This Time

by Kristin Leigh

  LT came to a stop at a red light, looked over at him, down at his leg, and back up to meet his eyes. Mike felt his face heat and jerked his gaze away. Fury burned through his veins, and Mike stared out the window, his jaw clenched. When the truck started moving again, Mike ground out, “Don’t pity me, sir.”

  This man had been his superior officer first and his friend second. He’d saved Mike’s ass on more than one occasion, and Mike had saved his a time or two. Despite that, he couldn’t tolerate pity from anyone, especially Lt. Paulson.

  Mike knew the others on his team were going to pity him. They were going to shake their heads and mutter “what a shame” when he wasn’t around. And that pissed Mike off. But as long as he didn’t have to see it, he could handle it.

  “There’s a difference between pity and empathy. I don’t pity you. I empathize. Figure out the difference.” LT swung into a cellular store and parked. He got out of his truck and slammed the door without another word.

  Mike expected the LT to walk around to help him out of the ridiculously high truck. When LT just ignored him and began to walk inside, Mike smiled to himself. Tough old bastard. Even though Mike wasn’t much younger than the LT, he still considered him a tough old bastard and always would.

  Chapter 20

  Mike had been home for three days before he called. Tara supposed he’d waited until Friday afternoon so she wouldn’t have school for a couple of days. The call had been brief. She’d given him directions to her house, and he’d promised to be there around five thirty.

  Tara stood in her kitchen, staring into the freezer, wondering what to make for dinner. She didn’t like to order out often, but she had to feed Mike something. Spotting a package of beef, she pried it out and decided to make beef stew. It was a good, wholesome meal, and even Maddie—picky eater that she was—enjoyed it as long as Tara remembered to call it steak soup.

  Tara’s heart skipped a beat. Maddie. She had to tell Maddie that Mike was her father. Was this the time to tell her? Before or after dinner? How did one go about telling a child who had never known her father that he was coming for dinner? Tara dropped the package of beef into the sink and turned on the water to help it thaw quickly. She stood staring out the window, her emotions and thoughts a riotous mix.

  Tell her or wait? Let Mike tell her? Tara didn’t know. She didn’t even know who to call for advice. This was so far outside of anything that anyone she knew had ever dealt with. Google it maybe? What the hell would she even search for? Tara rubbed her temples, trying to dispel the headache that was forming there.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?” Madelynn’s tiny voice popped up behind her, and Tara jumped, startled.

  Madelynn giggled. “Sorry, Mommy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Tara forced a tight smile. “It’s okay, honey.” She closed her eyes for a moment before deciding to follow her track record and jump in feet first. “Let’s go sit down, Maddie. I have to talk to you about something.”

  Maddie cocked her head to one side before saying, “Okay.” She darted into the living room to jump on the couch.

  Instead of chiding her for jumping on the furniture, Tara sat down and pulled Madelynn into her lap.

  “Maddie,” she began but stopped when her eyes grew hot with tears. She took a shaky breath and started over. “Sweetheart, do you remember when you asked why some of your friends have a daddy and you don’t?” When Madelynn nodded, eyes wide, Tara continued. “Well, you do have a daddy. And he loves you very much.” Her voice broke on the last words as a wide grin spread across Madelynn’s face and her little body vibrated with excitement.

  “I have a daddy?” Madelynn squealed and grinned in excitement, bouncing on Tara’s lap.

  Tara tightened her arms to keep Madelynn still and said, “Yes, you do. And he’s coming to have dinner with us tonight.” Unable to hold onto her any longer, Tara let Madelynn go and watched as she bounded around the living room singing, “I have a daddy, I have a daddy.”

  Madelynn stopped, mid-chant, and said in a frantic voice, “Mommy, I need to put on a dress so I can be pretty when my daddy gets here!”

  Tara smiled through her tears and said, “Okay, let’s go find a really, really pretty one!”

