“Damn, Bethie.” He grabbed her hand, much as Tony had, and bent until his forehead rested on hers. “You keep scaring the shit out of me.”
She struggled for a smile. “I keep scaring me.”
“Navarro said the guy’s behind bars.”
“The last time I saw him, he was lying on his stomach with his hands cuffed behind his back. Did Tony tell you who it was?”
“Reistad.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable. He got away with it all these years. If he’d just sat tight...”
“I told him that tonight. I guess he’s been watching stuff like NCIS on TV because he was afraid that new investigative techniques might find something.”
“What, you stood around chatting?”
She made a face at him. “We exchanged a few words in between him trying to stab me.”
“Jesus.”
Beth hoisted her cast a few inches in the air. “This saved me. It made a good shield. Without it—” She shuddered.
“Tony said when he got there, you were beating the shit out of Reistad. With some kind of wood statue?”
Ashley had been with her when she found it at an antique store, of all places. Beth reminded him, and he said, “Oh, yeah. I remember that. Damn, Beth. That was smart.”
“I wouldn’t have had a chance to get to it if Tony hadn’t charged in so that Reistad tried to escape out the front door. If Tony hadn’t come—”
Matt’s hand shook a little as he smoothed her hair back from her face. “But he did.”
She bobbed her head and fought the urge to burst into tears.
“Bethie!” Another voice.
Her father rushed into her cubicle. “You’re all right?”
Surprised, she looked at Matt, who shrugged. “I thought Dad needed to know.”
“I can’t believe this.” Her father’s eyes were damp. “That monster attacked you.”
“Emily, too.” She let go of her brother’s hand and reached for Dad’s instead. “She’s conscious.”
“Your detective called after Matt did and told me that. Both my daughters. And it’s my fault.” He blinked hard.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.” The guilt virus was really going around.
Matt said, “Knock it off, Dad. Your marriage imploded. That doesn’t make this nutjob your fault. Who could predict anything like this?”
Her chest felt odd, as if her heart was being constricted. Beth smiled at Matt. He shifted uncomfortably and muttered, “It’s true.”
She was pretty sure the byplay went right by their father, as usual, but he fussed over her for a few minutes before Tony reappeared at the door. There was definitely not room for three large men in this cubicle.
Seeming to have developed an unexpectedly sensitive side, Matt said, “We should go see what’s up with Em,” then escorted Dad out. He and Tony did exchange a stare, although she couldn’t see Matt’s expression. To her amazement, Matt and Dad seemed to be talking as they walked away.
Tony came to her bedside. “What was that about?”
She shook her head and said, “You asked for another chance.” Her heart was getting a workout tonight, her pulse racing again. Was she really thinking about taking another risk?
Yes.
“I wouldn’t have called it asking,” he said gruffly. “Begged is more like it.”
“I guess—” this was really awkward, so awkward she looked away from him “—what I need to know is what you were asking for.”
The silence went on so long, she sneaked a peek. The lines carved in his face had deepened. “You mean, did I think we were good together in bed and wanted to keep that going for a while, or am I open to the possibility of marriage and kids?”
“It’s not like I expect a proposal or anything like that.” She made herself meet his eyes and tried really hard not to sound apologetic. “But I don’t want to waste my time if there’s no hope of a future. And you’ve sounded like...”
“Beth.” He sat on the side of the bed again, where he could take her hand and look at her with those dark chocolate eyes. “I’m not that big a jerk. You made it clear what you need. Thanks to you, I’ve had to do a lot of thinking.”
“Was it a strain?” she asked politely.
His grin warmed her, head to toe. “Actually, it was. I got somewhere, though. I figured out that my role model was the cop I told you about, the one who saved my ass. It went further than me becoming a cop like him.”
She clung to his hand watched his face.
“I saw him as free. Nobody weighing him down. That impression...solidified, even though I should have known better once I was older. I called him yesterday, and while we were talking he told me I was a fool if I wished for less family. His wife died of cancer before they could have kids. I don’t know if I said that.” At her nod, Tony kept talking. “He admitted he’s never met anyone who could take her place. For the first time, I let myself hear how lonely he is. I felt like an idiot.”
“That’s sad,” she murmured.
“Yeah, it is.” His mouth twisted. “I also realized I’ve let myself revert to old habits since I came home after Dad died. I sat my mother down and had a talk. I think she understood.”
“Really?” Beth said in surprise.
He laughed. “She’ll forget, but I laid down some rules, and I’ll stick to them.”
“I’ve made some resolutions of my own,” Beth confessed. “Long past due.”
