even a few moments of happiness after the gut-wrenching day she’d had had been worth it. Hadn’t it? Or was it just his own selfish need to feel he’d slayed a dragon for her, given her a few minutes of lighthearted joy when the rest of her world seemed so difficult?

Even after the ballad stopped, Annie stood close to him, her eyes searching his as if they held all the answers to her problems.

His pulse hammered. Big trouble.

When he brushed a hand along her cheek, she trembled and raised her lips. Need slammed him, knocking the breath from him. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he couldn’t,
wouldn’t
mislead her about his ability to give her a fairy-tale ending. Instead, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back.