Domini smiled. “So say the detective tracks these relatives down, what happens after that?”
“Then the private detective gives the family official notification of Rex’s death, of financial windfalls of said death, of which I’m going to assume none, and financial responsibilities of said death.”
“Which would be…?”
“Funeral costs. Payment of any outstanding debts. The recipient cannot have the gains without the bearing the losses, understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes. Then what?”
“Once that’s done, we see if there’s any interest in adoption from his relatives.”
Her stomach clenched. “What are the odds that will happen?”
“Slim. However, it is a possibility. You and Cam have a minimum of six months of Anton living with you as a foster kid before you can even think of applying for adoption. And it’ll take the detective at least that long to do the first stage of the legwork on a case like this. Especially if you don’t want to pay through the nose for it.”
“So we should get started right away?”
“Yes. Would you like me to get it set up?”
“Please. And one other thing.” Domini hesitated. “Can you call me with updates? And send your bills to me at the restaurant?”
“Not to your home address?”
“No.”
Ginger was quiet a minute and then she sighed. “You’re keeping Cam out of this?”
“For now. He’s already done so much and this isn’t something he needs to think about until we are actually closer to the adoption process, is it?”
“No. You are the client and I can set it up however you want, but I strongly recommend you include Cam in every step.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s your husband. Because he will be Anton’s adoptive father. Because keeping secrets is never a good thing, Domini.”
How well Domini knew that. “I appreciate the advice, Ginger. Keep me updated.”
Week Four…
Cam dragged ass. Talk about a colossally shitty day. He wanted to tear off his uniform, ditch his prosthesis, stand under a scalding shower, drink an icy cold beer and fuck his wife for an hour.
In that exact order.
He opened the door and chaos whacked him in the face.
His house—his haven—was utterly trashed. Blankets and sheets were draped across every surface. Hell, he couldn’t even see his furniture. The stereo blasted some classical crap with a billion weeping violins. Neither Domini nor Anton were in sight. His blood boiled when he noticed the small bronze statue his brother Carter had sculpted tipped on its side on the floor.
“Domini?” he shouted over the music, picking up the statue.
Her head popped up from beneath a yellow sheet. “Hey! Hang on.” She disappeared beneath the blankets. The music stopped. She reappeared holding the stereo remote. “How come you’re home so late?”
Cam clenched his teeth at her accusation. “I was busy.”
“Anyway, Anton and I were just playing—”
“Pigs in a blanket?”
“No. That’s food, not a game…” Domini frowned. “Not nice, Cam.”
I’m not feeling very nice.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m tired, I’ve had a shit day, and I just want to get out of these clothes and have some peace and quiet.”
“You’re at the wrong place for that.”
She’d meant it to be funny, but it struck a sour chord in him.
“Are you hungry? I saved a plate for you in the kitchen.”
He scowled. “How am I supposed to get to the kitchen? I can’t even get across the damn living room.” Of my own damn house, he silently tacked on. Be just his luck if he tried to ford his way through the maze only to land in a big heap on the floor. Perfect capper to his awesome day.
Domini kept her tone cool. “Anton? Playtime is over. We need to get this stuff picked up. Now.”
Due to static from the blankets, Anton’s hair stuck up every which way. “Aw, do we have to? It took forever to set up.”
“I know, sweetling. We should’ve asked Cam first before we created such a mess in his house.”
His house. That barb crossed the room, sharp as an arrow, and hit him dead center. “For Christsake, Domini, that’s not fair and you know that’s not what I meant.”
She scalded him with an “Oh really?” look and vanished beneath the blankets.
Fucking fantastic.
He exited through the front door, grumbling as he trekked to the backside of the house and scaled the rear deck steps. He paused at the sliding glass door to rub the section of skin where the sock was chafing his stump. He couldn’t wait to get the goddamn thing off. He snagged two beers from the fridge, ignoring the piles of dishes stacked everywhere and headed down the hallway, which was blessedly free of blankets. And dishes. And people.
Cam shucked his clothes, removed his leg and used his crutches to propel himself to the bathroom. He froze in the doorway.
Whoa. Looked like a Revlon factory exploded in here. Lotion, powders and creams were strewn across the countertop. Did Domini really need all that crap? And would it have killed her to put it away when she was done with it? Especially when it seemed she stashed his shaving stuff in a completely new drawer every damn time he turned around?
He ground his teeth. He was not a neat freak, not any more than any other guy who’d spent a dozen years in the army. But he hated shit piled everywhere. He’d learned the hard way not to leave wet towels, empty soda bottles and magazines scattered around after he’d tripped and fallen on his ass a few times.
A shower didn’t calm him.
He slipped on a pair of frayed sweat pant shorts and cast a look of loathing at his prosthesis. No way was he putting it back on tonight. No fucking way.
Now what? He was in a pissy mood. He wanted to be alone. The living room wasn’t an option, neither was the kitchen. With no other recourse, he flopped on the bed.
Cam reached for his beer on the nightstand. His knuckle clipped the edge of the fan attached to the headboard, nearly knocking it off. That’d be great, if he’d have to crawl underneath the bed on one goddamn knee to plug in Domini’s pacifier.