Tony tipped his head. “Ditto.” He hesitated. “This is a roundabout way of telling you I’ve been seriously falling for you. I’ve never come close to feeling the same about any other woman. When you kicked me out, I felt like you’d—God, I don’t know—torn a hole into me. Chopped off an arm or a leg or something.”
Yes. She’d felt the same.
“I know where I want us to go.” Anxiety mixed with tenderness in his gaze. “We can take it slow—you need time—but I’m hoping you’ll feel good enough to come to Sunday dinner at my sister Maria’s house.”
She blinked. “This Sunday?”
“We could put it off to the next Sunday,” he said hurriedly. “Or...longer than that, if you’re not ready. I don’t mean to get pushy.”
Beth laughed in relief and joy and a whole lot else, not caring that her wound twanged a protest. “Pushy is your middle name.”
Shoulders she hadn’t known were tense relaxed as he smiled at her. “Maybe.” This smile dimmed. “I can work on it.”
“No. Pushy is another word for strong.” Past a lump in her throat, she said, “I can hardly imagine what it would be like to sometimes be able to lean on someone else.” No, not true—she’d already learned what it felt like.
He momentarily looked away. “Mamá said something that surprised me. I asked why she always called me instead of one of the others, and she said it was because everyone in the family trusts me. Not everyone does what they promise, but I do.”
He sounded bemused, as if he hadn’t known how trustworthy he was. It made her eyes sting again. “You do. I want that. I want you.”
Tony planted a hand on the pillow beside her head and bent to kiss her softly on the forehead, then on the tip of one cheekbone, the bridge of her nose. “God, Beth,” he muttered, just before he reached her mouth. “I’ve been...” He didn’t say what he’d been. He kissed her instead, his mouth gentle but his hunger for her close to the surface.
Beth closed her eyes and let herself drink in every sensation. She laid her hand on his jaw, savoring the roughness and hard bone. Then she slipped her arm around his neck and held on tight as the kiss deepened, as she, at least, forgot where they were.
He was the one to pull back, although dark color in his cheeks and a gleam in his eyes suggested he hadn’t been far from losing it.
“If you’ll put up with my family,” he said huskily,
“I’ll put up with yours.”
Beth managed a shaky smile. “Deal.”
“Your brother is actually growing on me.”
Something like a giggle escaped her. “Me, too.”
He was suddenly serious. “Your place is a crime scene, you know.”
The idea of yellow tape wrapping her doors made her queasy.
“Will you come home with me?” he asked.
She swallowed and nodded. “I want to see Emily first, though.”
“Thank you,” he said, voice low, “for letting me try again.”
“I let myself get scared.” Looking past him, she smiled again. “Just so you know, here’s your chance to put up with my family some more.”
He grimaced. “You’ll have plenty of chances to put up with mine.”
“Starting Sunday.”
His eyebrows quirked, but then Matt and her father crowded into the cubicle. It all hit her at once. The two of them so relaxed together. Dad rushing to her side. Emily being okay. Tony open to a future with her.
Connected to him by firm grip on her hand, Beth soaked in an astonishing state of happiness. She could get used to this.
* * * * *
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HER AMISH PROTECTORS
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The Navy SEAL’s Rescue
by Jo Leigh
Chapter One
“MS. SHAW, YOUR weekly delivery is here. Should I send Arnold to your office?”
At the sound of Felicity’s voice coming from the intercom Jessica looked up from her laptop. Ignoring her assistant’s blatant attempt to get a rise out of her, she said, “I believe you still have tip money in the envelope I left with you.”
“I do. So would you prefer he leave the flowers with me?”
Jessica sighed. “Please.” A headache threatened from reading briefs most of the day and she wasn’t in the mood for her assistant’s teasing. Not just that, but encouraging Arnold in any way wasn’t a good idea. Ever since he’d become Jessica’s regular deliveryman, he’d had a crush on her. If you could call it that—the guy had to be in his late twenties. It hadn’t turned into anything...it wasn’t as if he was stalking her. But six months of trying to engage with her was too long.
A few minutes later she heard a light knock at her door.
“Come in, Felicity.” Jessica stood and moved last week’s flowers off the corner of her desk.
The door opened and the young woman entered, holding a glass vase filled with cheery yellow daffodils and pale green chrysanthemums. Huh. Interesting choice for the middle of June in Chicago. It did the trick, though, and boosted Jessica’s spirits.
“Sorry about earlier,” Felicity said, setting down the bouquet. “I shouldn’t have been joking around today of all days.”
“Why? Because I had only four hours sleep last night and I’m cross-eyed from reading briefs? Or did something happen that I don’t know about?”
