“I miss you.”
Her heart lurched against her ribs before settling back to a normal rhythm. She opened her mouth, closed and opened it again, but no words came out.
“Did you hear me, Tessa?”
“Yes…yes, I heard you.” Her voice was quivering. He’d verbalized what she was feeling. They’d slept together one night, and Tessa couldn’t believe how much she wanted to be with him at that very moment.
“Good night, Micah.”
There came another silence before he said, “Good night, Tessa.”
Tessa ended the call and turned off the lamp. Even though she was tired, sleep was slow in coming. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before she relaxed enough to fall asleep, albeit restlessly. Her dreams were filled with erotic images of Micah making love to her, and when she finally awoke she was more exhausted than she’d been before going to bed.
CHAPTER 14
Micah sat in chambers in a Brooklyn community court, going over a defendant’s file with the judge, a social worker from a community-based drug treatment program and a public defender. He’d spent a restless Sunday night mentally beating up on himself for admitting to Tessa that he’d missed when he’d only left her hours before. Once the words were out, he’d been unable to retract them because that was how he’d felt at the time.
But when he lay in bed hours later recalling everything about Tessa—the silken feel of her skin against his, her begging him to make love to her, her smell, the sensual moans she was helpless to control during lovemaking and the aftermath of her trembling body after she’d climaxed—he knew he’d told her the truth.
Tessa Whitfield had called, as she’d promised, to ask him out to dinner, while he, in a moment of weakness, had confessed to missing a woman he’d known a week. He knew he had to be careful—very, very careful—otherwise he’d find himself in over his head emotionally. In the past, he’d always been the one to control where he wanted his relationship with a woman to go. He’d call if he promised to call and he’d made it a practice never to date more than one woman at a time.
Although he’d had his share of one-night stands, none of his liaisons ever made the one-year mark. There was something about seeing a woman for more than a year that frightened him. Edgar Sanborn had preached to his sons that if they dated a woman exclusively for a year, then she was worth marrying. What Micah’s father didn’t know was that he wasn’t like his other sons because he didn’t want to marry or father children.
Forcing his attention back to the discussion circulating around the table, Micah focused on the printout in the file. “My recommendation is that he’s to be mandated to a substance-abuse treatment program with close monitoring by probation. If he turns up dirty, then he’ll be violated and he’ll have to serve the remainder of his sentence.”
The judge peered over his reading glasses at the Legal Aid attorney busy entering notes on a legal pad. “I think the D.A.’s office is quite generous this morning, Miss McDonald, wouldn’t you say?”
Jill McDonald’s closed expression did not change with Judge Andrew Carr’s query. With straight salt-and-pepper hair secured in a tight bun, light blue eyes, a pale face and mouth and an omnipresent dour expression, Jill was perceived as a bumbling, stuttering and insecure jurist until she took center stage in the courtroom.
“I believe the A.D.A. is being a bit hard-nosed, Judge Carr,” Jill countered.
Micah’s eyebrows lifted. “If I were truly hard-nosed, then we wouldn’t be sitting here discussing an alternative to your client’s incarceration.”
Jill pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She knew when she was bested, but her dogged determination wouldn’t let her concede that easily. “Mr. Sanborn, are you aware that my client has no priors?”
“Yes. And the reason your client is being seen in the community justice center is because he has no prior criminal record. He’s charged with misdemeanor assault and possession with intent to sell and he tested positive for cannabis. He’s admitted to having ties with a local street gang, so if you don’t accept my office’s recommendation, then his case will be turned over to the Gang Bureau Rackets Division. Miss McDonald, you should know that most gang members who live the thug life wind up in two places—dead or in jail. It’s your choice. Community justice court or criminal court?”
Jill emitted a long, audible sigh. There was no way she wanted to put a frightened seventeen-year-old through a court trial where he was certain to spend a minimum of eighteen months in jail. “I’ll accept community justice court.”
