by Jayne Castle
“You said that you were only recently getting into long-term planning yourself,” she tossed back. The thought of Brad waiting out by the car was making her increasingly uneasy. She wanted to go home.
Matt started to say something else and changed his mind. He reached around her to yank open the door. Brad, who had been leaning against the Ford’s fender, straightened. His gaze went to Sabrina and then to his father.
“Wait in the room while I take Sabrina home,” Matt said coldly. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” Brad muttered.
“Before we leave, you will apologize to Sabrina.”
“How was I to know she was in bed with you?” Brad protested tightly.
“We all know you left the theater early in hopes of embarrassing her.” Matt’s tone chilled to the bone. “Well, you succeeded. So you will apologize.”
Sabrina shivered under the blanket of ice Matt was laying down. If his voice was affecting her this way when she wasn’t even the intended victim, she could imagine what it was doing to a thirteen-year-old kid whose main goal in life was to hold on to his father.
“Sorry, Miss Chase.” There was no real apology in the words, only frustrated anger.
Sabrina nodded bleakly. “Please, Matt. Let’s go.”
“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt warned his son, and then he opened the car door for Sabrina. Ten minutes later, without a word having been spoken for the entire distance of the short trip, the Ford was pulling into Sabrina’s parking lot.
Sabrina had almost convinced herself that she was going to escape unscathed into the relative calm and safety of her own home when Matt finally broke the silence. He waited until they were at her front door before pulling her firmly to a halt. When she looked up she found him frowning at her with savage determination.
“I know it’s not perfect for you. Nothing in life is, Sabrina. But it’s going to get better.”
“What is, Matt?”
“You and me. Us. It’s too late for you to back out now. I want you to realize that.”
“Don’t push me, Matt.”
“I won’t.” His mouth firmed. “At least, I won’t any more than I have to in order to keep from losing you.” He bent swiftly and kissed her. “Good night, Sabrina. I’ll call you in the morning to find out.”
“Find out what?”
“The answer to that question we’ve both been asking for the past month.” He opened the door and pushed her gently inside, and then he was gone.
Sabrina stared after him through the curtain. When the taillights of the Ford had disappeared, she slowly turned away from the window and headed for her bedroom. She was as curious as Matt about whether or not she would hate herself in the morning.
Across the street from Sabrina’s apartment Griffin turned to Shadwell, who was at the wheel of the nondescript Buick.
“If you ask me, that might be the end of it. A woman like that isn’t going to be too thrilled about finding herself first getting laid in a cheap motel and then having the kid arrive back at the room at what must have been a somewhat awkward point.”
“August isn’t turning out to be the world’s smoothest lover, is he?” Shadwell grinned. “Course, it’s probably tough trying to make it under his present circumstances. Like you said, she doesn’t look like the type to put up with the situation very long.”
“A couple of nights will probably be all she’ll want. Coyne’s right. The affair’s bound to fizzle soon. August will be on his way back to Mexico by the end of the week.”
“With the kid,” Shadwell pointed out, lighting a cigarette.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Would you want to be saddled with that kid?”
“Nope. You think he’ll take the boy back to the mother?”
“That’s sure as hell what I’d do. Especially when the kid started getting in the way of my love life.”
“We should know in a few days if the situation is going to sort itself out nice and neat. If it doesn’t, Coyne will have other plans.”
“He needs August,” Griffin said quietly. “We all need him. He’s the only one Valdez will accept.”
“We’ll get him.” Shadwell inhaled on the cigarette and put the Buick in gear.
Sabrina was sound asleep the next morning when the phone rang beside her bed. She made a couple of halfhearted attempts to ignore it and then surrendered to the inevitable.
“This had better be important,” she muttered into the phone without any preamble. “It’s not even six o’clock. I’ve killed for less.”
“It’s important,” Matt’s voice said quietly. “I have to know.”
Sabrina opened her eyes and settled back on the pillow to gaze thoughtfully at the ceiling. The seconds ticked past while she considered the matter in all its varied aspects.
“No,” she announced finally. “I don’t hate myself.”
“Christ, that’s a relief. Maybe now I can get some sleep.”
“Wondering about it kept you awake all night?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you. I think you’re just an early riser. You’re up early, so you decided to pester me.”
“I’d like to do a whole lot more than pester you with obscene phone calls at five forty-five A.M.”
“Good lord. That is an obscene time to call anyone. Where’s Brad?”
“Still asleep.”
Sabrina hesitated uncertainly. “Were you very hard on him, Matt?”
“I tore several large strips off him. And then I took your advice and told him that what was going on between you and me doesn’t have anything to do with him. I tried to explain that his relationship with me is independent of mine with you.”
“Do you think he bought it?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say another word for the rest of the evening. Just sat and read his dumb magazines until it was time to go to bed.”
“How much longer are you going to keep him in that motel room?”
“We’ll start looking for an apartment this afternoon.”
“You’re serious about staying in Dallas?” she asked carefully.
“You’re not going to get rid of me this time as easily as you did down in Mexico.” Matt spoke with absolute conviction. “Things are different this time.”
Sabrina took a deep breath. “Then why don’t you move in with me until you find your own place? I’ve got an extra room you and Brad can share.”
