Did she have a sage stick lying around? It wouldn’t hurt to purge the lingering bad vibes with a quick smudge. She had a thing for California sagebrush—especially after learning the shrub was a part of the sunflower family. Fitting, right?
Ari snuffled and sighed. She was falling into a deep sleep. Moving quietly, Summer lay her on the bed between two pillows. She watched her for a few seconds to see if she’d fuss, and when she didn’t, Summer quickly changed into yoga pants, her bunny slippers, and a loose-fitting sleep top. Her internal debate over bra versus no bra was ruthlessly ended by a desire for comfort. It was one thing to have big boobs and another thing entirely to deal with big lactating boobs. She could only strap the girls down for so many hours a day.
Before Arnie came marching back with her tea, she scooped up the baby, wrapped her more securely in her fluffy blanket, and headed into the living room. She knew they had to talk, and she didn’t want to be sitting on a bed when they did. Too much temptation, all of it on her part.
“What is all this?” she asked after placing the sleeping baby in her playpen.
The living room was littered with white cards, and the two large gouges in the walls were hard to miss.
“Evidence markers,” Arnie replied from the kitchen. “The cards were placed by the forensics team to indicate evidence, and the mess is from them digging bullets out of the drywall. I’ll clear everything away.”
“Oh.” Not eloquent but she didn’t care.
Collapsing in a loose-limbed heap, she scooted into a corner and propped herself against the arm of the sofa. Her tired hands automatically pushed long waves of hair away from her face. She rubbed her nose and quietly moaned.
“One mug of piping hot lemon ginger chamomile,” Arnie quietly murmured as he crossed the room with the steaming beverage. He set it on the coffee table and glanced into the playpen.
“I imagined a lot of things, but you punching Giselle wasn’t on the list of possibilities. Also, I can’t believe you had our daughter in a sling the whole time or how she slept through it all.”
The tea was hot, fragrant, and perfectly sweetened. Did he remember how she liked it, or was he just lucky? Her first sip ended with a sigh. The second sip transported her to a calmer place.
“Yes, well, the witch was going to shoot you, and I just reacted.” She shrugged off her act of great daring as though it didn’t matter. “As for the baby, she likes the sling, and is used to activity. I tend to move a lot.”
“You jumped in front of a loaded gun. Remember me whining about feeling emasculated when you paid for our date? Well, times that by a million,” he drawled with cheeky conceit. His voice was deep and velvety. “And about your love of activity, the way you dance and move is etched on my brain.”
Quickly glancing away, she fussed with the tea, her hair, a string hanging off the hem of her shirt—anything not to look at him.
His soft snicker made her toes curl. “Is it so hard to look at me?”
Arrogant as a standalone description had plenty of uses. Cocky arrogance took it to an eleven and perfectly described the man staring her down. She clenched her jaw. The gleam in his blue eyes made her want to scream, so it was no wonder she made a verbal attempt to kick him in the shins.
“And who is doing the asking? Hmm? Arnie? Darnell? Agent Wanamaker?”
Thinking she had him by the short hairs, Summer expected a contrite answer followed by a lengthy explanation.
“Actually, babe, it’s special agent but only when the Bureau is yanking my leash.”
She blinked. When he didn’t continue, she scowled to make her displeasure abundantly clear.
“May I sit?” he asked with a pointed nod at the empty space beside her.
He got bonus points for asking rather than assuming it was okay. She waved her permission. When he sat, she had to give her inner bad girl a harsh scolding for urging her to jump on him like a carousel pony and go for a ride.
Sniffing away her stupidity, she got grumpy and demanded he start talking. “Explain the name game, please. Who exactly am I speaking to?”
He grinned. She chomped on the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting to the devilish smirk.
Taking out his wallet, he picked out a card and handed it to her. It was his New York driver’s license.
“Legal name. Darnell Templeton Wanamaker the third.”
She studied the picture, memorized the address in case he disappeared again, and handed it back.
