I laughed, not because I found the situation funny but because I was shocked that she would be jealous. She was the one who made it clear that this was not a committed relationship—even though we’d spent more nights together over the last several weeks than apart. She looked up at me, a dark cloud moving over her eyes.
“It’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not.”
I slipped my hands over her face and lifted her chin, kissing her with all the pent up emotion that’d been following me around all day. I wanted to touch her and to feel her touch me. I wanted to forget I was a fifty-year-old man with six kids and a past that still haunted me. I wanted to be nothing and everything, to love her and pretend that it was enough for both of us.
She moved into my arms and pressed her body tight against me. I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the idea that such a beautiful, young woman wanted me. But I was going to enjoy it for as long as she did want me.
I took her hand and led the way out of the building, unaware of Cassidy watching us from her office. Or of the text she sent as we left.
***
“They put you on the cover.”
I looked up from my bran flakes—a habit Abigail started me on that I actually enjoyed—and found myself looking at a glossy reprint of a photograph Killian’s department used for the press. It was nearly fifteen years old, reminding me of how much more hair I had all those years ago.
“You couldn’t find a better picture?”
“You wouldn’t agree to a time for the photoshoot. We had to do the best we could.”
I took the magazine Rachel was offering and leafed through it, finding the story with my name blazing in the headline.
“MCorp CEO Brian Callahan Does It Old School.”
It was actually more of a fluff piece than I’d thought someone as intelligent as Rachel might do. I read through the first part of it, reading about myself in the third person like some sort of stuck-up socialite or something. It was weird. No matter how long Jack and I were in business together, I’d never get used to seeing my own name in print. And I’d never get used to reporters making me into a better father, a better person, than I really was.
“You make me sound like some sort of saint.”
“You and your wife adopted four kids. You are some sort of saint.”
“No. Just a guy who wanted to make his wife happy.”
“I talked to Kyle and Ian. It was more than that.”
My eyebrows rose. “You spoke to my boys?”
“They told me how Abigail took them out of bad foster homes and took them in, treating them like her own children from the moment she set eyes on them. And how you came home and greeted them at the dinner table like they’d always been there.”
“Because they had. At least, the kids that came before them and the ones that came after. Abigail collected children like most people collect knickknacks.”
“But you were right there next to her, taking in each of those children beside her.”
“I was.”
“So you are a little bit of a saint.”
I groaned, tossing the magazine aside as I dug into my cereal again. “I wish you would tell me before you talk to my boys.”
“Why? Are you afraid they’ll tell me secrets you don’t want to share?” She climbed into my lap, opening her robe in a suggestive display. “Or are you afraid I might find them more interesting than their daddy?”
“I think you might get yourself into trouble if you go around talking to people you shouldn’t.”
I lifted her, sitting her on the edge of the table, nearly toppling my bowl. I stood, but instead of playing her game, I turned and walked away.
I didn’t have time for this juvenile bullshit.
Chapter 8
Cassidy
He was watching me. All the time. I had to sneak glances at my phone, wondering what those fools had planned for me next.
Check his desk for anything we can use against him.
How was I supposed to know what they might use against him? I didn’t even know what they wanted to do to him, and I was beginning to wonder if they knew what they wanted.
Why wouldn’t they let my little girl go?
It’d been weeks. Weeks. I kept thinking about her with those men, wondering what they were doing to her. Were they feeding her? Giving her plenty of water? Did she have clean clothes? Did she have a safe place to sleep? Were they hurting her?
I lay awake at night, my mind whirling with the terrible things they could be doing to her.
Here I was, sitting on a private jet, and she was somewhere in the darkness, waiting for her mother to come and rescue her.
“Are you okay?”
I looked up. Brian was leaning forward, a worried frown creasing his forehead. He was watching me, and that frown was growing deeper as he saw something in my eyes he didn’t like. Or maybe it was my imagination. Brian, the Brian I’d known, wasn’t capable of that kind of concern.
Well…I’d thought he wasn’t. But the pain of separation made things a little unclear sometimes.
“Did you want me to help you review your notes for the meeting?”
We were headed to New York City to meet with the head of a small clothing chain that MCorp owned. It was a meeting that could have been handled over the phone, but Brian had insisted that we fly to the city and do it in person. I think it had more to do with the fact that his daughter lived in the city than with the clothing chain.
He sat back and turned to the window. “No. We can do that after dinner.”
“Do you want me to check on your reservations?”
He shook his head again. His eyes drifted from the window back to my face.
“You have a daughter, right?”
Pain sliced through my chest, but I only nodded.
“Did you ever find yourself on the outs with her but unable to figure out what it was you’d done wrong?”
“Of course.” I smiled, thinking of some of the epic fights Brianna and I’d had over the years. “She was convinced I didn’t understand anything about her or her life when she was in high school.”
“But you always came out of it friends.”
“Yes.” I leaned forward and touched his knee lightly. “You will, too.”
