Her Son's Hero

by Vicki Essex

  Pathetic. This was her life. Sean was growing up, and she couldn’t stop him.

  And then she glimpsed a little of what her parents might have felt.

  Fiona curled up into a ball. Her world felt as if it was shrinking around her, leaving her fully exposed. Was this what the rest of her life was going to be like after Sean left for college? Seven years would pass in a blink, just as the first ten had.

  She found herself at the living room window, scrutinizing the fifty feet to Dom’s door as though it might be booby-trapped. A warm, inviting glow lit the house from within, beckoning her.

  He’s only here for a few more weeks. Take what you can.

  She stepped outside without a jacket or her purse, and crossed the street. Her flats were only half on as she flip-flopped up to Dom’s porch, barely a thought in her head as she knocked.

  Don’t leave me alone out here.

  Dom wrenched open the door. Bare-chested and sweaty, he was a fantasy of a man. And he just stood there, staring at her.

  “Hi.” Fiona greeted him breathlessly, but whatever else she was going to say left her.

  It didn’t matter, though. In the next instant, his hands were on her and she was kissing him, her babbling excuses cut off.

  He half dragged her into the house and kicked the door closed, sandwiching her between the wood and his hard body. As Dom swung her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom, she was vaguely aware that she’d lost one of her shoes either on the porch or on the street, or maybe somewhere in the house. The taste of him, salty and fresh, and the feel of his hands, obliterated any further thought.

  He broke for air. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice ragged. “I wanted to take this slow—”

  “There’ll be time for slow later.” Her hands trailed over his sculpted abs—hard and smooth and so perfectly perfect she thought she might cry. He was so solid, so real, so focused on her, and she didn’t want to let the moment go.

  He helped her undress him until he stood naked before her. She fell back on the king-size bed, studying his magnificent form boldly. He really was perfect—not bulky and awkwardly large-muscled, but long-limbed, with a strength that radiated from every inch of him. She was still fully clothed, but the way he looked at her, her dress might as well have been invisible.

  He climbed over her, pressing her into the mattress, his eyes never leaving hers. The tip of his tongue lingered in the hollow of her throat. His hot breath tickled her ear. Fiona squirmed, moaned as he traveled down, his hands cupping her breasts. He tugged the neckline of her dress aside to reveal one peaked, lace-covered nipple, and applied his skilled mouth. Then he focused his attention on the other breast, until she couldn’t stand the teasing anymore.

  “Dom!” she gasped, arching up as he inched her skirt past her hips to expose her belly. He was getting closer, but he wasn’t there. “I thought we’d do slow later!”

  She wanted hard, fast, brutal—wanted the building ache and torturous anticipation to end. And then she wanted it all over again.

  His smile was slow, intent, but full of promise. “I changed my mind.” He lowered himself, kissing her soft flesh, his breath melting her like butter. She felt the hard ridge of his teeth graze the band of her panties. And like an animal, he snarled and yanked them down with a jerk of his head.

  She pulled her dress off. Dom looked up, his eyes hazy. Any restraint he’d had was gone as he stripped her bra off.

  “Fiona…” he moaned.

  “Yes.”

  With one long, slow, powerful stroke, he was inside her.

  Ecstasy.

  That was the only word she had for the rest of the night. She’d never felt like this before, as if she was the only thing that mattered. She watched Dom through half-lidded eyes as he struggled to hold himself back. He breathed deeply, pressing his forehead against hers.

  “It’s been a while for me,” he admitted in a low rasp. She could feel every inch of him, setting off sparks in her belly.

  “Me, too.”

  He lifted himself off her slightly and looked into her face tenderly. He smiled and then lowered himself back down to kiss her.

  They loved each other repeatedly, with abandon. Over the next few hours, all they knew was the joy of man and woman. And Fiona knew she’d lost her heart to Dom.