Judge Carr smiled at the taciturn public defender. “Thank you, Miss McDonald.”
Micah spent the next half hour conferencing the cases on the morning’s calendar. He asked the judge to hear the case of a defendant who hadn’t attended his treatment sessions for the past week before the others listed on the docket.
If the judge remanded a defendant to spend several nights in jail, it usually got the attention of everyone sitting in the courtroom, especially defendants new to community court.
“Do you have any objections, Mr. Kinsella?” Judge Carr asked the social worker.
The young man shook his head. “No, Judge.”
The quartet filed out of the judge’s office, down a narrow hallway and into the courtroom.
* * *
The doorbell rang as Tessa made her way down the staircase, at the same time slipping her arms into the sleeves of a black cashmere coat. Dressed in the ubiquitous black that most New Yorkers affected year-round, she was more than ready for her date with Micah, if for no other reason than to relax and unwind from two days of frenetic activity.
It’d begun early Monday morning with the delivery of wedding stationery for the Sanborn-Cohen nuptials. Juan Cruz had designed the invitations, response and seating cards and the menu on silver parchment with black satin ribbon, and the result was a stunning sophistication. It took more than two hours for her to check and double-check the accuracy of the addresses of the wedding guests.
She stepped off the last stair, walked to the door and peered through a panel of glass. Her heart rate accelerated. As usual, Micah was on time. She opened the door to find him glaring down at her. Stunned by his scowling expression, she missed the expert cut of his dark gray tailored suit he’d paired with a stark white shirt and gray-and-white houndstooth patterned silk tie.
“Please come in. I just have to get my handbag.”
Micah stalked into the foyer and caught Tessa’s upper arm. “Didn’t I warn you about opening your door without knowing who’s on the other side?”
It was her turn to frown. “I knew it was you, Micah.”
He tightened his grip. “Do you have X-ray vision where you can see through doors?”
Tessa tried extricating her arm, but she was no match for his superior strength. “Let me go.” He dropped his hand. “First of all, you were the only one I expected to show up here at this time. Secondly, if it had been anyone else, my very vigilant neighbor with a pair of powerful binoculars who lives across the street would’ve been able to give the police a very accurate description of a perpetrator if something had happened to me.”
Micah’s expression softened as he took a step and cradled Tessa’s face in his hands. “But what I don’t want is for anything to happen to you.”
Her hands came up to grasp his strong wrists. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“It better not,” he said softly. He lowered his hands.
Tessa fixed her gaze on his firm mouth. “And why is that?”
His lips parted in a slow, sensual smile. “I didn’t give the NYPD twenty years to spend my pension hiring someone to guard you.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would, Tessa. So don’t test me.”
“What is this all about, Micah? Is this because I live in Brooklyn? Or is this—”
“It has nothing to do with where you live,” he said, cutting her off. He ran a hand over his face. Closing his eyes, h
e inhaled a deep breath before letting it out. He opened his eyes. “It’s about you, Tessa.”
“What about me?”
“I like you.”
“And I like you, too.”
Anchoring a hand under her chin, Micah leaned closer. “Liking you means I don’t want anything to happen to you. Promise me that you’ll be more careful.”
Leaning into his warmth and strength, Tessa looped her arms under his shoulders. Not only did he look good but he smelled and felt good, too. “I promise.” She pulled back. “I’d love to stay and chat with you, but if we don’t get going, we’re going to be late for our reservation.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Micah’s gaze moved slowly from Tessa’s flyaway curly hairdo and down to her lips outlined in a seductive raspberry hue that matched the color on her lids and her graceful cheekbones. Reaching out, he buttoned up her coat, then lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers. “I’m ready.”
Tessa retrieved her handbag and activated the alarm system while he waited on the stoop to wait for her to lock up. “I’m parked around the corner.”
“There’s no need for you to get your car. The restaurant is within walking distance.”