Okay, maybe it was mean to call it that, but Domini couldn’t sleep without the damn thing on. The white noise from an oscillating fan calmed her. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, except she had to have the air blowing directly on her. Which meant it blew on him. All night. He’d woken up freezing on more than one occasion.
When he’d tried to joke, “Luke. I am your father,” into the fan in his best Darth Vader imitation, Domini hadn’t laughed. Maybe their senses of humor didn’t mesh.
Maybe nothing about this situation meshed.
Cam expected adjustments. He expected changes. He thought he’d done fairly well, considering the double whammy of a taking on a wife and a young kid all at once.
Honestly, his relationship with Domini wasn’t causing friction. When they were locked in their bedroom, locked body to body, everything was perfect.
But that’s not realistic. Your lives can’t revolve around the few hours you spend in bed.
Yeah? Her life shouldn’t revolve around Anton, either.
Talk about a stalemate.
He finished the first beer. Maybe he should’ve crashed in Anton’s room. At least he could’ve watched TV. That was just another thing he and Domini disagreed on. Cam didn’t think the kid needed a damn TV in his room. Domini claimed Anton needed his own space, his own things, and not a bunch more drastic changes in his life right away.
So Cam had given in. Sucked up his resentment. How did people do this parenting shit without going bonkers?
Most parents started out with a baby, not a surly seven-year-old. Maybe things would be different when he and Domini started having kids of their own. Right. If she stuck around that long. She’d already been making contingency plans to adopt Anton on her own and that sucke
d ass.
Just by happenstance, Cam discovered Domini had hired Ginger to start Anton’s preliminary adoption process paperwork. He’d been waiting in her office and noticed the bill on Domini’s desk. He hadn’t brought it up with her because he hadn’t known what to say. And part of him wanted Domini to explain, of her own volition, not because he forced the issue. Might be a long damn wait.
Cam sighed and closed his eyes. Allowing himself to drift off. Just for a minute.
The sound of approaching helicopters echoed in the distance. Extraction was here. His two young charges, still green as far as live fire ops went, popped up out of their hiding places. He motioned for them to stay put. But the lead guy misread the hand signal and started across the open field. Keeping low, like he’d been trained, yet Cam was horrified. The kid wasn’t supposed to cross an open field. Ever. Too much shit could go wrong.
Frantically, he made the “stay” signal again. Which the rear guy also misread and he followed his buddy through the exposed field.
Cam wanted to shout and drag those dumb little fuckers out of danger by their ears. But he could only watch helplessly, concealed in his own hiding place, sweating pure fear, praying they got lucky and cleared the field without incident.
The landmine shook the ground and took out the first guy. The second guy ran pell-mell through the smoke and dust, screeching for his partner and setting off another landmine.
The words, your fault, it was all your fault, screaming in his head.
Wait. The screaming sound was outside his head too.
He looked to the sky as the whistling noise of a surface to air missile hit the helicopter. The explosion distorted reality, creating a ball of orange fire that knocked Cam flat on his ass. Parts rained down on him like metal raindrops. But when he saw the broken helicopter blade flipping end over end toward him like a deadly boomerang, he broke his silence and screamed.
And kept screaming.
“Cam?”
He jackknifed, not knowing where he was. He attempted to roll away and run from danger.
“Cam!” Hands slapped his cheeks. Legs pinned him down. “Wake up.”
He blinked in the near darkness until the face belonging to the voice swam into view.
Domini.
“Domini? What are you doing in…” Shit. He wasn’t in Afghanistan. The force of the old nightmare hit him anew and the shakes started. Sickness roiled in his belly. “Oh fuck.”
“Ssh. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“I can’t—”
“I know. Lay back.”
“I—don’t, no—”
“Ssh. I’m here.” Domini cupped his face in her hands. “Look at me. Let me help you.”
“Okay,” he whispered. “Don’t go.”
“I’m right here, Cam. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’m right here.”
She turned him on his side and covered him with the quilt after pressing her body tightly to his. Domini settled her right palm on his chest directly over his heart. She placed her left arm behind his head on the pillow and tenderly stroked his clammy forehead with her cool fingers. She murmured in his ear. He couldn’t tell if her words were Ukrainian or English.
It didn’t matter. Cam closed his eyes and focused on her voice. It soothed him. Her gentle touches, her sporadic sweet kisses, her presence was a healing balm to his soul.
Domini nuzzled the back of his neck and stayed with him through every second of his meltdown.
He seemed to regain some semblance of control faster this time than the first night they’d spent together. Might make him a needy bastard…but he just didn’t want her to let go.
And she didn’t. Domini didn’t ask questions or babble to fill the empty air. Without doubt, if he did decide to spill his guts, she wouldn’t judge him. She accepted him and he felt safe with her. At peace.
Goddamn. He loved her so fucking much.
She deserved better than the shitty way he’d treated her when he’d first walked in the door. He rolled to his back and she was still touching him. Still offering him solace. Still acting like she cared. Like she loved him.
Cam swept her hair behind her ear. His voice was thick with emotion. “You’re beautiful. I’m the luckiest goddamn guy in the world to get to come home to you every night. Thank you for staying with me through that.”
