by D. D. Ayres
“You’re a good man, Agent Lucca.”
He shook his head and took her hand and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I’m an ass. An idiot. You deserve better but you’re stuck with me.”
She gazed up at him, seeing weariness and worry in every line of his face. “If I’m so wonderful, why do you look so awful?”
Laughter sputtered out of Scott, the first carefree laughter he could remember for a long time. And then he took her face very carefully in his hands and kissed her even more gently.
She looked at him through wet eyes. “You really don’t mind?” She made a gesture toward her face and torso.
He reached out and ran his hand over the contours of her body until he could cup a breast beneath her hospital gown. “You’ll have proof to go with the story you tell our kids of what a badass their mama is.”
Her eyes got bigger than he’d ever seen them. “Our kids?”
Scott smiled but sat down in the chair he’d not slept in as he sat by her side. He’d said enough. Probably too much. And he had nothing left, for now.
The Nikki he’d met was long gone. Yardley had been right about that. This woman, Cole, was stronger, more assured. And the miracle of it was, she was still with him.
She reached for his hand, confirming that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“It’s a jurisdiction fight. The feds want X, formerly known as Agent Alphonso Harney of the LAPD, brought up on charges for having divulged information about an ongoing investigation. Your department is protesting that they have first dibs because he assaulted a police officer in their jurisdiction. Then there are the state police in Virginia, New Jersey, and Maryland who want their pound of flesh for violations, too. Meanwhile, X violated his parole in so many ways that he’s back finishing his time while he awaits two or more trials on these new charges.”
Scott looked over at Cole, who sat with her legs tucked up under her on her sofa. Hugo sat on the sofa beside her, providing her with a very unnecessary woolly blanket on this Labor Day weekend. He was reporting information to her on the disposition of X’s case that he’d brought back from D.C. this afternoon.
“He’d been a cop.” She shook her head. “I still don’t get it. How could he switch sides like that?”
Scott was silent for a moment. “He was in Special Operations when he went undercover to infiltrate a gang. The usual scenario is you step over the line so many times you stop seeing it, and start resenting anyone who points that out. In Harney’s case, he killed a man while undercover. Tried to make it look like a clean hit. But there were too many rumors of revenge. The department did what most do. They covered it up. No one talked. He was retired. So he came East, where he wasn’t known, and exchanged the blue code for gang code where he was already accepted.”
Cole sighed, stroking Hugo absently. In their concern for each other, they were hardly ever more than arm’s reach away.
Hugo was fine. Except for the shaved place on his belly where stitches went in, no one would ever have known anything was wrong. Scott had proof of that every day when he took him out for exercise.
Cole was getting better, too. During the past ten days her face had healed nicely. The nose was not broken. And the discoloration had subsided enough for makeup to perform miracles. She was on medical leave, however, for a few more weeks. Her department agreed. She’d been through a lot and needed to recoup and reassess.
But Cole was bored beyond belief by the restrictions placed on her. Scott had been sitting on her like an egg that needed to be hatched. He worked most days by computer from her home. When he did go into D.C., like this morning, he was back like a boomerang before dark.
Worst of all, he’d become a monk.
Cole fidgeted with the remains of a sandwich he’d brought her for dinner. All those weeks they’d lived together undercover, there’d always been this red-hot current running between them, even when, no, especially when they were resisting touching each other. She had only to enter a room to feel his eyes on her with a hunger that kept her humming with awareness.
Now. Since X was taken down. Nothing.
Cole stole a glance at him. He looked at ease, slouched down in that chair with Izzy sleeping with her head propped on one of his shoes. But she knew better. He had that edgy vibe going on. His dimples were nowhere to be seen. He was a cop on guard duty, even though she no longer needed surveillance.
Guilt. He felt guilty. And unworthy. And, so like a man, he was doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do, to punish himself. Hence Agent Celibate, while he looked after her.
Cole tried not to, but it was getting really hard not to resent the loss of the badass man she’d fallen in love with, twice.
A nursemaid she hadn’t needed after day two. Housemate, she didn’t have any use for, either. Except it was nice he exercised Hugo in ways her stitches hadn’t allowed.
What she needed was a lover, and a friend. And she had just formed an idea of how to get what she wanted.
She slanted a glance at Scott. “About your parents’ barbecue and open house this weekend.”
Scott grunted. “I told them not to expect us.”
“I’d like to go.”
He glanced at her with sudden wariness. “Why?”
“I want to see the house renovation. Will you take me?”
He groaned so low Hugo lifted his head in curiosity. “Sure.”
* * *
They arrived early enough to help with the preparations. While delighted to see her again—Scott’s father went so far as to kiss her cheek—Scott and his father shook hands like prize fighters and then retreated to their corners: Scott to watch a ballgame while his father begged off to finish working on his office files.
“The house is gorgeous.” Cole reached for a head of lettuce. She’d offered to make a green salad. “And finished so quickly.”
“Yes, it’s very nice to have a fresh coat of paint everywhere. Of course there are things lost that can’t be replaced.” She paused and, very much like her son, shook her head to toss off the emotion that threatened her. “We are blessed to be alive and whole.”
