Apache Nights (10 page)

“Don't do it, Kyle. Don't involve her in my petty problems.”

“They're not petty, Joyce. This baby-thing is tearing you apart.”

“I'm learning to cope.” She grazed the side of his face, skimming her fingers along his jaw. “And you're helping me. My diversion. My sparring partner. My roll-in-the-hay lover.”

He smiled at her. Her touch felt good, soft and sweet. “We haven't done it in a hay loft.”

“So we'll find a barn somewhere.”

“Yeah, right.” He couldn't help but scoff. “As if you'd be willing to do it someplace where we could get caught.”

“Okay, so maybe we'll have to skip the hay.” She leaned in to kiss him, to make the moment warm and sensual.

He put his arms around her, and they held each other, with the wind blowing and the sea crashing in foamy waves. She nuzzled his neck, and he breathed in her perfume, a floral fragrance from her vanity table. He couldn't remember the name of it, but he'd watched her spray it on earlier that day.

When they separated, he was strangely aroused. More emotionally than sexually, something he didn't quite understand.

“Are you going to invite me to your parents' anniversary party?” he asked.

She gave him a surprised look. “I wasn't sure if you'd want to go.”

“I'm curious to meet your family. But if you're uncomfortable taking me—”

“No. I'd like you to be there. Besides, if I don't bring you, I'll get roped into a blind date. My youngest sister threatened to set me up with her husband's boss.”

A snap of masculine rivalry lashed across his chest, across his annoyed heart. He didn't want her
dating anyone else, not while she was sleeping with him. “Some corporate dude, I'll bet.”

“The suit-and-tie type.” She bumped his arm. “Jealous?”

“No.”

She seemed disappointed. “Not even a little?”

“I don't know. Maybe.” He bumped her right back. “You're supposed to be mine for a while. At least until Halloween.”

“Why Halloween?”

“So we can hand out candy together. At your apartment. No one trick or treats at my house.”

“With the locked fence and the big, black guard dog? Gee, I can't imagine why.”

“Smart aleck.” He dug his moccasins into the sand. “When is the anniversary party?”

“It's on the Saturday before Halloween.”

“Then it's perfect timing. I can come in costume. I can be an Indian. A big, bad Apache.”

“Very funny.” She grabbed his waist and pulled him tight against her, initiating a kiss.

For now, he thought, they owned the beach: the sea, the grainy soil, the shells scattered upon the shore. This was their moment, their forbidden romance, their affair.

She tasted like heaven, like everything he wanted, everything he needed. But it wasn't meant to last.

They'd both agreed not to fall in love.

T
wo weeks later, Kyle got ready for the anniversary shindig. He'd agreed to meet Joyce at the party because she'd gone early to help with the food and whatnot.

And now he was stressed out about arriving alone, about being judged by her family, about why he'd persuaded her to invite him in the first place.

His affection for her was getting the best of him.

After her vacation had ended and she returned to her job, he started missing her. She worked long, grueling hours. They barely got to spend any time together, just a few stolen hours, a few late-night lovemaking sessions.

And at the moment, it didn't seem like enough.

He glanced at Clyde. The rottweiler was sitting on the bedroom floor, watching him. Bonnie was there, too.

“I should know better,” he said out loud.

The dogs, of course, didn't answer. They merely let him talk, let him vent in front of the mirror, where he tucked his shirt into his pants.

“She's all I think about. Me, hooked on a cop.” He turned to address his companions. “How stupid is that?”

Clyde didn't react, but Bonnie perked her ears.

Kyle blew out an anxious breath, then finished getting dressed. He'd already pulled his hair into a ponytail because he thought it made him look more respectable, more reserved, if that were possible.

He went outside to get in his Jeep, and the dogs followed him to the yard, where they stayed to protect the property. Bonnie seemed to think her teeny-weeny presence made a difference. Kyle didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

He drove to the San Fernando Valley, where Joyce's parents lived. Their house was a two-story structure with a manicured lawn, several shady trees and a brick flowerbed.

As he neared the front door, he could hear jovial sounds of the party in progress. Luckily it wasn't a formal affair. But it wasn't a barbecue, either. It was
somewhere in between, or at least that was what Joyce had told him.

He knocked, and a young woman answered. She was blonde, cute and curious. He noticed her checking him out.

“You must be Kyle,” she said.

And she must be the baby of the family, he thought. The one who had threatened to set Joyce up with the corporate dude.

He nodded, affirming who he was. “It's obvious, I guess.”

“Completely.” She extended a greeting. “I'm Jessica, Joyce's sister. There are six of us altogether. All ‘J' names.” She paused to look him over again. “You're not Joyce's usual type.”

“I know. She prefers a suit and tie.” He met her gaze. “Or she used to. I think she prefers me now.”

