by Vicki Hinze
Glib. She was rallying, and Jake was glad to see it. He could handle Laura’s anger, but her being hurt got to him. Especially when he’d had a strong hand in causing it. “Did the transmission fizzle on the way back from headquarters?”
“No.” Shame flooded her face. “Earlier Monday night. I, um, took your Jag to headquarters.”
“My Jag?”
She glared up at him. “Don’t get testy, Jake. When Connor called, I thought you were in trouble, and I couldn’t get a cab. It was an emergency.”
“Fine.” A knock at the front door kept him from saying any more. “I think the security crew’s arrived.”
It was nearly two A.M. before the security personnel finished up and left the house. And Jake was worried about Laura.
With only the light above the stove turned on, she stood in the kitchen, wearing her teal silk robe and eating raspberry yogurt, God help him, straight from the carton. She’d been through hell the last couple of days, and the strain showed. “You okay?”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Now why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Don’t bite. I was just checking.” He held off a frown by the skin of his teeth. “Do we really need sarcasm?”
“What would you suggest?” Her eyes hazed, as if she realized she was facing two hundred pounds of wounded male ego. “Tears? Raging?” She grunted, then dropped her gaze. “I could accommodate you on either, but I won’t.”
He hated that, hated it that he’d caused so much of her distress. Feeling guilty as hell, he poured himself a glass of milk at the fridge. Toeing aside her shoes from beneath the bar stool, he sat down across from her, and downed half the milk. “I’m sorry about all this trouble.”
“She’s responsible, Jake. Not you.”
“Still, if it weren’t for me—”
“Don’t you dare say it. Not to me.”
Loyal to a fault, and gracious. Light from the stove spilled over her hair, turning it golden, and the urge to kiss the anger and weariness out of her tempted him. He squelched it, uneasy that he’d felt it at all. “Wanna talk about what’s bugging you?”
“It depends.” A frown creased the skin between her brows. “Have you calmed down?”
“Substantially.” Until he found out if Madeline had destroyed Timmy’s room, anyway. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. He snagged a banana from the fruit bowl and peeled back its skin.
“I left out a minor detail earlier,” Laura said. “About one of the altercations with Madeline.”
Eating the banana only made him hungrier. Sliding back his chair, he cringed at the scrape of its legs against the tile floor and walked over to the pantry. Canvassing the cereals and finding more dignity in eating Cheerios than in the kid’s stuff, he grabbed the box from the shelf, then gathered the milk carton, two bowls—he’d long since gotten Laura’s number on this—and a couple spoons.
“Which altercation?” There was quite a list for such a short time. The adoption had driven the airhead over the edge, he supposed.
Dumping the stuff on the table, he poured cereal into a bowl and then splashed in some milk. “Can I have a waiver on your shirts-will-be-worn-at-the-table rule?”
“Yeah.” She sat down beside him. “I’m feeling magnanimous.” Swiping up a spill with her bare hand, she snatched his bowl, a spoon, and then scooped up a bite and munched down.
He had Laura’s number, all right. “Which altercation?”
“The one where she tried to run over Timmy and me.” Laura dipped her spoon back into the bowl, her gaze intent on the cereal. “I threatened to kill her, Jake.”
Surprise rippled up his back. Laura? Kill Madeline? After years of her pushing Laura’s buttons every time she could? “What pushed you over the edge?”
Laura lifted her gaze to his. “Timmy was in the car. She could have killed him.”
That disclosure spurred the temptation to kiss her. It doubled and hit Jake stronger, harder, and deeper—an eclectic mix of regret and elation. Nearly buckling to the temptation, he mentally wrenched himself away and buried those inclinations. With their agreement and less than two percent survival odds hanging over his head, he’d be the worst kind of bastard to encourage Laura to fall in love with him. The worst kind.
Having lost his appetite, Jake shoved his bowl off the placemat, then laced his hands together atop the table.
