Sex was God’s best medicine for hours of fatigue and anger. It started the healing process. And it sure as hell took care of any extra adrenaline that might keep you from being able to fall asleep.
“She’s really okay?” he asked, trying not to wonder if Max had ever kissed and licked his way across the curve of her waist. “I heard she needed stitches.”
“In her hand,” Max said. He ran his own hand through his hair as if just suddenly aware of how disheveled he looked. “Why the hell are you here, Starrett?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I just…I heard about it, and I thought…I had to see her. I’m glad she’s okay.”
Max nodded. He had eyes that were so dark brown, you couldn’t tell the difference between the iris and the pupil. Sam had always thought of Max as calculating. Manipulative. Brilliant. Cold. But right now his eyes were warm and filled with empathy and understanding.
And Sam could imagine it. For the first time, he could actually picture Alyssa falling in love with Max Bhagat. Up to this moment, it had seemed impossible and absurd. How could she be with him? How could she be happy with someone like Max?
But now he could see that they were alike, Alyssa and Max. They were both a curious mix of hot and cool, of hidden emotions and carefully built facades.
Shit, Max probably understood her in ways that Sam never would have, not if they’d stayed together for a hundred years.
And a hundred-year relationship hadn’t exactly been part of Alyssa’s agenda, had it now? What was it she’d said to him last time they’d sat down to talk? Even if they’d stayed together, if life and Mary Lou hadn’t intervened, their love affair wouldn’t have lasted more than a month or two. Yeah, she’d said, I definitely would have gotten sick of you.
Not so Max, apparently.
“How’s your wife?” Max asked. “And it’s a daughter you’ve got, right? What is she now, twelve months old?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I know. I shouldn’t have come.”
Max nodded, too, and started to close the door. “I won’t tell her you were here.”
TWENTY-THREE
IT WAS LATE in the morning before Ihbraham’s truck pulled up in front of the Robinsons’ house—hours later than he usually arrived to start work.
By the time he came, Mary Lou had already brought Donny his mail. She’d gone back and forth to his house about three different times, finding as many excuses as she could, bringing him a book she’d picked up at the library’s yearly sale, bringing him the bag of burgers she’d brought home for him from work…
How many days ago had that been? It was back when he wasn’t answering his door at all. But she’d put the sack in the refrigerator. Surely it had kept. And hell, finally giving it to him was a reason to go over there—to go back outside and be there when Ihbraham finally showed.
Eventually she ran out of reasons to keep bugging Donny, and she gave up and just brought Haley’s playpen out into the front yard.
Maybe it wouldn’t seem too obvious that she was waiting for Ihbraham to appear.
Yeah, and maybe Sam would come home from work tonight and announce that he was leaving the SEALs to join the San Diego Ballet.
Mary Lou sat up as Ihbraham got out of the cab of his truck. He looked at her—he definitely saw her sitting there on her front steps—but he didn’t even wave. He just went to the back of his truck and lifted a large potted shrubbery—some kind of pretty flowering plant in an ornate clay container—from the bed. He carried it effortlessly to the Robinsons’ front stoop and set it down.
As she watched, he went around to the hose that was attached at the side of the house, turned on the water, brought the hose to the front, watered the plant, brought the hose back, turned off the water, re-coiled the hose.
And then he returned to his truck without another glance in her direction and climbed back behind the wheel.
The engine turned over with a roar, and he drove away.
Mary Lou was up on her feet, heading out to the street before she could stop herself. “Hey!”
He must’ve been watching her in his rearview mirror, because his brake lights went on, and the truck stopped.
He just sat there for a moment, absolutely still.
And Mary Lou stood there, watching him, her heart in her throat.
His back-up lights came on as he put the truck into reverse. The engine whined as he pulled all the way back, until he was alongside of her.
Mary Lou checked to make sure Haley was still happily engaged with her pile of toys before she moved closer to Ihbraham’s open window.
“I made some iced tea,” she told him. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into taking a break and having a glass?”
He shook his head. “Thank you, but no. I can’t.”
Can’t. “Wow,” she said. “So that’s it, huh? I don’t put out, and you don’t want to be my friend anymore? Is that what’s going on here, Ihbraham?”
Ihbraham looked out the front windshield of his truck and sighed, no doubt wishing that he hadn’t bothered to stop. “You know in your heart that that’s not true.”
“Well, what am I supposed to think?” She struggled not to cry. “You didn’t call me back yesterday. I mean, you completely went off the map. And today, it’s like you don’t even know me. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have enough friends to be able to take it lightly—you know, just go, ‘Oh, well’—when I lose one of them.”
“You will never lose me as a friend,” he said quietly. He turned and looked at her, his dark eyes intense. “That I can promise you.”
“Will you come to a meeting with me tonight, then?” she asked.
“I can’t,” he said.
“Can’t or won’t?”
He sighed. “I’ve agreed to meet with my brothers. At five o’clock. I won’t be back in San Diego until late.”
“Tomorrow night, then.”
Another sigh. “Tomorrow night I can’t, either.” He paused. “I mean, tomorrow night, I won’t.”
