by Robin Kaye
He opened the door and held it. “What floor are you on?”
“Just one up. I can take it from here.”
“I’ll see you to the door.”
“Fine.” She pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes and trudged up the steps, cursing under her breath. It was dangerous having Slater so close. She stood in front of her door, facing him, and then she remembered he still had her keys.
The smile on his face said he knew she was back in the pickle jar. He looked through the keys and found one with a bright red rubber piece surrounding the head. “Is it this one?”
“Yes.”
He leaned in, rested his left hand on the doorjamb, blocking her in, and fit the key into the lock.
She pushed back against the wood, the slats digging into her back. He was so close she smelled the rain on him. He was so close she felt his breath brushing her cheek. He was so close she felt his heat, but he didn’t touch her. Not that she wanted him to—much.
“When you go in, make sure you lock up.”
All she could do was nod.
“Sweet dreams, Rocki.”
Right. With the way her day was going, those dreams would not only be sweet, they’d be wet.
• • •
After a night of too little sleep due to way too many thoughts of one particularly hot blonde who had the ability to steal the spotlight while fading into the woodwork and some serious trust issues, something had woken Slater and, unfortunately, it hadn’t been Rocki.
He’d finally been out for the count and now he was wide awake. Shit. One glance at his watch and he let out a groan. It was too early to be awake. He rubbed his eyes and felt the foot of the bed dip. What the hell? There was a kid in his room. And a dog. “Nicki, what are you doing in here?” Hadn’t she ever heard of knocking? He pulled the sheet up and thanked God he wasn’t flashing her. Still, he was uncomfortable. He’d never before been naked under nothing but a sheet in the presence of a ten-year-old girl and her dog.
“D.O.G. needs to go out.”
“So, take him out.”
Her hair looked like a rat’s nest—curls stuck straight out from what looked like matted knots.
“I’m not allowed to take D.O.G. out by myself and Pop’s still not up for it. D.O.G. pulls too hard and it hurts Pop’s chest, and sometimes D.O.G. pulls me right over. I scraped my knee. Wanna see?”
“No.” He was afraid if he’d said yes, the kid would take her pants off or something and the last thing he wanted was for them both to be without pants.
“It’s right under the hole in my jeans here.” The kid lifted her knee to show off her ripped jeans. “Skye put some stuff on it that made the stinging stop. She’s nice.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Mr. Francis came up before he and Ms. Patrice left last night and took D.O.G. for a walk since you weren’t around, but that was hours and hours ago and D.O.G. has to pee.”
Shit, he’d forgotten all about the mutt last night. He’d never had a dog. He knew no more about what to do with a dog than he knew about what to do with a little girl. He did have a very strong suspicion he would no longer be sleeping in the raw.
“I’d have brung you coffee—”
“Brought.”
“Whatever.” Nicki pushed her hair out of her eyes and he looked away. How a ten-year-old, fifty-pound girl could give him the willies he’d never know.
“I would have brought you coffee but I don’t know how you take it.” She shrugged and she and the dog leaned against the bed watching him. “Storm and Logan were always nicer when I waked them up with coffee but Skye’s nice all the time. I guess it depends on the grown-up, huh?” She tilted her head to the left and crossed her bony arms over her chest. “Or is it only boys who are always cranky in the morning?”
“I’m not cranky. Why don’t you and your buddy there get ready to go and let me get dressed.”
“You want me to pour your coffee?”
“Sure. I take it black.”
“Sugar?”
“No, I’m sweet enough as it is.”
The kid actually cracked a smile and let out a little giggle. “Hurry up and get dressed. Maybe we’ll run into Skye and Pepperoni. Then we can take both dogs to the dog park and let them play and you can buy us bagels. Logan always buys us bagels before school. He promised he’d come home, you know.”
“He did?” Slater hoped the kid wouldn’t be disappointed if Logan had a sudden change of plans. After all, it sounded as if he and Skye had some kind of blowup.
