Law Man

by Kristen Ashley

  Thank you, God.

  I moved back, closed the door carefully and turned to see Mitch close.

  “All good?” he whispered and I nodded.

  Then I moved quickly down the hall to the front door and checked the peephole. I couldn’t see anything so I put my ear to the door and I couldn’t hear anything.

  Then I moved to the wall beside the door and banged my head on it. This I did repeatedly. This was what I was doing when Mitch made it to me.

  His hand wrapped around my upper arm and his mouth muttered, “Sweetheart,” as he pulled me away from the wall.

  My eyes went to him.

  “Case in point,” I declared.

  He pressed his lips together, looking amused and knowing exactly what I was referring to. My eyes narrowed on his mouth then shot to his.

  “Do you want to have that discussion again about there not being different kinds of people out there in the real world?” I asked.

  “Mara,” he whispered.

  “You want to call your Mom here?” I asked. “Stand her beside my Mom? Do a comparison?”

  He used my arm to guide my body toward his and when he got my body close enough both his arms closed around me.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “We can have that discussion because you’re still wrong. But I’d rather take this opportunity to point out that you’re also wrong about bein’ able to take all this on your own. Now I know I’m right more than I was before and before I was already right,” Mitch stated. His hands had started traveling up and down my back in a soothing way which, even though I was strung out emotionally, I had to admit felt really good.

  “I am right. You live in a totally different zone than me,” I asserted.

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured, lips twitching, for some reason finding this funny which it was not.

  “Your mother probably wears twinsets,” I told him.

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Mitch told me.

  “Pretty matching sweaters and cardigans,” I explained.

  “And?” Mitch asked which proved I was right about the twinsets.

  “She also probably adds scarves,” I added for good measure.

  “And?” Mitch repeated.

  Yep, she also wore scarves.

  “I’m sure she picks very pretty scarves that accessorize her twinsets perfectly.”

  “Mara,” he said on a rumble that communicated he was close to laughing.

  “Was my mother baring cleavage?”

  That did it. All humor fled and I watched him wince. It was a strong one which meant he’d seen this and it was now an ugly memory burned on his brain instead of him not seeing it and it was simply an ugly concept.

  “She was baring cleavage,” I muttered to his shoulder, mortified because it was likely she was baring lots of it and it was also likely Aunt Lulamae was too.

  “Mara,” Mitch called and my eyes slid to him.

  “Even if we tried, we’d never work,” I whispered and his hands stopped soothingly traveling my back, one clamped around my waist, the other one slid up my neck into my hair.

  “Shut up,” he whispered back.

  “You live in a different zone than me,” I shared again and watched his head descend. “The upper zone. I’m the lower zone. Never the twain shall meet.”

  I said my last against his lips which had found their way to mine.

  “Shut up,” he repeated, his lips moving against mine.

  “Mitch –”

  “All right, baby, I’ll shut you up.”

  Then he did, his head slanting and his lips taking mine in a repeat performance of the open-mouthed, knock my socks off, rock my world, best kiss in the history of all time.

  I was holding him to me and pressed tight to him when his lips released mine. My hand was in his hair. He had really, freaking great hair.

  “You have great hair,” I breathed against his mouth.

  Mitch smiled against mine.

  Then he kissed me again and it was so fantastic, when his mouth broke from mine I couldn’t hold my head up anymore. I had to bend my neck and rest my forehead against his shoulder while I fought to steady my breathing.

  “Shit, but you can fuckin’ kiss,” he whispered in my ear.

  He was wrong; he did all the good stuff. I was just an avid participant in the festivities.

  This was not a favorable turn of events that was conducive to peace of mind. Mitch being the best kisser in history on top of all the other fabulous things that were Mitch, his being my neighbor and his asserting he was “into me” all equated to the exact opposite of peace of mind.

  “What are you still doin’ here?”

  Mitch’s torso twisted, I looked around his body and we both saw Billy standing in his pajamas at the mouth of the hall. His face was slightly sleepy and slightly ticked.