“Is Arnie a nickname?”
“No,” he answered far too quickly.
She sat back, a little stunned by the vehemence in his voice, and raised her brows.
He reacted to her astonishment. “Sorry. Let me rephrase, okay?”
Nodding, she tried to read between the lines by watching and carefully listening.
“According to my father, there was never any doubt what name his firstborn son would have. My grandfather, his dad, is Darnell Senior. My dad is junior, but he goes by Ned. My mother was a good-natured realist and went along with the family tradition. The first time she held me, though, she called me Arnie.”
His shrug was not indifferent—it was an indicator of deep feelings.
“We only had a few days together, and through it all, she only called me Arnie. When she was gone, Dad shut down. He wouldn’t allow anyone except a rare few who loved my mother to use the name.”
“Ah, this explains why your stepmother called you Darnell.”
“Yes. Exactly,” he somberly concurred. “Over time, once I was old enough to have input, it became the name I used with friends. Is it a professional pseudonym? Depends on the timeframe. The government has a thing about name and rank, but NIGHTWIND doesn’t give a shit what I call myself. You have no idea how sorry I am for the name roulette confusion.”
“The hotel had no idea who Arnie Templeton was.”
“I heard you tell the detective.” He cringed. “And my security designation prevented your friends and brother from digging.”
“You knew?”
“Only recently. And before you say anything else, I should tell you I’ve spoken with Reed.”
She jerked with surprise. “What? My brother?”
“The very same. Captain Reed Warren.”
“When?”
“Earlier.”
“Why?” It was difficult to fathom what he was saying.
“It was the right thing to do. I wanted him to hear what happened from me. He deserved a full explanation.”
Grappling with what he was telling her, Summer didn’t see his hand move until he stroked her shoulder.
“I’ve missed you, golden girl.”
Shocked and dismayed at how she reacted to his touch, she shifted her shoulder away and frowned. It was too soon to act like the last year was a walk in the park.
“So it was her legal advisor who alerted you? He was with her when she came to the restaurant and tried to buy my baby. Why did you trust him?”
“Everyone has a hard limit.” He gave a salty sounding snort. “Lawyers know where the line is, and hers was no exception. Being a vile human being isn’t illegal. He was on board and was paid handsomely for his assistance until Giselle short-circuited. Attempted kidnapping and human trafficking upped the ante. No one has time for Ruth Lescunt,” he quipped with air quotes and a snarl, “so he hedged his bets and wisely chose to pull the alarm when it was clear she was capable of anything.”
A yawn so big she shook from head to toe ended their conversation. He murmured things, but she’d hit the wall for real this time and could barely keep her eyes open.
32
Arnie wasn’t surprised when she fell asleep in mid-sentence. Her exhaustion was easy to see and hear. She’d been through a lot—too much—and he was responsible for all of it. Even Giselle’s insanity, because Summer would never have been in the woman’s bull’s-eye if not for him.
His eyes shifted to the playpen. He was having a hard time processing the reality of fatherh
ood. Discovering he had a daughter rattled him big time and seriously damaged his sense of being a decent guy. Decent guys didn’t have surprise babies.
But his feelings mattered very little once he held the tiny wriggling baby in his hands. She was perfect and beautiful like her mommy. When she looked at him, he felt his soul stick to hers. They were bonded—the three of them. Daddy, mommy, and baby.
Nothing was ever going to be the same, and he better get his fucking act together if he expected Summer to forgive him sometime this century. She bounced back and forth between welcoming and damning him. Right now, it could go either way. He had to be careful, or he’d end up banished from her life once the sun came up.
Watching her sleep was a luxury he never thought he’d have again, but here she was, within touching distance. He shifted closer and gently guided her head to his shoulder. She groaned and curled into him, seeking comfort he was anxious to give.
Her sweetly seductive scent lured his nose to bury in her hair and inhale deeply. His mouth watered.
