by Marie Force
Heavy footsteps on the stairs had her looking up to see her husband coming toward her, wearing only boxers. His muscular chest and arms were on full, delicious display, and his hair stood on end the way it did every morning.
Placing her empty teacup on the table, Tiffany smiled, because how could she not smile at the sight of the man who’d made everything right in her world again?
“You’re up early, baby,” he said as he dropped to the sofa next to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t like waking up alone.”
“Sorry. I was awake and didn’t want to bother you when you get so few opportunities to sleep in this time of year.”
He kissed her neck and cheek on his way to her lips. “You know how much I love to be bothered by you.”
When she returned his kiss, Tiffany tasted toothpaste and sexy man.
“Are you fretting about today?”
“A little.”
“A little or a lot?”
She smiled. How well he knew her. “A lot.”
“I’ll be right there with you, and we’ll get it over with as fast as possible.”
“For now. I’ll still have to testify when it goes to trial.”
“Maybe he’ll wise up and plead out when he realizes he’s totally screwed.”
“Giving up without a fight isn’t his style.”
Blaine ran his fingers through her hair.
Tiffany curled into him, taking the comfort he provided just by being there.
“Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”
“I don’t think I could eat. My stomach is in an uproar.”
He flattened his hand on the curve of her belly. “You need to feed my baby.”
“I will. After.”
“How about a shower?”
“That I do need.”
“Come on. I’ll help you.”
“Is that a line?”
He chuckled as he steered her up the stairs with his hands on her hips. In the bathroom, he helped her out of her robe and nightgown and followed her into the steaming-hot shower where he gently washed her hair and every other part of her.
Tiffany wrapped her arms around him and held on tight.
“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”
“What will Ashleigh think of me when she finds out that I helped put her dad in jail?”
Blaine tilted her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his fierce one. “None of this is your fault. Not one tiny part of it. You’re being legally compelled to meet with the prosecutor. You didn’t volunteer, and you don’t have a choice. When the time comes, we’ll tell her that if need be, but I have a feeling she won’t ask about it.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because she’s going to grow up happy and well-adjusted and very well loved by both of us. There won’t be anything lacking in her life.”
“He’s still her father, Blaine.”
“I know that, and she will, too, but that’ll be a minor detail to her.”
“For now.”
“Let’s deal with today and worry about tomorrow when it gets here. Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
He kissed the top of her head and held her close. “You’re the strongest person I know, Tiff. I have no doubt whatsoever that you’re going to get through this and every other challenge that comes your way.”
“Maybe so, but I’m so glad I have you here to keep me sane. I’d be losing it if I didn’t have you to tell me everything is going to be okay.”
“You’d be fine. You were fine before me, and you’d be fine without me.”
“But I like this so much better.”
“Me, too, baby.” He kissed her lips. “Let’s get this over with so we can get back to being blissfully happy.”
*
An hour later, Tiffany sat across from Sam Rhodes, the assistant attorney general, who’d taken the eight o’clock boat from the mainland to meet with her and Dan Torrington, who’d been assaulted by Jim. Their testimony would be critical to the prosecutor’s case, and he’d wanted to ensure they were all on the same page before next month’s trial.
Dan and his fiancée, Kara Ballard, were seated on the same side of the table as Tiffany and Blaine in the conference room at the public safety building that housed the police and fire departments.
“I want to thank you all for meeting with me today,” Rhodes said. “My goal here is to make sure we’re completely ready for trial. It’s important that you tell me everything you remember about that day, so there can be no surprises.”
“You have the police reports,” Blaine said. “We were very thorough in our reporting of this incident.”
“I do, and I commend your department for an excellent job, Chief, but I need to ensure that the testimony matches the reports. Mr. Torrington, I’d like to start with you.”
Dan walked Rhodes through the incident, from the second Jim showed up uninvited at the engagement party at the Summer House last summer. He’d been drunk and disheveled with an ax to grind against Dan, whom he accused of ruining his law practice on the island.
“Why did he think you’d done that?”
“I came out here looking for some peace and quiet and a place to write my book, and when people heard I was here, they started coming to me for legal advice. I’d gotten my Rhode Island license when I helped to get Charlie Grandchamp out of prison, so once the word got out that I was taking a few clients, I had more than I could handle. Apparently, that was the death knell for his already struggling practice.”
“Why was his practice struggling if he’d been the island’s only lawyer?”
“I can answer that,” Tiffany said, marshaling the courage she needed to fill in the blanks for the prosecutor so she could be done with this unsavory incident. “When Jim left me, he did so in grand style, taking every stick of furniture we owned, except my bed and our daughter’s bed. He even took the dresser that held her clothes. When the word got out, people around here didn’t like that he’d done that, and then, when I wanted to open my business, he made trouble for me. The island’s residents went to bat for me with the town council and left him humiliated once again. His reputation took a beating during all that.”
