A Baby for Agent Colton

by Jennifer Morey

  He turned his head away as the truth of that sank in. For a moment she thought she’d be disappointed, that he’d withdraw and agree.

  “What family I knew was taken from me.” When his dark, sexy eyes met hers again, warmth hugged her. He wasn’t going to give up. “Now I have a chance to make another of my own. I’ll do all I can to keep us together.”

  Oh. Jocelyn would never have dreamed he’d say something like that. She entwined her fingers with his, falling deeper and deeper into an infatuated abyss. After her dad and brother were killed, she’d gotten lost in loneliness. Only the assurance that someday she’d have a family of her own pulled her through. Now that day seemed to have arrived. If she trusted it...trusted Trevor.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  Jarred from the sweet exchange, she looked up at the waitress. Blond-haired, blue-eyed and much too young to be Regina, the woman looked at Jocelyn expectantly.

  “Water is fine for me,” she said.

  “Iced tea,” Trevor said.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  They hadn’t even looked at their menus yet.

  “Give us a minute.” Trevor slid his menu toward him, leaning back and taking his hand with him.

  Jocelyn lifted her menu, missing his hand already. Seeing a waitress across the restaurant around the right age to pass as Regina, Jocelyn watched her take the order from a woman dressed in a suit who sat next to a man, also in a suit. They appeared to be here on business, the man with a briefcase on the floor and the woman with a notepad and pen beside her plate.

  She took a long time ordering and Jocelyn saw how the waitress’s mouth tightened just before she forced a smile. Her hair was a medium chocolate color, but mousy-brown roots had begun to grow out.

  “Hey. My three o’clock,” Jocelyn said.

  Trevor followed her direction.

  “See the roots?”

  The waitress turned from the table and walked back to the kitchen, complaining to a fellow waitress, who glanced at the table and said something back with a shake of her head.

  “Too bad we weren’t seated in her section,” Jocelyn said.

  “Keep a low profile. We’ll come back.”

  They watched for the waitress to emerge from the kitchen. When she did, she carried a platter with three plates and took them to another table. She smiled genuinely at the family, who treated her nicely.

  Back into the kitchen, then she emerged with two more plates, and this time headed for the long-order woman and her business companion. Setting the first plate in front of the man, she then placed the other in front of the blonde. The blonde looked down at her plate and then up in displeasure at the waitress. She pointed to the food and said something with a scowl marring her pretty face.

  The waitress took the plate back to the kitchen.

  When she reemerged with a new plate, her face was set in stone.

  “That’s got to be her,” Jocelyn said.

  “We have to be sure. I’ll get an agent to come by and ask the manager about her.”

  “Let’s not scare her away. She’ll just get a new identity and go to work somewhere else.”

  She watched with Trevor as the blonde rudely accepted the new plate and then waved the waitress away. They ordered their own food and finished close to the same time as the business meeting wrapped up. The blonde paid.

  Jocelyn saw the waitress watch the two leave. She left a check on one of her tables and then walked to the window, watching as the blonde got into one car and the man into another. But her gaze stayed on the woman as she drove out of the parking lot.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Trevor put down some cash and stood.

  Jocelyn stood with him. When the waitress went back to the kitchen, they headed for the door. Trevor passed the blonde’s table and opened the black check holder and read the woman’s name. Jocelyn kept her eye out for the waitress. No one other than the table next to them saw what he’d done.

  Outside, he said to her, “Janice Tapp.”

  Her name started with a J.

  * * *

  Janice was the CEO of a local bank and lived in an upscale home west of town. Trevor and Jocelyn drove straight there after their dinner. On the front doorstep, Trevor rang the bell.

  He heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

  When no one answered, he said loudly. “FBI. We’d like a word with you. It’s urgent.”

  Seconds later, the blonde cracked the door open. Her brow creased with her befuddlement.

  Trevor showed her his badge. “You were just at the Buckaroo Burgers restaurant?”