“No.” Felicity smoothed her blue skirt. It was unusual to see her without a blazer. She tended to mimic Jessica in her manner of dress and hairstyles: conservative suits, hair pulled back in a neat twist or upswept. The staff often referred to her as mini-Jessica, only Felicity was a blonde and Jessica had dark hair. “It’s been raining steadily since this morning. You’re usually in a funk on gloomy days.”
“Am I?”
“Maybe subdued is a better description.” Felicity shrugged. “I’ve always assumed it made you a little homesick.”
Jessica supposed that was partly true, although the weather in Rhode Island could get cold and nasty in the winter. Still, the pleasure of growing up with sand between her toes, the sun’s warmth on her skin and the tangy smell of salt in the air wasn’t something one could easily forget.
And her dad of course... Ronny still lived in the old beach shack they’d shared for ten months out of each year until she’d left for college. As long as the surf was up he was out there on his board, along with his groupies who worshipped him. To pay the bills he gave surfing lessons to tourists or took groups out on fishing charters. But only when he absolutely had to. He was a true free spirit, her dad. For him, there was no place on earth that could top Temptation Bay. Some days she tended to agree with him.
The moment she sat down, her gaze caught on the wastebasket under her desk, where just this morning she’d dropped the invitation to her fifteen-year high school reunion. She regretted making the decision not to attend the event. She’d vacillated for over a month about whether or not to go. Most of the girls she’d hung out with at Roger Williams Prep had gone off to college, then moved on just as she had, and she would’ve loved to see them. Catch up on what everyone was doing with their lives. But in the end her workload had made the decision for her.
Her career ran her life. Not that she was complaining. Being recruited by a prestigious firm like Burrell, Scoffield and Schultz right out of law school had been crazy lucky as well as a personal victory.
“So...” Felicity nodded at the flowers Jessica had moved to the credenza. “Are you going to take those home? They still look fresh and pretty.”
Jessica laughed. How many times had they done this dance? “Take them,” she said.
“Excellent.” Felicity scooped up the vase quickly. “By the way, still no card.”
Jessica already knew that, and the tiny amused satisfaction she got out of keeping the secret that she sent the flowers to herself wasn’t a big deal. In fact, the truth was so much more mundane—she loved getting flowers so it was a treat she indulged in. When the office staff assumed she had an admirer, she’d let them.
Felicity shook her head on the way to the door. “You’d think just knowing you have a secret admirer would be enough to discourage poor Arnold.”
“Hey, about that...” Jessica picked up her mug, then remembered she’d thought about getting a refill an hour ago. “Don’t tease him anymore.” She held up a hand at the first sign of protest. “I know you don’t do it openly, but I don’t want this thing with him escalating.”
Felicity nodded thoughtfully. “May I get you some coffee? I can make a fresh pot.”
“Thanks, but I need to
move.” She arched her back and glanced at the time. “Oh, great, I missed lunch.”
“I have some yogurt in the fridge.”
“No thanks.” Stretching her neck from side to side, Jessica followed her assistant out of the office and headed for the break room. She hadn’t actually felt hungry until she realized she hadn’t eaten. If she could manage to leave at a decent hour—anytime before seven would do—she’d pick up dinner from Max’s Take Out.
The whole floor seemed quieter than usual. Which was saying a lot. At least now she’d acclimated to the atmosphere at the firm. Being one of the top fifty law practices in the country, the attitudes and mores of the senior partners were still nestled in the stuffy long ago. Which included not rubbing elbows with the lowly associates.
At first she’d been put off. After all, she’d graduated third in her class at Yale. She was a damn good contract lawyer. Despite her skill and commitment, moving up in the firm was a slow and opaque process. But all in all, she liked it here. Everything was very...tidy. Organized and compartmentalized.
“Hey, Jessica.”
Grant Herbert, who was a junior partner and quite a few rungs above her on the ladder, called out from his office, and while he wasn’t actually her boss, she often worked on projects for him. Grant was a friend. Sometimes a little more than that. And he had an amazing office with a window view of Lake Michigan. While it wasn’t the Atlantic Ocean, it made her think of home.
In fact, her gaze was drawn instantly to the glorious reds and oranges of the late afternoon sun, fighting to make it through the dark clouds coming in from the lake. She let out a breath, and felt her mood lift just looking at it.
“Someday, you’re going to come in here and look at me the way you look out that window.”
She smiled, knowing he understood that at work, it was all work, and nothing more.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“I was about to call you,” he said, leaning back in his leather chair, looking a little too handsome with his shirtsleeves rolled up on his toned arms. His dark hair could have been longer, but at least the top was at the stage where she could tell he’d been running his fingers through it. “You working late?”
Back Against the Wall Page 26