“Sure. He loves Skye and Skye loves him so of course he’s coming home. People don’t leave people they love.”
From what Slater had seen, love was temporary at best. Nicki obviously had read one too many fairy tales. What was it with little girls—hell, big girls too—and love? Until last night, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a couple who were really in love.
Nicki worried her lip between her teeth and backed out of his room. D.O.G. eyed him warily and followed her out.
“Nicki, close the door.”
When the door snicked shut, he picked up his jeans off the floor and tugged them on.
If Francis and Patrice weren’t in love, then they had been doing a hell of a job of faking it last night. He’d watched them dance and almost felt like a voyeur. The way they danced and looked at each other made him uncomfortable enough to look away. It was so intimate, so personal, that even though they weren’t doing anything at all sexual, the two of them should have gotten a room. He’d never seen anything like it.
Slater headed to the bathroom with Nicki’s words repeating in his head. People don’t leave people they love. He loved his father and his brothers, but he had no problem leaving them. He guessed it would be different if he loved a woman, but since that had never happened, he had to be immune.
He ran his head under the faucet—the only way to deal with his bed head—brushed his teeth, and dragged on a Henley before grabbing his jacket.
Nicki stood by the door holding D.O.G.’s leash in one hand and a travel mug of coffee in the other. “Thanks for taking us out.”
“No problem.” He took a swig of coffee, tapped his back pocket to make sure his wallet was still there, and grabbed the keys. “Let’s go.”
Nicki handed him the leash. “You first, but be careful, he gots to go bad, so he’ll pull you down the steps.”
“Thanks for the warning.” And it was a good thing she’d told him because if she hadn’t, he was sure he’d be on his ass. He hightailed it outside and waited for Nicki while D.O.G. took a leak on the nearest tree.
She shook her head. “Told you he had to pee bad.”
“You sure did.” The rain had stopped and the skies had cleared and it was unseasonably warm. He took off his jacket and asked Nicki, “Why don’t you show me this dog park and the bagel shop? We can let your boy here play and bring back breakfast.”
“Okay.” Nicki grabbed his hand.
He’d never held a little girl’s hand before and he wasn’t sure why he was now, but he didn’t think it would be cool to ask. He didn’t want Nicki to think he didn’t like her.
“I’m not allowed to cross the street without holding a grown-up’s hand.”
Great, he’d better start doing a better job of hiding his discomfort around the kid.
“The park is this way.” Nicki skipped across the street and let him go as soon as she hit the sidewalk. “Bree’s pretty weird about things like crossing the street and she has spies everywhere. It’s just not worth taking a chance on getting caught.”
He figured she was more than old enough to cross the street alone, but then what did he know? All he wanted to do was get the dog walked, buy breakfast, and get home.
Slater watched Nicki and D.O.G. play and wondered if he’d blinked and missed winter. It felt like spring. Nicki had dropped her coat on a
bench so Slater picked it up and watched her and D.O.G. race around the park.
He took a deep breath—fresh air filled his lungs, and heightened the sense of expectation. His blood buzzed through his body. It was a perfect day. If the weather report was accurate, the mercury would hit seventy and he wasn’t going to miss his last chance for a comfortable ride.
“Come on, Nicki. Time to go. Patrice is going to pick you up to go to see the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum today.”
Nicki ran all out toward him. He held out a hand and caught her.
“It’s a museum.” She strung the word out like a piece of taffy until it broke. “Do I have to go?”
“The Intrepid is awesome—it’s an Essex class aircraft carrier. You’ll get to check out the whole ship. Plus there’s the space shuttle, and they even have a Russian space capsule. It’s a really cool museum.”
“If you think it’s so great, how come you’re not going?”
Smart-ass kid. “I wasn’t invited.”
Nicki took his hand. “That’s okay. You don’t need an invitation. You can come with us.”