Dead silence greeted the offer. Sabrina realized she was gripping the phone with unnatural force. In another moment it would probably crumble in her hand. “That’s a serious offer?” Matt finally asked in a suspiciously neutral voice.
“I think so.”
“Arrange for a key at your manager’s office. Brad and I will have dinner waiting for you when you get home from work.” Matt hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
Sabrina sat up in bed, staring at the receiver and wondering if she’d gone momentarily crazy. Trouble, she thought. I’m asking for nothing but trouble.
Trouble, thought Rafferty Coyne that afternoon, was exactly what Miss Sabrina Chase was proving to be. He received the report from Griffin and Shadwell that August had packed up himself and his son and moved lock, stock, and barrel into Sabrina’s apartment.
“It looks serious,” Griffin offered by way of opinion.
“If he’s moving in with her, odds are he’s going to stay here in Dallas for a while.” Shadwell watched Coyne carefully. “What now?” Absently he fingered the hilt of the knife he kept strapped under his arm.
“Now we proceed to the next stage,” Coyne told them with unflappable calm. “I’ll handle it myself.”
When Sabrina pulled into her parking lot that afternoon, the first thing she looked for and saw was the now-familiar rented Ford. It was parked directly in front of her apartment. Matt had taken her up on the offer.
All day long she’d had second thoughts about inviting him and his son into her home. But she hadn’t hate
d herself this morning, so she’d stuck by her decision this evening. Opening the car door, she stepped out and walked slowly toward the apartment. There was no one inside, although she saw a large sack of potato chips sitting on the counter. That would probably be the carbohydrate contribution to tonight’s dinner, she decided wryly. She couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the no doubt well-balanced meal would look like.
By the time she reached the kitchen she realized her new houseguests were out on the back patio. A little uncertainly Sabrina opened the screen door and stepped outside.
A knife flew past her head, missing her by no more than a foot. It landed with a thunk in a target that had been erected at the far end of the patio.
“Shit!” Matt roared, advancing on Sabrina. “Don’t ever, ever, walk out here unannounced again when I’m throwing. What the hell’s the matter with you, lady? Don’t you have an ounce of common sense?” She drew back, glaring at him. Brad stood in the background, holding a wide-bladed knife he had been about to hurl at the target in which his father had just scored a bull’s-eye. She swung her gaze to the boy. “Is this the way he yelled at you last night?” she inquired interestedly.
Brad looked startled by the question. Then he said slowly, “Yeah, something like that. There was a little more of it, though.”
“What in the world is going on out here?” Sabrina demanded.
“Dad’s teaching me how to throw knives,” Brad said with the first genuine enthusiasm she had ever heard in his voice. “He’s good. Really good. You ought to see him in action.”
Sabrina stared at first one and then the other. “I’ve seen your father in action, and I’m not at all sure he should be teaching you the kind of tricks I’m afraid he knows,” she murmured coldly. Memories of the way he had come up off the bed and headed for the door, knife in hand, last night flickered through her brain. “I’m not sure what sorts of things fathers are supposed to teach their sons, but I have a feeling this kind of skill is not going to be very useful either in school or in getting a future job, Brad.”
“Don’t let the indignant act fool you, Brad,” Matt pulled the knife from the target. “The first night I met Sabrina down in Mexico she wound up throwing a knife at me.”
“I most certainly did not! I was simply returning it to you,” Sabrina sputtered, aware of the red stain on her cheeks as she told the bold-faced lie. She had been so furious that night that she hadn’t even stopped to think what she was doing.
Matt turned, knife in hand, to laugh at her. “Returning it to me! Sabrina Chase. That knife missed me by no more than a few inches. I won’t forget that little scene for as long as I live. Don’t you dare stand there and claim you were merely handing it back to me!”
Brad was studying Sabrina with grave interest. “Did you really throw a knife at him?”
Sabrina lifted her chin, vividly aware of two important elements in the atmosphere here on the patio.
Number one was that for the first time Brad and his father seemed to be communicating in a fairly relaxed fashion. The second was that knowing she’d had the nerve to hurl a knife at Matt August was buying her some respect from Brad. Sabrina didn’t have the willpower to puncture either of those fragile new developments. All three of them needed the step forward in communication.
“I refuse to discuss the issue further,” she declared regally, her hands on her hips while the two males grinned at her. “What I want to know now is, Where’s the dinner I was promised?”
“We’re going to have a drink first,” Matt informed her, replacing the throwing knives in a small tray Brad was holding. “Tonight we’re celebrating.”
“Are we?” Sabrina asked rather gently.
“Oh, yes. No doubt about it. I haven’t had this much to celebrate in a long time.” For a moment his eyes held hers across the patio, and then he turned to his son. “Come on, Brad. You get the potato chips. I’ll take care of the drinks.”
“Right, Dad.”
Thoughtfully Sabrina watched the boy dash into the apartment to carry out his father’s orders. “It looks like the two of you have found something in common,” she said softly as the screen door slammed.
Matt closed the knife tray. “I’m working on it.”
