5 Minutes to Marriage

by Carla Cassidy

  Chapter 5

  By ten-thirty the next morning the new alarm system had been installed and Marisa prayed that these extra precautions would prevent another terrifying break-in from ever happening again.

  After lunch and naps Marisa was on the floor in the living room playing with building blocks with the boys when Kent Goodall stopped by. She was grateful when the two men went outside on the front porch to visit.

  Facing Jack this morning had been more difficult than she’d expected after the near intimacy of the night before.

  She was grateful they hadn’t followed through on the desire that had momentarily flared out of control between them. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in the heat of a moment that wouldn’t last. That’s what she’d done before, and she’d sworn she’d never allow it to happen again.

  She was equally glad that Patrick was coming to dinner tonight. Patrick was safe. He didn’t stir a craziness inside her.

  She needed to see him. For the past week she and Jack had been living in a tiny bubble where it was just the two of them and the boys. She needed Patrick to bring the world in, to set her feet more firmly on the ground of reality.

  “Marisa, watch!” Mick said as he built a tower of blocks higher and higher. He shoved his blond hair off his forehead with the back of his hand, a gesture Marisa had seen Jack do before.

  “M’ssa, watch,” David echoed and began slamming blocks one on top of the other. David’s tower only got four high when the blocks tumbled to the floor. He laughed as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

  As always, playing with the boys brought a wave of love into her heart. She knew from those late-evening talks with Jack that most of their early life had been spent in hotel rooms with hotel staff acting as babysitters. Then, after the divorce, Candace had shoved the boys off on nannies so they wouldn’t hamper her wild lifestyle. There had been no sense of permanence and security for them from the moment they’d been born until they had come here to Jack’s ranch.

  They wouldn’t even remember her. Within months of her leaving, the boys would forget the positive influence she’d had on their lives. It was the way it was supposed to be with professional nannies.

  Still, she was surprised to realize this knowledge pained her more than a little bit. These boys had laughed and misbehaved their way right into the core of her heart like no other children had done before.

  Maybe it was because on every other job she’d had in the past there had been a mother present. This was the first time Marisa had worked with a single parent.

  The front door opened, and Jack stuck his head inside. “Kent and I are going to the barn. You and the boys want to come?”

  Both of the boys headed for the door as Marisa pulled herself up off the floor. “Guess so,” she said with a smile as the two boys barreled out the door and onto the porch.

  Jack took Mick’s hand and Marisa took David’s. Together with Kent they all began to walk across the expanse of lawn toward the barn in the distance.

  The July sun bore down on them with an oppressive heat that was searing. Marisa made a mental note to check with Jack about sunscreen for his fair little boys.

  “I can already see a big change in the kids,” Kent said to her. “They seem a little more calm than they were a week ago.”

  “That’s because Jack is a little more calm,” she replied with a teasing smile to Jack. “We still have a ways to go,” she added.

  “Still, it’s nice to see them behaving better,” Kent replied.

  They hadn’t gone far when she felt a prickly sensation in the center of her back. It was a whisper of intuition, the feeling that somebody was watching her.

  She turned her head from side to side, seeking the source of the discomfort. She spied Max Burrow standing near the stables. The tall burly man leaned on a shovel, and it appeared that he was watching them…watching her.

  The uneasiness increased as he met her gaze and didn’t look away but rather stayed focused on them as they walked. She looked at Jack, then back toward Max, surprised to see that he had disappeared.

  She mentally shook herself. Apparently the episode of the attempted break-in the night before had her more on edge than she’d thought. Surely Max hadn’t been staring at her but was just resting for a moment before getting back to work.

  Jack pushed open the barn door, and they all entered. Marisa caught her breath as she saw the wealth of memorabilia housed inside.

  Life-size posters of the Creation band lined the walls and Jack’s sparkling drum set was on a small raised platform in one corner. David released Marisa’s hand and beelined to the drums.

  “Welcome to Jack’s past,” Kent said to her. “And what a glorious past it was.”

  There were T-shirts and caps and CDs in glass frames. There was also a glassed-in room that Marisa assumed was the recording studio. “This stuff must be worth a fortune,” she exclaimed.

  “Yeah, Jack had it all after he left us poor folks behind for the big-time,” Kent replied. He clapped a hand on Jack’s back. “But we’re glad to have him back here where he belongs.”

  David hit the cymbals and laughed with glee.

  “David, I don’t think you’re supposed to touch that,” Marisa exclaimed.

  “He’s all right,” Jack replied with an easy smile. “He can’t hurt anything.”

  “Maybe he’s the next generation of drumming talent,” Kent said.

  “God, I hope not,” Jack replied fervently. “I’d much rather see the boys go to college than join a band.”

  Mick had found a set of dolls fashioned after the band members and sat on the floor with them. “No wonder the boys like to come out here,” Marisa said. “It’s like a big wonderland.” She winced as David banged on the snare drum.

  Jack smiled and then touched Kent on the arm. “Come on, I’ll get you that music you wanted.”

