The Sergeant's Secret Son

by Bonnie Gardner

  He loved the way she called him Alex! Macy couldn’t help being pleased. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was a start. She couldn’t help thinking that it was an encouraging sign.

  Alex reached into the big envelope in his hands and Macy instantly stopped thinking about love. Why hadn’t he seated himself beside her? Could this be court papers? She had to be realistic. Alex had made a 180-degree turn since he’d found out that Cory was his son, but he still had rights.

  Was he here to enforce them?

  “I found out what happened to your father.”

  It was the last thing she would have expected Alex to say, and Macy sat there for what seemed like an hour, stunned. She felt as if she’d had the breath knocked out of her, and she tried to make sense of what Alex had just said.

  “You found out what happened to Daddy?” How she’d come to be standing, she didn’t know. “Why?” she finally managed, looking at Alex for answers, even as a slight feeling of irritation formed in her brain. “What business did you have poking into my life?”

  Now that Macy had actually asked that question, Block wasn’t sure how to answer it. After all, he’d made some pretty sweeping assumptions before he’d decided to take that large and presumptive step. He swallowed and tried to figure out how to answer.

  “Maybe I was jumping to conclusions,” he said as he removed the papers from the cardboard envelope, “but it just seemed to me that your doubt about your father’s love has colored everything you’ve done in your life. I thought if there was a good reason for Corny not to have come back that it might make a difference about how you feel about yourself.” He paused, swallowed and moistened his lips.

  And me, he didn’t say.

  Macy drew in a deep breath, then let out a long, low sigh. “And you think it will?” she asked in wavering tones that emphasized her uncertainty. At first, Block had thought she might be angry, but now he could see that her innate curiosity had kicked in.

  Block shrugged. “Yeah. I think it will,” he answered huskily. He offered the papers to her. “It isn’t a lot, but it clears everything up.”

  Macy accepted the papers with trembling fingers. She ran a slender hand over the top page, as if hoping that she could sense what it would tell her from the texture of the paper. Then she looked skyward as if issuing a prayer. Finally, she drew in another long breath and looked at the first page.

  Her eyes widened and she stared, seemingly stunned at what she saw. She moved the top page to the back of the small stack and looked at the next, then the next. “He died?” Macy said, her voice thin and thready as if she wasn’t sure she should believe it. “He died.” She seemed to tremble harder. “He didn’t leave us?” She shook her head, and then a slow smile crossed her face. “He didn’t leave me. He would have come back.”

  Seeing the expression of wonder on Macy’s beautiful face was all the payment he’d ever need for his deed. Block returned her smile. “No, honey. He didn’t leave you and C.J. and Ty. At least, not on purpose.” Block took the papers from her hands and laid them on the couch. He closed his hands over hers and pulled her close. “He didn’t want to leave you all alone, but he’d barely arrived in Detroit when he was killed in that boardinghouse fire.”

  Block tried to temper his words, but after so many years of believing that her father had abandoned her, this had to be good news, though shocking. “Your dad was so new in town that he hadn’t started a job, and he’d barely found a place to live. What records there might have been were destroyed in the fire. No one there knew how to reach his family.”

  He gathered Macy into his arms, against his chest, and tucked her head up under his chin.

  “They didn’t know where to reach us?” Macy whispered. “He didn’t leave me?”

  “No, honey. He loved you. He went up north to try to find a better life, but…sometimes stuff happens.” Block swallowed, trying to contain his own emotion. “It wasn’t about you. He loved you and C.J. and Ty. He would have come back for you if he could.”

  “He loved me? He would have come back for us?” Macy seemed almost too stunned to comprehend what she’d been told. She stepped back and looked up at him, then she swayed and her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Alex. Block. Thank you.” She sagged and Block caught her by the elbow before she could fall. “He loved us.”

  Why it was important for him to repeat it, Block didn’t know, but repeat it he did. “He went up north to find a good job to provide a better life for you and your brothers. He didn’t abandon you. He tried the best he could to take care of you. It just didn’t work out the way he had planned it.”

