Tied Up in Knots

by Mary Calmes

  “What for?” he asked, his breath in my ear.

  “I’m gonna pass out and I don’t want to.”

  “But I want you to, so go to sleep.”

  No more prodding was needed.

  So after I slept like the dead for several hours, when I woke up, we shared a pillow and caught each other up.

  He already knew about Lochlyn being dead. They’d briefed him and the others at the CID office in DC. All the active military soldiers were taken to Fort Bragg and moved on base until either they were deployed again or until the threat—now clearly not Lochlyn—could be identified and handled. As a reservist Ian was on his own, but because he was a marshal, he had more options. The main one was simply to come home and let his partner, and his team, protect him. He’d opted for that, and since his Special Forces unit was not deployed, he came home to me.

  I cleared my throat. “So I have some news.”

  He turned his head to look at me, waiting.

  It occurred to me then that maybe I should have started the conversation because, perhaps, Hartley trumped Lochlyn.

  Or not. Hard to say until I opened my mouth and told him.

  “M?”

  I coughed softly and looked at his face, and man… he was all rumpled and sleep-tousled and a little bleary and open and trusting and I really didn’t want that to change.

  His grin curled his lip mischievously. “I think I know what it is.”

  I grimaced. “I don’t think you do.”

  “I think you wanna feel me deep inside,” he said gruffly, and the sound of him sent a caressing ripple through my body that made me catch my breath. “Oh yeah, you want me bad,” he said, rolling over on top of me.

  “Yes,” I husked, eyes drifting closed as I lifted for his kiss. “And Craig Hartley is out of prison.”

  After a moment, I realized that he wasn’t moving and the kiss was not forthcoming. Opening my eyes, I found all semblance of languor erased from my man, replaced by a glare that could have split a tree.

  “Now wait.”

  He climbed off me and scrambled over the side of the bed.

  “Ian.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  I groaned and grabbed the pillow, covering my face.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Oh that was loud.

  “Jesus fucking Christ!”

  I should have led with Hartley.

  “For fuck’s sake, Miro!” His roar probably rattled the house. “Craig Hartley is out of prison and you’re just getting around to telling me now?”

  I moaned into the pillow that smelled like him, and so, yes, I was in trouble, but… he was home. My heart was still dancing around, and nothing he could do would change it.

  “How dare you not—Miro!” he bellowed, stealing the pillow from me only to smack me first in the abdomen with it and then in the head.

  I tried really hard not to smile, but it came out anyway, which got me another smack in the face. “Owww, you shit,” I griped, laughing.

  “It’s not funny!”

  I heard it in his voice then, the fear and sadness, and saw it on his face when I looked up at him.

  He was stricken with dread.

  “I was so happy,” I entreated, reaching for his hand, easing him close, kissing his knuckles, his fingers, rubbing them over my stubble-covered cheek. “You were home and I lost my mind, I missed you so much, and then you just showed up and… Ian… baby….”

  He came down on top of me, grabbing me tight, and crushed me to his rock-hard chest, hugging me so tight I was afraid he’d compressed my lungs. But only for a second. Because in the next instant, the warmth of him engulfed me, seeped all the way down to my soul where my fear of Hartley lived, and washed calm into every dark corner.

  “I should have been here,” he said, the words painful as they tumbled out, suffused with regret. “Miro… forgive me.”

  I turned my head; my cheek wedged against his shoulder, and sighed in pleasure as I closed my eyes, more content than I could remember being in so very long. I wrapped him in my arms and squeezed, loving the feel of him, his strength and heat. “Nothing to forgive,” I vowed, exhaling deeply. “You’re here now.”

  “I am.”

  “Try and stay a little while, okay?”

  “Wild horses and all that,” he got out.

  I really hoped he was right.

  We stayed that way, wrapped around each other, tangled arms and legs, breathing together until I drifted off again. When my eyes fluttered open, I realized he was on the phone with someone, and after listening a moment, caught that it was Kage.

  Ian patted his chest and I moved over and draped myself over him, loving the feel of his warm, sleek skin, the slight slick of faint scars, a dapple of rough on smooth that I could feel under my fingertips as I traced over his ribs.

  “So they think he’s where, sir?”

  The steady beat of Ian’s heart lulled me back to sleep so fast I didn’t even realize I had passed out until I woke up under him.

  “Crap, I’m sorry.” I yawned, stretching.

  “No more sorry. We’re done with sorry,” he said, his smile lazy and beautiful.

  “Please don’t go anywhere,” I said before I thought about it.

  “I hate that I’m here and all you can say is don’t go.”

  I nodded because he was right, that was shitty. “I should get up.”

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “Ian, I—Ian!” He tackled me when I sat up, shoving me back down on the bed, and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips so any movement was out of the question. “What’re you—”

  “I’m not going, I’m staying, do you understand?”

  I nodded because my voice deserted me.

  He bent and kissed me, and I felt it, my heart fluttering around in my chest like a caged bird ready to fly, wanting out, needing to go to Ian, always with Ian.