“Well, there we go,” she said. “I won’t ever lose you as a friend, except it sure as hell seems like you’re already gone. Thanks a bunch. Have a nice life.” She turned and started walking back toward Haley.
“My feelings for you continue to be inappropriate.” He spoke in a low voice, but it was loud enough to carry to her. “I’m struggling to do what I know is right instead of that which I all too humanly want.”
Of all the egotistical…“And, of course, I’m such a pushover that all you have to do is snap your fingers and I’ll fall into bed with you. Is that really what you think of me?” She moved back to his truck, aware that she wasn’t good at keeping her voice down when she was angry, and afraid of being overheard. “It takes two to tango, babycakes. I want to go to a meeting with you, period, the end. I assure you, I have no intention of making any side trips to the Sunny Daze hourly rate motel to fuck you blind.”
Ihbraham just looked at her with those eyes that reminded her so much of pictures she’d seen of Jesus. “You misunderstand,” he said. “I know you have no intention of…” He shook his head, with that strange little smile that was both sad and amused curling his lips. “The struggle is mine; I know this to be true. It’s a struggle of spirit as well as of flesh. I see you, and I want…” He sighed. “I believe it is wrong to want something so much—something that doesn’t belong to me, something that belongs to someone else.”
“This is America,” Mary Lou said. “Women don’t belong to men in America.”
“Yes,” he said, “they do.”
“Well, Lord,” she said. “If that’s what you think, then good riddance to you. You’re not someone I want as a friend anyway.”
“Are you not Sam’s wife?”
“Well, yes, but he’s my husband, too.”
“That’s different,” Ihbraham said.
“No, it is not,” she argued.
“Yes, it is,” he said. “Even here in America, the land of the
free. Sam is a little more free than you are. And you are both more free than I am.”
He glanced at his wristwatch, and Mary Lou knew it was really just a matter of seconds before he left. Lord help her, mad as she was at him, she didn’t want him to leave.
“Why don’t you come inside and have some iced tea and we can argue about this out of the heat?” she said. “Please?”
He sat there silently for several long moments, just looking at her. “You would invite me into your house?” he finally said.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” she countered.
“In some countries, such an offer would be considered an invitation to have sexual relations,” he told her. “An offer to enter a woman’s home, to be there alone with her—”
“Yeah, and in some countries the penalty for a woman who has sex with a man she’s not married to is death. The man gets a rap on the knuckles and the woman is beheaded. I don’t live in some countries, thank you very much,” she said. “And neither do you. My invitation was for iced tea. Don’t get weird on me now, Ihbraham.”
“You have never invited me inside your home before,” he pointed out.
“Okay,” she said. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m dying to have sex with you. Right on the living room rug. In front of my baby daughter, no less.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You know, I’d almost forgotten that you were a man. But apparently you’re just as stupid and hormone-crazed as the rest of them. And you’ve got some really dumb foreign ideas to boot. I thought you were an American.”
“I am.”
“Then act like one!” She marched away from his truck, to Haley’s playpen, scooping up her daughter before she turned back to look at him. “Just out of curiosity, is that really what it would take?” she asked. “For you to be friends with me again? A quickie while my husband’s at work and my daughter’s down for a nap?”
He shook his head. “Mary Lou—”
“Why don’t you come back in a couple of hours,” she said, “and see just how desperate I am for someone to stick around.”
He was looking at her as if he couldn’t tell whether or not she was kidding.
Trouble was, Mary Lou wasn’t quite sure herself.
“I’m sorry I upset you so much,” he said, and put his truck into gear.
She watched as he drove away.
The phone rang, and Mary Lou hurried inside the house out of force of habit.
Except, really, the only person she wanted to talk to had just rolled out of her life. Probably for good.
She would not cry. She would not cry. At least not until Haley took her nap.
Still, she had to take a deep breath before she picked up the phone. She tucked it between her shoulder and ear so she could use her hands to keep Haley from grabbing her earrings. “Hello?”
“Hey there, Mary Lou.”
God damn it. It was Insurance Bob. His timing stank, as usual. He was the last person she wanted to talk to right now.
“So am I going to be able to talk you into dinner tonight?” he asked. His voice got softer, sweeter. “I’d really love to see you, honey. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Dinner with Insurance Bob. Well, why the hell not? Mrs. U. was always willing to watch Haley in the evenings. Sam wouldn’t be back until late again and even if he did get home before her, he wouldn’t give a flying fuck. And as for Ihbraham…
Shoot, she might as well be with someone who liked her enough to actually do something about it. “Tell me where and when and I’ll meet you over there,” she told Bob.
“Oh, baby,” he said. “You just made my year.”
Commander Paoletti had looked hard at Muldoon when he’d first made his request to stand on the dais with the President and other VIPs during the SEAL demo.
Two Seahawks, each carrying a squad of men, were going to kick off the presentation. Those men, dressed in BDUs and combat vests, carrying a full arsenal of weapons, were going to fast-rope down to the parade ground. In a matter of seconds, they would rig an ancient antiaircraft launcher with enough explosives to create a controlled blast that would “put it out of commission.”