  WHEN HER EYES FLUTTERED OPEN, sunlight poured in through windows that weren’t Fiona’s. She could hear birds singing. A warm breath stirred the hair at the nape of her neck, and the comforting weight of Dom’s arm was draped around her waist.

  She couldn’t stop smiling. Last night had been fantastic. It had been a long time…. Actually, she didn’t think anything in her past could really compare. Dom had been…wow.

  She glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight-thirty. With a sigh, she sat up in bed, searching for her undergarments.

  “Mmm…” Dom reached out and dragged his fingertips along her bare thigh. “You’re not going to leave me like this, are you?”

  There was no tension in Dom’s face or in his muscles. Contentment radiated from his limp form.

  Well, not quite limp, she realized as he turned over. The man was insatiable.

  “I have to pick Sean up from the Maddens’ at ten.” Tempted as she was to sleep in, she was still a mother. “I need to shower and get dressed. He’ll be waiting for me.”

  “You could shower here. I can lend you a T-shirt.” Dom cracked his eyes open.

  She smacked him on the arm. Last night had been mind-blowing, but she’d come over knowing what she was about. This was a one-off…okay, three- or four-off. Wasn’t it?

  “What are you going to tell him?” Dom asked.

  “Tell who?”

  “Sean.”

  She painted on an expression of innocence. “About what?”

  Dom raised an eyebrow.

  “He’s a little young for the birds and the bees. And I guarantee you he doesn’t want to hear about his mother’s sexploits.” She was trying to keep it light, but she knew what Dom was asking her. She didn’t think she could broach that right now.

  “I just want to know what to say if he catches his karate teacher making out with his mom,” Dom drawled in his morning-roughened N’Awlins accent. He propped himself up on one side and trailed his fingertips across her hip, along her rib cage, inching up to her breast. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands off her.”

  She pressed her palm over his hand and stopped him. “Dom…last night was great. I haven’t felt like that since…well…ever.”

  He smiled, but a pained look creased his brow. “But…?”

  “You’re leaving in a few weeks. I don’t want to give Sean any ideas that we’re…you know.” She couldn’t bring herself to articulate the thought.

  “Are you saying this was a one-time thing for you?”

  “Yes. No. I mean…” Sudden tears burned in the back of her throat. She refused to make more of this than what it was—a well-deserved hookup with an incredibly gorgeous man.

  “Hey, what are the tears for?” Dom enfolded her in his arms, hugging her against his bare chest. She felt embarrassed for letting him see her emotions. “I’m not going anywhere right now.”

  “But you will—”

  “Shh…” He kissed her and she leaned into his warmth despite herself. “One day at a time, okay? You’re crazy if you think I’d let you walk away without giving us a chance.”

  Her chances were slim to none compared to the career he’d worked all his life toward. Dom would be a champion. She was certain of it. And when the day came that he left Salmon River and her and Sean behind, she knew he’d do it without looking back.

  “I have to go.” She got up and hurried out of the bedroom. She couldn’t let Dom talk her into something more involved. They simply weren’t meant to be together.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TWO DAYS LATER, Dom jogged to the dojo late in the morning, his muscles sore, his joints stiff from more than just training. He was tense inside,
as if a cord braided through his emotions were stretched tautly from neck to navel. After months of self-imposed abstinence—part of his training regimen—his body should have been working like a loose, albeit well-oiled, machine. But the truth was, he was more frustrated than ever.

  He hadn’t been able to speak to Fiona since that morning-after scene. She’d deked in and out of the dojo to drop Sean off and pick him up, barely making eye contact. Dom had to give her space and time. She had to see she wasn’t just some random conquest.

  He recognized her concerns, of course. Training and fighting took him all over the world. He couldn’t exactly make Fiona leave her life behind. Uproot her son constantly. Especially now that the boy was making friends here in Salmon River. Dom wouldn’t want that, either, if he were Sean’s father.

  But he already felt like a father to the boy. Cared for him. Just as he cared for Fiona.

  Dammit, he was in love.