  As Jack and Kent went into the recording studio area, Marisa looked more closely at the posters on the walls.

  Although his hair had been much longer and there had been a wildness in his eyes that was no longer present, Jack had still been one hot hunk when he’d been in his band.

  She stopped in front of one particular photo and stared at him. He was standing at his drums, his sweaty T-shirt plastered against his broad chest and oh my…what a chest it was.

  The memory of the kiss, the caresses they’d shared jumped unbidden into her head, and her body temperature rose at least ten degrees.

  She whirled around as the two men came back out of the recording studio, Kent clutching several sheets of music in his hand.

  “Thanks,” he said to Jack. “I really appreciate it.”

  Jack shrugged. “I’m never going to do anything with it. Your band might as well use it.” He smiled at Marisa. “We’re done in here. Mick, David, come on. We’re going back to the house.”

  David banged the cymbal once again as Mick put the dolls back on the stands where they belonged. David eyed his father with more than a hint of mutiny.

  Marisa moved closer to Jack. “Give him a reason to do as you asked,” she said softly.

  “The time-out chair?” he asked below his breath.

  Marisa smiled. “Why don’t you try something positive?”

  Jack frowned, and she tried not to notice that wonderfully clean male scent of him, desperately tried to forget how his hands had felt so hot and needy on her bare skin.

  “Hey, buddy, let’s go back to the house and we’ll get out the trucks and make a road through the living room,” Jack said.

  David looked at him thoughtfully, then with a happy grin left the drums and approached Jack. Jack picked him up in his arms, and Marisa’s heart expanded. Jack was learning and proving to be quite an amazing daddy.

  “And we can make bumps in the road with pillows,” Mick said eagerly as they all headed back to the house.

  “Yeah, bumps!” David echoed.

  Kent headed for his car and waved goodbye.


  “You gave him music?” she asked Jack.

  “A couple of songs I wrote a long time ago. I wasn’t going to do anything with them, and Kent had some interest in using them with his band,” he replied.

  “That was a nice thing for you to do,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Kent’s been a good friend over the years. It’s really no big deal.”

  They entered the house, and for the next hour Jack sat on the living-room floor playing with his sons.

  He’s good with them, Marisa thought as she watched their play. He was patient and had a sense of make-believe that they responded to with glee.

  As far as Marisa was concerned there was nothing more appealing than a man who could get in touch with the boy inside of him for the sake of his small sons. It didn’t take long for the truck game to evolve into a wrestling match.

  Marisa laughed as the two boys piled on top of Jack, screaming and giggling with abandon. It was the first time she’d seen the three of them just having fun together.

  “Get M’ssa,” David yelled, his bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

  Suddenly it wasn’t just the three of them on the floor in a pile but it was her as well. Jack had her on her back and tickled her ribs as the boys squealed with delight and danced around them.

  “Stop, please,” she cried amid bursts of laughter. He stopped, and for just a minute he remained on top of her, staring down at her.

  There was no laughter in his eyes; rather there was a hot flash of fire that left her breathless in a way the tickling had not.

  Instantly he stood and held out a hand to help her up off the floor. “Thanks,” she murmured as she got to her feet. She didn’t look at him as a blush warmed her cheeks. “Okay, boys, it’s time to pick up the toys,” she said.

  “I’ll see to the cleanup,” Jack said, his voice deeper than usual. “I’m sure you’d like some time to shower and get ready for dinner.”

  Dinner with Patrick. She looked at her watch and realized dinner was less than an hour away. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  As she walked down the hallway to her bedroom, she tried to ignore the ball of heat that still burned in her stomach, a flame that had been ignited by the desire in Jack’s eyes.

  He’d confessed to her one night when the boys had been in bed that he hadn’t been with any woman since his divorce from Candace. That was a long time for a man to go without a woman.

  Surely it was nothing more than close proximity that had him looking at her as if she were his favorite dessert.

  The worst thing she could do was allow herself to get caught up in the family atmosphere, in the intimacy of this particular assignment.

  Jack was dangerous to her. She felt it in her heart, in her soul. The look in his eyes, the heat of his touch reminded her of that time in her life when she’d risked everything—and lost.

  Jack didn’t like him. It took him about fifteen minutes for him to make the judgment call that Patrick Moore was arrogant, abrasive and far too smooth.

  He especially didn’t like the way the man looked at Marisa—with a possessiveness that rankled Jack.

  “It’s a shame your band broke up,” Patrick said as he helped himself to more of Betty’s mashed potatoes. “But I guess that wild lifestyle really took a toll on you.”

  It was as if he wanted to remind Marisa that Jack was an old has-been with a questionable past. “It was time for me to move on to a new phase in my life,” Jack replied easily. “I had more important things to do than make music.” He looked pointedly at his sons, who so far had behaved admirably through the meal.

  “Yeah, but I heard the transition from rock star to family man has been pretty tough for you. Didn’t you have a stint in rehab?”

  “Patrick!” Marisa let out a short uncomfortable laugh, and then gave him a look of disapproval.

  “I’m just asking,” he said with a look of innocence.