It was several hours later that Sabrina finally wandered into her bedroom and opened the closet door to find her robe. The first thing she saw was a neat, professionally pressed khaki shirt hanging where her robe usually hung. Below it was a pair of low boots, polished to a dull glow. To one side hung a pair of slacks that had been creased to perfection.
She was still staring into her closet when the bedroom door opened behind her.
“Since you’ve decided you didn’t hate yourself in the morning,” Matt said deliberately as he shut the door and stood watching her, “I saw no reason not to put my things in here instead of in Brad’s room.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll start throwing knives at you again?” she asked with a small smile.
“I’ll risk it.”
“Brave man.”
He shook his head. “No, just one with a lot at stake.” He came toward her slowly, the hunger plain in his eyes.
If the need in him had been simply for sex, Sabrina thought, she could have resisted. If the need in herself had been simply for sex, she could have resisted. But there was more, much more, that this man needed and wanted from her. And a growing amount she needed and wanted from him.
So she smiled and went into his arms.
Chapter Six
It occurred to Matt as he carefully set the dials on Sabrina’s washing machine that what he was really cut out for in life was to be a househusband. Maybe he ought to pursue the career with gusto. He could sign up to sell Mary Kay Cosmetics door to door and start dressing in plastic wrap to greet Sabrina in the evenings.
Sabrina might like that. She had a connoisseur’s appreciation for true tackiness.
Opting for warm wash and cold rinse, Matt stepped back and let the machine go into action. He’d selected the longest wash cycle on the theory that Brad’s socks would need it. Things were improving now that Matt had taken him shopping in the mall where Sabrina had her store. At least the kid had enough pairs of socks to last for a week. But Brad’s chief fashion interest still centered on garments spattered with the colors of alien landscapes. Landscapes that held the promise of violence and death.
It was natural for young boys to be interested in a fantasy world of action and adventure, Matt reminded himself. He glanced out the window and saw Brad poised on the diving board of the pool that occupied the center of the apartment-complex grounds. The kid was still lanky and a little uncoordinated at times, but soon he would start filling out. There was a promise of strength in him, Matt thought with a sense of satisfaction. And the boy had a natural feel for handling a knife.
Sabrina had made it clear she wasn’t at all sure it was proper to be teaching Brad such potentially lethal skills. But since that afternoon a few weeks ago when she’d stepped out onto the patio and almost become a target, she hadn’t said anything more in front of Brad. Matt appreciated that. She seemed to understand that the knives were the first common ground of interest he had established with his son.
“I suppose you’re lucky,” she’d observed last night in bed. “You could have found him wearing a punk rock hairstyle and a safety pin through his nose.”
“Or found him tending toward your friend Alex’s persuasion,” Matt had agreed as he slid into bed beside her. He was pleasantly aware of just how comfortable it was to climb into bed beside Sabrina.
“There is nothing wrong with Alex’s sexual preferences,” she’d replied with a sniff. “And a lot to be said for his other interests in life.”
Matt had levered himself up on one elbow, smiling down at her as he began to coax her nipple out of its burrow with his free hand. He was getting addicted to the way her body responded to his touch. “What other interests?”
“Well, for one thing he doesn’t throw knives
or play with guns. He prefers gallery openings and the ballet. He appreciates fine wine and French cooking. And I find his fashion advice invaluable.”
“I’ll bet.”
“It’s true!”
“Leather jeans and rhinestone cowboy shirts? That’s fashion?” Matt had grinned complacently. Sabrina’s nipple was taut now under the fine material of her nightgown. He went to work on the peak of her other breast, savoring the satisfaction he derived from arousing her.
“He only wears those things to the shop. It’s a joke between us to dress as tacky as the tourists expect,” she’d insisted.
“Okay, okay, I’m not arguing with you about Alex,” Matt had soothed, bending his head to brush his mouth along the base of her throat. As soon as he’d realized that Alex had presented no competition for Sabrina, he’d dismissed the other man from his mind. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.”
“The best. Alex and I have a lot in common, you know.”
Matt had slid her an interested sidelong glance. “You do?” he’d inquired politely.
“Ummm. He’s fated to become the uncle who’s a tad ‘different’ and I’m fated to become the aunt who’s eccentric.”
“Let’s talk about something else besides Alex,” Matt had ordered, losing interest in the conversation in direct ratio to his own increasing arousal.
Sabrina had sighed and reached out to twine her arms around his neck. Just before his mouth had closed over hers, however, she’d asked, “Know what I like best about Alex?”
“What?”
“He’s the only man I’ve ever met who doesn’t try to give me orders.”
Matt had canceled the rest of the remarks about Alex by crushing Sabrina firmly back into the pillows.
Remembering the scene in her bedroom now as he finished setting the dials on the washing machine, Matt smiled with a touch of complacency. He’d felt good these past few days. Better than he had in a long while. He realized he was beginning to feel focused again. Once upon a time his career had provided that point of reference, but now it was becoming clear that other factors worked just as well. Maybe even better, he thought wryly as he opened a cupboard door to check on cereal supplies. Brad ate a ton of dried cereal in the mornings and Sabrina was turning out to be rather haphazard about such matters as organized marketing. Matt made a note to add cereal and milk to the shopping list.