“Well?” Laura moved the cereal box aside so she could see his face. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I understand.”
“You do?” Her eyes went wide.
He’d stunned her. “Don’t you think I’ve felt that way about Madeline a thousand times? At least a thousand times?”
“If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be human.”
“I’m human,” he said, watching her gather a knife and a peach from the fruit bowl. When she returned to the table, she sliced some of the fruit into both of their cereal bowls. “Back during the assignment at Eglin, down in Florida, she got to me big-time. I’d hoped the move there would get her back on track, but I was TDY a lot. She drank even more.” He debated a second, then decided what the hell. “I got called on the carpet for it.”
Stunned, Laura’s jaw gaped. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. Straight off the plane from a three-week stint in Saudi, I got summoned to the colonel’s office. He wasn’t a happy commander. Madeline had gotten lit at the club and had made a spectacle of herself. The colonel’s wife was ‘appalled at the poor example Madeline was setting for the other wives,’ and the colonel was ticked to the gills.”
Laura winced. “Ripped you a new one, eh?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jake grunted. “The worst part was I couldn’t do a damn thing but sit there and take it.”
Sympathy and a fair share of pity flickered through Laura’s eyes. “Embarrassed you to death, I’m sure.”
Jake cocked a brow at her. “Wouldn’t it you?”
“Yes, it would.” Laura tucked her foot up under her on the chair. “Is that why you never told me about it?”
“I guess so.” He knew so. Even now the humiliation of the incident stung. “The colonel issued me a direct order to get my wife under control before she undermined morale.” Jake snorted. “Who can control another adult?”
“No one.” Laura patted his forearm, conveying her understanding of his sense of helplessness and resentment. She handed him his spoon, silently encouraging him to eat. “How’d Madeline react?”
“With the usual promises.” He dragged the bowl back over. “She was ticked off, though. Within two days, she got three traffic tickets on base. I had to go to Traffic Safety School.”
Laura muttered under her breath. “Sounds as if she knew you’d be held responsible for her actions on base.”
“Oh, yeah. She knew. She got the tickets deliberately. Flagrant violations that had the MPs shaking their heads.”
“Hell hath no fury.” Laura saluted him with her spoon. It glinted light from the stove hood.
Not caring for the amused lilt in her voice, Jake frowned at her. “You could pretend a little sympathy. It was a degrading experience, Laura.”
“I’m sure it was, and I’d be sympathetic, but it’s outrageous. Madeline drinks, and you get reamed. Madeline baits the military police into giving her tickets, and you sent to Traffic Safety School.” Laura let out a delicate grunt. “There’s a logic gap the size of Texas in this picture, Jake.”
“It’s logical. The Air Force only has jurisdiction over active duty members. I was the active duty member of the family, therefore, I was held responsible.”
“Powerful weapon for vengeful wives bent on punishing their husbands.”
“Only if it’s abused.” Jake wagged a warning finger at her. “Don’t get
any ideas. The next stint I’m forced to pull in Traffic Safety, I’m taking prisoners.”
“Better be on your best behavior, Major.” A mischievous glint lit in Laura’s eyes. “And for the record, I don’t do prisoner. Not even for you.”
He grunted. “I knew I should’ve stayed single.” Yet here he was, sitting in his kitchen in the middle of the night, eating Cheerios and peaches—a hell of a combination—wanting to make love with the woman across the table from him, knowing damn well a real marriage was impossible, and he’d be begging for disaster. He’d clearly lost his mind.
He took a bite of cereal. An odd mix, but it didn’t taste half bad. “Timmy mentioned he’d asked you, now that you’re his real mom, if you’re going to stay with us or move back into the apartment.” Jake bet Timmy had fidgeted, too. Maybe even shrugged as if it didn’t matter.
Laura tilted her head. “He said if I wanted to stay, he wouldn’t mind.”
Jake debated, and then confessed. “Neither would I.” That had to be the biggest understatement of the millennium.
