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Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set

Page 25

by Julie Ortolon

“Depends. Where’s this crib of yours?”

  “Over there.”

  “Where?” Mike peered into the darkness, barely making out the shape of a table saw and various other woodworking equipment.

  “Against that far wall,” Jim finally said, apparently realizing that hand gestures didn’t mean spit in the dark.

  “What’s on the wall behind it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Perfect.” Mike smiled. “A nice flat surface is just what we need. Only, let’s clear some of this stuff out of the way and put the crib in the middle of the room.”

  “What for?” Jim asked.

  “Staging, man. You got to have staging.”

  “Oh, right.”

  They set to work, moving equipment out of the way as quickly and quietly as possible. When Mike was satisfied, he led Jim back over to the projector. “I’ve got the film already cued, so when I give the signal, all you have to do is punch this button.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.” Mike grabbed the end of the extension cord Jim had already plugged in. “Now I’ll go outside and man the other projector.”

  “Wait. What’s your signal?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He thought for a moment. “When Linda comes out to see what all the ruckus is about, hopefully she’ll come in this direction, rather than toward me. When she gets close enough to hear you in here, I’ll cut off my projector, you’ll hit yours, and she’ll come the rest of the way inside. From there, you’re on your own.”

  “Right. On my own.” Jim blew out a nervous breath. “What happens if she doesn’t come this way?”

  “Don’t worry,” Mike insisted. “It’ll work.”

  “God, I hope so,” Jim muttered as Mike headed toward the door. “Hey, Mike,” he called, then hesitated when Mike turned back. “Thanks, man.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Mike nodded, then dashed back across the moonlit clearing to where he’d left the other projector under the yaupon bushes. After plugging it in, he said a little prayer on Jim’s behalf and punched it on.

  Chapter 23

  *

  A BLAST OF music and colored light filled the living room window.

  “What in the world?” Kate said as she and Linda exchanged startled looks. Together they raced to the window and stared out in disbelief. A cartoon lit the side of the workshop, like an old-fashioned drive-in movie. Forest creatures danced about, singing cheerfully about springtime. Birds swirled and bees buzzed as apple blossoms floated through animated trees like snowflakes.

  Dylan ran out of the spare bedroom wearing the pajamas he kept at Linda’s. “Mom, do you see it? Do you see it?”

  “I’m looking at it now,” Kate answered. “I just don’t know what ‘it’ is.”

  “It’s a cartoon!” His eyes went wide as he joined them at the window. “Can we go outside and watch?”

  Kate glanced at Linda and found her friend holding both hands over her mouth. Blinking madly, Linda turned to her and lowered her hands to reveal a big smile. “Jim.”

  “Jim?” Kate repeated skeptically. “Are you sure?”

  “No. But I plan to find out.” Linda headed for the door.

  “Wait a second,” Kate called. “Don’t you think we should make sure before we go charging out there?”

  Ignoring her, Linda bolted out the door with Dylan right behind her. Kate quickly followed them into the cool night air. The happy sound of animated creatures celebrating spring assaulted her ears. Dylan moved toward it, mesmerized by the colorful display while Linda looked about, searching for the source, which seemed to be the stand of trees that shielded the cabin from the main house.

  “Jim?” Linda called, moving in that direction.

  The screen went blank, throwing the area into darkness. Linda turned in the direction from which the movie had come, peering into the underbrush.

  “Linda,” Kate said as she grabbed Dylan’s hand, “I’m not sure we should be out here.”

  The sound and lights resumed, this time from inside the workshop. Linda turned and moved toward it, through the door, leaving Kate the option of following or retreating to the safety of the house.

  “Come on, Mom.” Dylan tugged at her hand, dragging her forward.

  With a sigh, she gave in. The moment she stepped over the threshold, her heart melted. There stood Jim, covered in the colored light of another cartoon. Haloing his silhouette on the wall behind him, animated birds sang a sweet lullaby to a baby nestled in the bough of a tree. Jim’s face looked haggard as his eyes pleaded with Linda.