“You’re welcome. You better?”
“Much, thanks to you.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled softly and sweetly stroked his scarred face.
“I’m sorry I was such an ass earlier.”
“You were an ass.”
He sighed. “I’ll work harder on bein’ less of an ass, okay?”
“I appreciate the apology and I forgive you. So, I’ll put the liver and onions I had planned for dinner tomorrow night on hold.”
He smiled.
Before he drifted off, he murmured, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Rest, Deputy. I’ve got your back.”
When Domini reached up and switched on the fan, he didn’t mind a bit.
Chapter Twenty
Week Six…
Exhausted. Domini was just plain exhausted.
The fatigue wasn’t from her randy husband keeping her up until the wee hours proving his sexual mastery. No, his big body hadn’t been in bed next to her for the last three weeks.
Since Cam had started his month long assignment to third shift—ten pm to six am—she wasn’t sleeping well. Add in the upheaval at Dewey’s after firing Bobby and she’d been working eleven-hour shifts. Naturally, none of her days off coincided with Cam’s days off. It drove her crazy to think she’d seen more of Cam before they’d married.
Cam was equally frustrated at their lack of time together. He suggested she quit working at Dewey’s, even going so far as to hint he earned enough money to support them and her job wasn’t necessary.
Not necessary? Keeping her job was essential, not only for financial reasons, but her own sanity. She was good at her job. Not all women had the burning desire to stay home, bake muffins, iron clothes and pop out kids.
Like the last one was even an option.
She’d pointed out they hadn’t discussed the issues before their hurry-up wedding, so it shouldn’t have shocked him they held different perspectives. Add Anton into the mix and it was turning out to be a very messy soup.
Anton’s surly behavior had mellowed, but whenever his new reality hit him, he’d become inconsolable. Domini feared she was doing a lousy job mothering Anton, but she couldn’t share her concerns about her lack of parenting skills with Cam. Cam had even less skills than she and it didn’t seem to bother him.
Granted, the six-month waiting period to start formal adoption was good in that Cam and Anton needed time to establish some kind of relationship—because right now, they had no relationship. What if it didn’t get better? Would she have to choose between Cam and Anton?
It’d been a rocky start all around.
She mixed the taco seasoning with the ground beef and layered it over the noodles. After sprinkling the casserole with cheese, she slid it in the oven and set the timer.
Her arms were elbow deep in dishwater and she was lost in thought when a muscular body pressed against her, the thick forearms braced on either side of the sink.
“Mmm, I like you like this. Confined. You can’t really move without splashing yourself. So I can do this—” Cam rubbed his lips on the back of her head, “—and this—” he nosed aside her hair to flick his tongue across her nape, “—and especially this—” he dragged openmouthed kisses up her neck.
Goose flesh broke out.
Cam continued his sensual assault with his heated breath, clever mouth and questing tongue. She closed her eyes, absorbing every sensation, craving this side of her dominant husband.
“My wife, my Domini,” he murmured, “I want to fuck you. Just like this. No time for you to think, no time for you to move. I’d drop your pants and drive into you hard.”<
br />
She moaned.
“Since you like it fast, I’d go slow. So.” Kiss. “Very.” Another kiss. “Very.” Another kiss. “Slow.”
“No. Please—”
“But I’d let you choose which side of your neck I sink my teeth into. This area makes you squeak,” Cam fastened his mouth to the left dip between her neck and collarbone and sucked.
Domini did squeak.
“But attention on this side elicits a throaty purr that makes my cock hard as steel.” Cam scraped his teeth up the right side of her nape. “My fingers would stroke that sweet little clit. I’d fist the other hand in your hair so I can angle your neck however I please.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and lightly tugged. “And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
“Cam. Please.”
“Am I turning you on? Telling you how I plan on taking what’s mine?”
“Yes.” She needed him. Needed to feel that rush of pleasure only he could give her.
He growled. His grip increased on her hair. His right hand slid around her hip and stroked between her legs. Then he spread his big hand on her abdomen as he ground his erection into her ass. “Right. Fucking. Now.”
“Cam—”
“Huh-uh. I make the rules, you follow them.”
“We can’t—”
“Don’t force me to get rough, Domini.”
Oh how she’d love that. In private. “Stop.”
“You don’t want me to stop.”
True. Domini spoke firmly through the lust tightening her throat. “Please. Cam, no. Don’t. I’m—”
“Leave her alone!” Fast footsteps smacked behind them.
She felt Cam’s entire body stiffen as he was shoved hard into her. The sounds of slapping flesh followed.
“Don’t you hurt her!” Whack whack whack. “Don’t you touch her!”
“Whoa. Hang on—”
“No!” Anton shrieked. His fists connected with the side of Domini’s torso as he pummeled Cam.
“That’s enough!” Cam backed up.
“No!”
Domini spun around.
Cam tried to deflect Anton’s blows, but Anton was undeterred as he kept hitting him. Face cherry red, fury darkening his eyes.
Shoulda Been A Cowboy: Rough Riders, Book 7 Page 23