  “It’s all right,” Jack said to Marisa, then turned his attention back to Patrick. “Actually, no. I never spent any time in rehab, and I’m too busy raising kids now to even think about drugs or alcohol.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you in any way,” Patrick said hurriedly.

  “No offense taken,” Jack replied smoothly, although he found everything about Patrick offensive. His hair was too dark, too neat. His dress shirt didn’t have a single wrinkle and he possessed a cool facade that annoyed Jack.

  Marisa deserved a man with more passion, one who had a lust for life burning inside him. She deserved somebody like Jack. He mentally shook himself at this silly thought.

  He conceded that his feelings for Patrick were colored by his growing desire for Marisa. He told himself he had no right to judge the kind of man Marisa dated.

  Marisa was his employee, and in two months’ time she’d be gone from his life. He needed to gain some distance from his lovely nanny.

  Perhaps someday there would be a woman who would fit neatly into his life, but it wasn’t going to be Marisa and it wasn’t going to happen for a long time. David and Mick were all that were important to him, and what he wanted more than anything else on this earth was for them to trust him enough to call him Daddy.

  The rest of the meal passed with pleasant, easy conversation, and when they were finished eating Jack took the boys into their bedroom to give Marisa and her boyfriend some time alone.

  At seven-thirty he gave the boys their baths and got them into their pajamas. Once they had fallen asleep he remained in the room, seated between their two beds.

  His mind raced back to the night before and what Rita Perez had told him. He’d never thought about his sons being likely candidates for kidnapping. He’d been so busy just trying to get through each day with them he hadn’t thought of the bigger ramifications of them living here with him.

  There was no question that as Harold’s grandkids, the boys would be worth a fortune to a potential kidnapper.

  Was the man who had tried to break in simply a robber looking for a quick score of cash or drugs? Why break into a house where people were not only home but were still awake?

  He frowned thoughtfully. If the intruder had watched the house for any length of time he might have known that it was habit for Marisa and Jack to stay up late talking in the living room. Perhaps he meant to use that time to get in, maybe steal whatever he could find in Jack’s room, then get out before he and Marisa headed off to bed.

  Or had he attempted to get in to somehow grab the boys? Had there been an accomplice standing outside the boys’ bedroom window, waiting for sleeping kids to be handed to him? A rush of cold air blew through Jack at the very thought.

  It was all assumption, but it was the kind of speculation that could keep a man awake at night.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there when the phone rang. He left the boys’ room and went down the hallway to his bedroom, where he grabbed the receiver next to the bed.

  “Jack, it’s Harold.”

  Jack barely stifled his groan. “Hello, Harold. What’s up?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I heard somebody tried to break into your house last night.”

  Jack stiffened. “How did you hear about that?”

  “That isn’t important. What’s important is the safety of those boys. If you can’t keep your home safe, then maybe it’s time I step in.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Jack exclaimed, his blood rushing to his brain in a burst of anger. “I’ve got it covered. In fact, I had a state-of-the-art security system installed this morning. I have it all under control, Harold. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “You’re on notice, Jack. Keep in mind that it’s very possible you have no real legal claim to the boys. If I hear any more news about potential threats to them, then I’ll have them yanked out of your custody so fast your head will spin. And you know I have the power to do that.”

  “I’m well aware of what you’re capable of,” Jack replied dryly. “Like I said, everyt
hing is under control here. There’s no reason for you to worry.”

  Jack slammed down the receiver, his stomach burning with frustrated rage. He hated the fact that Harold had managed to remind him that one or both of the boys might not be his.

  “It’s very possible you have no real legal claim to those boys.” Harold’s words whirled in Jack’s head, making him feel ill. He’d like to think that Harold wouldn’t go there to get the boys, that he would be reluctant to paint Candace as a woman who didn’t know who the father of her children had been.

  But he knew that Harold was ruthless enough to do such a thing to get what he wanted. Candace’s reputation wasn’t exactly stellar to begin with, and if Harold decided he wanted custody of the boys then he’d do whatever necessary to get it.

  He leaned his head back and listened to the sound of the boys’ breathing. He felt like he’d already missed so many moments of their lives. He couldn’t imagine them being ripped away from him now.

  Who was feeding Harold this information? Did he have somebody watching the house? Or was somebody in his house sharing private info with the man?

  He left the bedroom, and as he walked back into the living room Marisa came in the front door, apparently having walked Patrick out to his car to tell him goodbye.

  “Thank you for this evening,” she said and then frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Harold just called. He’d heard about the attempted break-in last night.”

  She sucked in a breath. “How?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” He motioned her to follow him into the kitchen, where he noticed she’d cleaned up all remnants of the evening meal.

  They sat at the table, and he stared at her, his mind whirling at a frantic pace. “Somebody is feeding Harold information. When he heard about the dinner date gone bad I just assumed Heidi had somehow made contact with him. But this puts a whole new spin on things.”

  “Rita didn’t know about your dinner date, and in any case she would never betray my trust,” Marisa said quickly.