  “I know you think I don’t want this baby,” he said just over the sound of the soft music. “But nothing could be further from the truth. I want that little fella you’re carrying more than anything. Except for you. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you, Linda. So, you have to promise me here and now that you’ll stick around long enough for both of us to get plenty of use out of this.” He nodded toward a crib with an intricately carved headboard and hand-turned rails.

  Linda walked toward it as if in a daze. “This is what you’ve been working on all this time? A baby crib? But… why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s not finished yet.”

  “I don’t care. Oh, honey, it’s wonderful.” She ran a finger over the delicate carvings. “I love it.” She lifted smiling eyes toward her husband. “Nearly as much as I love you.”

  Kate’s eyes misted as Linda threw her arms around her husband and kissed his cheek. Jim, to her surprise, turned his head enough to bring them lip to lip, something she hadn’t seen him do in weeks. As the kiss deepened, she took her son by the hand. “Come on, Dylan. Show’s over.”

  “No it isn’t.” Dylan strained to see the cartoon on the back wall. “It’s still going. See?”

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to finish watching that show another time.”

  “Ah, Mom!” His feet dragged as he followed her outside, where they nearly ran right into Mike.

  “Oh!” Kate’s heart jumped into her throat. “Mike! What are you doing here?”

  “Directing,” he said as he glanced toward the open door of the workshop. “Did it work?”

  “You?” As her stomach fluttered madly at the sight of him, Kate looked toward the workshop and back again. “You’re behind this?”

  “That depends.” He grinned broadly. “If it worked, it was all my idea. If it didn’t, I’m blaming Jim.”

  “Oh, Mike…” Something inside her turn soft as she studied him in the faint light from the moon. “I don’t know what to say, other than thank you for helping Jim and Linda. That was really sweet, and very needed.”

  “So, it worked?” he asked.

  “Beautifully.” As she smiled at him, a big difference between Mike and Edward sank in. Mike might work too much and have no clue about how much time a marriage required, but he wasn’t selfish. Even the night he’d broken his promise and turned on his phone, he’d done it out of concern for other people on the team. “I guess I should have known you were in on it.”

  “Who else would have the equipment to pull something like this off?” he said. “Not to mention a whole cabinet of cartoon reels.”

  “True.”

  “You have cartoons?” Dylan asked, excited by the idea.

  “About a gazillion,” Mike confirmed. “The two I brought tonight are ones I actually worked on.”

  “You drew those?” Dylan looked at Mike as if he were an action hero.

  “Nah,” Mike said. “I just did some cell painting back when I was young enough and foolish enough to work for slave wages.”

  “What’s cell painting?” Dylan made a face at the unfamiliar term.

  “Well, I tell you what.” Mike squatted down to get eye level with the boy. “I’ll explain all about how cartoons are made on one condition.”

  “What?” Dylan asked eagerly.

  “That your mother gets me a couple aspirin and a glass of water.” He looked up at Kate with a sheepish smile. “My hea
d is killing me.”

  She sighed, wondering how he always slipped past her defenses so easily. “Come on, you two.” She swung her barefooted son onto her hip. “We might as well go down to the cabin, since I don’t think Linda and Jim are interested in company right now.”

  “Let me get my projector.” Mike disappeared into the trees and emerged with a heavy-looking piece of equipment.

  As they made their way down the hill, she looked back in time to see Jim and Linda walking arm in arm toward the house. An odd blend of happiness and envy settled over her.

  By the time they reached the cabin, Dylan had his head on her shoulder, practically asleep. She moved carefully to turn on a lamp in the living area, filling the small space with warm light. “Just give me a minute to put him to bed,” she whispered to Mike. “Then I’ll hunt down some aspirin.”

  “Wait.” Her son lifted his head and scrubbed his eyes. “Mike was gonna tell me how cartoons are made.”

  “Perhaps some other time,” she suggested. “Right now, it’s the middle of the night, and little boys should be in bed.”

  “Ah, Mom.”