She tugged him toward the gate and he wondered how the hell he’d get out of it. Then he realized he didn’t want to—it would be fun to check out the Intrepid, to be on board a ship again, even if it was only a museum. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t go with them and then take off early if he was bored. And Patrice might be happy to have a little help. He didn’t think he could handle watching a three- and five-year-old, but he’d been helping out with Nicki this morning and he hadn’t lost her yet. “How about I take you to Patrice’s house? We can take my bike if it’s okay with Pop, and then we can ask Patrice if she wouldn’t mind me going along.”
Nicki shot him a look that told him she was way too proud of herself. She thought she’d played him like Parcheesi and what the hell, he’d let her bask in the illusion.
Nicki had one hand on D.O.G.’s head while she skipped all the way to the apartment. For once she looked like every other normal kid. The kind of kid with a real family, the kind of kid who never went hungry or wondered when she’d eat again. The kind of kid who knew the meaning of love and trust and security. For just a few minutes, they both could bask in that illusion.
CHAPTER 5
Rocki took the last slug of coffee, stepped up to Patrice and Francis’s house, and let herself in. “Patrice, it’s me.”
Patrice bopped out of the kitchen, and it was a bop, followed by a shimmy, and sometimes a sway—the woman looked like she moved to a Motown beat that played on a continuous loop in her head. She didn’t walk, she didn’t saunter, she did a modified conga.
Patrice wiped her hands on a towel. “I’m just putting together a few snacks for the trip.” She stopped talking, walked up to Rocki, and eyed her new boots. “Uh-huh.” She placed her hands on her hips and struck an irritated pose. “So, girlfriend, what’s the problem?”
Rocki did her best to look bored. “No problem. I just saw these in a window and had to have them.”
“Right. So nothing had you running out for emergency retail therapy? You said you were going to work this morning; that’s why we’re going at noon. You didn’t have time to shop, remember?”
“I didn’t shop.”
“Yeah, so tell me what’s in the bag?”
Shit. Rocki was tempted to hide the bag behind her back but it was already too late. “Just a few ribbons I thought the girls would like for their hair.”
“Hm-hmm, yeah, that’s not shoppin’ all right.”
Rocki let out a breath and prayed for strength. “So, I’m blocked—nothing I wrote worked. I was just making a hash out of the whole piece. I had to get out. Shopping is not a crime. I paid for everything—I even paid way too much for these boots, but you have to admit they’re gorgeous.”
Patrice cocked her hip and looked down her nose. “Girlfriend, you best be careful because you’re in for a shock.”
“I already know what the boots cost me. It’s no longer a shock.”
“That man affects you like the moon affects the tide, and you don’t even know each other—yet. But you will. I have a feeling you definitely will.”
“I will not.” Her retail therapy had served its purpose. She’d hardly thought about Slater since she started. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She’d thought about him, but she hadn’t pictured him naked—not in the last hour.
“Ha, you didn’t even have to ask what man. You and I both knew who we were talking about. Just sayin’.” Patrice gathered the kids and helped them with their backpacks. She opened the door, ushered them out, and stepped onto the front stoop before looking over her shoulder. “Rocki, are you coming?”
No, but damn, she wanted to. She practiced her deep breathing. Maybe she needed more oxygen to the brain. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
The door closed—yeah, she needed a minute. A minute to finish putting herself together. The kids squealed in the front yard and she knew Nicki must have arrived.
The pumpkin orange boots were drool-worthy but were slouching so she tugged them over the knees of her black skinny jeans. She’d brought her black leather jacket to wear over her long-sleeved T-shirt even though she didn’t need it. It rounded out the outfit, and who knew how long the freakishly warm weather would stick around. She checked her lipstick in the mirror by the door, ran a hand through her hair, making the top stand up, and hoped there’d be a few sailors on board the USS Intrepid. Maybe a man in uniform would replace the vision of the one she’d been picturing with and without clothes.