Laura squirmed, definitely uncomfortable. “I assured him I’d love him regardless, and that we’d discuss it. It’d be okay, but Madeline’s increased antics worry me.”
So she wouldn’t mind staying, then? His heart thudded hard. “She’ll calm down.”
“She’s drunk and watching soaps, Jake,” Laura said, deadly serious. “More likely she’ll gear up, fight the adoption, and continue making us miserable.”
“She’ll do that whether you’re here or not. If we have to go back to court, you not being here could jeopardize our chances.” That was true, but not the whole truth. He wanted Laura here. He shouldn’t, but he did. His stomach muscles clenched. “The biggest problem is she’s insanely jealous of you.”
Laura frowned and swallowed a crunchy bite of cereal. “No, it’s Timmy.”
“I don’t think so. We had more than a few heated arguments over the jealousy bit.” Jake sipped at his milk. “She was convinced we were having an affair.”
“Absurd.” Laura grunted, stilled her spoon midair, then cocked her head. “Why didn’t we, do you think?”
Remembering their wedding kiss for the thousandth time, Jake swallowed hard. Obviously because they hadn’t known what they’d been missing. “We were friends.”
“We’re still friends.”
Were they? That definition should be right, and yet it struck him as being too sparse to fit them anymore. “I was married to her then.”
“True.” Laura tapped the spoon, and faint chinking sounds filled the cozy kitchen. “Did you ever think about it? I mean, about us, that way?”
Gray area. If he told her the truth about his feelings, she’d run like hell. Had Madeline sensed the truth before he himself realized it? Her accusations had to come from somewhere. Yet he couldn’t lie. Not to Laura. “Not then.”
“Me, either.”
He wanted to ask her about now, but he couldn’t do it. He had to get a grip here. They had an ironclad agreement.
“I think she’s afraid of you.”
Jake snapped his gaze to Laura, surprised she’d picked up on that. “She always has been. I never understood why. But that never stopped her from cutting tricks like with the traffic tickets.” He lifted his right hand. “So help me, Laura, I never gave her any reason to fear me.”
“I know. Using your size and strength against women isn’t your style. You’re more apt to protect them to death.” Laura stroked his forearm, then realized what she was doing, jerked back and then laced her hands in her lap.
Why? Before they’d married, they’d often touched, hugged, or dropped a kiss on the other’s cheek, forehead, or temple. Why did they both feel all that had been normal was now taboo?
“Are you afraid of me?” Jake asked.
She guffawed. “Not unless you’re God or Paul Hawkins. I save my fear for the big gun threats.” Paul Hawkins had come so close to killing her in survival school that she still had nightmares about him. “Fear would be wasted on a teddy bear like you.”
Jake Logan? A teddy bear? The guys on staff would think Laura had lost her mind. They considered him ruthless. And he was, when on missions.
Laura cocked her head. “So what do you think made her afraid of you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe your marrying her only because of Timmy?”
“No.” He thought about it, then hiked his shoulders. “Hell, I don’t know. I doubt if she knows. The woman’s twisted. And half-pickled.”
“Every rose has its thorns.” Poor Jake looked so weary. Actually, Laura frowned, he looked ill. “Are you sick?”
Connor had authorized disclosure to Laura, but Jake had wanted to wait until tomorrow to tell her. She’d had enough—more than enough—to deal with already. But he couldn’t lie to her. And she was no fool. If she hadn’t been preoccupied by everything else, she’d already have been asking why he was physically drained. “ROFF isn’t a religious organization.”
She stilled. “What is it?”
“A terrorist group, Laura.”
Her hand slid to her chest and covered her heart. “And they killed three operatives.”
He nodded.
“Why?”
Here came the hard part. He wanted to hold her hand to lessen the shock, but he didn’t dare. “Because they’re amassing a biological warfare arsenal.”