  “Yes. H-how did you—”

  “We were just there.” Jocelyn showed her badge. “Surveillance on a potential suspect. Your waitress.”

  “My...” She opened the door wider. “Please. Come inside.”

  He and Jocelyn stepped onto white marble floor, the ceiling high above. From beyond a partial wall, a television played at a low volume.

  A midfifties woman in black slacks and a white long-sleeved blouse appeared from around the wall.

  “Is everything all right, Ms. Tapp?”

  “Yes.” Janice turned to her. “You can go ahead and go now. Thank you for everything.”

  The woman nodded once and with a wary eye at Trevor and Jocelyn turned and vanished from view.

  “My nanny. She takes care of my son while I work.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Which is a lot.”

  “As CEO we can well imagine.”

  She stopped smiling and bestowed Trevor a direct look. “You’re quick, Agent...”

  “Colton. We looked you up on the way over.”

  “What’s this about a waitress?”

  “We’re looking for a woman that fits your waitress’s description in connection to some serial murders,” Trevor said. “She’s been working under false identities as a waitress in local restaurants. Are you familiar with the Alphabet Killer?”

  Janice put her hand above her breasts with a gasp. “Yes. She goes after women with long dark hair and...” She put her hand up to her dark hair, which she’d clipped up into a bun. “What letter is she on?”

  “J,” Jocelyn provided.

  Janice gasped again.

  “She seems to prey on rude women she serves,” Jocelyn said.

  “Oh my Lord.” Janice covered her mouth with her hand and stepped in a stunned circle before going still facing them again. She lowered her hand. “Someone told me her fiancé ran off with another woman and she kills anyone who reminds her of the other woman.”

  “Yes. That’s our theory,” Trevor said. “That’s why we came here today. Is there somewhere you can go and stay for a while? Maybe take some time off. Leave town for a week or two.”

  “You...you really think I’m in that much danger?”

  “We’d rather not take any chances,” Trevor said. “Any woman with a name that starts with J and has long dark hair is a risk as far as we’re concerned.” He looked at Jocelyn pointedly.

  She gave a slight roll of her eyes and returned her attention to Janice. “And you may have had contact with the killer. We’d like to know you’re safe.”

  “I’ll... Yes... I’ll take some time off. Work remotely for a week or two. Sure. Right. I’ve got a vacation home in the Bahamas. I’ll go there.”

  “Good. Let us know if you notice anything in the meantime. We’ll get a tail on the waitress.” Trevor guided Jocelyn to the door, opening it and ushering her outside.

  “There you go again, being overly protective.”

  He took in her smooth gait, long, shapely legs stretching the snug skirt of the black dress, hips swaying just enough. Higher up, her breasts plumped where the bodice cupped her, firm, creamy skin tempting him. Finally moving on
to her face, he caught her raised-brow look and grinned.

  “It’s not just you who makes me protective.” It was their baby, too. “Maybe you should think about being more careful.”

  “I’m doing my job, Trevor. That hasn’t changed. I was doing my job before I got pregnant. Jeez. I liked you better when you were being professional.” Although her words leaned toward a bite, he heard flirtation, too, a sort of sultry purr. She didn’t like his protectiveness from a professional standpoint, but she did from a personal one.

  “You’re more than one of my agents now. You’re my wife.”

  The teasing light warmed in her beautiful eyes, and he felt a thrill over assessing her correctly.

  He stopped. She faced him and a long, silent moment filled the energy between them. Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

  “You’re going to make a great mom.”

  Her slow blink told him she received his comment favorably, in opposition to her choice in profession. Maybe he overgeneralized. Moms could take on any type of career and be great moms. Jocelyn’s case differed in how she’d come to her decision. It didn’t matter. She fascinated him.

  Without any thought over why he shouldn’t, he leaned in and kissed her.