  Madelynn chose a little blue dress that tied in a bow in the back, and Tara braided her hair with matching blue ribbons. Madelynn danced continuously while Tara cut up carrots and potatoes and started the beef stew. Maddie never stopped moving, her excitement almost more than she could bear. Tara kept a hand pressed against the knot of anxiety in her stomach.

  When she heard a car pull up outside, Madelynn ran to the door. Tara took a deep, fortifying breath and followed.

  “Michael!” she heard Madelynn screech from the front door. Tara stood behind her daughter and watched as Mike used a cane to make his way up the porch steps. “Guess who’s coming for dinner, Michael!”

  Mike grinned at Maddie, but before he could ask who, she screeched at him, “My daddy!”

  Mike’s grin faded, and he jerked his gaze to Tara’s. The naked longing in his eyes sent a bolt of relief through her so powerful Tara had to lean against the door for support. He wasn’t upset. She’d known he wanted to tell Madelynn, but until she saw that expression, doubt had eaten at her.

  “Why don’t we go inside, kiddo, and sit down for a minute?” Mike made his way across the porch and pressed a kiss to Tara’s forehead before murmuring, “Let me. Please.”

  Tara nodded and stood back to allow them both to go inside. She closed the door and took a deep breath before gesturing to the kitchen and saying, “I’m going to go work on dinner. You two sit and talk for a while.” She left the room to let Mike do what he’d wanted to for a long time.

  * * * *

  Mike propped his cane by the door and sat down on Tara’s couch. He looked around. Her house was small but comfortable and neat. Maddie crawled into his lap before he’d had a chance to notice any more than that and placed a loud, wet kiss against his cheek.

  “Are you better now, Michael?” Madelynn watched him with her head tilted to one side and a curious glint in her bright, green eyes.

  Mike cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, kiddo. I’m a lot better.”

  Madelynn nodded seriously and said, “I’m glad.” She started bouncing then and said, “’Cause my daddy’s coming!”

  Mike laughed and tried to hold her still. “Maddie, listen. Sit still and listen for a second, okay?”

  Maddie tried to sit still, but she still trembled with suppressed excitement. Mike pulled her close in a hug and kissed the top of her head. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. His voice trembled as he whispered, “I’m your daddy, sweetheart. And I am so, so sorry that I haven’t been here. But I’m here now. And I promise that I will never, ever leave again.” Tears burned his eyes, and Mike held his breath, waiting.

  Madelynn pulled away and watched him thoughtfully. Mike blinked back the moisture in his eyes as he awaited the most important judgment of his entire life. Madelynn brushed her tiny hands against his cheeks, and Mike realized he’d lost the battle with tears. She whispered, “Don’t cry. It’s okay.” Madelynn hugged him then, her tiny arms squeezing around his neck, and Mike closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, cookie-candy scent of his little girl. “I’m glad you’re my daddy.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, and she confessed, “I hoped you were.”

  A sob escaped Mike’s throat, and he clenched Madelynn tighter to him. His heart beat hard against his chest, and Mike knew in that moment that it had never really beat before.

  Chapter 21

  Madelynn didn’t go to bed until nearly eleven o’clock. It didn’t take her long to figure out her daddy couldn’t tell her “no” to anything. So after three glasses of milk with Oreo cookies and four bedtime stories, she finally fell asleep on Mike’s lap. When Mike tried to stand to carry her to bed, Tara moved to help him. He waved her away, though, and Tara watched as he slowly and carefully made his way to Ma
delynn’s room. She followed him, watching from the door as he kissed Madelynn good night, whispered, “I love you,” and covered her with blankets before turning out the light.

  When Mike emerged and closed the door, Tara remained silent, waiting for him to speak, unsure of where they stood.

  “Thank you, Tara.” His voice was husky and deep, and he looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. “I didn’t expect…” He trailed off and rubbed his eyes.

  “I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I thought…” Tara stopped, searching for the words.

  “It’s okay.” Mike looked back at her with a slight smile. “I’m glad you did.” He moved toward her then, and her heart leaped in her chest before beating harder, faster. “Now the only thing left is us. What are we gonna do, Tara?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. Michael, I—”

  “Mike,” he interrupted, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her toward him.