He escorted her down the stoop, his gaze narrowing when he noticed the curtains hanging at the front window of the brownstone across the street move slightly. “I think your neighborhood security guard is on duty.”
Tessa smiled. “Mrs. Burgess is an insomniac. I ran into her the other day and she told me she was going to call the police to have your car towed because it was illegally parked. But when she came out to check your license plate she noticed your NYPD and D.A. placards in the windshield.”
“Damn!” Micah drawled. “She’s nosey like that?”
“She’s lonely, Micah. She was widowed a couple of years back, and with her children and grandchildren living on the West Coast, she spends most of her time staring out the window and patrolling the block.”
“Do you ever invite her over for coffee?”
“No, but she’s invited me.”
“Have you taken her up on her offer?”
“I did a few times.”
Micah tucked Tessa’s hand into the bend of his elbow. “You’re a good neighbor, Tessa Whitfield.”
They walked for several blocks in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It was an almost perfect fall night with a near-full moon in a clear sky littered with millions of stars. The autumnal decorations festooning front doors would soon be replaced with Christmas wreaths with the approaching holiday season.
“The restaurant is down this street.”
Micah was surprised to discover that the tiny restaurant was tucked inside a narrow cobblestone alleyway. They were greeted by the owner of The Bijoux—a tall, thin man dressed entirely in black, with a shaved head and a goatee.
Jason Riley kissed Tessa on both cheeks. “Where on earth have you been, stranger?”
Tessa gave him a tender smile. “I’ve been busy, JR.”
Jason winked at her, his dark eyes sparkling like onyx. “So busy that you couldn’t stop by and let a friend know that you were still alive.”
Wrapping her arm around Micah’s trim waist inside his suit jacket, she smiled up at him. “Micah, this is my very good friend, Jason Riley. JR and I went to the same high school. Jason—Micah Sanborn.”
The two men exchanged handshakes as a waitress wearing a cancan outfit came over and took Tessa’s coat. She guided them to their table, where Micah seated Tessa before rounding the table to sit opposite her. The dining establishment was an exact replica of a Parisian café. Prerecorded music playing a soft bluesy number added to the subdued laid-back ambience. The Bijoux, with a seating capacity of fifty was half-filled, with more patrons steadily streaming into the cozy dining establishment.
Micah stared at Tessa, transfixed. The glow from a lighted votive bathed her face in a shimmer of gold. It highlighted the tawny gold-tipped curls framing her face, and with her black off-the-shoulder cashmere sweater and wool pencil skirt, dark stockings and suede pumps, Tessa Whitfield was the epitome of Bohemian chic.
Tessa registered the strange look on her dining partner’s face. “What’s wrong?”
There came a swollen silence. “There’s nothing wrong except that…” His words trailed off.
Her eyebrows flickered slightly. “If you don’t want to eat here, then we can go to another restaurant.”
The tense lines in Micah’s face relaxed. He, who was never at a loss for words, found that he was unable to tell Tessa what he was feeling at that moment. He’d admitted to her that he liked her; however, the liking was more intense than any he’d ever felt for a woman. “It’s not the restaurant.”
Tessa couldn’t stop the frown forming between her eyes. “Why,” she said softly, “do I get the impression that you’re uncomfortable because I asked you out on a date?”
Micah stared across the small space, complete surprise freezing his features. “You think I’m upset because you asked me out?” She nodded. “Wrong, Tessa. Despite what you might believe about me, I’m not a chauvinist.”
“What’s with all of the talk about paying someone to keep an eye on me?”
Lowering his head, he bit back a grin. “Once you get to know me better you’ll realize I’m just a blowhard.” His head came up. “But I am serious about you being more careful as to who you open your door to. You have an alarm, but have you considered putting in a close-circuit camera?”
Reaching across the table, Tessa rested her right hand atop Micah’s left one. “Yes, I have. In fact, I called a company last week and I have an appointment with one of their salespeople Thursday morning.” The attractive slashes in his lean jaw appeared when he smiled, the gesture making the breath catch in her chest. “Now will you stop sweatin’ me?”