Rocki opened the door, looked out, shook her head, and blinked, hoping the vision in front of her was just the result of her extremely overactive imagination. But this one was different—in this one, Slater was dressed. She rubbed her eyes only to open them and see the very man she’d been trying to erase from her mind since last night. “What are you doing here?”
Nicki bounced beside him. “Slater’s coming with us, but he’s going to have to ride his motorcycle since there’s not enough room in the car. I want to ride with him, but he said no.”
Slater’s eyes traveled the length of Rocki’s body and he took his time, hitting all the highlights, and sending a trail of warmth all the way from her head to her toes. “Nice boots.”
“Thanks.” She hadn’t realized she’d stopped midway down the stoop, so she started walking again. “I didn’t know you were invited.”
“It was a last-minute thing.” His eyes homed in on hers and the quirk of his lips told her he’d planned this. “Nicki wanted me to come, and Patrice was nice enough to include me.”
Patrice stood beside him wearing her this-is-going-to-be-so-entertaining grin. “I’ve always found it helpful not to let the kids outnumber the adults. Now we’re even. Since Francis was supposed to go with us before he got called into work, we even have an extra ticket.”
Rocki pasted what she hoped would pass for a smile on her face and did her best to inject cheer into her voice—she never had a problem when she was voice acting, but looking at Slater made her feel anything but cheerful. “Lucky us.” She averted her eyes and walked right past him toward the car.
Rocki held the door open for the girls and couldn’t believe Pete let Nicki ride with him. If Bree found out, there’d be more than one skillet flying.
Patrice buckled Callie in and then looked over the top of the car at Rocki. “He sure looks good straddling that bike.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Rocki got into the car and ignored both Slater’s and Patrice’s annoying laughter. She wanted to strangle Patrice, but she couldn’t do it in front of the kids and Patrice knew it. She’d just avoid him the rest of the day.
Slater started his bike and the purr of the engine slid over her—it wasn’t one of those obnoxiously loud Harleys; it was a either a classic or was made to look like one. It was hard to tell since the bike wa
s in pristine condition. It had beautiful lines and as much charisma as its owner. A powerful machine made for a powerful man. A dangerous combination.
He waved and took off ahead of them. Maybe they’d get there and lose him. Maybe she could just take one of the girls and either take off ahead or lag far behind—anything to avoid spending the day with Slater.
• • •
An eternity later, Rocki climbed down the gangplank and held on to Cassie’s hand.
Cassie looked up at Rocki and gave her a smile that matched her momma’s—a little bit sweet, a little bit evil, but Cassie’s evil tendencies weren’t as well developed or effective. Still, at five, the kid was fishing for tasty information. “So what did you learn, Rocki?”
She’d learned that there wasn’t a ship large enough for both her and Slater. But she couldn’t say that. “I learned the Intrepid is an aircraft carrier and it’s really long.”
“Mine’s longer. I was on the USS Ronald Reagan.” Slater’s breath brushed Rocki’s ear and his deep voice sent her pulse skittering. “I hear size matters.”
They’d been on the ship for a couple hours and every time Rocki turned around, Slater was there. Every passage they went through, Slater helped her over. Every retired sailor they’d met, Slater had made an impression. The whole ex-navy thing must have been tattooed on his forehead in invisible ink seen only by fellow sailors. Maybe it was the ease with which he moved around the ship, or the way he held himself. Whatever it was had all her girly parts standing at attention, and a few even gave him a salute. That was so not good.
Nicki skipped past Rocki on her way to the car, Patrice and Callie followed, and Slater brought up the rear.
Rocki turned to face him and walked backward toward the car. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
A slow half smile came to his lips—as if a full smile would have been just too much trouble. “I was wondering if you were free. I thought we could grab a bite, maybe go for a ride through the park. It’s probably the last nice day we’ll have until spring, and I don’t know about you, but I’d like to enjoy it. What do you say?”