  Great. Caught in Mitch’s arms by Billy who apparently was playing possum five minutes ago.

  I pulled from Mitch’s arms and walked toward my cousin, saying, “Billy –”

  His angry eyes went from Mitch to me and he asked, “Who was that shoutin’?”

  I stopped and did a knees-closed squat in front of him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning,” I said softly. “Now you need to do me a favor, go back to bed and get some sleep.”

  “Why’s he still here?” Billy asked, ignoring my request and jerking his head to Mitch.

  “He –”

  Billy cut me off, “He’s around then he’s gone, then he’s around again and touchin’ you. Tomorrow will he be gone again?”

  “He’s spending the day with you tomorrow, honey, you know that.”

  “What about the next day?” Billy asked.

  “I –”

  Billy’s eyes tilted up to Mitch and he informed him, “We’re okay without you. I can watch Billie when Auntie Mara has to work. I did it all the time at home.”

  I reached out, curved my hand around his jaw and brought his eyes to me. “All right, buddy,” I said gently. “First, you’re not okay to be on your own with Billy. You’re a smart kid and you take good care of your sister but your Dad leaving you alone was not the right thing to do.” Billy started glaring at me; I dropped my hand and went on, “Second, I told you now twice that Mitch is being cool, he’s helping out and he is. You don’t get into the faces of people who help you out.” I scooted closer to him and my voice got softer. “And that was my Mom and your Grandma at the door.” His glare got intense upon hearing this news and I continued, “We’ll talk about that later but your Dad and me, we’re not real close with them and now that they’re here for whatever reason they’re here, I’ve got to figure out what to do about that. But I need time to do it when I’m not exhausted from work and it isn’t nearly eleven at night. I’m lucky Mitch was here to take care of that and I’m grateful that he did.”

  I felt Mitch’s eyes on my back as I felt the intensity of Billy’s on my face.

  “She said she wanted her grandbabies,” Billy told me.

  “Yes,” I confirmed.

  “Is she gonna take us away?”

  “No,” I said firmly.

  “Is she gonna try?” he pushed.

  “Maybe,” I replied honestly.

  His eyes slid to Mitch then back to me. “Is he gonna help you keep us here?”

  “Like I said, buddy, that’s what Mitch does. It’s who he is. He helps people,” I reminded him.

  Billy’s eyes moved back to Mitch. “Are you gonna go away again?” he demanded to know.

  Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

  I twisted and looked up at Mitch.

  “I never went away before, Bud,” Mitch replied. “I’m always across the breezeway.”

  “You went away,” Billy accused but he was wrong. I sent Mitch away. And Billy felt it. Deep.

  Damn! Damn, damn, damn!

  “All right, then, no. I’m not gonna go away again,” Mitch stated.

  Damn! Damn, damn, damn!

  I was staring at Mitch with a
ngry eyes because he was making promises I couldn’t keep.

  “Billie likes you,” Billy told Mitch.

  “I like her,” Mitch told Billy.

  Billy studied Mitch and Mitch stood there letting him.

  Then Billy made a decision. “I’m goin’ back to bed, Auntie Mara.”

  Well thank goodness for that. I knew it was just a reprieve but at that moment I needed a reprieve.

  I turned to him. “Okay, buddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Billy looked up at Mitch. “You’re back tomorrow?”

  “I’m back tomorrow,” Mitch confirmed.

  Billy nodded, looked at me, then turned and walked away.

  I stayed in my squat watching until the door closed behind him then I shot up, marched to Mitch, grabbed his hand and tugged him to the front door. I opened it to pull him outside so I could give him what for in the breezeway where Billy couldn’t hear but Mitch moved. His hand went to the door, he closed it then he maneuvered me so my back was against it and he was against my front, pinning me in.

  Then his hands were at my hips and sliding around to my back as he said, “Oh no, sweetheart.”