  Mike came forward. “Why don’t you let me put him to bed? I’ll tell him all about my wild-and-woolly days as a cell painter in lieu of a bedtime story.”

  Her protective instincts stirred at the offer, and she hesitated. Despite all of Mike’s good qualities, the threat he posed to Dylan hadn’t changed.

  “Please, Mom?” Dylan begged.

  Once again, she felt trapped between playing the bad guy to keep him safe and putting him at risk of a bigger disappointment in the future. As his eyes pleaded with her, she didn’t have the heart to say no. For tonight, at this point, refusal would only hurt both Mike and Dylan, when she didn’t want to hurt either one. “All right.” She looked at Mike. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.” Mike set his projector down, and presented his back. “Come on, buddy, climb on board.”

  With a squeal, Dylan leapt from her arms onto Mike’s back, clinging like a little monkey. The sight had worry battling with longing. This was how things should be, this easy intimacy at the end of the day. Was this how it could be with Mike? For how long, though?

  The question hounded her as she went to the kitchen and found the aspirin. She had no doubt that Mike would want to put a family first. She’d felt how much he valued family every time he talked about his own back in California.

  Wanting a family in theory, however, and actually carving out time for one were not the same. If she had only herself to think about, she’d take the risk and savor every day for as long as it lasted. She had to end things now, though. For Dylan’s sake.

  Something tickled her cheek and she raised a hand to discover a tear quivering at the edge of her jaw.

  The creak of the ladder made her stiffen. Panicked at the thought of Mike finding her crying, she swiped hastily at her cheeks.

  “Well, he fought hard,” Mike said in a hushed tone, “but I think the champ is down for the count.”

  Pasting on a wobbly smile, she turned. “Well he couldn’t have fought too hard, since that didn’t take long.”

  “He was dead to the world seconds after his head hit the pillow.”

  “Here’s your aspirin.” She handed them to him along with a glass of water, not meeting his gaze.

  “Thanks. Look, Kate, about today—”

  “No, please.” She turned away as her control slipped a bit more. Did ending things now have to mean ending them this second? “It’s late. We’re both tired. I think we should just let it lie for tonight.” Tomorrow she’d find the will to say goodbye.

  He remained quiet for a long time before setting the glass aside. “You’re right,” he said at last, moving closer. “In fact, for tonight, I think we should forget the whole thing happened.”

  “Yes.” She bit her lip as his hands settled on her shoulders and every muscle in her back melted.

  “For tonight, let’s forget everything,” he whispered as he bent his head to brush his lips up the side of her neck. A shiver followed the caress, and she closed her eyes. “Forget everything but this.”

  “Yes,” she breathed, and turned in his arms to face him. Caressing his cheek, she brushed her lips over his. “For tonight… yes.”

  With a groan, he pulled her against him and deepened the kiss. Her heart soared as he pressed her back against the counter. Heat blossomed within her at the feel of his hardness nestled against her soft belly. She stroked his back and his arms until the kiss turned greedy. His hands moved possessively over her. When he cupped her breasts at last, she broke the kiss to gasp for air.

  “I want you, Kate,” he growled against her neck. “I need you.”

  “Yes,” she managed to rasp past her own need. She started to reach for him again, but some small part of her brain reminded her where she was: standing beneath an open loft with her son sleeping directly above her. “Not here, though,” she said, nudging his chest.

  He frowned in confusion as she wiggled out of his arms. Then the lines in his face melted into a smile as she took his hand and started walking backward. They moved quietly past the ladder, stopping once to embrace and kiss. Touching and turning, like dancers, they continued toward the bedroom door. The row of buttons down the front of her dress came undone, as did the ones on his shirt, giving them each access to bare skin.

  The moment they entered the bedroom, darkness enveloped them. Her heart soared as his tongue swept inside her mouth, caressing and possessing by turns. Everything about him excited her, his tenderness, his strength, his control, and his hunger. She wanted and needed all of that tonight.