“The police report states that you attempted to confront your ex-husband at the engagement party, Mrs. Taylor,” Rhodes said.
“I did.”
“Why did you do that?”
Tiffany glanced at Blaine, remembering how furious and frightened he’d been by her attempt to defuse the situation. “I was trying to stop him before he made it worse. I asked him to think about our daughter and what he’d be doing to her if he hurt someone.”
“And he had the knife in hand at this point?”
Tiffany swallowed hard. “Yes, he did.”
“Then he called my wife a stupid bitch, and I grabbed him around the neck,” Blaine said. “He fought back, and that’s when Dan got hit by the knife.”
Rhodes took furious notes, nodding as they added each new detail.
“What’re the chances that he’s going to take a plea?” Dan asked.
“Slim,” Rhodes said. “According to his attorney, he’s very defiant.”
“Still.” Tiffany shook her head in disbelief. “After all this time, he still doesn’t get that he brought this on himself.”
“I’m not seeing any indication of that,” Rhodes said.
“Could I talk to him?” she asked, drawing a shocked stare from her husband. “Maybe if I could remind him what’s at stake for his daughter, he might be willing to see reason.”
“That’s not happening,” Blaine said in the flat, emotionless tone that reminded her of how angry he’d been after she confronted Jim at the engagement party.
“What if it would help?” she asked him. “What if I could convince him to take the deal and spare all of us a trial that his daughter will one day have to hear about?”
“If you’d like to see him,” Rhodes said, “I could ma
ke that happen.”
“She’s not going anywhere near him,” Blaine said.
“I’ll let you talk about that on your own,” Rhodes said, apparently sensing a marital meltdown in the works. “In the meantime, I appreciate your help in filling in some of the blanks for me, and I’ll be in touch ahead of the trial.” To Dan and Kara, he said, “I understand your wedding is next weekend. Please accept my congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Dan said. “Are we done?”
“For now,” Rhodes said.
The four of them left the conference room, and no one said a word until they were outside.
“We’ll see you at the wedding?” Dan said as he shook hands with Blaine.
“Yes, you will. Looking forward to it.”
“See you then.” Dan put his arm around Kara and led her to the parking lot.
Tiffany looked up at Blaine, who was staring off in the distance, his handsome face devoid of expression. “Say something.”
“Let’s go home.”
They drove in uneasy and unusual silence that fried her already rattled nerves.
At home, Blaine held the back door so she could go in ahead of him.
“Are we going to talk about this?”
“Nothing to talk about it,” he said. “It’s not happening.”
“That’s not how we operate, Blaine. You don’t give me orders like I’m one of your officers.”
“No, you’re my wife, the most precious thing in my world, and there’s no fucking way I’m letting you talk to that scumbag.”
Knowing he was running on pure emotion rather than anger, she went to him, slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, hearing the strong beat of his heart against her ear. “Even if it would help to put an end to this before trial?”
“Even then.”
“I think it’s worth a shot. If I can convince him to take a plea, he’d do less time in jail, and none of us would have to be put through a trial that Ashleigh will surely remember, despite our efforts to shield her from the details.”
“And who’s going to shield you?”
Tiffany looked up at him. “You will.”
“He’ll never talk to you if I’m there.”
“You’d go with me and wait for me outside the room and be there for me afterward, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, of course I would—if it were happening, which it is not.”
“I want to try this, Blaine, and I’m asking you to support me.”
“Don’t do that thing you do when you want your way and think you can bewitch me into forgetting my own name.”
She blinked rapidly and smiled up at him. “Would I do that to you?”
“Yes, you absolutely would. You do it all the time.”
“Only when I’m sure that what I want is the right thing for all of us.”
After a long pause in which he stared down at her, his golden-brown eyes intense and tender at the same time, he said, “Are you sure about this, baby?”
Tiffany nodded.
“All right, then,” he said with great reluctance that she could hear in his every word. “We’ll do it your way.”
Chapter 21
The first thing Mallory felt when she woke up was heat, the kind that came from either a furnace or the body of a sexy man pressed up against her, a heavy arm around her waist and warm lips against her shoulder. Not a terrible way to wake up, she thought, smiling at the realization that Quinn had sought her out in his sleep.
For the longest time, she lay there enjoying the feel of his body against hers, the comfort that came from his company—even when he was asleep—and anticipation for the day ahead. She hadn’t lived here long, and already she could feel her life changing in ways that she not only welcomed but embraced with open arms. More of her big boisterous family, one-on-one moments with her father, stepmother and siblings, a fun new job to keep her occupied during the summer and now this, whatever it was, with Quinn.
This was what she’d needed—a fresh new start and the time to really get to know her new family.
For the first time since she lost Ryan so many years ago, she didn’t feel rootless or detached from herself as much as the people around her. She didn’t feel like her wheels were spinning while she stood in place letting her life happen to her rather than the other way around.