  Block drew her close. He’d seen Macy so tired she could barely stand and she did, but now he wasn’t sure how she’d managed to stay upright. What he’d shown her had to have been a shock. It had almost knocked him off his feet. “Macy. Are you all right?”

  She looked up into his eyes, her own eyes filled with tears and managed a watery smile. “Yes, I’m fine.” Tears rained from her eyes.

  He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb to wipe away more of the moisture. He felt helpless now. He had no idea what to do. “Then why are you crying?” If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand the way women worked. “Why the tears?”

  “Because I’m so…so…happy,” she said, then broke down and wept in earnest. She pressed her head against Block’s chest and grabbed hold of the fabric of his shirt and clung to it until she’d twisted it into tight knots, and all he could do was hold her as she cried.

  Block held her against his heart and stroked her head, tangling his fingers in her thick, curling hair, removing the pins, one by one, that held it in its confining ball. He felt so helpless now. He hadn’t known exactly how Macy would react, but he hadn’t anticipated this. Hell, what had he expected? Did he think she was going to turn cartwheels?

  He bent down to kiss the top of her head and breathed in the soft, fruity fragrance of her shampoo. “It’s all right, Macy. It’s all right,” he murmured as he listened to her rasping sobs. “You just cry, baby. You need to get it all out. You need some time to get over your anger and to really grieve.” All he could do was soothe her and hope that he’d done the right thing by bringing her this news.

  Finally, Macy cried herself out. She pressed her face harder against Alex’s chest. She could hear his heart beating, strong and regular, against her cheek and the steady rhythm soothed her. “I could stay here forever with you like this,” she murmured.

  She sniffed back a final sob and wiped at her raw and burning eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, her nose stuffy from crying. “I think I’ve ruined your shirt.” She tried to smooth the wrinkles out with her hand, but of course, it was useless.

  Alex tipped her head up to look at his face, and he smiled gently down at her. “It’s only a shirt, Macy. I have others. What’s important is you. Do you want me to do anything for you?”

  Macy managed an anemic smile. “Just hold me,” she whispered. “You make me feel so safe. So protected.” She swallowed a sob.

  Alex chuckled, the sound rumbling deeply from his chest. “Now, don’t you start that again.” He tipped her face up to him again and brushed at her damp cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll just make your beautiful hazel eyes all red and puffy.” He paused. “You must be dead on your feet. Let’s sit down.” Without waiting for her to say yea or nay, he drew her down to the couch, then settled her onto his lap. He stroked her back, patting it as though she were a child. He did everything he could think of to make her feel protected and wanted. Desired.

  “Alex?” Macy whispered as she made herself comfortable in his arms. “I feel so safe here with you,” she murmured, snuggling closer to his chest. Alex caught her chin and tipped it up. His lips met hers and her breath caught in her throat. Every time he kissed her it was a shock. And every time it got better.

  He started out gently, then made as if to draw away, but Macy pulled him to her. She pressed her mouth against his as
she tried to telegraph her needs to him. He seemed to understand and returned her kisses twofold.

  Why was it always like this? Every time they got too close they seemed to explode with passion. Every time he held her in his arms, she wanted to feel his skin next to hers. To feel his body become one with hers.

  She felt his hands against her back as he pressed her closer to his chest, she heard the rasp of his breath as he plundered her lips and plunged his tongue deep. He gave; she took. She offered; he accepted. Nothing mattered except the feel of his body pressed against hers.

  She moaned against his lips, then pushed herself away. She’d had enough of this kissing. She needed more. “Take me to the bedroom, Alex. Make love to me.”

  He rose and settled her in his arms in one fluid movement, carrying her as he had Cory. She seemed so fragile, so delicate, so light in his arms.

  “If you don’t make love to me now, Alex Blocker, tonight, right now, I just might explode.”