  “Mike.” Tara breathed deeply and placed her hands on his chest as Mike pulled her body flush against his. He was so warm, so hard. So much what she’d needed for so long. She stared at her hands where they rested.

  “Tara, look at me.”

  Tara looked up just as his head lowered. She met his eyes for only a split-second before they slid closed and Mike’s lips crushed hers. His tongue prodded and then slid into her mouth in soft, sure strokes.

  “Your bedroom?” Mike muttered against her mouth.

  Tara moaned in response and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Tara, where’s your bedroom?” His voice was urgent now, and she bit at his lower lip.

  “We can’t do this in the hallway, Tara. Where’s your fucking bedroom?”

  Tara pulled away as reality intruded. She blinked for a moment and then said, “Other side of the living room. Down that hall.”

  Mike walked her backward a few steps and then spun her around and pushed her in that direction.

  When they reached her bedroom, he closed the door behind him and said, “Do I need to lock it?”

  Tara shook her head. Maddie was a deep sleeper and wouldn’t wake up until morning. Mike locked it anyway. Tara swallowed, her nerves kicking in all of a sudden.

  She moved to the other side of the neatly made bed, and he stalked her, his eyes intent.

  “Mike, I…”

  Tara didn’t finish, cut off when he moved swiftly in front of her and pushed her onto the bed. Her breath left her in a soft sigh. Mike remained silent as he pulled her shoes off and then unsnapped her jeans and pulled them down her legs.

  “Your shirt,” he whispered.

  Tara sat up and complied, pulled her blouse over her head, and unsnapped her bra. When her shirt cleared her head, she saw Mike tearing his own top off. She got a glimpse of hair-dusted underarms before her gaze was drawn to his powerful chest. Tara licked her lips. Yummy.

  Mike sat down next to her and pulled his jeans off before fumbling with the mechanism of the prosthesis. Tara still couldn’t see the flesh as it was covered with what looked like a giant sock. He didn’t take it off. She made a mental note to work on that. He was too self-conscious about it.

  As Mike leaned forward to prop the prosthesis against her nightstand, Tara trailed her fingers down his back. He shivered and jerked his eyes to hers. He turned to her and pushed her onto her back before dragging her up the bed.

  “Touch me,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Tara complied, trailing her hands across his broad shoulders and down his chest and abdomen before stopping at the waist of his boxers. She retraced her path, loving the play of hard muscles tensing beneath her fingertips.

  “I belong to you.” Mike whispered, his voice barely audible.

  Her eyes flew to his, and Tara opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find words that fit the gravity of the moment.

  “Do whatever you want with me. But understand that until the day I die, I belong to you. I always have.”

  Tara felt tears slide down her temple and into her hair. She slid her fingers into his hair and pulled him to her. Mike took over then, touching and kissing her until she gripped the sheets in frustration. His tongue circled her nipples, never touching the aching tips. His fingers stroked against the lips of her sex, never sliding inside.

  Tara felt his erection brush against her time and again. When it became too much to bear, she slid her hand inside the waistband of his boxers and grasped his swollen penis. Mike groaned against her lips.

  Tara stroked him slowly, drawing forth a bead of moisture from his straining member. She caressed the slit at the top, spreading precum around the flared head. Mike buried his face in her neck and said, “I wanted to make this last. Make it special.”

  She squeezed him again, pulling her hand up the entire length before saying, “It is special, Mike. And so good. If you’d just finish it…”

  Mike kissed her, a quick, hard press of his lips to hers, and bit her lower lip before rolling over to yank his boxers off. He turned onto his side and watched her, trailing his fingers from her collarbone to hip. His touch was light, leaving tingles everywhere he touched. Tara shivered, and that seemed to jolt him into action.

  Mike jerked her legs apart and slid between them, positioning himself at her entrance. His eyes met hers and held as he pushed himself inside with a deep groan.