  Chapter 9

  Back in the apartment above the phony real estate office, Jocelyn changed into something more comfortable. The kiss had her hands reaching for a modest but alluring nightgown. The soft, stretchy sleepshirt with boyish button-up front, collar and pocket dipped low, and stopped midthigh. Ivory trim popped from black material, a boyish style, but designed to attract. How much of what the sleepshirt might bring could she take on in the morning? Or maybe a better question: How much could Trevor take?

  She went with the warm wave the kiss still carried and put it on. No underwear. Might as well go all out.

  Checking her hair, giving it a tousle, she went out into the open space of the living, dining and kitchen area. Soft light from the lamp beside an off-white couch touched upon teal and brown accents and the antiquated high, flat, textured ceiling. Off-white cabinets and a kitchen island topped with brown granite and more teal accents blended the room. The owner had just finished renovating and hadn’t gotten to the office below when the FBI approached them to rent the space.

  Not seeing Trevor, she endured a moment of regret just before she heard him emerge from the hall. Still in jeans, he’d removed his shirt. The apartment did feel a little warm, but she wondered if he had the same thing in mind as she did. His dark eyes roamed down her nightgown as he walked to the French doors, opening them to let air inside.

  She went there, smelling the fresh air and following Trevor onto the deck. The building backed to rolling fields and cattle. A few other businesses dotted the road in front, growing busier closer to town. She suffered no hardship living here, away from her own home.

  “Meow.”

  Sigmund appeared in the doorway, tail swishing leisurely. She bent to pick him up. The cat snuggled against her, going into a deep purr with sleepy eyes blinking.

  Trevor reclined on one of two lounge chairs, a wood table between.

  Jocelyn did the same on the vacant chair.

  “I’ve never seen a cat seek attention like that,” Trevor said.

  Glad for the nonthreatening, nonsexual talk, she let Sigmund go when he’d had enough. “It’s all about the owner.”

  Sigmund walked like a prince down the cushioned lounge chair and jumped down onto the deck. With all the time in the world, he went to Trevor’s chair, jumped up and stepped onto his legs.

  Trevor chuckled as Sigmund curled onto his six-pack stomach, Trevor folding his arms to create a cozy bed.

  “I’ve never seen him warm up to anyone so quickly,” Jocelyn said. “I’m a little jealous.” Usually she had Sigmund’s attention all to herself.

  Sigmund leaned into Trevor’s hand as he pet his head. “He’s more like a dog than a cat.”

  “And you thought dogs were better.”

  “Maybe we should have both.” Sigmund lifted his head when Trevor paused in his petting.

  The way he said we burned into her heart. Maybe this could work. They had no shortage of desire for each other. Would it last?

  “We’d have to buy a house. How attached are you to your condo?”

  “What about your house?” She’d never been there, which amazed her at first, until she reminded herself that his exaggerated work ethic had kept him from inviting her.

  “It’s too small. Two bedroom. Not much of a yard. I went for low maintenance.”

  Like her with her condo. Because they were both workaholics? Each with a different reason, but both stemming from experiences with family.

  “I’ve always imagined myself in a four-bedroom house,” she said. “Maybe with a loft or an office with French doors.” Or both. “Something with enough elbow room to raise kids.”

  He looked up from Sigmund, his hand stilling as he contemplated her. “How detailed did you imagine that?”

  Detailed. Jocelyn relaxed back against the chair, gazing out into the calm night, smelling the air, feeling the warm, soft breeze, swept away on imagination.

  “Frozen-themed bedroom for the firstborn girl. Cars or sports for the boy. Cartoon-painted walls. Vibrant colors. Toy chests. Lots of pillows and soft blankets. For me, I’d like an office where I can run a tutoring business. Teach slow-learning kids math and English, and maybe some unique history classes for others. Lord of the Rings style.” She smiled over at him and noticed how deeply he absorbed what she said. Normally when she started talking babies and family, he changed the subject. She sighed and rested her head back against the chair, still dreaming. “I’d like to go to festivals with my husband and kids. Neighborhood barbecues. Movies. Trips to Disney World and Yellowstone and historic landmarks.” When he said nothing, she rolled her head so she could see him. He watched her as though entranced by the picture she’d presented. “Haven’t you ever thought of that?”

