His Ordinary Life (21 page)

Tick shook his head. “Parents have no idea where he is. They’re screaming about suing me for false arrest, so I doubt they’d tell us if they knew.”

Cookie used a toothpick to clean under his thumbnail. “That’ll be what, the third time this year someone’s threatened you with that?”

“Yeah, I’m real concerned.” Tick chuckled and removed his department cap, straightening his hair with his fingers. He eyed Del. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

Del looked over his shoulder again. Anna was blowing on Paul’s knee. “I have your connection between Anna and that little son of a bitch.”

Tick’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah?”

“They took karate together. He tried to touch her.”

Tick stared at him. “And she never said anything?”

Del shook his head, the anger burning him still. The whole thing turned his stomach, but especially his daughter’s feeling she didn’t have anyone to confide in. “Brian Rawlings walked up on them before anything happened, and Blake got involved later. But no, she never said anything.”

Muttering a rough curse, Tick looked away. A muscle moved in his cheek.

Cookie flicked the toothpick into the mulch around the roses. “So Monroe took karate with Anna. Too bad he didn’t take with Cassie Howard. We could use a connection there.”

“Can’t give you one, though you might be interested to know Monroe was dating Keimond’s thirteen-year-old sister.”

“Likes ’em young, doesn’t he?” A harsh note invaded Tick’s hard voice. “Doesn’t explain why the two of them turned on Blake. I can see Mason and Keimond getting into it with each other, but why Blake?”

“Unless Mason had something on Keimond.” Cookie stretched and adjusted his belt. He slapped Tick’s shoulder. “We better get moving.”

Tick nodded. “We didn’t find Mason, but we have hair samples from his bathroom. We’re taking them over to Moultrie so Williams can run them against the hairs found on Cassie’s body.”

His breath rushed out in a muffled
oof
as both Lyssa and Anna rushed him, throwing themselves into his embrace. He chuckled, hugging them. “Hey, girls.” He glanced at Del again. “I still can’t figure out what went wrong with those results, but the parents confirmed he doesn’t have any siblings. Barb was right. Mason’s an only child.”

Anna tilted her head back to look up at him. “Unless his real mom has other kids.”

“His real mom?” Del asked. A stare of wordless communication passed between Tick and Cookie, excitement flaring in Tick’s gaze. Cookie grinned.

She nodded. “Mason’s adopted.”

Red lava rolled in lazy circles in the lamp on the dresser, highlighting the memorabilia of Blake’s life. Moving away from the bed, Barbara lingered, touching the baseball trophies lining his bookshelf. A photo of Blake with a couple of friends leaned against one, and she touched a fingertip to his carefree grin. Was that untroubled boy gone forever?

Seventeen years ago, another boy had worn that same expression. She’d watched him in the hall at school, been drawn to him despite her determination to get as far from Chandler County as possible. After Will’s death, when that smile had disappeared, she hadn’t been able to resist trying to bring it back. Even so, she hadn’t seen it often.

A glowing, grown-up version of that smile had curved Del’s mouth earlier when she’d told him she loved him. Warmed by the memory, she stroked the photo again. They would love Blake and bring his wide smile back as well. With one more glance at her daughters, she slipped from the room.

She pulled the door halfway closed and turned toward the living room. A dark form hovered, backlit by the lamp she’d left burning. Her heart jerked, its pace accelerating, and she pressed a hand to her chest, the familiar line of his lean body sinking into her consciousness. A nervous laugh escaped her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Del’s low voice cut through the darkness.

She shook her head. He smelled clean and male, fresh from a shower, and little flutters of desire took up residence in her stomach. “I just didn’t hear you—”

His mouth on hers smothered the words, and he wound an arm around her waist to pull her against him. Soap and male invaded her senses, his warmth flooded her body. Barbara moved closer, arms around his neck, fingers burrowing into his damp hair. Sensation swamped her, his touch and scent igniting a fiery throbbing that grabbed her lower belly and spread, pooling between her thighs. She opened to him and his tongue stroked between her lips in teasing forays. The taste of him, the dark texture of his mouth, touched off memories, other kisses and where they’d led, and the images played in her mind, increasing her desire. He ran his hands over her back, pulling her closer, wringing a little moan from her.

He was
hers
. She could touch him however, whenever, she pleased. And she was his. A thrill ran through her.