  He didn’t know how he was going to solve this. He had precious little time left here. Maybe it would be better if he just…left. Left them behind.

  His heart constricted at the thought.

  As he walked into the dojo, Hector and the others turned. It looked as if they’d been in a serious conversation; their faces resembled stone masks. “We just got a call from Katy DiMartino,” Hector said.

  Bruno’s wife.

  Dom swallowed. Cold blanketed him. “What’s happened?”

  “Dom…it’s not good. Bruno had a seizure last night. The doctors say he might never wake up.”

  The room spiraled away from him. Dear God… Dom had been the one to put Bruno in the hospital. He’d be the one who made Katy a widow. And all this time, he hadn’t even called or sent a card.

  “It’s not too late to pay your respects, man.” Kyle sidled up next to him. “Listen, we have flights booked. Joel arranged it all this morning as soon as we heard.”

  Dom’s feet remained frozen. “I…I can’t go. The dojo—”

  “The dojo can stay closed for a few days, Dom. The students will understand.”

  “But, Sensei Miwa—”

  “You’re making excuses, Dom.” Brett crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanna regret not saying your piece if Bruno bites the dust?”

  Dom squeezed his temples. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Bruno died and he wasn’t there for him. But what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t face the wife of the man he’d brutalized. He couldn’t look Katy in the eye and tell her he was sorry for killing her husband. Sorry wouldn’t make him better. Sorry wouldn’t do anything to help….

  “I…I can’t.” He looked out the window to the street.

  “Dom.” Hector seized him by the shoulders. “This is your problem right here. You have to face this. You’re never going to be able to fight again if this is riding your back.”

  “He doesn’t have a lot of time, man,” Kyle said. “And our flight’s in a couple of hours.”

  “Shut the dojo down. Just put a sign in the window. Call your sensei and let him know what’s happening. He’ll understand.”

  Dom knew Hector was right, but he dreaded making the call to Mako. He was putting his needs above those of the dojo. What kind of son and teacher was he to do that?

  I’m sorry, Sensei.

  “Okay. Let me go pack a bag.”

  THE DOJO WAS CLOSED?

  Fiona stood outside Five Elements, Sean at her side. “Where do you think Dom went?” her son asked, frowning.

  About a dozen different scenarios played out in her mind. Maybe he’d decided she wasn’t worth sticking around for. That Salmon River could do without him. After all, the championship match was just around the corner, and she could imagine Dom was probably fed up with all the babysitting he’d had to do. Was it so inconceivable that he would have simply closed shop and skipped town?

  Yes. Because she knew Dom was an honorable man, and would never leave anyone in the lurch without good reason. “The sign just says he has a family emergency.”

  “Hey, Fiona, Sean.” Patricia Madden walked up, smiling. Her son, Scott, bumped fists with Sean, as Patricia took in the darkened dojo and read the sign. “Oh.”

  “I’m sure it’s only temporary.” Fiona realized she was trying to convince herself.

  “I hope so. Scotty settles down much faster on nights he has karate.” The two women shared a chuckle. The martial arts classes certainly were great for wearing the students out.

  “Mom, can I go to Scott’s to play video games?” Sean asked. He turned to Patricia. “I mean, excuse me, Mrs. Madden. Would it be all right if I came over?”

  “Please, Mom?” Scott begged.

  “Of course. You’re welcome anytime, Sean.” She touched Fiona’s elbow. “He’s so polite. Why don’t you come by for dinner, too, Fiona? I’m making lasagna.”

  “Tempting, but I have a whole bunch of bookkeeping and chores I really have to get to.”

  “Life of a mother. Of course. We’ll take a rain check.”

  Fiona saw her son off and drove home, thoughts of Dom weighing heavily on her mind. Maybe he’d left, gone back to New Orleans or Las Vegas, or to see another trainer. Not that she’d know, since she’d studiously avoided him the past few days, saying barely two words to him at the dojo.