They would then be pulled back off the parade grounds via helo and SPIE rigging.
It would all take place inside of a few short minutes. And that was just to get the show—which included plenty of colored smoke and other whizbang insertion and extraction techniques—started.
They did a dry run of the President’s arrival, with the teams of Secret Service men and additional security under the command of Admiral Tucker all swarming the area. Also milling around were the members of the President’s staff who would be on hand. Commander Paoletti came and stood next to Muldoon and shook his head at the chaos.
Joan had just walked about a dozen yards away to get a little privacy for a call coming in on her cell, and the CO looked at her pointedly and then looked back at Muldoon.
“You know, when you first asked to be kept out of the helos for this thing, I thought your knee was bothering you again,” Paoletti said quietly. “I thought you were trying to avoid the fast-roping.”
Sliding forty feet down a rope from a helo and going immediately into a dead run had been tough on Muldoon’s knees before he’d been injured.
“No, sir,” Muldoon said. “I’m fine. I still have twinges, and I’m still using the brace, but I’m fully up to speed. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”
“I didn’t think you were lying, Lieutenant,” the CO said easily. “I thought you just conveniently forgot to tell me.”
“No, sir,” Muldoon said again.
“Yeah, I realize that now,” he said, glancing at Joan again. “I’m curious though. Most guys would’ve leapt at the chance to play hero. Show off a little.”
“I’m not going to impress anyone by jumping out of helicopters,” Muldoon told the commander. “I’m not exactly sure how I am going to impress…” Jeez, who was he kidding here? Just use her name. “…Joan, but believe me, sir, I’m working on it.”
He had decided to approach his entire relationship with Joan as if it were a mission with a “Do not fail” order. His plan so far was to spend the next few days as close to her as possible.
But no sex. That gigolo crack still stung. He had to make it clear to her that, in his eyes at least, their relationship was about way more than sex.
He’d realized last night, after he’d begged her to take him back to her room, that sex would only serve to make things even more complicated.
He’d realized a lot of things last night.
It had occurred to him then that as much as he wanted to spend all of the next three weeks in bed with Joan, that wasn’t going to get him what he really wanted.
And what he really wanted was a long-distance relationship. If that really was the only way they could make a relationship with two high-octane careers work, then dammit, he wanted to try. He wanted a chance at having something real with this incredible woman.
“If that’s the case, if you’re really determined, Muldoon, then she doesn’t stand a chance,” Paoletti said. “I’ll definitely be dancing at your wedding, kid.”
Wedding?
“Uh,” Muldoon said. “Well…”
Jeez, the CO actually thought that he and Joan…?
“Thanks,” Muldoon said. “Sir. I’ll be, um, sure to invite you.”
To his wedding. To Joan. God, what a thought. What an incredible thought.
Muldoon and Joan—married. He started to laugh. Married. But, hey, why not? He was crazy out of his mind about her. The thought of never seeing her again scared him to death. For days now, he’d been alternating between deep depression and giddy euphoria.
He loved her.
Hopelessly. Endlessly. Totally.
He wanted to wake up every morning knowing that she was in his life.
The CO—as usual—was as right about this as he was about most things. Muldoon simply hadn’t been thinking on a grand enough s
cale.
He could imagine their wedding—a simple ceremony where they’d put rings on each other’s fingers and seal the promises they made with a kiss. God, he wanted that so badly he had to remind himself to keep breathing.
He’d never pursued a woman before, not like this. He’d never had to. He’d never wanted to. But like the CO had said, if he was determined…
What would she say if he asked her to marry him?
There are too many obstacles.
Yeah? As Sam Starrett would say, so the fuck what? What obstacle ever stopped a fuckin’ SEAL?
What Muldoon had to do was find out exactly what her perceived obstacles were and…
He had to talk to her. He had to get inside her head. Find out what she was thinking. Let her know what he was thinking, too. God, he had to let her know what he was feeling.
Okay, that one wasn’t going to be either easy or fun, but neither was BUD/S training, and he’d made it through that. You do what you have to do to get the job done. And if that’s what it would take…
He had to make Joan see that it was worth it, that what they shared was well worth the hard work that came with a long-distance love affair. The sparks that they made together, and the sheer comfort of the fit that he felt when they were together—and he knew she felt it, too—was worth keeping. Forever.
He was not—was not—just going to let this one go. He wasn’t just going to let her slip away from him. Not this time. Not Joan.
And he had to make her realize that he was worth keeping, too.
Paoletti glanced at Joan again. “You know, she made quite an impression on Kelly. Funny and really smart, Kel said. Really sharp, really together.”
“Yeah,” Muldoon said. “She’s fabulous, sir.”
“What is it about smart women?” Paoletti asked. “Don’t try to answer that, Lieutenant. It was a rhetorical question. Although maybe someone as intelligent as you could actually figure it out. If you come up with anything, let me know, okay?”
Muldoon laughed. “Aye, aye, sir.”
It was good to see the commander looking a little more relaxed. Or was he?
Into the Night Page 40
