Jack picked up his sleeping son. “Come on, tiger, it’s been a big day. Let’s get you in the playpen.”
Danny snuggled against him, not waking. Jack gently laid him down. On his stomach, his diaper-padded rear stuck in the air, Danny released a tiny baby sigh as he settled into the playpen, before Jack turned him over so that he slept on his back.
Jack pulled his shirt from his trousers, then kicked off his shoes. He’d forgotten how exhausting it was to stand for hours behind a bar, making conversation with dull-thinking men. Splashing water on his face, he shook the droplets away as he reached for a towel, then shed his clothes. Clad only in his boxers, he padded back into the bedroom, then paused.
Where was he going to sleep?
There wasn’t even a chair to stretch out on, and one look at the wooden floor told him that was definitely a last resort. His mind had been filled with danger, alternate escape plans and worry. He hadn’t even thought about sleeping arrangements. While Danny was secure for the night, and Summer was clearly comfortable, Jack wasn’t prepared for the inn to be full.
Stepping closer to the bed, Jack noted that Summer’s lips were curled in an unconscious pout and he couldn’t miss noticing that they were full and moist. Her breath eased out evenly, her chest rising and falling in quiet accompaniment.
He really should have thought out the sleeping arrangements, Jack realized. Summer sighed in her sleep, extending her long legs at the same time. Really, really should have thought them out.
Jack glanced again at the floor. There was one blanket folded neatly at the bottom of the bed. It wouldn’t make much of a sleeping roll. It would also leave Summer without a blanket.
It was probably upended, backward reasoning, but Jack decided to go with it. Unfolding the blanket, he covered Summer, wondering if he was doing it more for her benefit or his. Staring at the lissome limbs and previously undiscovered curves might do him in. He clicked off the lamp, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Soon only weak moonlight pushed past the thin curtains.
Carefully, so as not to disturb her, Jack settled onto the other side of the bed. The mattress sagged slightly under the additional weight, bringing Summer a trifle closer. For a moment, Jack held his breath, but she didn’t waken.
It was quiet for the first time in more hours than he could count. Although they’d only left Edisto the previous day, it seemed as though weeks had gone by. Sheer exhaustion should have conked him out in seconds. Instead he inhaled Summer’s unique scent. She smelled of sunshine, flowers and cool breezes. He smiled suddenly in the darkness. Her scent defined the season she’d been named for. How apt that she should smell of summer.
She murmured just then, a gentle sigh, an easing of her lips as they curved unexpectedly. Dreaming, he guessed. Jack wondered what she dreamed of, this woman of contradictions, this woman who had so effectively hidden her femininity. Did she dream of long, cloud-swept days, of beaches rich with the sea’s plunder? Or did she dream of love, of days spent strolling hand in hand with that special one?
Suddenly Jack wondered if the torture of the unforgiving floor could be worse than his own thoughts. He had thought it would be nearly impossible to stay awake long enough to crawl into bed. Now Jack wondered if he would manage to sleep at all.
He heard another gentle sigh and watched as the moonlight played over Summer’s face. It was going to be a long night. A very long night.
The sunshine was bright and insistent, forcing Summer to open reluctant eyelids. Disoriented, she stared at the unfamiliar room. Then she remembered. Jack, Danny... She reached out, feeling only an empty expanse of mattress. Where was the baby?
Terrified for Danny’s safety, she bolted upright, then spotted his perky jammies in the playpen. Sagging backward in relief, she realized he was sleeping. A moment later, her eyes flew open. How had Danny gotten into the playpen? The last thing she remembered doing was closing her eyes for a brief moment, intending to waken before Jack returned.
Stomach sinking, Summer slowly turned her head. Broad, tanned shoulders sloped downward to a trim waist, nearly covered by the blanket twisted around his hips and legs. The arm flung over the blanket was equally tan and muscled. Swallowing a sudden gulp, she wondered how he was dressed beneath the blanket.
And how had she managed to sleep in the same bed with him without being aware of his presence? Clearly he wasn’t someone easily missed. Taking inventory, she realized he was quite a package. A package that appeared to be completely unwrapped and lying next to her.
She hated to look a gift horse in the mouth. Then again...
At that moment, Danny wailed, a strident cry that couldn’t be ignored. Summer pulled back the blanket just as Jack leaped from the bed, stumbling over what she guessed were his shoes. As she raced toward the playpen, he cursed mildly when he thwacked into the bedpost.
They reached Danny at nearly the same moment, and Jack reached down, easily lifting his son into his arms. He turned, his mouth falling open when he finally noticed her. Blearily he eyed her as he comforted his son. “Summer?”
She nodded warily.
“I think we’ve got a problem.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Which is?”
“There’s no coffee.”
“Excuse me?”
“Why? It’s not your fault we don’t have coffee.” His gaze traveled down her legs, and she knew her cheeks reddened in awareness. “But it is your fault I need that coffee.”
She frowned. “Why’s that?”
“Because I gotta know if I’m awake or dreaming.” He paused, his gaze meeting hers before lowering to travel down her legs again. “From where I’m standing, I’m having one hell of a dream.”