He slid those long-fingered hands lower, cupping her hips, pulling her into him. She pushed, seeking pressure to assuage the passion he built within her. His mouth left hers and he nibbled down her neck. “The girls are asleep, Blake’s under guard until I head back to the hospital and we’re alone. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”

“I’ve got a good notion.” She laughed, a shaky, breathy sound, and pressed closer. She wanted to climb him, wrap herself around him and never let go.

One hand journeyed up her body in a sweeping caress and tugged her T-shirt to one side, offering him access to the curve between her neck and shoulder. She shuddered under the caress of his breath against her skin. The anticipation would kill her. She knew all too well what loving him was like, but each time something shifted, changed, so it was familiar and new and exciting all at once. He knew what he was doing too, darn his hide, blowing hot patterns on her shoulder. A light scraping of teeth on the tender skin there and her head fell back, a deeper moan escaping her.

She clung to his shoulders, the heat of his skin burning her palms even through the thin cotton of the undershirt he wore. Muscles bunched under her hands. It had been so long, and she’d missed him. Touching him, being touched by him, felt so good. She wanted more, wanted everything.

“Del, not here.” Her voice trembled and she swallowed. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, sending thrills along her spine. “The girls.”

“You’re right.” He lifted his head, their bodies still close enough that his shudder ran through her. He fisted handfuls of her shirt and sighed into the curve of her neck.

She settled her hands at his waist, flexing her fingers against the lean muscles there. “Our room.”

He tensed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Her hands slid up his ribcage, his heart beating next to her palms, his breathing unsteady. “I want you.”

With a rough chuckle, he pulled away and linked their hands. “Come on.”

He tugged her down the hallway and through the living room. Willing, she went and smothered a brief spurt of guilt. She’d not planned on this, had planned to spend the night with the girls while he stayed with Blake.

But, oh, she was glad it was happening.

In their bedroom, he pulled her down sideways on the bed and leaned over her, both of her hands captured in one of his. He kissed her, sliding one of his thighs between hers.

“I love you,” he whispered, trailing down her throat to tease the hollow of her collarbone. “So much.”

She arched into him, loving the familiar weight of him. Damp hair tickled her throat. She ran her hands under his shirt and stroked the sloping muscles of his back. Tears stung her eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

He lifted his head and brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. “God, Barb, you have no idea.”

His mouth lingered on hers in a teasing kiss that soon turned to fire. Barbara dug her fingers into his hair and he groaned, shifting closer. A loud thump jolted her from the sensual haze surrounding them and she jerked beneath him. He cursed, pulling away.

She levered up on her elbows. “What is it?”

He shook his head, a rueful grin curving his mouth. “Hit my foot on your nightstand. Knocked something off.”

Her heart stuttered. “Forget about it—”

“Damn, that hurt.” He rubbed his foot and reached for the light. With a click, light flooded the room. She tried again, touching his arm.

“Del, it’s not important. Come here—”

“What the hell?”

Her stomach dropped.

He looked up, his face pale, dark eyes burning. Her small handgun dangled from his index finger. His mouth twisted in a grimace of pain, as if the metal burned. “What the hell is this?”

“Del.” Cold tension had taken the place of the fiery licks of desire in her belly. Why hadn’t she simply put the gun in the drawer earlier that evening when she’d taken it from the lockbox in preparation for his absence? The small package of bullets still sat on the table. “Please don’t get upset.”

“Upset?” His voice rose. “You brought a
gun
into the house with our children?”

She straightened and struggled for a calm appearance. “Yes, I did. It’s registered and I took a gun safety course. I’ve been out on the range and practiced. It stays in a lockbox, and it’s not loaded—”

“You brought a gun into the house with our kids, Barb. Damn it!” His jaw tight, he laid the pistol on the nightstand with cautious movements, as if handling a rattlesnake ready to strike.

She took a deep breath and touched his knee. He flinched from her. Self-righteous anger sparked in her chest. “I was alone with them, Del. Just me and them. That’s scary. I wanted to be able to protect us if I had to.”

He jerked a hand through his hair. “Some protection.”

She sighed. “Del, I knew you wouldn’t be happy, but
you weren’t here
. I did what I thought best.”

“And best was getting a gun.” He jumped up from the bed, his movements jerky. “All it takes is one mistake, Barb. One.”

“Del, do you think I’d risk them?”

“You already did by bringing that…
thing
into the house.”

Frustrated, she blew out a breath and curled her hands into fists, nails biting her palms. “It’s time to let it go, Del. It was an accident.”