  Pulling out of his arms, she crossed to the bed to turn on a lamp. Soft light dispelled the darkness. When she turned to face him, she found him looking at her as if she were a miracle. Slowly a smile curled his lips.

  The fist that had formed in her stomach relaxed. Returning his smile, she shrugged out of her dress. His gaze followed its descent as it dropped to the floor. She reached behind her and released her bra. His eyes darkened as it, too, fell. With shaking hands, she slipped off her panties so she stood before him completely exposed.

  With one hand, he reached back and closed the door before moving toward her. His expression made her feel cherished, beautiful, alluring. Closing her eyes, she welcomed his touch as he cupped her face and brushed his lips to hers.

  Yes , her heart sang as he ran his hands downward, over her body, then back up to cup her breasts. They filled his palms as he circled her nipples with his thumbs. A whimper escaped her as he bent his head to suckle her, gently at first, then with growing hunger. Her head fell back as she gloried in the sharp pleasure that knifed through her, cutting clean to her soul.

  Even though they’d touched before, enjoyed each other’s bodies, she wanted to cherish every moment. To savor their final time together. She captured his head in her trembling hands, brought his face back up to hers.

  “Love me,” she whispered. “As if… this were the last time.”

  Mike frowned at the sorrow shimmering in her eyes. Didn’t she know how completely he loved her? How she held his very heart in her hands? She was the one with the power to accept or reject, yet he saw vulnerability in the fathomless green eyes that stared back at him. At a loss for words to express what he felt, he simply met her gaze steadily. “With you, it’s always like the first time. Always.”

  He captured her mouth and poured himself into a kiss, into her. She responded with an eagerness that enthralled him and left him shaking. The mere feel of her moving against him in his arms drove him to near madness even as he strove to savor every touch.

  Sweeping her into his arms, he laid her on the bed amid the pillows. She looked like an erotic dream, the bewitching kind of woman who lounged fully nude on a Victorian couch.

  “God, you drive me crazy,” he said as he shed his own clothes and joined her. Her arms wrapped eagerly around him. He drank his fill of her perfumed
neck, her soft breasts, her quivering stomach. Every taste, every sip left him more intoxicated than any liquor.

  She touched him with equal abandon, trading gasp for gasp, sigh for sigh. He’d always felt connected to her in some strange way, but never so much as now. Each time he suckled her breasts, he felt an answering tightness in his own chest. Each time he dipped his hand to the hot nest between her thighs, his own groin jumped in response. And each time she ran her hands over his taut skin, he saw her eyes go heavy with desire.

  The fever swirled around them, through them, binding them in a web of pure need. He stretched on top of her, thrilling to every soft curve that yielded beneath him. He buried his hand in her hair as their mouths joined in a frenzy and their bodies moved as if straining to get inside each other’s skin.

  With a curse, he broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. “I love you,” he said fiercely as he settled between her legs. “And you love me,” he said as he pressed at the threshold of her body.

  For a second, her dazed eyes focused, and she shook her head in denial.

  “You do,” he said again, and nuzzled her neck. “Say it, Kate. Say it.” He moved against her, teasing and enticing—and all the while hoping. “Say it.”

  “Yes,” she sighed at last, then gasped as he drove inside her.

  “Again,” he whispered against her ear as he moved. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I do,” she wept. As if a dam had broken, she repeated the words as she kissed his shoulders and face. “I love you. I love you.”

  He wanted to shout with joy as the piercing pleasure ripped through them both. He tightened his arms about her, felt her cling to him with equal strength as they crashed over to the other side.

  The moment receded slowly, leaving behind a warm sense of contentment. A laugh rumbled in his chest. Lifting his head, he gazed down at her in wonder. She smiled back, looking equally awed. I love you, he told her again in silence as he captured her lips in a tender kiss. She kissed him back with the same gentle abandon, as if equally overwhelmed by what had just passed between them.

  With a sigh, he settled down beside her, smiling as she snuggled in his arms. Never in his life had he felt so physically drained, yet so emotionally filled.

 

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