  At his house, no one answered. From the front window, she could see his gym equipment inside the darkened den, so unless he was having someone else move his things out, she didn’t think he’d abandoned them.

  She crossed the street. When she reached her porch and opened the door, she realized she’d left her door unlocked. Again. Nobody seemed to lock their doors here. She was most surprised at herself. That she was beginning to act like a local. That locking your house up didn’t matter.

  Except that this time, it did.

  “Hi, honey.”

  The coarse drawl sent her heart rocketing into her throat. Fiona spun around.

  Framed in the doorway, his massive breadth blocking the sunlight from her kitchen windows, stood her ex-husband, Mitch.

  His smile left her cold. “I’m home.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Fiona forced herself to hold her ground. “How did you find me?”

  “Your parents gave me your address.” Mitch watched her steadily, the sunlight turning his light green eyes a shade of sulfur. His black hair curled slightly at the thick juncture between his neck and shoulders. He’d put on quite a few pounds, and all of it was beefy muscle, easily visible through his faded jeans and worn black T-shirt.

  “You’re supposed to be in jail.”

  “I’m out on parole.” He edged toward her, but Fiona took a corresponding step away, and he immediately halted his advance. Something like hurt crept into his eyes. “Where’s Sean?”

  “At a friend’s.” In a tone that brooked no argument, she reminded him, “You gave me full custody.”

  “I know.” He closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t have. It was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.”

  This was not the Mitch she knew. He never admitted to wrongdoing. What game was he playing? “You need to leave.”

  “Look, you have the right to be mad.” His tone vibrated with controlled patience. “I should have called first to let you know I was coming. I shouldn’t have just walked in, even though the door was unlocked.” He chose his words carefully, enunciating them as if he were reading them off a cue card.

  He tried for a smile. “How have you been?”

  “It’s none of your business,” she snapped, and took the offensive. “You’re trespassing. Get out.”

  “I just need five minutes.”

  “I don’t have any money,” she said. “So you might as well—”

  “Goddammit, Fi, I don’t want any money!” At his explosion of temper, Fiona wrenched the front door open. She was not going to let this man trap her in her own home. The first lesson of self-defense she’d learned was to simply get away from the conflict. But she’d be damned if she turned her
back on this man for even one second. And she didn’t want him to think she was weak and afraid.

  She stopped on the threshold, one foot out the door, waiting for his move.

  Mitch’s thunderous expression eased. She heard him counting backward from ten, muttering with each exhalation.

  “I came here,” he stated after his countdown, “because I need to apologize.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He closed his eyes again. “I need you to forgive me,” he said. “You and Sean both. Father Elba—the priest I’ve been getting counseling from—said I can’t move on until you guys forgive me. Until I forgive myself.”

  Fiona balked. She wanted to believe Mitch was being sincere, but she didn’t want to be suckered into his act, either. She couldn’t trust a single word he said.

  Was she beyond forgiving her ex-husband? Four years was a long time to hold a grudge. But the past sometimes felt as fresh as yesterday. She couldn’t forget the years of fear, of walking on eggshells around him. And she couldn’t dismiss the way Mitch had deceived everyone around him.

  Sean had been as much a victim as she had, but she didn’t have the right to deny her son this opportunity to see his father. Yet she didn’t want him to get hurt, either. “I need to think about this.”

  “Fiona, please. He’s my son.”

  She clenched her fists and pointed at Mitch. “You threw away any claim you had to Sean when you said all those horrible things to him. You told him he wasn’t even your kid.” The knot of anger choking her tightened. “You terrified him, Mitch. You yelled at him and threatened him and you threatened me.” Her anger was fully stoked now, white-hot and ready to immolate her ex.

  “I know what I did,” he said angrily. “I was wrong to do it. I can’t say I’m sorry enough. Ever. It probably doesn’t even mean anything to you now. But I need to see Sean and let him know how wrong I was. I need to ask for forgiveness.”