“You're right. She does. She would never admit it, but she's been chomping at the bit for you to show up.”

Good, he thought. “Is your husband's boss here?” he asked, letting Jessica know that he'd heard about the other man.

“No.” She sent him an impish grin. “But I'm glad it matters to you.”

He didn't deny her claim. For now, it did matter. The lady cop was his lover, and he wasn't ready to give her up. He should be, but he wasn't.

Jessica linked her arm through his. “Come on. I'll take you to Joyce and she can introduce you around.”

She led him inside, and he caught sight of a spacious living room, a colorful kitchen and a glass sunroom. The other guests were everywhere, socializing with drinks and appetizers.

He didn't have to glance around to know that quite a few people had taken notice of him. He was big and tall. He always made an impression.

Suddenly he saw Joyce. There she was, surrounded by family and friends, talking and smiling. She sat in a wicker chair in the sunroom, bouncing a baby on her lap. He couldn't tell how old the child was, but a pink headband bow and frilly dress gave away her gender.

Joyce glanced up and noticed him from across the room. As they stared at each other, the afternoon sun streaked between them, making the glass enclosure seem even brighter.

“Dang,” Jessica said. “You two are intense.”

Embarrassed, Kyle broke the trance. He'd forgotten the younger woman was still standing beside him.

Joyce left her chair and came toward him, taking the baby girl with her.

“I'm glad you finally made it,” she said, when they were only inches apart.

“I didn't mean to be late.” He glanced at the child, and she gave him a slurpy smile. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

“That's my daughter,” Jessica told him. “Her name is Gail.”

“How old is she?” he asked.

“Seven months. Do you want to hold her?” Before he could respond, Joyce's sister reached for the baby and plunked her in his arms. “She loves everybody.”

No kidding, he thought. Gail latched onto him, like a monkey to a tree, reaching around to grab his ponytail.

“Be good,” her mamma said. “Don't pull his hair.”

Gail didn't listen. She tugged on it, like she was yanking his chain. Then she put her head on his shoulder and cozied up to him.

Joyce watched him with the baby, a tender look in her eyes. “She's got your number.”

He tried not to make too much of it. He'd already told Joyce that he appreciated kids. “She's just like her aunt.” He smoothed Gail's ruffled dress. “Feisty one minute and sweet the next.”

The lady cop smiled, and they stared at each other again. He knew half the people in the room were watching them, wondering who Joyce's new lover was, but he didn't care. For now, they were still a couple.

Soon the little girl in his arms nodded off, using him as a pillow. Jessica took her daughter, leaving him and Joyce alone.

“Are you ready to meet my parents?” she asked.

He wanted to say no, but he couldn't avoid the guests of honor. This party was for them. “Sure. Why not?”

She introduced him to her mom first, who was hanging out in the kitchen with a group of older women, where a buffet-style meal was being prepared.

“Mom, this is Kyle Prescott. Kyle, this is Alice Riggs, the saint who raised six girls and put up with my dad for forty years.”

“Then I'm honored,” he said, grateful for Joyce's wit.

Alice, a slightly plump blonde in her sixties, laughed and shook his hand, welcoming him with genuine warmth.

When he moved closer to Joyce, the older woman seemed pleased by his affection for her daughter. He felt a bit guilty, knowing he and Joyce had agreed not to fall in love. He didn't think Alice would understand a sex-only affair.

He met some of the other ladies in the kitchen and they were warm and friendly, too. But coming face-to-face with Joyce's father wasn't so easy.

They found him in the garage, where he and his cronies gathered around a vintage car.

Joyce made the introduction, but she didn't crack a joke, not this time. “Kyle, this is my father, Brock Riggs. Dad, this is Kyle Prescott.”

The men shook hands. Brock stood about six feet, with good-size shoulders and short gray hair. He had
steely blue eyes and a moustache, one that reminded Kyle of a parody of a seventies cop. All he needed was a pair of mirrored shades to go with it.

Joyce's dad was stuck in a time warp.

Amused, Kyle shifted his stance. He wanted to smile, but he didn't dare. Brock was giving him a critical study.

“My daughter told me you're a Desert Storm veteran.”

Joyce had mentioned him? No doubt trying to soften the blow. “Yes, sir.”

“She said you're highly decorated.”

“I believe in serving my country.”

Brock merely nodded. “I respect that.”

“Thank you.” He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief.

Or salute. Or get the hell out of here and never come back.

But then Brock offered him a beer, and he figured he'd passed the test. A second later, as Joyce's dad walked over to the ice chest, she slanted Kyle a grin that made him feel like they were in high school. He gave in and grinned, too.

Brock turned around and caught them.

The older man's moustache twitched, but that was as close as his lips came to forming a smile. But for Kyle, it was enough. More than he'd expected from a retired cop who seemed hell-bent on protecting his only unmarried daughter.

