by Candis Terry
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he said.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
He smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She tucked her hand beneath her chin on top of his chest. “I like having you around.”
“Does that mean I can be around more?”
“As much as you want.” She slipped her hand between them and wrapped her fingers around his already growing erection. “Naughty Fiona likes having you around too.”
He chuckled. “Okay, but just make sure she doesn’t take advantage of me. I do have my . . .” She tightened her grip on his erection, and he moaned. “Sensitivities.”
“You mean like this?” She pressed her thumb at the base of his cock and rotated it in a slow circle.
“Yep. That’ll do it.”
Before she could blink, he flipped her onto her back and slid between her legs. He kissed her and brushed her hair off her forehead. “I meant what I said last night.”
“You said a lot last night,” she said. “You also moaned really loud and used some very interesting four-letter words.”
“Unique cusswords are a firefighting requirement. I’m talking about when I told you I was crazy about you.” His dark eyes grew serious and he kissed her again. “Out-of-my-fucking-mind crazy.”
That made two of them.
And then he proceeded to show her just how crazy they could get.
As far as Sundays went, Fiona knew she’d have to mark this one down as fabulous. Waking up next to Mike had not only been a new experience, it had been soul-shaking. They’d taken their time making love, talking about everything from favorite sports teams to foods they’d rather never eat again unless held at knifepoint. She’d made him a vow that she’d never create a brussels sprouts cupcake. He in turn vowed never to let her go within a thousand feet of liver and onions.
After a long, hot shower accented by kisses and caresses, they dressed and picked up Izzy from Annie’s house. Apparently, Mike didn’t mind doing the walk of shame in the clothes he’d worn to the wedding. Which made her wonder if it was too early to suggest he might want to bring an extra set of clothes and–heaven forbid–a toothbrush to her house.
With stomachs grumbling from excessive exercise and a lack of food, they all went to Bud’s Diner for a really late breakfast. Izzy inhaled her Mickey Mouse pancake while she chatted with Mike about baby Max. No one was more surprised or speechless than Fiona when Izzy announced that someday she’d like a baby sister. Not a brother. Because baby boys peed in the air when you changed their diapers, and they laughed when they farted.
While Fiona blushed thirty shades of red, Mike laughed.
If she ever had another child, Fiona wanted to be sure there would be a permanent, full-time husband/daddy attached so he could balance half the guilt she suffered every time she had to tell her child no.
After breakfast, they all went to the Town Square park, even Biscuit, who discovered that not only did other dogs exist, they were questionable characters that should be barked at loudly and often. All while backing up in the opposite direction.
Together, she and Mike pushed Izzy on the swing and helped her climb the monkey bars. When exhaustion made Izzy’s eyes droop, Mike bought them all an ice-cream cone, then chuckled when Izzy passed out in her car seat on the way home.
As they pulled into the driveway, Mike took Fiona’s hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “This was the best Sunday I’ve had in a very long time,” he said. “Thank you.”
“The ideas were all yours. I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes you did. You made me feel like a part of your family.” He leaned across the seat, cupped her cheek in his hand, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Being with you and Izzy today gave me real hope for the first time in a long time.”
“I’m so glad. And the feeling is mutual.”
He smiled, kissed her fingers again, then carried her sleeping daughter inside the house and tucked her in bed.
Fiona stood in the doorway, watching the tender moment as Mike settled the butterfly blanket around Izzy’s shoulders. She’d never imagined a man could have such affection, patience, and understanding for another man’s child. Mike could be the one to prove it not only could happen, it did happen.
When he leaned down, brushed a blond curl off Izzy’s forehead and placed a kiss there, Fiona knew her entire world had just changed.
Mike was more than just a hot fireman with a great body, a warm smile, and a generous heart.
He was the one.
Chapter 20
By midweek, Fiona’s feet were dragging. Exhaustion consumed her as she tried to concentrate on the ten dozen PB&J cupcakes special-ordered for an assembly at the Baptist church. On top of the regular eight daily flavors she’d had to bake for the shop, Izzy’s inability to sleep because of a tummy ache from eating too much popcorn while watching Frozen for the umpteen hundredth time, and Biscuit’s newfound talent of coyote yipping¸ she’d been up all night. On top of all the chaos, Fiona had grabbed a new romance novel from the checkout stand at the Touch and Go Market and hadn’t been able to put it down until the wee hours.
There were bags so dark under her eyes that concealer wouldn’t help, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d even showered this morning. Then there was the nutritional dilemma of forgetting to eat breakfast or lunch–again–because she hadn’t had time.
She needed help.
Or a padded cell.
Just when she thought her little world couldn’t get any crazier, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the name and for the first time all day—with the exception of the one she reserved for customers—she smiled.
She lifted the phone. “I was just thinking about you.”
“That makes my day a little better,” Mike said.
She tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could continue to frost the cupcakes while they talked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m wrapping up a construction job near your shop. Do you have a few minutes to spare?”