  “Yes.” His gruff voice held pent-up emotion. “I’ve thought of all I lost when Matthew killed my mother.”

  That doused her fantasy, but encouraged her, as well. She’d taken him down a path he hadn’t taken, one filled with light and love. He followed a darker path. His imaginings centered on loss. Hers centered on abundance.

  He sought a brighter future, but did he know how to obtain it? She didn’t think so, and she wanted to show him the way.

  Getting up from the chair, she went to him. Sigmund saw her looming and hopped down from Trevor’s lap. She fully intended to take his place.

  Trevor followed her movements with dark intensity. He put his hands on her hips, the soft material of her nightgown hiking up. She felt air on the underside of her buttocks. The fly of his jeans felt rough against her softness.

  With her hands on each side of his stubbly face, she leaned in and kissed him, much as he’d done before. Swirling fire took her.

  His hands moved up her sides to her breasts. Their joined mouths and his caressing hands made her pulse soar.

  When his hands slid back down her sides and over her rear, she stopped kissing him. As he touched bare flesh, his eyes opened. Steaming passion flared there.

  Breathing through her mouth, Jocelyn moved back to unbutton his jeans. He watched her with those smoldering eyes, lifting his hips so she could push down his pants and boxers out of the way just enough.

  Rising up on her knees, she guided him while his hands tightened on her rear. Easing down on his thick circumference, she felt his iron-rod hardness stretch her. With her hands on his chest, she tipped her head back to sheer ecstasy as he kneaded her while she took him all the way inside of her.

  Burning hot for him, she moved her hips back and forth, starting a mild grind. The friction, the open air, his dark eyes, all sent her se
nses flying.

  He urged her for more, not moving his hips, letting her set the pace.

  She gyrated her hips, circular grinding that grew wilder with raging passion. She came with a building climax that erupted into mindless beauty.

  Trevor groaned and laid her back on the chair, with her head at the edge of the foot end. Her knees up and open, he reentered her with a hard shove. She leveraged herself with her heels on the arms of the chair. He thrust into her several times, mounting with urgency until he reached his peak, leaving nothing but awe when he finished.

  * * *

  The next day, Trevor took Jocelyn to lunch at Buckaroo Burgers. He’d just been briefed on the interview with the general manager, who’d sworn he wouldn’t say anything to the waitress. Last night kept playing sweet reruns, tormenting him into heated fantasies and distracting him in a major way. Jocelyn’s occasional bedroom-eyed glances weren’t helping. He’d caught her looking at him more than once and could tell she had last night on her mind, too.

  “She’s worked here for months?” Jocelyn asked, bringing him back to the present. “How is it that we never caught on to her?”

  “It’s remote. And according to the manager, she worked other jobs.”

  He held the door for her. At least today she wasn’t wearing a slinky black dress. Still, she’d put on tight jeans and a low-cut top that when stretched he could see the protrusion of her nipples. Did his presence do that to her? Memories of last night? It was a warm Texas day, so it couldn’t be from cold.

  He spotted the Regina look-alike. The manager had also told them what her shift was for today. She worked the lunch.

  “We’d like a table over there,” Jocelyn said to the hostess, who led them to the waitress’s section.

  Sitting down, Trevor watched Jocelyn get into her role, readying herself to annoy their possible suspect. Except every time she looked at him, sparks renewed.

  They’d both been a little awkward with each other. Jocelyn had noticed Trevor’s wariness when they woke this morning. But as soon as she kissed him, he melted all over again. It felt so great. She couldn’t believe this turn in their relationship. She felt lucky. Blessed. And on her way to a great love affair—with her new husband.