by Marie Force
“But you’re not focusing on him, are you?”
“Not at the moment. I just feel like I’m missing something—something huge that’s staring me right in the face.”
He reached for her hand and drew her out of the chair and into his lap. “What you need,” he said, massaging the tension from her shoulders, “is some time away from the case, some TLC and some sleep.”
“Mmm,” Sam said with a sigh. “You’re good at that. If things don’t work out for you in the Senate, you might find work as a masseuse.”
Nick laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Remember how you solved Julian’s case? How it all came together while you were sleeping?”
“In the hospital with my head throbbing from a concussion and my hairline on fire with forty stitches.” They’d both been injured in a car crash that occurred after gang members shot at them. “Maybe you should knock me over the head rather than giving me a massage.”
“The point is you need to step back from it to gain some perspective.”
His talented fingers drew a moan from her. “So no knock on the head?”
“Nope.”
The doorbell rang, drawing Sam back to reality.
“That’ll be your wedding planner,” he said.
She moaned again. “I really have to do this right now?”
He nudged her off his lap and stood. “Remember, this was your big idea.”
“I already hate her.”
“I already feel sorry for her.”
“Awww, I love you too.”
Laughing, he nudged her toward the door.
Standing on their doorstep was the tiniest pixie of a woman Sam had ever seen.
The pixie extended her hand. “Shelby Faircloth, at your service,” she said. Her Southern accent was deep and charming. Even though she had to be in her early forties, she could’ve passed for twenty-five.
Sam always felt like an Amazon next to tiny perfect blondes like Shelby and Christina Billings.
“Come in,” Nick said. “Can I get you anything? A glass of wine maybe?”
“Oh, I’d love that,” Shelby said. “It’s been a really long day.”
While he went to get the wine, Sam took a moment to study Tinker Bell. She wore a pink suit and sky-high pink stiletto heels that reminded Sam of those favored by Assistant U.S. Attorney Charity Miller. On another woman, the abundance of pink might’ve looked ridiculous. On Shelby Faircloth, it just worked.
“I can’t believe we’ve never met before,” Nick said as he handed Shelby a glass of pinot grigio.
“I don’t get out to the farm very often,” she said, referring to the O’Connor’s Leesburg home. “But I see Lizbeth and Royce socially and occasionally have the pleasure of running into her parents. I know there’s nothing I can say to ease your grief, but I was so very saddened by John’s death.”
“Thank you,” Nick said. “It was a terrible loss for all of us.”
“I can’t imagine.” Shelby took another sip of her wine and then put the glass on the table. “Well, you only gave me thirty minutes to convince you to hire me, so I’d better not waste any time. Now if I had my druthers and could do anything I wanted for you two, I’d have the service at St. John’s, the Church of the Presidents, with a reception immediately following at the newly renovated Hay-Adams. I can picture you, hand in hand, dashing across H Street with the White House in the background.” She sat back in her chair and sighed, caught up in her own vision. “Old Washington, classic, timeless. Just like the two of you.”
Sam and Nick exchanged glances. While she wanted to barf at Shelby’s description of them, she had to admit she could see the wedding just the way Shelby described it and the vision wasn’t totally repulsive.
“What do you think?” Shelby asked.
“I’m intrigued,” Nick said. “You can make this classic, timeless wedding happen in six weeks’ time?”
“Oh, absolutely. The whole town will be clamoring for a piece of this one.”
“And you’d keep all that clamoring far, far away from us?” Sam asked.
“As far away as humanly possible. That’s what you’d be hiring me to do.”
“How much would we be paying you to run interference for us?” Sam asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nick said. “Whatever it takes to make it as stress-free and perfect as possible, I’ll pay it.”
Sam wondered if he had lost his mind. “Wait a minute—”
He leaned over to kiss the words right off her lips. “We’ll fight about that later.”
“Aww,” Shelby said, “you two are even cuter than you seem on TV.”
That earned her a glare from Sam.
“Mentioning our cuteness will not gain you favor with the bride,” Nick said with a smile.
Shelby made a poor attempt to curb her grin and stood up. “Duly noted. I don’t want to outstay my welcome. Shall I send y’all an estimate along with ideas for flowers and some of the other details I have in mind? In the meantime, you can check out my website for photos from other weddings I’ve done, testimonials, references, the works.”
She and Nick exchanged cards.
“Sounds good,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Are both the venues you suggested handicapped accessible?” Sam asked.
“Absolutely. I never would’ve proposed them otherwise.”
“Will you mind if I call you Tinker Bell?”
Shelby laughed. “No problem at all. I like to think of myself as a magician of sorts.”
“That’s exactly what we need right now.”
Shelby shook hands with Sam and Nick. “It was so great to meet you both. I promise if you hire me, you’ll have a wedding they’ll talk about for years to come.”
Sam wasn’t at all sure how she felt about that.
Nick saw her out and joined Sam on the sofa. “So? What’d you think?”