She perked up. “Scott’s father is doing remarkably well. His doctor said it was a wakeup call. Now my husband lets me feed him more vegetables and we’ve taken all red meat off the menu.”
“I’m glad. We were so worried.”
She glanced at Cole. “I’m not prying but I have to ask, how are you and Scott doing?”
Cole smiled. “We’re well. We have some things to work out. It’s a cliché. We were young and both made mistakes. This time we know what the potholes look like.”
She reached out and squeezed Cole’s arm. “I’m so very happy to hear that. I knew the very first time I saw you together that you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. He just glowed around you.”
“Thank you for telling me that.” Cole put her rinsed lettuce in a colander to drain. “May I ask you a sensitive question?”
“About what, dear?”
“Gabe. We met once but I know almost nothing about him.”
Again, Cathy Lucca’s eyes lost their brilliance but she nodded. “What would you like to know?
Cole dried her hands and turned toward Scott’s mom. “Tell me about him. What was he like?”
Cathy continued peeling potatoes for boiling. “He was a beautiful child. Smart and curious about the world. There was a fire in his eyes practically from the day he was born. He loved adventure. ‘No’ was a dare to him. Scared me to pieces.”
She smiled at some memory. “He crawled out over the top of his crib before he could walk and never stopped moving. He was strong, so much energy. By three years old he’d tackle older boys on the playground just for an excuse to wrestle. He was physically fearless.” Mrs. Lucca shook her head again as more memories spooled out behind her thoughts. “I told his father we’d need to channel that lust for a thrill, or he’d get into trouble we couldn’t handle.”
“Scott never
mentioned Gabe being in trouble.”
Cathy set her paring knife down to give Cole her full attention. “That’s because we shielded Scott from most of his older brother’s antics. Scott thought the sun rose and set on Gabe. And Gabe loved Scott, and his adoration. Scott was probably the only person Gabe never tested growing up. But Gabe was driven, loved the thrill of testing his limits. When he couldn’t find a challenge, he went looking for it. Finally, we couldn’t keep him from getting into trouble.”
Cole licked her lips, wondering if she was pushing too hard, but she had to know, for Scott’s sake. “What kind of trouble?
Cathy looked away from Cole and returned to peeling. “There were a few minor things at first, stealing a beer from the fridge, smoking with some friends in the boys’ restroom at school. Most of it was typical kid stuff but the summer he was fifteen he was arrested for boosting a car.”
“He stole a car?” Cole couldn’t control her surprise.
She sighed. “Gabe said he didn’t know the car was stolen. That he just went joyriding with friends. The police let them go with a warning to the parents. But, a few days later, two of Gabe’s so-called friends robbed the house of the man whose car had been stolen. It seems they had found the owner’s house keys in the glove compartment when they stole the car. The police came and arrested all the boys involved in the car theft with breaking and entering and burglary, as well as grand theft auto.”
“Why didn’t I know any of this?”
Both women looked up guiltily to find Scott standing in the doorway to the family room.
His mother’s cheeks pinked. “Scott, how long have you been standing there?”
He leaned a shoulder against the jamb. “Keep talking, Mom.”
She straightened up, putting on her family-court judge face. “You should understand your father and I were trying to protect Gabe, and you. You were just ten years old.”
Scott was silent.
Cole looked from mother to son, wanting to break the stalemate. “What happened. Gabe didn’t go to jail?”
“No.” John Lucca had appeared in the doorway opposite, coming in from the living room side of the kitchen. “Let me tell him, Cathy.” He looked at Scott. “The D.A. was one of those hotshots, trying to make a name for himself by being hard on crime. He wanted to try the boys as adults. But your mother had clout because of her position on the court bench. Gabe’s lawyer worked a deal for Gabe by promising the judge that if she gave him probation, we’d send him to a military academy for his four years of high school.”
Cathy Lucca nodded. “It broke my heart to send Gabe away. But we were afraid for him. So we made the sacrifice to send him away.”
John came over to put his arm around his wife’s shoulders but he spoke to Scott. “Your mother and I were trying to preserve Gabe’s future, give him something to aim for.”
Scott’s face was stiff with emotions held in check as he looked at his father. “You should have told me. Gabe should have told me.”
“I think he was ashamed. He didn’t want to spoil your view of him as big brother.”
Scott snorted. “So, instead, you rode me so hard. Made me believe I was less than because I wasn’t like Gabe.”
“I hoped to hell you wouldn’t be like Gabe.” His father’s voice carried in the kitchen. “Son, I watched you day after day growing up, trying to be like your brother. Coming home bloodied after some school-yard fight where you’d tried some moves Gabe had taught you, so sad you couldn’t even cry. It scared your mother and me to see you trying to imitate him. Gabe seemed to have been born with nine lives. Not like the rest of us. You were—”
“Weak?” Scott’s expression was one of challenge.
His father sighed. “No, normal. Maybe we were too harsh. We didn’t mean it like that. We just wanted different things for you.”
“I’m different.”