“Stacy and I were never incredibly close,” he said, his eyes moving back to the window. “She came to us at a time when I was in over my head with the business. But she and Abigail were incredibly close. Thick as thieves, I used to say. When she died…”
“Losing a parent is hard on a child, especially one who’d lost enough already.”
He nodded. “The things some of these kids went through before Abigail found them gave me nightmares.” He looked at me again. “I thought my life was hard until I met the first of Abigail’s kids.”
I looked away, not able to handle the pride I saw in his eyes when he talked about Abigail. Wasn’t it enough that I already knew how deeply he loved her? Did I have to see that pride, too?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t burden you with my personal problems.”
“No, it’s fine.”
He reached up and dragged his fingers through his hair. There was still a hint of the red it once was, somewhere among the long strands of white. And those eyes…he had the most hauntingly clear green eyes I’d ever seen. I remembered lying in bed, staring into those eyes for hours at a time. He would talk, but I wouldn’t hear any of it. I’d just be staring into those eyes and watching his strong, capable hands moving over my bare skin.
I told my mother I was a good girl, but that went flying out the window less than two months after I left home. And if she’d known Brian, she might have lost her stranglehold on morality, too.
He was beautiful. I knew it wasn’t common to use the word “beautiful” with a man, but Brian was. He had that fine head of hair, but not the pale skin that came with it. No, his skin was a healthy tan, stretched over thick, ropy muscles and a broad frame that
just seemed to scream masculinity. I’d grown up in Texas around cowboys who were lithe and tan, but none of them held a candle to Brian. To me, Brian was the definition of masculinity that all other men paled beside.
I watched him, aware of how ashamed of myself I would be later tonight when I was alone in my bed. But I couldn’t help myself. He was still as virile and strong as he’d been then; he still exuded masculinity like sweat. I could see why a girl like Rachel would be attracted to him. And I could see why he would be attracted to her, too. What I couldn’t understand was what kind of a future a relationship like that could have. And why he would want something like that.
But, again, this was the same man who made love to me while his pregnant wife waited patiently at home. He never was one who thought things out very well.
We landed in New York a few minutes later. He held my arm as we stepped off the plane together, navigating the narrow steps carefully. He didn’t let go as we walked to the waiting SUV, his touch warm and safe. Again, I would be ashamed of myself later, but I actually leaned into him for a brief moment as we waited for the chauffeur to open the door.
“Have you ever been to New York?”
I shook my head. “Most of my travel was restricted to the western states.”
“We’ll have to do a little tour of the city tomorrow before we leave.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He smiled softly. “I want to.”
***
“What do you want to do when you get out of school?”
I shrugged, rolling into him as I ran my hand slowly over his bare chest. “I’m going to be a nurse. I’m going to help people.”
“Besides that.”
“Get married. Have a houseful of kids.”
“A houseful? How many is that?”
“A dozen.”
He laughed. “Are you sure you can handle that? I mean, these narrow hips…”
I slapped his chest and he yelped, rolling over as laughter spilled from his lips. I followed him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back onto the bed beside me. Somehow he ended up on top, pressing me almost roughly against the mattress.
“How about five?” he said. “I could handle five.”
“Three girls and two boys.”
“I’ll do the best I can, but that sort of thing isn’t really a conscious decision. It’s up to the boys.”
I laughed. “Don’t you think I know that? I wouldn’t be a very good nurse if I didn’t.”
“You’re going to be a brilliant nurse.” He brushed the hair out of my face and pressed his forehead to mine. “I can see it now. We’ll move to California, some lovely place near the beach, and you’ll work at a big, fancy hospital and I’ll work construction, and we’ll have five beautiful kids with dark hair like yours and green eyes like mine.”
“It’ll be perfect.”
“How could it be anything else?”
***
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped up in the soft cotton robe the hotel provided. I had my own robe, but who could resist such luxury? Brian told me to help myself to the minibar—I didn’t even know there was still such a thing as a minibar—and to order all the room service I wanted. But I was happy just to curl up on the bed and watch a little television. When was the last time I’d enjoyed a good movie?
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much on worth watching. I ended up watching some silly reality show, but it was still fun. I combed my hair and took my time rubbing lotion into my skin, wondering how Brian’s dinner with his daughter was going. I made the reservation, so I knew they must be done by now. I hoped it went well, but I got the impression from the way he talked on the plane that it wouldn’t. I couldn’t imagine my daughter getting engaged and not calling me immediately. But my relationship with Brianna was a little different, clearly.
I twisted my hair into a loose braid and got up to slip into a nightgown when my phone rang. I jumped because it was the hotel phone, not my cell phone.
“Ms. Myers?”
“Can I help you?”
“This is Gunther, the bartender here at the hotel? I was wondering if you could come get Mr. Callahan.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes. But he’s drunk and he’s causing something of a disruption.”