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” I hissed quietly, my hands on his shoulders pressing and his face got so close to mine it was all I could see, so I stopped pressing.

  “If you think for one fuckin’ second that you can kiss me like that. Then the Trailer Trash Twins darken your door. Then Billy comes out and gets in my face. And, I’ll repeat, you can kiss me like that. Then haul me out to the breezeway to give me my marching orders again, sweetheart, you need to have your head examined.”

  “That isn’t your decision,” I whispered.

  “Oh yeah it is. I fucked up a week ago, got pissed and walked away. I’m not makin’ the same mistake twice. You’re drownin’, Mara, and I’m not gonna live across the breezeway and watch. Not when that means, you go under, I lose my chance to find out what else you can do with that mouth and I don’t mean you usin’ it to spew twisted, fucked up shit.”

  “Mitch!” I snapped, getting loud and one of his arms came from around me and lifted so his hand could cup my jaw.

  “Baby,” he said gently, “take a second, breathe and think back to whatever you felt when you heard them shoutin’ at the door. And then think about Billy. And then think about that kiss. And after you do that, you tell me you don’t need me, want me gone and convince me you mean it, I’ll take my shift tomorrow and then I’ll be gone.”

  “I want you gone,” I said immediately.

  He grinned then whispered, “Mara, sweetheart, you didn’t breathe.”

  I glared up at him. Then I breathed. Then I realized the Trailer Trash Twins weren’t half done with me. Bill had threatened me and he’d also done his worst. Even hating them himself, he’d called them and he knew they could get to me. This was just the beginning and the worst was yet to come.

  Then I thought about the last week and how I wasn’t exactly certain what help Mitch was offering but I’d be as stupid as my mother if I didn’t accept it because, Lord knew, I needed it. What was more, the kids liked Mitch and Billy had, for one shining moment, a decent man in his life and I took him away. I couldn’t do that again. If I did because I was (Mitch was right) shit-scared of what I felt about Mitch, that didn’t say much about me nor my ability to do what was right for those kids.

  I decided against thinking about the kiss. That I was never going to do and that was never going to happen again.

  I focused on Mitch. “I need to go to sleep.”

  “Mara –”

  “But,” I cut him off, “we’ll talk tomorrow about how you’re willing to help.”

  “You sayin’ you need me?”

  “I’m saying the kids like you, Billy needs you and if you’re willing to help, I could use it.”

  His grin got bigger. “You’re sayin’ you need me.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered. “Can I go to bed now?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart,” he agreed but didn’t let me go.

  I waited.

  “Are you going to let me go?” I asked when his not letting me go lasted a long time.

  “Yeah, after you give me a goodnight kiss,” Mitch answered.

  “No. No more kissing. We’ll be talking about that tomorrow too.”

  “Bet that’ll be good,” he muttered, still, I might add, freaking grinning!

  “Hello? Detective Mitch Lawson?” I called. “Do you want to let me go?”

  His eyes got dark. I liked the way they got dark and liked it so much I lost focus and since I was paying attention to his eyes getting dark I missed his lips getting closer. At the last minute I pulled back, my head hit the door and his lips brushed mine.

  He didn’t move his mouth when he murmured, “’Night, Mara.”

  “Goodnight, Mitch,” I murmured back, my breath starting to come hard and my heart beating harder.

  He smiled against my lips.

  Then he let me go.

  Chapter Eleven

  Boundaries

  I heard distant noises like the murmurs of a man’s deep, attractive voice, a young boy’s not deep voice, a young girl’s definitely not deep voice and a television set.

  I opened my eyes, looked at my alarm clock and saw it was nearly nine.

  I blinked.

  Holy crap! What happened to my alarm?

  I threw the covers back, got out of bed, ran to the back of the bathroom door, grabbed my robe, pulled it on over my short nightgown and dashed to the closed bedroom door. Then I dashed back to the bathroom, grabbed a ponytail holder out of a pretty, pink glass bowl on the shelves over the toilet that held my admittedly obsessive collection of every color of ponytail holder known to man. Then I dashed out of my room, my hands securing my hair in a messy knot at the top back of my head.