Chapter 5
Coffee was a wonderful thing, Jack decided. Sobering, awakening, stabilizing. And he was practically inhaling his.
Danny was happily ensconced in one of the diner’s high chairs, gleefully destroying a paper napkin between bites of oatmeal.
And Summer was still avoiding his gaze, pretending great interest in her fruit and toast. Not that he could blame her after their less than auspicious beginning that morning.
“Summer, I was dead tired this morning.” Jack forced still gritty eyes to open wider. “Frankly I still am. For a minute there, I forgot where we were, who you were.”
She cleared her throat, picking aimlessly at the berries in her bowl. “It’s all right. I told you that.”
“I think I embarrassed you,” Jack continued, knowing the truth had to be spoken: “And I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Summer raised her eyes to meet his. Something unexpected simmered in their tawny depths, something he couldn’t quite identify. “Fine. No problem.”
He wasn’t sure, but guessed that somehow he’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t know—”
“Jack!” A woman’s voice called out his name, and for a moment he froze. Had he mistaken his ability to elude his pursuers? Had his detour been a mistake?
Then Rita rushed to the table. As he stood in relief, the older woman enveloped him in a hug.
“I heard you were back!” she exclaimed in a quiet voice filled with excitement. “And that you’d brought Danny!” She bent down next to the high chair. “Hi, sweetie!” Then she straightened, holding her hand out to Summer. “And that you have a lovely new wife. Hello, I’m Rita. I’m so pleased to meet you.”
Jack watched the exchange, knowing how impossible Rita’s charm was to resist When he’d first met Bart and Rita, he hadn’t intended to allow anyone to watch Danny, but she’d soon won him over.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Rita,” Summer murmured.
“Won’t you join us?” Jack offered.
“I don’t want to interrupt....” Rita protested.
“You’re not,” he insisted, grateful for her presence. He pulled over another chair.
Hesitantly she sat down, then turned to Summer. “Are you certain I’m not interrupting?”
“Of course n
ot.”
“It’s just that I’m crazy about this little one.” Rita smiled at Danny, then jiggled his paper napkin so that he grinned back at her.
Summer glanced at the pair. “I can see that.”
“If you ever need anyone to baby-sit, I’d love to,” Rita told her. “He was such a love to watch before.” Longing showed on the woman’s face as clearly as the gentle smile on her lips.
Summer couldn’t resist the combination. “I think Danny would like that.”
Rita all but clapped her hands in delight. “Bart said you might want to do some waitress work to earn some extra cash. If you do, I’d be happy to watch Danny.” She reached over and smoothed her hand over Danny’s hair. “Very happy.”
Helplessly Summer met Jack’s gaze. She hadn’t wanted to waitress, but it looked as though the decision was being taken out of her hands. Waitressing wasn’t completely foreign to her. She’d spent her summers during college working in a restaurant. And from the way things had gone, a little extra cash might not be a bad idea. She suspected Jack’s supply was running low and when she’d offered to get a cash advance on her credit card, he had refused. But perhaps he would view this differently.
“If I’m really needed...”
Rita tore her attention from Danny. “Actually Marla, the waitress who was supposed to be on for tonight, has the flu. I know Bart would love for you to work.”
It was all happening faster than she’d expected. “I don’t have much experience....” Summer began.
But Rita waved away her protest. “It’s a casual place—you can see that. You’ll be fine.” She reached forward to caress Danny’s cheek, clearly already enraptured with the child.
Summer managed a smile. “Then I guess I’m waitressing.”
Shadows dipped among the boxes in the otherwise empty warehouse. The shrill ring of a cellular phone intruded upon the sterile surroundings.
“Yeah,” the man answered. He listened for a few moments, his scowl deepening.
Next to him, a shadow emerged, then took on definition as a second man joined him.
The first man slammed the phone down on a battered desk as he swore violently. “They lost them.”
The second man withdrew a thick folder, and in seconds it joined the phone, thrown down on the desk with seemingly careless disdain. But the grim expression on the man’s face denied anything casual about the significance of its contents. “Memorize it, dissect it, snort it up your nose. I don’t care how, but you comb through these papers until you know how Jack Anderson ticks.”
Beads of sweat broke out above the first man’s fleshy lips. “What if he’s thought of a new angle?”
“Then you’d better find out what it is. I don’t want excuses. I want results.”
“We could destroy this file,” the first man suggested. “Then no one would have to know we can’t find Anderson.”
“You’ll find him or you’ll share his fate.” The second man let the significance of that statement sink in as he reached for his jacket, flashing his shoulder holster and weapon.
The first man licked his lips, a nervous gesture that emphasized his wide, ugly mouth. He knew the man wasn’t making an empty threat. If he didn’t find Jack Anderson, he’d wind up sucking wind on the wrong end of a tailpipe. And he didn’t have a taste for death just yet. At least not his own.
“We’ll find him...if I have to take out everybody in the folder.”
“That wouldn’t be very wise, now, would it?” the second man intoned, his nearly colorless eyes narrowing.
“No?” A serpentine tongue flicked out again to nervously moisten fleshy lips.
