Snowbound Security

by Beverly Long

  “Create what?” Hannah asked, getting half the conversation.

  “A reputation,” Rico said.

  “What’s that?” Hannah asked, her mouth full of cookie.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Laura reminded gently. “A reputation is something you’re known for.”

  Hannah considered her. “You have a reputation.”

  Laura was almost afraid to ask. “For being?”

  “For being the best storyteller ever.”

  Laura felt her insides warm and knew it had nothing to do with the hot chocolate. Had she immediately loved Hannah? She thought so. But even if she hadn’t, the little girl was so darn sweet that she’d have quickly fallen in love.

  “Good to know, Hannah. I’ll have to have Laura tell me a story,” Rico said. “Something appropriate for the moment.”

  Laura knew the innuendo went over the two children’s heads but it stoked the heat already burning in her belly.

  “What do you girls want to do now? We have about two hours before Ari gets picked up.”

  “Watch a movie,” Hannah shouted.

  “Watch a movie,” Ari repeated at a slightly lower volume.

  Laura reached behind her for the computer.

  “No. On the big screen,” Hannah said. “In the bedroom. All of us.”

  Now Rico was smiling. “I love it when a plan comes together.”

  Laura ignored him. It would be difficult for all of them to watch something on the computer. It only made sense to make use of the screen. “I suppose we could. Go pick out a DVD.” Hannah had found them in the drawer that first night.

  When the two little girls were out of the room, she shook her head at Rico. “Your friend Jennie is counting on you to be a good influence. Like she was on you.”

  He shrugged. “You’d be surprised what I saw her and Paddie doing in the back room.”

  “Oh,” Laura managed, envisioning all kinds of something.

  Rico laughed. “I’m teasing. It was strictly a G-rated store. As will be the next two hours. But when the second feature comes on and Hannah is napping, all bets are off.”

  Her mind reverted right back to where it had been.

  The girls came running back into the room and handed the DVD to Laura. She held up the case for Rico.

  “One of my favorites,” he said easily. “Love it when the whole world turns to ice. Makes for an exciting thaw.”

  Good grief, he could even manage to make a kids’ movie sexy.

  Somehow, over the next two hours, with her on one side of the king bed and Rico on the other, with the two little girls between them, she managed not to implode. But every time he shifted his weight, or played with the ends of her hair with his fingertips, or said something that went over their heads but settled deep in her center, she felt as if this might be the longest and oddest foreplay she’d ever experienced.

  By the time Jennie and Paddie came and they handed off Ari and then ten minutes later settled Hannah in for a nap in the second bedroom, she was tightly strung.

  Rico stood when she came into the room. Held out his hand, pulled her close.

  “She needs to be asleep,” she whispered.

  “We can start with our clothes on,” Rico said as he backed her up against the living room wall. He put one hand behind her neck and gently tilted her face up. Then he kissed her.

  Confident. Skilled. Making good on the promises of the last hour.

  And heat. Delicious heat. Consuming her.

  From a kiss.

  But not just a kiss. He was crowding her, his whole body touching her. Leg against leg. Arm under her shirt, curling around her waist. Hand on her back.

  He arched his hips forward.

  So ready. Yes. Now. Do it now.

  She wanted to beg. But since he had her mouth otherwise occupied, she lifted a leg, hitched it over his hip, opening herself to him. Then remembered his injury. She twisted her mouth away. “Your ankle,” she murmured, and tried to move her leg.

  His response was short, pithy, and left no doubt that he wasn’t thinking about his ankle right now. And to further prove his point, he moved his hands, cupped her bottom, kept her anchored. Kissed her again.

  Finally, he lifted his mouth. “How long?” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “How long does it take her to fall asleep?”

  “We should be good.” Truth be told, the little girl had been close to asleep by the time Laura had tiptoed out of the room.

  A long breath went out of his body. He said nothing. Moved enough that she could get her leg down, then took her hand and led her down the hall and back to his big bed.

  “More movies?” she teased.

  He locked the door behind them. Turned. “How long will she sleep?”

  “An hour and a half,” she whispered.

  He nodded sharply. “That might be enough time.”

  * * *

  Rico thought time might have stopped. Or maybe it was just his heart. But when Laura welcomed him into her body, so wet, so ready, it was almost more than he could handle.

  He cautioned himself to slow down, make it last, make it good, and he fought the pulsing need within him. She was exquisite. So finely made. Soft skin. Pretty breasts that were just perfect for his hand, his mouth.

  She smelled so good that he wanted to draw her scent deep into his lungs and never let it go. Wanted to keep her naked and in his bed forever.

  Wanted her to be his.

  That knowledge hit him hard and fast and he reared up, needing to see her face, needing to know if there was any chance that she felt the same.

  Her eyes were open, her lips were parted. “Rico,” she whispered.

  He felt the answering surge in his body. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “Everything. I want it all.”

  He wanted to tell her, wanted her to know how he felt. But knew that words whispered in passion were easily discounted.