The dark tone in his voice signaled something was wrong. Despite the heat in the kitchen, a chill ran down her back. “I’ve always got time for you.”
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes.” Abruptly, the call disconnected, and the chill down her back speared into her heart.
Ten minutes had never seemed so long and torturous. While she waited for Mike to arrive, she shoved another batch of cupcakes in the oven and tried not to stare at the seemingly unmoving timer.
By the time he walked through her back door, she was twisting her hands with worry. One look at the exhaustion slumping his broad shoulders was all it took to verify she’d been right to be concerned.
Without a word, he walked in and pulled her into his arms. For a long moment, he just held her. The hard thump of his heart against her chest did the talking for him. When he pulled away, she noticed the worry lines that creased the corners of his eyes and around his mouth.
“Mike, please tell me what’s wrong. Is it your sister again?”
“I wish it were as simple as that.” A hard sigh pushed from his lungs. “I have to leave for California tonight on the last flight out.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“To be honest?” He shrugged. “This time even I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t feel like you have to, but if you want to share . . .” She touched her fingers to his chest and felt his heart pound beneath her fingers. “I’m here to listen.”
“I could use a cup of really strong coffee if you have one.”
“You bet. I’ll just be a minute.”
As she turned, he caught her by the hand and pulled her back into his arms. He lowered his head and spoke against her lips. “I need this first.” And then he kissed her. In that passionate meshing of lips, she tasted his desperation. And though she didn’t know the issue at hand, her heart simply broke.
The stoneware cup rattled on the saucer as she carried his coff
ee to the prep table, where he’d pulled up a stool and currently sat with his head between his hands. When she set it down in front of him, his head came up with a miserable attempt at a smile on his lips.
“Mike? You don’t have to try to put on a good face for me. I’m here for you, good, bad, or ugly. Okay?”
He nodded, then sipped the steaming coffee without a flinch when she knew it must have burned his tongue. He set the cup back down and speared his long fingers through his hair.
“Where to start?” he said.
Curling her fingers around his arm, she brought his hand down from where it had lodged in the thickness of his hair. “How about at the beginning?”
“How about in order of crisis?”
“That’s as good a place as any.”
He took a breath. “I just found out that my Avó developed pneumonia that resulted in congestive heart failure.”
“Oh, Mike.” She squeezed his arm. “Is she . . .”
“She’s alive, but barely. The doctor I spoke to said she needs a surgery that could save her life.”
“That’s good.”
“She refuses to have the surgery because she doesn’t want to put the family in financial distress.”
“Oh. That’s bad.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic twist. “It gets worse. Remember I told you my mother drank heavily?”
She nodded past her rapidly sinking heart.
“Apparently, she couldn’t handle the news about my grandmother–not that she can ever handle news of any kind that isn’t glamorized by television reality shows–and she tried to drink herself to death. She’s in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Tests revealed she has advanced cirrhosis of the liver.”
Fiona’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God!”
“Wait.” He took her hand and held it in his lap. “The good times don’t stop there. Celina is in jail–again. And Estella, who’s married with four kids, just left her husband because he can’t find work, and she thinks he’s just being lazy.” He barked a cynical laugh. “I thought things were supposed to happen in threes, not fours.”
Speechless, Fiona could only wrap her arms around him and hold on. He rested his head against hers, and, for a heartbeat, they sat there together, not saying a word. He broke the silence with a devastating question that clearly defined his dilemma.
“For the first time, I don’t know what to do. Who do I choose to take care of first?”
The impossible question was unanswerable.
“My mother gave up–on her life, her children, anything that should have mattered, she turned her back on,” he said. “I can understand the devastation of losing my father and my sister. I lost them too. And though for a while I might have drowned my troubles in a bottle, I at least tried to be there as much as possible.”
The bitter edge to his tone was something new. A different side of him that gave Fiona just a hint of what he’d really been through in his life. In that moment, the tightening of her gut indicated she finally understood why he’d believed he’d let people down. He hadn’t been able to rescue his father, his sister, or his mother. He hadn’t been able to be the husband to Heather he’d wanted to be. And he couldn’t save his sisters from making bad decisions.
No wonder he’d tried to lock down his heart.
“On the other hand, my Avó was always there,” he said. “She’s the one who nursed me back to health when I was sick. She’s the one who encouraged me to stay in school. She was our caretaker, our mentor, the one person who was always there when the rest of the world turned its back.”
He paused, sipped the coffee, then stared out the door that led to the front of the shop, which luckily, was currently void of customers.
“I’ve tried to convince her that I’d handle the financial side of her health problems, and she didn’t need to worry. But she’s refused. And her refusal means . . . certain death.”
“I wish I had a magical solution,” she said. “I wish I could snap my fingers and make everything better.”
“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “And that’s why it’s so hard for me to sit here and tell you that I have to leave. And that I have no idea when I’ll be coming back. Or even if I’ll be coming back.”