Her young, dynamic husband would surely approve of these developments, as he’d wanted nothing more than for her to be happy and content. She let her gaze shift to the photo of him on her bedside table, drinking in the sight of his adorable face and the big smile he’d worn for their entire wedding day.
“Is that Ryan?” Quinn asked, his voice gruff with sleep.
Startled to realize he was awake, she said, “Uh-huh.”
“Handsome guy.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Gorgeous bride.”
“I clean up well.”
“Yes, you do, but you don’t need to clean up to be gorgeous.”
“Are you always this charming first thing in the morning, Dr. James?”
“When I have the proper inspiration.”
Mallory’s heart fluttered in approval of his reply. Handsome, sexy and charming—a deadly combination, at least as far as she was concerned. “How’s your leg?” During the night, she’d heard him get up once to use the bathroom and had forced herself to refrain from offering help. He’d gotten around okay on the crutches, and she’d breathed a sigh of relief when he got back in bed.
“Hurts like a motherfucker.”
“Let me get you some pain meds.”
“In a minute.” He nuzzled her neck and drew her in tighter against his body—and the erection that pressed against her ass.
A flash of heat lit up her body. “Quinn…”
“Hmm?”
“What’re you doing? You’re injured. You shouldn’t be…”
“What? Hard as a rock after waking up with you in my arms?”
“Yes. That.”
He laughed. “Sorry, babe. It’s basic biology, as you well know. A hot woman who smells like a dream and feels like heaven leads to a natural reaction in the helpless man who can’t seem to resist her.”
“He can’t resist her?”
“Nope.”
“I need to get up and get going. I have to work today, and before that I want to go to the boat and get what you need. I can get a ride out with Kara on the launch, right?”
“Don’t worry about it. Jared will do it for me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh. So does that mean you have time for more snuggling?”
“A little.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe.”
“Maybe or definitely?” His hand ducked under her T-shirt and left a heated path on the way to her breast, which he cupped as he ran his thumb back and forth over her nipple.
Mallory gasped and pushed back against him, her hips moving without her making a conscious decision to encourage him.
“I’ll take that as a definitely,” he whispered. He worked his other arm under her shoulders to hold her tight against him as his hand slid down the front of her into her pajama pants.
She sucked in a deep breath when he continued down, his fingers delving inside her panties. Mallory had to force herself to remain still so she wouldn’t move wrong and add to his pain—not that he seemed to be worried about his pain at the moment.
“Turn onto your back,” he said.
She moved carefully and found him propped up on an upturned arm, looking down at her with those brown eyes that she found so compelling.
“Mmm, much better.”
In the new position, he could reach between her legs and slide his fingers through her slick heat.
Groaning, he dropped his head to her shoulder and drove two fingers deep inside her. “So hot and so sexy.”
Between his words and the movement of his fingers, Mallory felt herself climbing toward the inevitable conclusion. Then he hooked his fingers, found her G-
spot and took her from climbing to soaring. She came hard, her hips rising as her internal muscles clamped down on his fingers.
“Ah, damn,” he said gruffly. “I can’t wait to feel that happen with my cock instead of my fingers.”
Mallory shivered from the aftershocks as much as the promise she heard in his words. She couldn’t wait either. When she’d recovered her composure, she reached for him, flattening her hand over his erection. “What about you?”
“You have to go to work. Can’t be late on your first day.”
“I won’t be late.” She tugged at the button to the khakis he’d slept in and unzipped him, moving carefully in light of the huge bulge that made unzipping difficult. Then she gave him a taste of his own medicine by caressing his bare chest and abdomen before letting her fingers wander inside his boxers to stroke his cock.
He gasped from the first contact of her skin against his.
Mallory took great pleasure in the feel of his long, thick, hot shaft as she stroked him and learned what made him shudder, and that was attention to the sensitive head, where she used her thumb to spread around a bead of fluid.
His fingers dug into the flesh on the top of her arm. “Ahhh, fuck, you’re going to make me come so hard.”
“Do it. I want to see that.” She stroked him from base to tip, keeping a tight grip as she moved from top to bottom.
Keeping his eyes closed, he moved with her, pushing into her hand until he came with a sharp cry that made Brutus bark and both of them laugh. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said a full minute later. “You’ve made a big mess.”
“That doesn’t count as a mess.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, mindful not to touch the cut on his bottom lip. “Don’t move.”
Feeling him watching her, she got up and went into the bathroom to retrieve a towel that she brought back to the bed to clean him up. Then she let Brutus out into the backyard, filled his bowl with food and got Quinn some pain pills and a glass of ice water.
“Thanks for taking care of me and Brutus.”
“My pleasure,” she said.
He took both from her with a grateful smile. “That was the best wakeup call I’ve had in years.”
Mallory smiled down at him. “Me, too.”
“I need to get hurt more often.”