A corner of his father’s mouth lifted. “And I’m grateful.” He hugged his wife closer. “Gabe was great at a lot of things. He found his destiny in a love of country and duty. That became his reason for living. It served him better than we could ever have hoped.
“But we were always afraid he would go too far. I could see it in his eyes. He’d risk too much. Do more than anyone could reasonably expect. Eventually something got the best of him.”
For several moments the only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the clock on the wall as the sadness of the loss of a much-loved son and brother moved like a living thing among them.
Finally Cole moved to stand beside Scott but she didn’t touch him. “I know I’m not part of this family. But, Mr. Lucca, you talk only about Gabe. What did you want for Scott?”
Her question seemed to surprise him. “Scott knows.”
Scott gave his head a quick tight shake as grief and anger seemed to war within him. “I don’t know. You never bothered to tell me.”
The two men looked at each other across the width of a kitchen and a lifetime of misunderstanding. Cole held her breath, realizing she might just have asked the question that would tear them apart forever.
John seemed to tremble and then he spoke. “I wanted you to be the son I could do normal things with. Fish, talk sports and politics.” He paused to draw in a long breath, as if every word was costing him. “We wanted you to marry, be a family man. One who’d give us grandchildren.” His gaze flicked toward Cole but didn’t stay. “I wanted you to be the kind of man who shoulders responsibility and doesn’t walk away when the demands get rough.”
Scott stared at his father a long time. “You could have just told me.”
“We did.” His mother came up to him and put her hand on Scott’s cheek. “Over and over, we told you, you’re not your brother. You needed to live your own life. Find your own way.”
Scott glanced over her head at his father. “I thought that was your way of telling me I wasn’t good enough. That I could never match up to Gabe so I should stop embarrassing myself, and you, with my failures.”
John’s mouth twisted, as if in pain. “Maybe I did a crappy job. Your mother says I preach instead of teach.” He lifted his head and squared his shoulders, as if daring anyone to contradict him. “I could have done better. I see how you avoid us these days. You’ve moved on in your life, without us. But I did what I thought was right at the time.”
Something flickered in Scott’s face. “And now?”
His father scowled at him. “Fine. Have your pound of flesh. I was wrong.”
“An apology?” A corner of Scott’s mouth sketched up as he reached to check his pulse. “No, still ticking. Thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
His father’s scowl deepened but his eyes brightened. “Don’t get cocky with me, son.”
And then he and Scott were moving toward each other.
Cole’s heart contracted with emotion as she turned quickly and walked away, leaving the Luccas with their privacy.
Maybe she had made things better. At least the truth was out, and it was a truth Scott had needed to know for more than half his life.
* * *
Two hours later, wandering past picnic tables filled with enough food for three times the twenty guests at the barbecue, Cole thought she found the answer.
Scott and his dad were arguing, and laughing, about the best way to marinate chicken for the barbecue.
It was at this moment she realized that in all their time together she had seldom heard Scott laugh. Oh, he could be silly and found things funny. But there was most often a bit held back, even in his laughter. It was as if he thought he didn’t deserve full-on soul-shaking happiness.
Too bad. Because she was about to deliver it in daily doses from now on.
She waited until he passed her, then snagged his arm and drew him inside and up the stairs to the bedrooms on the second floor. Once there, she realized yet another surprise. She had never spent a night under this roof.
“Which room is yours?”
Scott pointed to the last door o
n the left.
Cole moved toward it, pulling him by the hand. When they were both through the entry, she shut the door and looked around.
It was a teenage boys’ room. And, amazingly, it hadn’t been touched during the vandalism. It was like a time capsule of the Lucca boys. She could almost smell the long absent locker-room dirty-sock ambiance. It was full of evidence of growing-boy stuff, from Star Wars to The Sopranos. An Independence Day poster hung beside one for Tomb Raider and another for Call of Duty. A PlayStation sat on the desk between twin beds. Cole moved over and tapped the poster of Lara Croft. “Impressive rack.”
Scott grinned at her. “I was more in lust with her hardware.”
After a perusal of a room that time forgot she wandered back to the door and punched the lock. She turned and leaned her back against it.
Scott shook his head. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you can’t get away.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because we are going to have wild monkey sex in your old bedroom right now while your parents are entertaining downstairs.”
The look on his face was comical. “Ah, Cole, that’s probably not a good—”
“That’s the point. Live on the edge. Feel fully alive.”
He smirked. “Come over here and I’ll let you feel how fully alive I’m getting.”
Cole shook her finger at him. “Not just yet. Show me what you got.”
He ducked in his chin. “Listen, Cole—”
“Take it off, Agent Lucca. Take it all off.”
A slow grin pushed those sexy dimples into his cheeks as he reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.
Cole sighed in appreciation of the view of all that smooth and ripped muscle. Abs for fingers to climb. Delts worth licking. And obliques to grip as she slid down his body. Nothing was really flat. His torso rippled and tucked and bulged just enough in all the right places. Yet he was no caricature of male beauty. He was real. Hair on his chest, a few scars that suddenly made her feel better about her new imperfection. He was not perfect, and all hers.