“Okay. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
I walked into the bar ten minutes later and found Brian laughing as he told a story to a couple sitting a few stools down from him. The only problem was, he kept forgetting where he was in the story. And he was sloping the dark liquid of his drink all over his hand, the sleeve of his suit, and the skirt of the pretty lavender dress the girl was wearing.
“Hey, buddy,” the man said, clearly annoyed. “Why don’t you go tell your stories to someone else.”
Brian lifted his glass to his mouth, took a long, deep swallow, and then shocked everyone by spitting it in the man’s face.
“It’s a free, fucking country. I’ll do whatever I want to do.”
The main raised his fist, and I slipped between them, pushing Brian back out of the man’s reach.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “He’s had a long day and he’s a little stressed.”
“Yeah, well, we all have bad days. That’s not an excuse to annoy other people.”
“I know. I apologize.”
“Don’t apologize to him,” Brian said, pushing against me as he tried to get into the younger man’s face. “Do you know who I am? Do you have any fucking idea who I am?”
“You’re a pathetic old man.”
“Son of a bitch,” Brian mumbled, as he dropped his glass, causing it to shatter against the ceramic tiles on the floor as he raised his fists to the younger man. “I’ll show you fucking pathetic!”
“Brian,” I said, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing him back. “Don’t do this.”
“I was just trying to entertain the ungrateful bastard and his ugly girl! How dare he call me pathetic? And old. Have you seen my fucking girlfriend?”
“Brian,” I said, pushing him back again even as I saw security guards coming into the room from the corner of my eye. I shook my head and they backed off, but Brian was still yelling, still fighting against me. “Brian, please!”
He focused on me for the first time since I walked into the room, his eyes wild and a little crazed until they took in my face. He suddenly calmed, touching my cheek lightly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly. “Why did you have to come back into my life now?”
“Let’s go upstairs, Brian.”
He studied my face for a long moment, his eyes focused on mine for a majority of that time, and then moving slowly down over my face to my neck, to the thin t-shirt I’d pulled on after the bartender’s call.
“So beautiful,” he whispered. But then his attention flashed back to the guy at the bar. “You have no idea who I am. I could take you out with just a flick of my hand!”
“Sure, old man.”
“And the women I’ve been with…? If you were ever so lucky, you’d have no idea what to do with them.”
He took my arm and led me, slightly unsteadily, to the elevator. I sighed in relief as the doors slid closed on the security men who’d followed us through the lobby. But then Brian pushed me back against the wall, his hands trapping me there as he came in for a kiss. I was caught off guard, so surprised that it didn’t even occur to me to fight him off.
There was this thing Brian did, this little brush of this lips, this little twirl of the tongue, which I’d always loved. I dreamt about it in the darkest moments of the night, of that touch, and missed it when I was married and my husband’s wet, slightly lame, kisses couldn’t compare. I told myself it was just a physical thing, but there was this place in my soul that knew it was so much more.
I’d missed this. Missed it more than I’d ever allowed myself to believe.
His hands moved from the elevator wall to my body, one resting on my hip while the other moved over my
ribs, disturbing the gentle fall of my shirt, coming to rest on the rounded curve of my breast. My nipple responded, standing up against his touch, reaching for him, begging for him. He seemed to understand the message, squeezing gently, then a little harder, a soft moan slipping from between his lips.
I’m a little ashamed to admit that I touched him, too. It was as if twenty years just disappeared in a second. I was that stupid, naive girl again, the one who’d only been kissed once—at my high school prom that I practically had to beg my mother to allow me to attend—the one who’d never experienced anything quite like the experience and the passion that was Brian Callahan. I was that girl, any experience I might have gained was nothing compared to this one kiss.
I slid my hands under his suit jacket and caught a finger in a belt loop, pulling him as close to me as I could. And I responded to his kiss, opening to him, allowing him to touch me in places that hadn’t been touched since the last time I was alone with Brian like this. Our tongues danced, as his hands found a way under my shirt. My breath caught in my throat, as flesh touched flesh…it’d been so long! My body remembered this, remembered him. And I wanted him.
A small moan slipped from between my lips just as the doors slid open on his floor, exposing us to whomever or whatever might wait in the hallway. Fortunately, there was nothing there, just fake plants and cheap carpeting, just a hotel corridor like millions of others all around the country.
He took my hand and led the way, opening his suite door with one quick movement. I didn’t even realize what was happening until he was tugging me inside, pressing me against the bare wall, his hands returning to my ribs where they’d been playing before.
“Brian,” I whispered against his lips, “we can’t.”
“You feel just the way I remember.”
He nibbled at my bottom lip, heat burning in his eyes, making them look like hard little pieces of jade. I remembered that look, remembered all the things it made me do. I was a good Catholic girl until I met Brian Callahan. Those months we were together…I would have done anything he asked me to do. And he knew it, too.
I wanted to do anything now.
COLE (Dragon Security Book 1) Page 36