“I still can’t believe you got Tinker Bell to plan our wedding.”
Nick cuffed her jaw. “How about St. John’s and the Hay?”
“You don’t want to get married in a Catholic church?” She’d been surprised to note at John’s funeral that Nick had obviously spent a lot of time in church.
“With you not being Catholic, St. John’s would be less complicated,” he said. “I can’t picture you going through the marriage retreat the Catholics would want us to do.”
Sam made a face at that. “I bet even the Catholics would make an exception for the dashing Senator Cappuano.”
“Maybe, but I’m fine with St. John’s. Episcopal is close enough.”
“I’m worried about a media circus.”
“We can handle that. I’m sure Shelby is an expert at such things.”
“I liked what she said about the church and hotel being handicapped accessible. Shows she did her homework.”
“I thought the same thing, but we don’t have to decide anything right away. We can meet with a couple of other wedding planners before we pick one.”
“We have six weeks, Nick. How much of that time do you suggest we spend interviewing wedding planners?”
“So we should just go with her?”
“I want to see the estimate first.”
“I don’t care about what it costs. I don’t want you to worry about that.”
“You’re not paying for this whole thing. We’re splitting it.”
“I am paying for it, and we’re not splitting anything.”
“Whoa, Caveman Joe! Hold on just a minute!”
“John left me all that money,” he said, referring to the two-million-dollar life insurance policy he’d been shocked to learn John had directed his way. “I can’t imagine any better use for some of it than buying my best girl a bang-up wedding that’ll make her forget she was ever married before.”
All the wind puffed out of Sam’s sails. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“I’m spoiling for a fight and then you go and say some
thing like that and all I want to do is kiss you.”
His smug grin should’ve made her mad, but she just loved him so damned much. “Don’t let me stop you.”
She leaned in and set out to blow his mind with a kiss he’d never forget.
Chapter 14
His heart pounding and his lungs burning from exertion, Freddie flopped onto his back and reached for Elin to bring her with him. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
“It’s official,” he said when he could speak again.
She nudged his nipple with the tip of her finger. “What is?”
“I’m officially addicted to you.” He rolled on his side and cupped her breast, watching in fascination as her pierced nipple hardened. “Can’t get enough.” In truth, having sex with her was becoming a borderline obsession that had him worried—thanks to his mother and Sam who had planted all kinds of doubts in his head. Maybe they were right. When he tried to remember how he used to pass his time before he started spending every night burning up the sheets with Elin he came up totally empty.
“I must be addicted to you too, because I can’t get enough either,” she said, kissing her way from his chest to his belly.
Freddie sucked in a sharp deep breath when he realized her intent. A minute ago he would’ve guessed they were done for the night, but his recently satisfied libido roared back to life when she wrapped her talented lips around his shaft.
He clutched the sheet and gave himself over to her. She applied just the right amount of suction and tongue. Then she squeezed his balls and almost sent him into yet another climax. She surprised him when she suddenly straddled him and took him in.
Whereas the last time had been fast and frantic, this time she took it slow, teasing and tormenting him until he was on the verge of begging. He gripped her hips, held her still and surged into her, coming with a roar.
She slumped down on top of him, and he wrapped his arms around her.
All night long, he’d been nervous about broaching the subject of the dinner party. Now that he could feel her starting to inch toward sleep, he couldn’t put it off any longer. “I was thinking…”
“About?”
“Getting you and my mom together so you can get to know each other better.”
He felt her stiffen in his arms the instant before she shifted off him.
“What?” he asked.
She drew the sheet up and over her. “Let’s not do that.”
“Why not?”
“Why can’t we just be about this?” She gestured to the bed.
“About what? Sex, sex and more sex?”
“What’s wrong with that? Aren’t we having a good time together? Why does it have to involve other people?”
“Because. She’s my mother, and you’re my…well, girlfriend. I want you two to get along.”
“I’m hardly your girlfriend, Freddie.”
“Yes, you are.” Once again his heart beat faster, but this time it was due to the odd bolt of fear that traveled through him. “Why would you say that?”
“Um, maybe because ever since we started fucking, we haven’t been anywhere or done anything—except fuck, that is. I’d say that makes me your fuck buddy rather than your girlfriend.”
Put off by her crude language, he sat up in bed. “That’s not true! I took you to Skip’s wedding. I offered to take you to dinner—”
She rested a finger over his lips. “We’re both doing exactly what we want to be doing. Just don’t make it into something it’s not.”
Disentangling himself from her, he got up and went to find his jeans.
“Where’re you going?”
Trying to control his anger, he pulled on his pants and zipped them, not bothering with the button.
“Freddie, come on. Don’t go.”
“I don’t want a fuck buddy,” he said, making an effort to keep his tone even. “I want a girlfriend. I want a real girlfriend. I want this too.” He gestured to the bed. “But that’s not all I want. So unless you’re up for more than this, I’m done.” As he said the words, he had the presence of mind to wonder if he could really do without the sex. He was, after all, addicted.