  I hit the living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining-area to see a box half full of donuts on the coffee table, empty milk glasses not on coasters, cartoons on the TV. Billy was sprawled in my armchair and Billie sprawled mostly on Mitch who was sprawled on my couch.

  All eyes came to me.

  “Auntie Mara! Mitch took us out and bought us donuts!” Billie cried but didn’t move from her place sprawled on Mitch.

  I knew this because I saw the donuts and I also knew it because she had sticky-looking chocolate frosting coating her mouth.

  “I can see that, baby,” I told her and my eyes slid to Mitch whereupon I engaged my retinal laser beam to target Mitch who was not supposed to be sprawled on my couch eating donuts with the kids before nine o’clock. In fact, he was not supposed to be in my house at all until eleven o’clock. Unfortunately, my retinal laser beam malfunctioned and Mitch wasn’t incinerated.

  “He let us get the ones we wanted,” Billy informed me and I looked at him to see he had powdered sugar down the front of the new tee he was wearing.

  “Did you thank him?” I asked.

  Billie’s head jerked to Mitch, she lifted a hand and slapped his chest, shouting in his face, “Thank you, Mitch!”

  “Yeah, thanks, Mitch,” Billy echoed obediently.

  I stood there, not knowing what to do and of all the options sifting through my mind, I decided the priority was Billie’s chocolate-ringed lips. So I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a paper towel, wetted it and walked to Billie and Mitch on the couch. I executed a knees-closed squat beside them, grabbed her jaw in my hand and wiped.

  “You’ve got frosting all over you, honey,” I muttered as I wiped.

  “I know,” she told me, her lips quirking into a wonky smile even as I wiped. “I was savin’ it for later.”

  I finished with the frosting and my eyes hit hers. “How many donuts have you had?”

  “A gazillion!” she declared.

  “Right,” I muttered. “How many donuts have you really had?”

  She lifted her hand, I let her jaw go and saw she held up three fingers.

  See? Kids totally ate more than their fair share
of food. How little Billie’s stomach could house three donuts was a mystery.

  Her wonky smile was still fixed in place. I returned it, grabbed her jaw again, tugged her face to me as I leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then I let her go.

  “I get some of that?” Mitch’s deep voice rumbled at me and my eyes went to him.

  “You don’t have any frosting on your lips,” I informed him, his eyes smiled, I felt his eye smile throughout my body and I decided my next move was escape.

  This was thwarted after I straightened when Mitch’s warm, strong fingers wrapped around the back of my knee.

  I stopped, sucked in breath and looked down at him.

  “You sleep okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. I own the Spring Deluxe,” I answered, feeling his fingers burning white hot into the skin behind my knee.

  At my answer, his eye smile went full facial and a whoosh slid through my belly.

  Then I asked, “Did the kids let you in?”

  “No. Found your extra key and nabbed it.”

  I flipped the switch on my retinal laser beam repeatedly hoping it would engage. No go.

  Then I asked in an unhappy voice, “You helped yourself to my extra key?”

  “You said make myself at home.”

  I clenched my teeth.

  Then I stated, “That wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

  Mitch made no response and Billie, who had been looking back and forth between us as we talked, look back at me expectantly.

  It was then something occurred to me so I asked, “Do you, by chance, know why my alarm clock didn’t go off?”

  “Could be because I turned it off,” he answered.

  My body went solid at this knowledge. I studied him trying to decide how I felt about him coming into my house and then into my bedroom while I was sleeping to turn off my alarm clock. Then I tried to decide how I felt about him getting the kids dressed and taking off with them to get donuts. Then I tried to decide how I felt about him hanging out with the kids and their donuts while I slept in.

  He held my gaze while I came to a decision. And my decision was, I didn’t like it much.