  Alex chuckled, and again his laughter rumbled against her chest. “Can’t let that happen,” he said, then carried her toward her room.

  He seemed to be trembling, and Macy was certain he was trying to hold back. The other times they’d made love this week, they’d been lost in passion. It had come fast and furious. Now he was trying to take it slow.

  Macy’s heart swelled with love, but she didn’t want to wait. She started to undo the buttons of her shirt, and he brushed her hands away.

  “No, let me do that,” he whispered huskily. “I want to unwrap you like a present.”

  “Then I want to unwrap you, too,” Macy replied. She reached for the top button of the placket of his shirt. They were in each other’s way as they fumbled with their clothing. Macy couldn’t help laughing, and Alex joined in.

  “I think we’d better do it ourselves,” Macy said, falling back on the bed. “Or we’ll never get done.”

  Alex leaned over her, propped on his elbows, and lowered his lips to hers. He planted a quick kiss on her mouth, and then pushed himself back up. “We’ll have plenty of time to do this more leisurely next time.”

  Macy loved it that Alex had said “next time,” as if he assumed it was a given. Would they ever be able to take it slow and easy?

  He turned his back slightly, and Macy had to chuckle at his apparent modesty as he pulled the dark Polo shirt over his head. She almost forgot to undo her own shirt as she watched the powerful muscles in his back play in the scant light thrown in through the window.

  How had Alex undressed so quickly? She seemed overdressed and, in spite of the air-conditioning, the room had turned uncomfortably warm. Alex turned and frowned at her lack of undress as she shimmied out of her slacks. His frown turned to an expression of pure admiration as she leaned back on her elbows wearing only her bra and panties.

  “Now, that’s the kind of wrapping a man can appreciate,” Block said as he reached for her. He wanted to peel those thin straps off her shoulders one by one, then release the soft round orbs the cups covered.

  Macy reached around her to unhook her bra, but Block stopped her. “No, let me do it my way,” he rasped.

  Macy smiled the kind of smile that told a man he was wrapped around her finger, but Block didn’t care. He was caught—hook, line and sinker—and he couldn’t care less.

  First he spread her hair around to spill loose and curling over her shoulders. “I love the way your hair feels when it’s loose and free. I wish you never had to put it up,” he whispered as he untangled the riotous curls with his fingers.

  Macy smiled, but said nothing as she waited to see what he would do next.

  Block pushed the first strap down over her shoulder, wondering at the sheer smoothness of her skin. He kissed the velvety skin that the strap had barely covered, and pushed the other strap down.

  Only then did he reach behind her and undo the two tiny hooks that held the lacy fabric around her breasts. The soft globes fell free and he cupped them in his hands. He teased her nipples until they were hard as diamonds, and then he suckled.

  Macy didn’t know if she would be able to wait another moment as wave after wave of sensation crashed over her. She couldn’t breathe, she gasped for breath. “Please, Alex,” she finally managed. “Please.”

  He raised his head and looked deep into her eyes, seeming to read her request in their depths. But just to make sure, she told him. “I want you, Alex. I want to feel you inside me. Don’t make me wait another moment.”

  He didn’t speak, but positioned himself between her legs. With one strong thrust he was inside her, and once again, they were one.

  BLOCK COULDN’T remember the last time he had felt such pleasure. Yes, he did. Every time he made love with Macy.

  He lay there, Macy snuggled against him, their bodies damp with perspiration, their hearts beating in unison, and stroked her unbound hair. This is what love was all about, he realized for the first time in his life. This is what made life worth living.

  Macy moaned with satisfaction and stretched catlike in his arms. “I could lie like this forever,” she murmured drowsily. “Don’t ever let me go.”

  Block kissed the top of her head, and Macy wriggled around to kiss his lips. “I won’t leave you, Macy,” he whispered against her mouth. Then she pressed her lips against his again and they didn’t need to talk to communicate their wants and needs.

  The phone beside the bed rang, and he stopped still, afraid to move. “No. Not now,” he groaned.