“You don’t mean that.”
He swallowed hard. “Yes, I do.”
Looking over at her as he tugged on his shirt, he said, “I’m making dinner on Friday night, and I’ve already invited my mother. If you’re interested in a real relationship, come to dinner. If you’re not, well, then it’s been nice, but it’s over.”
Her blue eyes flashed with anger. “So you’re giving me an ultimatum? Have dinner with your mother or we’re done?”
He sat on the bed, reached for her hand and linked his fingers with hers. “It’s not about my mother, Elin. It’s about me wanting more than a sex-only relationship. Maybe that works for you, but it’s just not who I am.” As he said the words, Freddie realized this was exactly what his mother and Sam had been trying to tell him.
“They’ve gotten to you,” she said, tuning into his thoughts. “That’s what this is really about.”
Shaking his head, he leaned in to kiss her. “I care about you. I enjoy being with you, but I need more than this.”
“You can’t just change the rules midstream. That’s hardly fair to me.”
“It’s terribly unfair. I agree.” With one last squeeze, he released her hand and got up to find his boots. “I hope I see you Friday night—any time after seven.”
“I won’t be there.”
He ached with regret, but he had no doubt he was doing the right thing for himself. “That’s your choice, but I really hope you’ll come. I’d miss you if I never saw you again.”
“You’d miss the sex,” she muttered.
“I’d miss everything,” he said as he donned his coat. With one last long look at her, he left her pouting in bed and walked out of her apartment—maybe for the last time. Every guy he knew would call him ten kinds of crazy for walking away from a woman like her who wanted a sex-only relationship. But Freddie wasn’t most guys and he never had been. That much he knew for sure.
How would he live without the sex he’d come to crave? Well, that was another matter altogether.
The words, once he started, kept coming and coming. For more than an hour, the normally reticent Tommy Gonzales talked to Christina about Peter Gibson, about his role in the search that yielded enough evidence to put the guy away for life, about his memories of the day his friend and colleague had nearly been murdered by her ex-husband, about his great fear that Gibson would be released from jail to come at Sam again, and about how he and Detective Cruz planned to redouble their efforts to find the person who shot Sam’s father. He talked about his baby son, who he would name Alejandro, after the baby’s grandfather, but would call him Alex. A child growing up in America should have an American name.
Lying next to him in bed, holding his hand between both of hers, Christina listened without interruption.
Finally, he seemed to run out of words. He turned his head so he could see her, his expression sheepish and adorable. “I’m talking your ear off.”
“I don’t mind.” His earlier profession of love was still settling with her. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure this was really happening. For years, she’d pined after John O’Connor who hadn’t even known she was alive—as anything other than a good friend and dedicated employee, that is.
And now this…. Despite the differences in their backgrounds, despite the baby who might be entering his life, despite their busy, unpredictable jobs, she and Tommy had each other, and Christina had never felt more lucky or certain that she had found the one for her.
His beautiful brown eyes were so somber, so serious. Before the call from Lori, Christina had never seen them that way before. “What’re you thinking?”
“I have to fight for him, you know?”
“Of course you do.”
“I just keep worrying about what I’ll do if I win.”
She pushed herself up on one
elbow. “What do you mean?”
“When I say I know nothing about babies, I mean nothing. Maybe he’s better off with her.”
“You know that’s not true.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “And just like any new parent, you’ll figure out what you need to know when you need to know it.”
“But what if I break him or something? Yesterday when she handed him to me…?”
Her lips quivering, Christina nodded.
“That was the first time I’ve held a baby since my nephew was born, and that was years ago.”
Trying to suppress the urge to laugh, Christina placed her hands on his face. “Tommy, honey, you won’t break him.” She brushed a kiss over his lips. “You’ll be great with him. I promise.”
“What if I never get the chance? She’s so pissed about social services showing up at her house.”
“You’re his father. You have rights, just like she does.”
“What if I’m not really his father? Until we get the DNA test results back, I won’t know for sure.”
Christina touched her finger to the dimple on his chin, following with a kiss. “The proof is in the dimple.”
He drew her down so she rested on top of him. “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?”
The vulnerability she heard in his voice and saw on his face touched her heart. “I wouldn’t expect you to do anything else.”
Sifting his fingers through her hair, he studied her intently. “I couldn’t deal with this without you.”
“Yes, you could.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to.”
Christina rested her head on his chest and listened to the strong beat of his heart, thrilled to know he’d given it to her.
His hands traveled from her shoulders to her back to her bottom.
Her entire body tingled with awareness. No one had ever made her feel the way he did. “Tommy,” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“You really love me?”
His arms tightened around her. “I really do. You really love me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the best thing to happen to me in a really long time. Maybe ever…”
Christina sighed. “Me too.”
He tilted her chin and kissed her.