 

After the party, Joyce dropped off her car at her apartment, changed into comfy clothes and packed a small bag. Kyle had invited her to spend the night with him, and she couldn't resist. Especially since he claimed that he had a surprise for her.

She sat next to him in his Jeep, analyzing the way he'd interacted with her family. Her parents accepted him, and her sisters and their husbands seemed to like him, too. But most of all, her nieces and nephews adored him. He'd played video games with the older kids, while the little ones had approached him with awe, bringing him their toys.

No wonder Joyce had slipped back into the marriage/baby mode. She had it bad. And it was Kyle's fault.

Of course he hadn't done it purposely. She couldn't hold her emotions against him.

He slanted her a quick glance. “I had a good time. Better than I thought I would.”

“I'm glad you were there.” And sad that sooner or later, he would disappear from her life. “So what's my surprise?”

He changed lanes, getting ready to exit the freeway. “If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise. Besides, it's not that big of a deal. Just one of my whims.”

“I'll bet you cleaned your house.”

“Then you're going to be disappointed.” He took the off-ramp that led to a desert highway. “It's still a mess.”

She sat back in her seat, unable to figure out what he was up to. She supposed that was one of things she enjoyed about him. No one could call him predictable.

When they arrived at his house, he unlocked the vehicle-entry gate and drove straight to the airplane hangar.

“My surprise is in there?” she asked.

He smiled. “You're awfully curious, Detective.”

“That's precisely why I'm a detective.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “My inquisitive nature.”

They entered the laser tag course, which at the moment, was pitch black. Joyce nearly bumped into Kyle, and he chuckled.

He flipped on the lights, but nothing spectacular happened. From her vantage point, everything looked the same as it had on the day of the picnic. Then again, in a building this big, she couldn't be sure.

“Let's go for a walk,” he said. “We'll take this path.”

She looked around, wondering if he'd turned the hangar into a haunted house. “Is it going to start raining? Or snowing?” She moved cautiously. “Or are the lights going to go out? Is something spooky going to jump out and grab me?”

He shook his head. “Ye of little faith. I would
never try to scare a woman who looks at pictures of dead people all day.”

“I do more than that.”

“Oh, that's right. You go to autopsies, too.”

“That's not funny.” Even if she had puked her guts up the first time she'd smelled a rotting corpse. “I help put killers behind bars.”

“I know.” He stopped walking. “And you work endless hours to do it.”

She met his gaze. By now, they were near the faux-flower meadow. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Which is why I intend to hold onto you tonight. To keep you for as long as I can.”

“Oh.” She softened her voice, touched by the tender possessiveness in his. “I guess that means you've been missing me.”

“You have no idea.” He took her hand and guided her around a fake wall.

And that was when she saw the hayloft. Instantly she knew it was her surprise.

“My roll-in-the-hay lover.” She turned to smile at him. “You put that up for me.”

“It gave me something to do while you were working all that overtime.” He gestured to the enclosure. “Want to try it out?”

“Absolutely.” She started up the stairs first. The entire structure was made of spruce logs, giving it a rustic quality. “Did you build this yourself?”

“Yes.” He climbed the steps behind her. “I usually buy or lease the props in here, but I wanted to make this one.”

To her, it was more than a prop. It was a heartfelt gift, something she would never forget.

Once they reached the top, they both dived into the scratchy bedding. Although it was warm and absorbent, it grazed their skin, clinging to their hair and clothes.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“This isn't what horses eat,” he said. “This is what they sleep on.”

“I know.” She lifted a handful of the golden stalks, letting it flutter like rain. “I'm not that much of a city girl. I know the difference between hay and straw.” She paused to contemplate her situation. “I guess this makes you my roll-in-the-straw lover.”

Her leaned over her. “I guess it does.”

She lay beneath him, studying the handsome angles of his face. “Did you really miss me that much?”

He nodded. “It frustrates me. Thinking about a woman when she isn't around.”

“You don't seem frustrated now.”

“Because you're here.” He closed his hand over her blouse. “And I can touch you.”

“You're good at that.”

One by one, he released her buttons. He seemed so intense, so completely absorbed in what he was
doing. He removed her tennis shoes and tugged on her jeans, determined to undress her.

When she was naked, he kissed her. A kiss so warm, so compelling, she wondered how she was ever going to replace him.

She undressed him, too. She wanted to explore his body, to roam his muscles, to skim his scars, the healed-over bullet wounds that marred his skin. She'd noticed them before, but she hadn't focused on them until now.

But tonight, everything seemed different.

More powerful. More real.

She circled the scar on his chest. “Is this from the war?”

He nodded.

“And this one?” She gestured to his leg. She knew Olivia had accidentally shot him.