  He changed his angle ever so slightly, adjusted his stroke. “Like this?” he asked.

  “Oh, God, yes,” she said, opening her legs wider, letting him sink deeper.

  She came minutes later, her body clenching and unclenching, taking him with her. And he knew that everything that happened after this moment would be different. Because he would be different. Changed by this woman who’d wandered into his life.

  Taken a place in his heart.

  * * *

  Laura woke up warm and content. They were both under the covers and Rico’s naked body was wrapped around her. He was like a small furnace.

  She turned her head. He was awake. “Did you sleep?” she asked, looking at the bedside clock. They’d been in his bedroom for almost ninety minutes.

  “I might have passed out after the second time,” he said, his voice lazy.

  She understood. Her first climax had shattered her, and she’d told herself that if nothing that wonderful ever happened again, at least she would have had this. And she’d rested in his arms, him spooned around her, her mind almost empty, like she’d been given a great reprieve from constant worry and strain.

  It had been good.

  And then he’d kissed her and his hands had moved over her, touching, teasing, making her sated body come alive once more. “Again?” she’d whispered.

  “Is that okay?” he’d asked, his need heavy against her bottom.

  “Perfect,” she’d admitted, and had turned in his arms. “Just perfect.”

  And it had been. Slower than the first time, actions more defined, more deliberate. The need not quite so frantic.

  The end result every bit as wonderful.

  “We should get dressed,” she murmured now.

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve been listening. I haven’t heard anything from her room.”

 
; “She’s a good sleeper,” Laura said. “In fact, I might be able to sneak out tonight. That is, if you’d be interested in keeping your door unlocked.”

  “If I was any more interested, it might be illegal,” he said.

  She wiggled out of his arms and slipped out of bed. The floor was cold but the look in his eyes was pure heat. “Oh, no,” she said, holding up her hand.

  He smiled. “Fine. But she’s going to bed early tonight.”

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, he was already sitting at the table when Laura and Hannah wandered into the room. They were both wearing fuzzy socks. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Can we play outside?” Hannah asked.

  He could see Laura wince and knew that she was probably tired. They’d spent a fair amount of time awake the night before. “Later,” he said. He looked at Laura. “Coffee is made.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, no. Thank you.”

  She rolled her eyes. But she smiled. “Hannah, do you want an orange?”

  “And pancakes,” said the little girl. “Just like yesterday.”

  “I like doing things over,” Rico said, very innocently.

  “How long have you been up?” Laura said. “I’m just asking because I’m wondering if you wake up like this or you have to work up to it?”

  Rico laughed, thinking how much fun it would be to tease Laura every morning. “Sit,” he said. “Have some coffee. Everything will be better with caffeine.”

  It was midafternoon when Rico heard the phone ring. He considered not answering it because he was pretty darn comfortable on the couch. Content. He might try to pass that off as a result of the good book in his lap and the steady blaze in the fireplace. He knew it had much more to do with the woman who sat on the other couch, also reading, and the little girl who was playing a game on the computer.

  There was a chance that it was a silly telemarketer. But a small one. It could be Jennie.

  He got himself off the couch, walked over to the phone on the wall and lifted the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Rico.”

  It was his sister. He so did not want another conversation about Peter Whittle and the man’s inability to find a job. “Hi, Charro,” he said.

  “Rico,” she said again.

  And he knew, just knew, that something was very wrong. Her voice was shaky. Almost tentative. And that wasn’t his sister.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  “It’s Dad,” she said. “He’s in the hospital.”

  It was the call he’d been waiting for. Dreading. “Why?”

  “Mom found him on the floor earlier this morning. He was unconscious. She called the ambulance and then called me.”

  “What are the doctors saying?”

  “He had a heart attack. They want to do surgery.”

  He looked across the room at Laura, who had looked up from her book. Thought of the commotion that had occurred two nights ago and the possibility that a drone had been flying overhead. Thought of leaving her and Hannah in the cabin alone.

  Thought of leaving her. Period.

  It left a nasty feeling in his stomach. But he would have to go. He wanted to be there. For his dad. For his mom.

  “How’s Mom holding up?” he asked.

  “As good as could be expected. She wanted me to call. Dad’s...asking for you. I tried your cell and your office. Your receptionist said you were at the cabin.”

  He could hear the change in her tone. Knew that his presence in Colorado without notifying the family that he was close would be a mark in the selfish jerk column.

  He resisted the urge to tell her that he’d just gotten in two days ago. He didn’t owe her any explanations but he also didn’t want to fight with her. Not now.

  “We’ve got quite a bit of snow,” he said. Earlier he’d heard the plows go by on the main road but the long driveway still had three-foot-high drifts. “But as soon as I can plow myself out, I’ll be there.”

  There was silence. Finally, she said, “He’ll be glad to hear that.” Then she hung up.

  He softly replaced the receiver. Then, because he wasn’t quite ready to talk about it, he opened the refrigerator door and started pulling out things. Carrots. Peppers. Radishes. Cucumbers. Hummus. Flatbread.