When she sighed, Arnie felt her breath on his skin. His heart ached. It had been so long, too long, since he’d held the vivacious wild child in his arms, and he wasn’t about to apologize for what touching her again did to his dick.
“Summer?” he murmured close to her face.
She was out cold.
Feeling like Prince Charming, he stood and picked her up in the same motion. She snuggled against his chest—where she belonged.
Carrying his love to the bedroom, he moved carefully and gently lowered her onto her bed. It took some clever maneuvering to pull the covers down underneath her, but anything was possible when the object of his caution snored soundly.
Eyeing up the bunny slippers on her feet, he chuckled. They made quirkily perfect sense. Getting them off presented a challenge, though. He gently lifted one foot and slid off the first with no problem. On the second attempt, she suddenly woke and scared the shit out of him when she sat straight up, wild-eyed, and wailed, “Where’s my baby?”
She had scrambled halfway off the bed before he stopped her.
“Summer, easy baby. Ari is fine. I promise. She’s asleep in that thing in the living room.”
Pushing hair away from her face, she seemed out of it and disoriented, and why not? None of this was normal.
“Do you want me to get her?” he asked in a gentle voice while he squatted by her side and met her confused gaze.
Her eyes darted everywhere. She stretched across the small bed and grabbed something off the nightstand.
“There’s another of these on the living room coffee table,” she told him in a raspy voice. “Can you go turn it on?”
“What is it?”
She turned the white object over and over in her hands. “Um, it’s a, uh …” She shook her head, and he felt her reaching to grab hold of her thoughts. “Monitor. A baby monitor. So I can hear her if she wakes up.”
A gigantic yawn transformed her face. She’d been without sleep for so long he couldn’t believe she was able to function.
He raced into the living room and located the monitor. Switching it on, he moved it next to his sleeping daughter, checked to make sure she was breathing, and hurried back to Summer.
She was still sitting on the edge of the bed clutching the monitor.
He gently pried it out of her hands, switched it on, and put it on the nightstand. When she flopped backward on the bed and mumbled something, he had to lean over her and ask what she said.
Her hips wiggled. She mumbled again.
Employing pure guesswork, he asked, “Do you want me to take your pants off? Is that what you said?”
“I’m too tired.”
Well, alrighty then. Clothes removal. He was up for the challenge.
Divesting a semi-conscious, fully grown female of her clingy leggings was the sort of event the Olympics should consider ’cause it’d bring in viewers and worldwide laughter.
He started with the elastic waistband and gave it a couple of yanks. She made a lame attempt to help by halfway rolling side to side. Once he had the pants around her hips, it took real effort to control his unruly libido when his eyes made contact with a pair of snowman decorated white panties.
She kicked her legs and wiggled until the leggings came off. When she rolled onto her knees and crawled to the pillow, he froze. The sight of her glorious ass shot dirty thoughts straight to his brain.
Dude, he mumbled in a chastising tone to himself. Get a goddamn grip.
What was the protocol in a situation like this? He wasn’t sure, so he went with concerned caretaker and lent a helping hand until she was settled.
About to quietly exit, he stumbled to a halt when she spoke in a fragile voice.
“I’m scared to be alone.”
“Then I’m not going anywhere. You sleep, and I’ll sit by the bed. How’s that?”
She looked over her shoulder. He could feel conflict rolling off her in waves.
“Um, can you sit next to me?”
He removed his shoes and clamored onto the bed like a gangly Great Dane puppy, settling against the headboard with one foot anchored on the floor. Small beds made him uncomfortable.
She wriggled her butt until contact was made. He closed his eyes and counted back from one hundred. Around the time he reached his age in the countdown, she rolled over, threw her arm over his lap, and put her head on his hip.
Why me? He squeezed his eyes closed, hoping to erase the sight of her face next to his bulging cock.
Unbelievably, she continued to sleep. He barely moved, managing to remain completely still. The clock on the nightstand told him sunrise wouldn’t occur for another two hours. He drifted off and woke up sometime later to find Summer’s hand under his shirt and her lips on his neck.