“What?” Please tell her she hadn’t heard him right.
“I don’t know.” He sat back and shook his head. “There’s just too much going on, and someone has to be there permanently to deal with all these issues. I’ve asked Cap for a leave of absence to go and try to figure things out.”
Part of Fiona cried out at the unfairness. How dare fate drop this amazing man into her life only to rip him away? But unlike her mother, selfishness had never been a part of her DNA. She couldn’t and wouldn’t add to his problems by making him feel bad that he had to leave. She couldn’t believe that this could possibly be the end of the road for them.
At the same time, she couldn’t let him go without letting him know how she felt.
She framed his face in her hands, smoothed her fingers across the web of worry crumpling his forehead. And spoke firmly so he wouldn’t hear the breaking of her heart. Her eyes, unfortunately, did not submit to her determination, and a wash of moisture clung to her bottom lashes.
“I understand,” she said. “It’s what you do. You take care of people–your family, the homeless, even little girls who’d just gone through a fight for their life. You’re an admirable man with a big heart. I love that about you. If things were different, I’d pack my bags and go with you right now. But I’ve worked hard to build a life here. And I have to put Izzy first. Everything she knows and loves is here. I could never take her away from Jackson or the Wilders, and I could never leave her behind.”
“I’d never ask you to give anything up for me. Especially not Izzy.”
“I know.” She took a breath to release the breath-stealing grip that sorrow held on her heart. “I’m in love with you, Mike. And I’d willingly give you everything if it were in my power to do so. But all I can really give you is my heart and my prayers.”
His eyes widened at her sudden revelation, but he didn’t back away. He also didn’t say “I love you” in return.
“Go with a clear conscience,” she said, somehow managing to keep the tears from her words. She had to be strong. Not for herself. For him. “Be with your family. Do the right thing, whatever that might be. I know you’ll figure it out. Just know that I’m here if you need me. Okay?”
He gave her a nod. Without further response, he stood, looked at her a moment, then pulled her into his arms. He held her close for a long time. The whole time she fought back the sob stuck deep in her heart.
When he finally eased away, he looked down into her face, touched her cheek with gentle fingers, and kissed her soft and sweet one more time.
And then he was gone.
She stood by the door and watched him drive away.
Then, and only then, did she let herself cry.
Chapter 21
Two weeks passed without a word.
Each day, Fiona was consumed with thoughts and worry about Mike. She worried about his grandmother, his mother, and his sisters. She worried about how he was handling everything. And she worried about how his wonderful heart was holding up when his beloved grandmother’s heart was failing.
Or had it already failed?
Determined to believe no news was good news, Fiona did her best to go on about her day. It wasn’t fair to worry Izzy or the rest of the family, so she put on a happy face and tried to behave like all was well. She’d even been able to fool Sabrina. Alone at night was the only time she’d allow her aching heart to weep.
She missed him.
Terribly.
Those moments when she was tempted to give up hope, when she realized that she might never see him again, were the hardest to handle. He’d come into her life in such a big way that it was impossible not to miss his smile, his laugh, and the way those sinfully dark eyes would
peruse her body just before he’d pull her into his arms and kiss the living daylights out of her.
She’d wanted forever, but she wouldn’t trade a minute of the time they’d spent together. No matter how brief it had been. Whatever happened, she’d been given some wonderful memories to hold on to.
Now she knew what it felt like to be blissfully in love.
She just never expected it to hurt so much.
Another Saturday morning arrived with the promise of a sweltering Texas day. After a sleepless night–thanks to the two extra squirming little bodies that had somehow ended up in her bed—Fiona dragged herself into the shower.
After she’d dropped Izzy off at day care, her morning started off with a bang. She’d finally decided to take Mike’s advice and encouragement, and she put her breakfast cupcakes on the menu. Bertha Bickford from the Twice Told Tales used-book store came in hoping Fiona had peanut butter banana cupcakes in the display case. Once Bertha smelled the bacon, she changed her mind and walked out with two breakfast cupcakes. Then she proceeded to tell the rest of the shop owners via the soup-can hotline about Fiona’s new creation. Within twenty minutes, the entire two dozen were history.
Lunchtime had been unusually busy thanks to a big sale going on at Sassy Snaps Boutique. By midafternoon, those who sought a cupcake-induced sugar fix had dwindled to a trickle. Fiona had been glad for all the business to come through her door, not only for the revenue, but also for the brief intermission they offered to the thoughts in her head.
During a late-afternoon lull, she had way too much time to think and worry. If only he’d call and tell her what was going on and how he was doing, she’d feel better. But since over two weeks had passed without a word, that didn’t seem likely to happen.
She needed a deterrent from her self-induced misery.
Besides being with Izzy, only one thing ever quickly lifted her spirits.
Secondhand-store shopping.
Because she couldn’t leave the shop, she had to find another solution. She grabbed her laptop and set it out on the prep table. Then she went to the one Web site that never failed to make her ooh and aah.