“I’ll think about it.”
She gripped his fingers, her nails biting into the flesh on the back of his hand. “Micah!”
“Okay, baby,” he conceded, gritting his teeth against the pain. She removed her hand when a waiter approached the table and handed them menus. “Speaking of dating—are you free this weekend?”
“I’m free Friday night. Why?”
“I’d like you to go with me to a scholarship dinner-dance hosted by the National Latino Officers Association.”
She smiled. “I’d love to go.”
“What about Saturday?”
“I can’t commit to Saturday because I’m meeting with the parents of a young girl who’s having a quinceañera. It’s a Spanish equivalent to a sweet sixteen,” she explained when seeing Micah’s puzzled expression. “Sunday is also out because I’m meeting with Bridget at your parents’ house. Will you be there?”
“I hadn’t planned on going. But if you want, I’ll drive you.”
“It can’t be in your car. There’s not enough room to store a box of wedding gowns.”
“Then I’ll drive your car.”
“Okay. But I’m not playing football.”
“Aw, baby. Be a sport.”
She leaned over the table. “I don’t play sports, sport. My reason for going to New Jersey is business, not fun and games.”
Micah picked up his menu, pretending interest in the selections. “Dress casually, baby.”
“Dream on, mister.” Tessa picked up her own menu. JR had added several new dishes since her last visit to The Bijoux.
“If you finish up early Saturday, then I’d like you to spend the night with me.”
A slow smile crinkled her eyes. “Are you inviting me to a sleepover?”
“Yes. And we’ll top it off with a very special Sunday brunch before leaving for Jersey.”
She saw the tenderness in Micah’s gaze, felt the sexual magnetism that permitted him to be so self-confident. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I just don’t want you to regret breaking your vow to go out with me.”
; “There’s not going to be any regrets. What we have is a special friendship with fringe benefits.”
Micah rolled his eyes upward while slapping his forehead. “Yup. How could I forget that?”
What he wanted to tell Tessa was where she could stick her so-called special-friendship-with-the-fringe-benefits gobbledygook. What he felt for her went beyond friendship, and sleeping together was hardly a fringe benefit. Her sharing her body with him was an honor, a privilege.
“Tessa? Is that you?”
Her head came up, and Tessa saw her sister and ex-brother-in-law standing several feet away. Pushing back her chair, she came to her feet, hugging Simone at the same time Micah stood up. “What are you doing here?”
“I had an appointment in Crown Heights, so I called Tony and told him to meet me here.”
Tessa didn’t want to get into it with Simone about sharing dinner with Tony, because there was no doubt she would end up sharing his bed, too. Forcing a facetious smile, she extended her hand to Anthony Kendrick. “It’s nice seeing you again.”
Tony ignored her hand, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “How long has it been?”
She wanted to tell him not long enough but didn’t want to hurt her sister, who appeared unable to keep away from a man who’d disappointed her over and over.
“It has been a while.” She saw Simone staring at Micah. “This is Micah Sanborn, Bridget Sanborn’s brother. Micah, this is my sister Simone and my brother-in-law Anthony Kendrick.”
As much as she disliked the man, she didn’t want to embarrass him by introducing him as an ex. Other than his Billy Dee Williams good looks, she never knew what Simone saw in him. An only child of a well-to-do widowed mother, he’d been spoiled. He’d earned a college degree yet always complained about not finding the right position for his intelligence. He’d changed jobs so often that Tessa lost count of where and whom he’d worked for. Once Simone divorced him, he moved back home with his mother, who gave him a monthly allowance whenever he was unemployed.
Micah shook Tony’s hand, then nodded to Simone. “It’s nice meeting you.”
Simone’s hazel eyes shimmered like precious gems. “I’m really looking forward to doing the floral decorations for your sister’s wedding. Do you guys mind if Tony and I join you?”
Long Time Coming Page 15