“Let it go?” His eyes narrowed, furious flames ablaze in the dark depths. “I killed my brother, Barb, and you want me to
let it go
?”

She couldn’t bear the raw agony in his voice. Eyes burning with sudden tears, she left the bed to cup his face. His jaw trembled under her fingertips. “No, you didn’t. Honey, please. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Like hell.” His gaze glittered wetly, and he blinked several times. A hard swallow made his Adam’s apple bob. “I was older. I could have said no. I could have refused to drive us out to those damn woods. My hand was on the shotgun when it went off. I was responsible for him and I let it happen.”

“You were just a boy.” Her tears spilled over. “You loved him and you would never have hurt him.”

“I did, though.” If possible, his voice was bleaker than his eyes. “I
shot
him, and then I held him while he died. And I’m supposed to be okay with you having a gun in this house?”

“It’s not the same thing.” She wiped the tears from her face. “The children don’t have access to my gun.”

He looked away, the muscles in his throat working with a hard swallow. For a long moment, he stared at the floor. When he looked at her again, his eyes held an old weariness. “Did you even think about asking me?”

She sucked in a breath. She’d agonized over the purchase, over what he would think, during those long nights the first month he’d been gone, when every bump, every creak made her clutch the pillow tighter and wish for the security of him in her bed. When she’d bought the gun, she’d found a modicum of peace at night, knowing she wasn’t entirely defenseless. Tonight she’d removed it from the box for the first time in the two months that she’d owned it.

His jaw lifted. “Well?”

“Of course I thought about it. You were my husband. At one time, I asked your opinion on everything or don’t you remember? I couldn’t even decide what to fix for supper without talking to you first.” She laughed, the sound harsh and ugly even to her, and ran a hand through her hair, sure it was ruffled and standing on end. “How did you tolerate me? Tell me you didn’t enjoy getting away from that.”

Pain darkened his eyes and he shook his head. “No, I was miserable, and all I really wanted was to come home. Only I couldn’t because you’d shown me how fast you could move on without me, how small my place really was in your life.” With a low, hoarse chuckle, he stepped back. “Know what’s funny? You think you were some kind of burden to me. The truth is, baby, I was yours.”

“Del—”

“You never really needed me, did you, Barb? I needed you and it smothered you. I got in the way of everything, didn’t I?”

She shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. “I never said that.”

He moved his shoulders in a tight shrug. “You didn’t have to. I’m still the same mistake you made that summer in the back of my truck, and you’re bound and determined not to make the same mistake twice, aren’t you?”

“Del, that’s not true. You know it’s not.”

“I don’t have a clue what I know right now.”

How had they gone from I-love-you to this?

He turned and walked into the living room. Speechless, Barbara followed to find him jerking on a pair of jeans over his boxers. He left the undershirt untucked and shrugged into a striped Oxford buttondown. Dropping onto the couch, he reached for his shoes. He didn’t look up at her, but tied his laces with methodical speed.

“You’re leaving
now
?”

He rested his hands on his knees, his head still hanging between his shoulders. “I’m going to sit with my son.”

Pain gripped her chest. The last thing she wanted was him suffering this way. “Del.”

“I need a little time to think, Barb. To cool off.” Not looking at her, he pushed to his feet. “I’ll have my cell with me.”

“We’ll be fine. I can take care of the girls.”

“Yeah, I know.” He lifted his head then, his face wiped clean of all expression, but a deep, tearing angst in his eyes. “Like I said, you never needed me. Not really.” He pulled his car keys from his pocket, jingling them in a nervous movement. “Don’t forget to lock the door.”

“I won’t.” She followed him to the front door. He turned and looked down at her, his dark gaze intent. Her breath caught, and for a moment, he looked as though he would say something else. Giving in to impulse, Barbara linked her hands behind his neck and pulled him down, kissing him hard. She held him, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “Take whatever time you need. But you remember this, Del Calvert—I love you. And even if I can handle the kids and life and all the other stuff on my own, I need
you
. I always have.”

He blinked before he grasped her chin and lowered his head to kiss her. When he pulled back, his gaze was fierce and stormy. “I love you, too. I’ll be back. Trust me.”

He walked out into the breezy night, a light rain pattering on the walkway. He jogged to the SUV, his head bent against the raindrops.

Barbara closed the door, threw the lock, and leaned against it. She pressed trembling fingers to her eyes, burning with tears once more.

They were winning the war, together, she was sure of it. But why did each battle have to be so damned hard?