  “Let the machine take it,” Macy said. “It can’t be anything as important as this.”

  The answering machine in the living room played its spiel, and Macy and Block clung together, holding their breath as they listened.

  It was the monitoring service for the clinic’s alarm system. Macy let out an impatient breath and scrambled out of Block’s arms. She snatched the receiver off its cradle. “I’ll be right there,” she told someone tersely.

  She turned toward Block. “It’s probably nothing, but I have to go and shut off the alarm.” Macy looked around for her hastily discarded clothes and dressed quickly, while Block did the same.

  Macy hurried to the living room, grabbing her hair and twisting it into a loose knot at the back of head and anchoring it with a couple of pins. She searched for her purse, grabbed it up, and hurried toward the front door. She turned back toward Block and cocked her head seductively. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

  WHAT HAD JUST HAPPENED here? Block couldn’t help thinking. One moment he’d had a willing woman in his arms, and the next he’d been standing there hard and hurting and helpless to do anything.

  He started after her. “Wait. I’ll go with you. I can help.”

  Macy turned, her hand on the doorknob. “No. Stay. You have to stay here with our son. I won’t be gone more than thirty minutes. I need your help more here.”

  He watched as she drove away and long after her red taillights disappeared in the distance.

  She’d said she’d be right back.

  He was counting on that.

  And he remembered exactly where they’d left off.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The front door of the clinic was gaping wide when Macy arrived, but she was so distracted by what had happened—what had been interrupted at home—that she didn’t think about the significance of that open door. Her only thought was to shut off the alarm, lock up again, and hurry back to Alex to finish what they’d started.

  She dashed up the front steps and ducked in the door. The lights were off, so she flipped the switch. Macy gasped as the overhead light illuminated the scene. That’s when reality hit her.

  Files were strewn everywhere and the previously locked glass cabinets above the reception desk had been pried open. Some were hanging by a hinge and all had been cleaned out, the contents strewn all over the floor.

  She looked around in dismay as she stepped farther into the room. She slipped on some loose papers and broken glass. As she righted herself, she saw a fa
int trail of blood, tiny droplets, but startling in the harsh, fluorescent overhead light, that led toward the back of the clinic.

  She found him slumped on the floor of Exam 2.

  He was a young man, gauntly thin with dark circles around sunken eyes. His skin was ashen, emphasizing a face full of acne. He was dressed in a dirty uniform like the ones gas station attendants wore, his dingy blond hair was dirty and his nails weren’t much cleaner. There was a cut, marked by a smear of blood, on his hand, probably from breaking into the cabinets, that he’d tried to stanch with some tissues. For the most part, the bleeding had stopped.

  Macy drew in a resigned sigh as she bent down to examine him more closely. His chest rose and fell in a reasonably even rhythm, so he wasn’t in any immediate distress. He seemed to be sleeping, not unconscious, but obviously he was under the influence of some substance. She detected the odor of grease and oil and dirty man, but she smelled no alcohol. He was obviously on some kind of drug.

  Was that what he’d been searching for when he’d broken in to the clinic? she wondered as she bent to examine him.

  “Oh, your poor man. Don’t you know that doctors don’t keep drugs in their offices?” But as she touched him, the man grabbed her and dragged her to the floor.

  Before she had a chance to defend herself, Macy found herself sprawled, facedown, with the man, obviously stronger than he looked, pinning her down.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” the man rasped in a panicky voice. “I just want to get out of here.”

  Macy could barely breathe with the weight of the man pressing on her. “I won’t say anything. I don’t know who you are. Just go. There’s nothing here that you need.”

  The man started to let her up, but pushed her back down when a voice called out from the front of the clinic. “Dr. Jackson. Do you need any help?”

  “Go back. I have a pa—” Macy shrieked, but the man clapped his dirty hand over her mouth before she had a chance to finish. The alarm company must have summoned the sheriff’s department when she hadn’t given them the all-clear. She hoped that help had not come too late.