  Then he found a knife. Picked it up and felt the weight of it in his hand.

  Strong. Solid.

  That had always been his dad. Worked twelve-hour days to provide for his family, came home for dinner with shadows under his eyes and dirt under his fingernails, but always managed to stay awake long enough to ask his children about their day, to give a bath when they were little, to read a story. To listen to them read as they got older. To encourage them to study hard, to become something.

  He put the knife down. Stared out the kitchen window, saw the snow but didn’t really see it.

  Placido Metez had been a part of his kids’ lives before it had been fashionable for dads to take on that role.

  Rico wasn’t ready to tell him goodbye yet.

  He picked up the knife once again and started chopping. When he was done, he spread the flatbread first with hummus, then topped it with the vegetables.

  Cut the flatbread into squares. Pushed the plate to the side. Reached for a glass. Filled it with water. Drank it.

  Finally, he turned. Laura was staring at him. “What?” she asked.

  “My dad is in the hospital,” he said. “His heart, I guess. He collapsed at home and was taken by ambulance.”

  She got up, came and stood close. Put her hand on his forearm. “Oh, Rico, I’m so sorry. Is he going to be okay?”

  “They want to do surgery. That was my sister. My folks want me to come.”

  “Of course,” she said. She glanced toward the window. “Can you get out of the lane?”

  He nodded. “There’s a tractor with a plow in the shed.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I guess I should be grateful that I don’t have to shovel.”

  She was likely recalling that when he’d convinced her to come back to the cabin, he’d made a big deal of needing another adult around to help him with things like shoveling snow.

  “I want you and Hannah to come with me,” he said.

  “To plow snow?” she asked.

  “No. To Torcak. It’s another twenty minutes west of Moreville. That’s where my parents live. My sister, too. That’s where the hospital is.”

  “But...” Her voice trailed off. “I’m sure your family doesn’t want strangers there.”

  “You’re not a stranger,” he said. “I shouldn’t have to say that. Not after...” He stopped, looked at Hannah. “I don’t want to leave the two of you here,” he said. “I’ll be able to get the lane cleared but if the wind picks up again tonight, it’ll drift shut again. Then you won’t be able to get out.”

  “We shouldn’t need to,” she said.

  “But in case of an emergency,” he argued. “I’d just feel a lot better if you were with me.”

  She stared out the window. “What will you tell your family about me and Hannah? They’re going to have questions.”

  He wanted to tell them that Laura was pretty special. But the two of them had had none of those conversations. “You’re an old friend from Tennessee. They’re going to be worried about my dad, not about you.”

  “How long will it take to plow the lane?”

  “Forty-five minutes,” he said. “Would that work?”

  “Yes. Would we take your SUV?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll need the car seat.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Will we stay all night?” she asked.

  “If we do, I’ll pay for your and Hannah’s hotel room.”

  * * *

  There was no reason to
keep drilling him. She’d already decided. “Okay, go,” she said, motioning him toward the door. “I know you’re anxious to get there.”

  She listened to the growl of the tractor as it plowed the snow. Rico was scared. No doubt about it. And seeing that was like a bucket of ice water in her face. It seemed like yesterday she’d gotten her version of that call from her brother.

  And she’d hurried to the airport. Had waited, her nerves on edge, through a forty-eight-minute delay. And the seventy-minute flight had seemed to take three days. Then she’d begged the cab driver to hurry.

  But had arrived too late. Both her parents had experienced massive head injuries and were breathing through the use of a ventilator. Both were unconscious.

  Six days later, the ventilators had been removed and her parents had been allowed to die. Joe had been furious. And she couldn’t convince him that she’d made the right decision.

  When Rico had said that she wanted her and Hannah to go with him, she’d almost said hell no. This morning had been the closest she’d come to being relaxed in months, ever since she’d made the decision to leave her physical therapy practice, move to another city and get a job at Hannah’s daycare.

  But she hadn’t been able to say no. His mind had to be whirling and he didn’t need to add her to the list of things that weren’t going his way.

  Torcak was more than an hour away but they would still arrive before dinner. She’d been just about to put Hannah down for a nap. The little girl would sleep on the drive and be fine. She needed to gather up their things so that they were ready once there was a path through the snow.

  Thirty minutes later, when Rico came back inside, bringing the cold with him, Hannah was sitting at the table, eating a piece of the flatbread that Rico had made. The little girl had seen it on the counter and immediately wanted some.

  Laura had been prepared for her to take one bite and spit it out. But that hadn’t happened. Now, she’d worked her way almost through the whole piece.

  “Hey, sunshine,” Rico said, running his glove across her head.

  She giggled. “My name isn’t Sunshine.”

  “You like my flatbread?” he asked.

  Hannah nodded. “No vegetables in heaven.”

  That seemed to stop Rico in his tracks. He looked at Laura, who tried to brush it off with a wave of her hand.