“And wreck our advantage? Right now, we have a road map to Anderson’s hideouts. You wipe them out and he runs his own course.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think of that.”
“You didn’t think, period.” Eerily pale eyes chilled even further. “But you’d better start. You’ve got as many chances as Anderson, and you’ve already blown half of them.”
The first man tore his gaze away from the other’s hypnotic stare. “Don’t worry. Anderson won’t live long enough to collect the rest of his chances.”
Jack watched Summer waitress and knew Rita had been right. She was doing a capable job. She got the orders right, was fast and kept up with him.
But there was a problem. A big problem.
The customers liked her too much. Jack admitted that she looked different now. Hell, he’d felt as if she’d sucker punched him when he’d first seen the change. He just hadn’t anticipated her effect on the rest of the male population.
And, he was discovering, it was quite an affect
As he scowled at her, Summer approached with an empty tray and an engaging smile. His brow lifted of its own accord. Had she ever smiled at him like that before? His gut tightened, and he slammed the glasses on the rack with more force than necessary.
“Four more beers,” she announced. “And another whiskey.”
“Big surprise,” he muttered.
Her smile wavered. “Problem?”
He pulled the beers, then put them on her tray. “Nope. Don’t you have a blouse with a higher neckline?”
Summer glanced at the scoop-necked blouse. “Is there something wrong with this one?”
“Yes. No... Look. here’s your order. I don’t have time to stand here chatting.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Chatting?”
“Summer!” Bart hollered. “One more beer over here.”
“I heard,” Jack muttered, pulling another beer and loading it on her tray.
She turned away as quickly as possible with the loaded tray.
Jack intended to turn away, too. Instead he watched as she walked away. How had those overalls hidden the flare of her hips, the curve of her waist, a derriere that defied description?
Or had he simply been blind?
Although busy with the customers lined up at the bar, Jack was able to see that the patrons weren’t afflicted with his handicap. In fact, none of them appeared the least bit blind.
Watching Summer, Jack wasn’t sure if he was glad that his own blinders had been removed, or desperately wishing they hadn’t.
Summer stalked down the hallway, Jack directly behind her. When she reached the doorway to their room, she hesitated, turning the knob softly.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Jack told her. “Rita has Danny. She thought it would be easier to have him sleep in her rooms since it would be late when our shift ended.”
“Right.” Deflated, Summer found her anger slipping away as she realized she was now going to be alone with Jack in the tiny room.
In the solitary bed.
She had no choice but to move forward. But once inside, Summer regained a fraction of her earlier resentment.
Turning, she faced him. “What was wrong with you tonight?”
“Wrong?” He stalled, fiddling with keys and change.
“Well, I hope something was wrong. Otherwise, you were acting like a jerk for no reason.”
“Look, I dragged you into this so I’m responsible for you.”
“Responsible? I may not be the best waitress the world’s ever seen, but I was doing okay!”
“I’m not talking about your work.”
“Then what?” she demanded, her anger reaching a full boil.
“Don’t you have something else to wear?”
“Excuse me?”
“Every man in the bar tonight was ogling you.”
“Ogling?” Summer repeated, oddly pleased by the false accusation.
“What would you call it?”
“They were just being friendly,” she replied, enjoying the look on his face. “So was I.”
“Like I said, I got you into this, and I think you’re being too friendly. You’re not used to men like this—”
“How do you know what kind of men I’m used to?”
Jack stopped, blinked, then stared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
> Enjoying the feminine advantage, Summer merely shrugged. “You’re right. It has been a long day.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
She smiled sweetly. “And I don’t remember being too friendly.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Are you trying to make me crazy?”
“I don’t know. Is it working?”
“Am I crazy? Not quite, but don’t let that deter you. I’m going to take a shower.” He stalked toward the bathroom, halted suddenly, then turned around slowly. “After you.”
Something warm settled inside. So, he was a gentleman even under the worst of circumstances. “I’m not in any big hurry.”
But he’d already retreated toward the door leading to the hallway. “Look, I’ll take a walk or something.”
Summer’s gaze wandered again toward the bed. “Okay.”
Not certain when he would return, Summer showered quickly, changing into the sleep shirt she’d bought along with the clothes Jack seemed to disapprove of so much. She held up the blouse she’d chosen for that day. Examining it critically, she still didn’t see anything wrong with the innocent garment.
Avoiding the bed as long as possible, she glanced at the clock. It was late, her feet were screaming from the hours she’d stood on them and there was nothing left in the small room to distract her.
Cautiously Summer turned back the blanket, as though pulling a bandage off a still tender scab. And much like a bandage, the longer she prolonged it, the more painful it was.
“This is ridiculous!” she chided herself aloud. “I’m an adult. He’s an adult.” It hit her suddenly that her last points weren’t an advantage.
Resolutely she climbed in the bed, then reached over to turn the lamp down to low. Folding her hands neatly above the sheet, she lay perfectly still. A few moments later, it occurred to her that she’d adopted the pose of a corpse. Disgusted with herself, she turned on her side, thumped her pillow into a comfortable position and closed her eyes.
The Hijacked Wife Page 7