  Her hips arched involuntarily, and Tara clawed at his back. She felt so full, so stretched, it was nearly painful.

  Mike ground against her, fully embedded but not thrusting, circling his hips to put pressure on her clit. Tara clenched around him as he finally slid out, trying to hold him inside of her.

  She looked up at his face, the set of his jaw, the sweat beading his upper lip and forehead. Mike’s brow was furrowed in concentration, his eyes narrowed against the pleasure he was taking in her body.

  “Mike,” she whispered brokenly, needing to tell him before another second passed.

  He didn’t answer, just kissed her deeply. When he pulled away and met her eyes, she whispered, “I love you.”

  His eyes widened, and she actually felt him jerk inside of her before he sped up his thrusts.

  “Tara,” he groaned and tucked his arms beneath hers to cradle her head in his hands. He kissed her again, his tongue thrusting in time with his hips.

  Tara’s feet dug into his thighs, pulling him harder, faster against her. The swirling tension suddenly became unbearable, and she cried out as wave after wave of ecstasy consumed her.

  Not long after her own orgasm ceased, Mike tensed and slowed as he followed her into oblivion.

  *

  Mike breathed heavily against Tara’s neck, his body limp on hers. He tried to rise on his elbows to take some of his weight off of her. His arms shook, and he collapsed against her, unable to hold his own bulk.

  “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. Mike rolled off of her, the wet sound of their parting bodies loud in the otherwise quiet room. He tugged Tara into his arms and kissed her temple. She snuggled against him, nuzzling his chest with her cheek. Mike closed his eyes, feeling closer to heaven than he ever had in his entire, miserable, hell-bound life.

  “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice breaking on the words.

  Tara sniffed, and he looked down to see if she was crying. She turned her head to hide from him, but he felt the answer in the warm tears slipping onto his chest.

  “What now?” she asked. Her breath stirred the hair on his chest, tickling him. He rubbed the spot and sighed.

  “I don’t know. I guess we pick up where we left off.” Mike lifted his head and looked down at her. “We’ll figure it out. As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine.”

  “Promise you won’t go all macho-man asshole crazy on me again?” Tara tweaked his nipple playfully.

  “Ow!” he exclaimed in mock pain. “Not this time.” Mike kissed her temple again and pulled her closer. This was where he was meant to be, where he should have been, where he’d wan
ted to be for so long. “I promise.”

  Epilogue

  May

  Mike flinched as Lt. Paulson clapped him on the back.

  “Ready, Davis?” LT kept his hand on Mike’s shoulder and squeezed.

  Mike gulped. “I think so, sir.” Hell no, he wasn’t ready. He was terrified. This whole stupid idea had been dreamed up by Lt. Paulson’s fiancée and her friends. Mike knew they were friends with Tara and probably had some insight as to her deepest desires but…damn. Knowing she would love it didn’t make it any better.

  Mike straightened his tie and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  “Remember, everyone’s watching. If you fuck up, we’re never going to let you live it down. You will be mocked mercilessly.”

  Mike stared at the LT incredulously. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because frankly, sir, that’s the worst damn pep talk I’ve ever gotten.”

  Lt. Paulson grinned, and Mike just stared at him. “Just a little revenge.” Mike frowned at him in confusion. Revenge for what?

  The LT clapped Mike on the shoulder again and leaned closer. In a loud whisper, he reiterated, “Don’t fuck up.” With a morbid laugh, Lt. Paulson left.

  Mike cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

  * * * *

  Tara watched as Chris, Callie’s fiancé, returned to the table and sat down. He met her eyes and winked. She gave him a small smile. He was too intimidating for anything more than that. When she realized he’d returned alone, Tara frowned. “Where’s Mike?”

  “Still in the bathroom.” Chris leaned over and whispered something to Callie and then pecked her on the lips and shushed her when she giggled.

  Tara watched them in amusement. They were constantly touching and kissing, finding little ways to display their affection. It was sickening and cute at the same time.