  “I love you so much,” I whispered, the hurricane inside so much like anger that I had to make sure my words didn’t come out before I thought about each one. I was afraid if I vented my soul he’d find out how close to an ultimatum I truly was. Having him with me, knowing he could leave again, was almost as bad as him being gone. When they became truly equal, I wondered what would happen, and just thinking about that was terrifying.

  “You’re lookin’ at me like I’m a ghost.” He kissed my eyes and my nose and then softly, tenderly, ran his tongue across the seam of my lips, before parting them and taking what he wanted.

  I opened for him, returned each kiss with all the hunger inside, and when I was squirming under him, clutching at his thighs, he pulled back and grinned down at me.

  I judged him. “Evil.”

  His smirk was tantalizing. “Now tell me about Vegas. Who’d you bring home?”

  And just with a thought of Josue, my libido died. From hot languid lover to father figure in seconds flat. “You’ll see tomorrow.”

  “Wait,” he said as I pitched him sideways before I rolled up off the bed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Too late,” I announced, snorting out a laugh.

  His face fell. “That was stupid.”

  “You’re gonna like Josue,” I assured him. “He’s sweet. He insisted on bringing something for Turkey Day.”

  “Shit, we’re having more company, aren’t we. What is that, five of us now, or six?”

  I lost it. Six. Yeah, right. In his dreams.

  “Oh no.”

  I snickered.

  “What’d you do?”

  “I think we’re up to like twenty.” I cackled, head back, eyes closed, laughing myself silly.

  “Twenty?” He sounded horrified, and that didn’t help me to stop laughing at all.

  The unexpected banging on the front door, combined with the incessant doorbell ringing, got me back into my discarded pajama bottoms and T-shirt and down the stairs.

  “Wait,” Ian cautioned sharply, his voice carrying after me
. “Don’t open the door—lemme get my gun.”

  “We both know that’s not Hartley,” I assured him, darting to the front door and hurling it open, ready to take someone’s head off. I was startled to find Cabot, Drake, and Josue—and a very angry, very puffed-up Aruna on my doorstep, holding Chickie’s leash. It was weird that they were all there at the same time since she and the boys had never met.

  The werewolf got up on his back legs and licked me good morning, which scared the hell out of Josue—but not Cabot or Drake since they’d seen Chickie on a number of occasions—and then left me in a dead heat for the stairs where Ian now stood, squinting and shirtless.

  “Damn, Miro,” Josue breathed once he’d recovered from thinking I was wolf food. “No wonder you didn’t wanna do me.”

  “What?” Ian called over.

  I waved a dismissive hand at him and tipped my head at Aruna. “What’s with you and the doorbell?” I asked because I knew the boys, even Josue, and they would have never been so insidious with the ringing. It was her.

  “How dare you ask Janet to help you make dinner and not me!” She was mad, loud and shrieky.

  “You told me you were cooking for your in-laws this year,” I volleyed.

  “I know, but they don’t want me. They said I can’t cook traditional.”

  “What? Yes, you can.”

  “I know,” she agreed loudly. “But they don’t want the Indian girl cooking.”

  “That’s crazy,” I told her.

  “I know!” she almost shouted.

  “You can cook anything.”

  “I know!” she yelled, fuming.

  “Chickie, goddammit,” Ian complained behind me.

  “Wait, now,” I said to Aruna. “Just stand there a second all right?”

  She huffed out a breath and crossed her arms but she didn’t move.

  “Okay,” I began, turning to the boys. “Why’re you here?”

  “To tell you that we’re gonna go with Josue to see Lillian since we know where her office is and everything, so you don’t have to.”

  “Oh, nice, okay,” I said, my eyes slits as I regarded them. “You could’ve just called.”

  “Josue wanted to see your place.”

  “It’s nice,” he said, beaming at me, stepping in close, wrapping his arms around my waist and bumping his head against my chest. “But mostly I wanted to come over to say thank you for saving my life. I just love you.”

  “Hands off the marshal,” Ian boomed from behind me. “Chickie, will you give it a rest!”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, patting his back, looking to Drake for help and finding the same dopey expression on his face that Cabot, when I glanced at him, had on his. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled.

  The other two boys moved in and I was the center of a group hug.

  “Aww, that’s nice,” Aruna told me, leaning sideways to look at Ian. “You just let whoever comes in off the street hug your man?”

  “I’m getting my gun,” he announced, then gestured at Chickie. “Can you please call—”

  “He’s just happy to see you, you ungrateful piece of crap!” she snapped at him.

  “Why’re you mad at me?” Ian was indignant.

  “Janet,” she shouted. “You asked Janet to help you feed the horde, and not me?”

  “I wasn’t even—I didn’t do—wait, what horde? There’s a horde now?” Ian sounded really confused and a bit incredulous.

  She made a noise of disgust and directed her attention back to me, moving forward and scattering the boys until they all let go and she stood there in front of me, hands on hips, righteous anger rolling off her.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” I groused. “I thought you were with your goddamn relatives. Don’t blame me ’cause you communicate for shit.”

  “I wanna cook.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it calms me!”

  Of course it did.

  “Fine. I’d love you to cook. You know that.”

  “Good!”

  “Fine!”