Was he dreaming?
Shifting his weight, he leaned into her, and in an instant, their long-starved passions exploded into a raging bonfire. They tore at each other’s clothes. When he touched her breasts, she hissed and cautioned him to be extra gentle. The reality check should have slowed him down, but it didn’t.
Nothing in his life would ever compare to the feelings sweeping through his heart and soul when he claimed her lips after dreaming of her kisses for far too long.
Summer was far from passive as the heat level increased, and things got lusty. She was daringly aggressive one minute, charmingly submissive the next, and very much in control of her actions.
Arnie knew letting things spiral out of control was a bonehead move, but he couldn’t think straight. Not when his arms were full of sunshine.
His hand moved into her panties like a heat-seeking missile. At the same time, she tore into his briefs and took him in her eager fingers. She got wilder by the second. Her kisses were demanding, and when she put her mouth on his neck to nibble and bite, he shuddered uncontrollably.
They were buck-naked within seconds. He fell on her with wild kisses and greedy, seeking hands.
A rush of adrenaline wiped every sane, rational thought from his head. He knew they were playing with fire, but Summer’s explosive, demanding passion ignited a tinder box of need.
Her legs parted, and she undulated in silent demand. He didn’t hesitate to reach down and push a finger into her wet heat. There was no turning back after she responded with a husky moan. Her hips tilted in a plea for more.
Their loud, rapid breathing sounded desperate. Summer’s sexy moans left no doubt about what she wanted. When her hand moved down his body and took hold of his cock, he reacted with primitive pleasure. Within seconds, he was too far gone for finesse. He reared back, devouring her naked body with his eyes.
He pushed her legs farther apart and slid both hands beneath her ass to pull her into position. Shaking with desire, she wiggled and bucked, making it hard to hold her still. When the throbbing tip of his erection pressed against her opening, the wet heat made him groan.
Her knees went back, and she undulated onto his cock, taking him inside her bo
dy. He lost it and lunged deeper. With all control gone, he rammed his cock inside her, pumping with raw, animalistic strokes. She responded with wild cries, sharp nails, and teeth. Plenty of teeth.
It was fast, unrestrained, and dirty. She whimpered. He grunted. Then they switched, and he whimpered while she grunted.
Her fierce muscles grabbed his cock and squeezed on each determined stroke. Pumping like a wild man, he lost his grip on reality as everything started to spin. When they climaxed at the same time in a loud, lusty completion, her eyes blazed, and he fell into her soul. The heavens exploded, and they were showered with a zillion sparkling shards.
After slamming into her one last time in a shaking, grunting climax, Arnie collapsed to her side, their bodies still intimately connected. They were breathing raggedly and goddammit if her pussy didn’t throb every other second.
Shocked at how irresponsible and just plain dumb she’d been, Summer pushed him away until they disengaged, and she was in her own space again.
Oh, my god. What have I done?
“Summer?”
The pleasant hum of post-coital pleasure turned to internal shrieking. How could she be so weak and stupid to sleep with him again as if the past year hadn’t happened? What was wrong with her? And for heaven’s sake, were they both allergic to protection?
She sat up and dropped her face into her hands with a deep groan of disgust.
He eyed her warily and tried again to get her to respond. “Summer, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay, you idiot.” She turned on him and shoved with all her might. “Get off my bed.”
He staggered to his feet and stood there, gaping at her. The unfortunate sight of his naked body showing ample evidence of her clawing, biting passions made her wince. His manhood covered by her arousal did not help either.
She scrambled off the bed, bent to pick his jeans up, and threw them at his head. “Put some clothes on.”
“What?” He looked stunned.
Without any attempt to explain her behavior, she snatched the robe hanging over the back of the glider and hurriedly put it on. Knotting the tie belt with a vicious tug, she pursed her lips and frowned.
Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3) Page 59