“Down in the Everglades?” She let out a stunned grunt, paced the kitchen, then returned to the bar. “No. Damn it, no. Not in our own country.”
“That’s what the CIA believes,” Jake countered. “We picked up further evidence to support their preliminary findings when I retrieved the operatives.”
Fear streaked through her eyes, and she ran her damp palms down her sides. “Give it to me straight. What happened to you out there?”
Now came the hardest part of all. “I was contaminated.”
Laura sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you okay?” Fear twisted in her and set her to shaking. “Stupid question. Of course you are, or you’d still be in the hospital.”
“I was treated and released. I’m fine.”
Thank God. Thank God. She studied him like a microscope specimen, afraid she’d miss a minuscule sign, outrage simmering in her that this had happened to him. “Anthrax or botulism?”
“Strong anthrax,” he said. “Good thing, too. I was already suffering symptoms when I took the antibiotics.”
Laura’s anger crumbled. If it’d been botulism, once symptoms appeared it was too late for treatment. Jake would have died.
The blood drained from her face and then gushed through her. She narrowed her eyes. “You knew going in you faced contamination. Damn it, Jake. Why didn’t you wear protective gear?”
Her anger had returned with a vengeance; Laura’s defense mechanism kicking in, and Jake was glad to see it. “If I’d been intercepted geared up, how long do you suppose they’d have let me live?”
She opened her mouth to object, but instead switched tactics. “You could have pre-medicated.”
“Not without authorization. To get it, I’d have had to break communications silence, and before I could do that, I had to get the bodies out so we could figure out what we’re working with down there. As soon as I could, I medicated with antibiotics from my survival kit.”
“Oh, God. Without authorization? You self-medicated?” Her voice cracked. “Is Connor pulling your clearance?”
“He gave me a waiver due to the circumstances. He knew we had to have those bodies.”
“Thank goodness.” Irritation replaced worry in her expression. “You took a hell of a risk. I don’t like that.”
“I didn’t much care for the feeling, either. But I had no choice.”
The heat left her voice.
“Were the operatives also contaminated?”
“It’s highly likely. The autopsies will be done in a couple of hours. Connor’s going to call after the docs finish up.”
Laura filled a cup with hot water for tea, put it in the microwave to nuke it, then set the timer for a minute. “Why is it taking so long?”
“The bodies required special handling. The docs just got them this morning, and they’ve got to run a lot of separate toxin screens. That takes time. And the protective gear is cumbersome for them to work in.”
Laura looked more fragile than she had the day Madeline had lost Timmy. “It would have been really bitchy of you to die on our anniversary, Jake,” she said, obviously aware he’d foregone both protective measures and special handling.
She’d remembered their anniversary, and it had mattered. But how did it matter? He’d bet his eyeteeth Laura hadn’t reneged on their agreement. “Yeah, and with my luck, you’ve have cursed me from now on about it, too.”
“You can bet on it.” She sounded ticked.
They sat there silently, staring at each other, and pain filled Laura’s eyes. “I could have lost you.”
His heart wrenched. “I’m fine.”
“This time.” She paused a beat, fisting her hand atop the table. “I-I don’t think I could take losing you, Jake. You’ve been my best friend too long.”
“You know risks go with the job.” Worry coursed through his veins and made mincemeat of his stomach. He’d never seen Laura like this. She was rattled by the adoption, Madeline’s antics, the Mustang breaking down, Timmy’s room being destroyed, and Jake’s own contamination, but the lion’s share had to stem from having her integrity questioned. Aside from Timmy, nothing could get to Laura like that. Not with her high standards. Not even losing Jake without warning.
Logically she accepted the necessity of her being questioned, but emotionally it hurt her deeply that he doubted her enough to warrant questioning. “What do you need?”
She stiffened and pulled in a shuddery breath. Anguish clouded her eyes, crippled her voice. “I need to know you’re over the shock, and you don’t doubt me about the treason.”