  “Good!”

  We were silent a minute.

  “I’ll pick up Janet at the airport,” she squealed, excited now as she smiled, her shoulders lifting in happiness. “I can’t wait to see her.”

  “You’re insane,” I assured her as she leaned up to kiss me.

  I bent and offered her my cheek, and she patted it after giving me a gentle buss.

  “We’ll be here when you get home, so don’t come in here thinking you’re gonna get your kink on with your man.”

  “I’d pay to see that, actually,” Josue piped up, looking around me, tilting his head, clearly admiring Ian’s form. “That man is hot.”

  She put her hand on Josue’s shoulder. “You ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait’ll you meet my husband. He’s got muscles on top of muscles, and he’s all burly and gorgeous—you’re gonna die.”

  His face lit up as he looked at her.

  “And”—she waggled her eyebrows at him—“he’s a fireman.”

  “Oh girl,” Josue said, fanning his face.

  “I’ll introduce you tomorrow, uhm….”

  “Josue,” he sighed, offering her his hand.

  “I’m Aruna,” she said, sounding all sweet and nice, which was a total lie since she was a harpy through and through. “Who are your friends?”

  Somehow they all exchanged names and got to chatting, and Aruna offered to drive the boys downtown since that’s the way she was going. I didn’t care. They all left, so I was happy.

  Closing the door, I faced a very distraught-looking Ian, whose hair was all standing up on one side.

  “What’d you do?”

  Apparently Chickie had licked it up that way.

  “Your hair is full of dog drool,” I said, laughing.

  “Horde?” he repeated, sounding a bit unhinged.

  “Group,” I amended helpfully.

  He left me for the kitchen in search of coffee.

  LATER THAT morning, in the office, Kage wanted to see Ian alone, and while he was in with the boss, I got a call from downstairs that I had visitors at the security checkpoint. As I got closer to the front doors, I heard my name.

  I was halfway expecting Janet, even though Aruna said she was picking her up, and Josue and the boys would not have been a surprise, though with Josue being a present witness, he could have come through security. So it was a surprise to see Colin Doyle, Ian’s estranged father, standing there with his wife, Linda, Ian’s stepmother.

  After walking out through the checkpoint, I offered him my hand as soon as I was close enough.

  “Hello, sir,” I greeted him, and then Linda, who I was surprised reached for me as well. “How are you?”

  “Good,” he said quickly, looking uncomfortable. “But we’re having a problem with Lorcan, our youngest.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “His friends told us that he was picked up by the police, but we’ve been calling since last night and can’t find him anywhere,” Linda said frantically, looking sheepish for having blurted all that out.

  “What was he arrested for?”

  “We don’t know,” Colin told me.

  “Okay, let’s go upstairs.” I moved them both in front of me, and the three of us went through the express line reserved for officers of the court. I put lanyards on both of them once we were through and signed them in to the visitor log.

  As we got off the elevator, I looked toward my desk, and in that instant when Ian saw me, his face lit up, and then he saw his father, and his face fell.

  “He hates me,” Colin mumbled.

  “No, sir,” I corrected him. “Begging your pardon, but no, Ian hasn’t reached out, but neither have you.”

  “That’s what I told him,” Linda explained, and I took a moment to look at her. Even though I would never like her after what she pulled on Colin’s 60th birthday party—excluding Ian, and his dead mother, from a slideshow of his father’s life—she was,
empirically, a very beautiful woman. She had grace and a delicate voice, was immaculately dressed, and her makeup and jewelry were elegant and understated. What she was doing with Colin, I had no idea. He was a bull; she was a ballerina. I didn’t really get it, but I didn’t have to. “I said that if he wants a relationship with Ian, he has to call him and stop waiting for him to need a dog sitter.”

  “Yes,” I said, leading them into one of the smaller conference rooms and sitting them down. After I checked to see if they were thirsty, I left them there to go back to my desk and get on my computer.

  “What’re they doing here?” Ian asked, rolling around his desk and coming to a stop beside me. He crowded close, as he’d always done. I’d missed seeing that the first three years of our partnership, before we got together.

  “He’s here looking for Lorcan. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “But he didn’t want my help?”

  “I think he’s hedging his bet, right? He comes here asking for me, and if you get involved, then he has his in. If you don’t… well… he still needs help finding his kid.”

  “His kid,” Ian repeated.

  “Which you are too,” I pointed out.

  “Not really,” Ian said quietly. “I haven’t really been his since he left my mom and me.”

  I turned to look at him. “Does being the most important thing in my life help at all?”

  He leaned so his lips brushed my right ear. “It’s everything now, M. You know that.”

  I shivered, feeling the goose bumps erupt down my arm. “Knock it off, I’m working. Giving me wood at my desk is not helpful.”

  His low chuckle made me think of sex, which was bad when I was in marshal mode.

  “Can you go back to your desk?”

  He bumped me with his shoulder before looking at my screen and squinting.

  “Why’re you doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Can you see that screen?”

  “What?” His voice rose almost to a squeak.

  “Holy shit, you need glasses.”

  “I do not.”

  “You need reading glasses.”

  “I do not.”