Hot & Bothered (31 page)

“You were?”

“Yeah.” He moved closer. “Because I realized today that I love you—and I figured I owed it to you to at least tell you…without expecting anything in return.”

Joy, in its purest form, burst inside her like a brilliant, multicolored pyrotechnic. It was like the Fourth of July and her birthday and the way she'd felt the first time she'd held Esme all rolled into one, only multiplied a hundredfold.

“I've always made a point of playing it safe when it comes to women,” John went on in a low, hoarse voice. “But I don't want to do that with you. Whether you return my feelings or not, I want you to know you're the only one for me.”

“I do, though. I love you, too.”

“Otherwise it's just…what?” A slow, whiter-than-white smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”

“
Oh, yeah.
I love you so much, John, and I'd sort of started to assume we were headed somewhere with this relationship. I felt like dying when you told Es there was nothing between us.”

“Because I thought it was what
you
wanted! You were so pissed when I told the reporters I was her dad and—”

“We hadn't even told
her
yet, and I didn't want some enterprising yellow journalist looking up her birth certificate and broadcasting the Father Unknown from here to kingdom come!”

“Yeah, I figured that out once I actually thought it through, but at the time I had it in my mind that you were ashamed of me, that you didn't think I was good enough to publicly acknowledge as the father of your kid.”

Stepping close, she smacked him on the chest with the flat of her hand. “When are you going to realize who I am?”

“I did, darlin'. Earlier, I did just that. I figured out once and for all what I knew instinctively in Pensacola but kept forgetting here—that you've never been and never will be that kind of elitist. I know that if you don't like something
I've done or don't want me for whatever reason, I can trust you to tell me up front.” He jerked her against him and looked down the length of his nose at her with the arrogance she both loved and deplored. “So, we're gonna get married for real, right? I think we oughtta. And soon.”

She blinked up at him. That was his big apology? That was his
proposal?
Then she smiled crookedly and looped her arms around his neck.
What the hell.
John was like a cat who'd come late to hearth and home: almost domesticated, but not quite. Maybe that would improve as he learned to trust in her love for him—or maybe he wouldn't ever be entirely tame. She was pretty sure he'd never be a Hallmark card kind of guy. It didn't matter, because in all the ways that counted he showed his love. He was the man who hadn't hesitated to put his heart on the line for her—with no expectation of getting anything in return.

She kissed him, hard and quick, then pulled back. “Soon works for me. You want a nice big society wedding?”

“God, no! That is—that's not what you want, is it?” His eyes narrowed as she grinned up at him. “Ah. You're jerking my chain. Very cute.”

Her grin widened. “Admit it, when it comes to anything society you're just too easy to tease—although in all honesty I think
you
fit in better with the country-club set than I do.” He laughed and she kissed him again. When they came up for air this time, she said, “Something small and private would suit me. Just you and me and Jared and Es, with a few family and friends. That sound more your style?”

“Much.” He eyed the desk covetously, then set her loose and stepped back. “We'd better get out of here,” he said with patent reluctance. “Much as I've developed a
lech for you on desktops, we've got a couple of kids who are probably dying of curiosity. If we want to satisfy it—and more importantly, avoid putting on a show the entire household will hear—we've got to deliver me from temptation.”

They were laughing when they left the office, but paused to kiss a few yards down the hall. It had just begun to heat up when Jared's voice intruded. “Jeez, you two.”

John pulled back and turned to give the young man an unabashed, ear-to-ear grin. “Hey. I'd like you to be the first to know your sister has just agreed to marry me.”

Jared's smile froze. Then, eyes shadowed and posture stiff, he nodded politely. “That's nice. Congratulations. I'll, uh, start looking for a new school.”

It broke Victoria's heart that experience had accustomed her brother to expect nothing else. Father's marriages had equalled getting shipped off to school.

Before she could open her mouth to reassure him, however, John said, “Yeah, maybe you should do that.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at him in dumbfounded betrayal. “Rocket!”

He stepped away from her toward her brother. “Start looking in Denver,” he advised over her protests. Hooking his elbow around Jared's neck, he hauled him in, scrubbing his knuckles atop the boy's head, which was nearly on a level with his own. “That's where you'll be living, with us.”

Oh, God. She should have known better and she loved him, loved him,
loved
him so much it hurt.

Esme's radar must have been working overtime, because she came clattering down the stairs and within moments the entire household was assembled to hear the details of DeeDee's arrest and learn of their plans to wed. The latter called for an impromptu ice-cream party in the kitchen.

It was a good hour and a half later before Victoria finally got John to herself again. She followed him into his bedroom, closed the door, then launched herself into his arms. Laughing, he waltzed her over to the bed and dipped her until they both tumbled onto the mattress.

Victoria gazed up at him solemnly when he propped himself over her, his forearms on either side of her shoulders and his lanky body looming over hers. His ponytail slid over his shoulder to pool on her chest and she reached for it, wrapping it around her hand. “You just had a taste of the chaos that's going to be your life from now on. You still willing to sign on for this?”

“Hell, yeah. I grew up without much in the way of a family—I'm really gonna dig belonging to one.” Lowering his head, he nuzzled along her jaw. “And make no mistake about it, darlin', you all are mine.”

“Good.” She arched her neck. “Have any opinions about adding to it?”

He raised his head to look down at her. “Have more babies, you mean?” His eyes lit up. “Sure. What the hell. Let's build us a dynasty.”

“A dynasty? Why, Mr. Miglionni.” She batted her eyes at him. “Do you think you're up to the task?”

Lowering himself over her, he wiggled his hips.

“Oooh. I see that you are.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “What do you say we get started?”

“Now?” She let her thighs fall apart and sighed when he immediately made himself at home between them.

“No time like the present, darlin'. I believe in giving one hundred percent to any project. And if the first effort doesn't take, you know what they say.” He kissed her until her bones felt like warm candle wax. Then he pulled back to gaze down at her. His smile was lopsided, his eyes full
of love and his fingers were gentler than a summer breeze as they traced her damp, swollen lips. Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear. “Prac-tice, prac-tice, prac-tice.”

F
OR THE FIRST TIME IN HOURS
John found himself alone. Propping his shoulders against a wall of the intimate Brown Palace banquet room he and Tori had rented for their wedding reception, he savored his happiness. He tapped his foot in time with the four-piece band playing at the other end of the room, surprised no one was dancing on the minuscule floor. Attendance in the room, however, was momentarily sparse. His bride had slipped away with the women and even Coop and Zach, who'd been having a grand time toasting and roasting him, had disappeared a few minutes ago. He had a sneaking suspicion they were out in the parking lot messing with his car. He'd probably find all kinds of embarrassing crap tied to it when he and Tori left. You'd think they were teenagers instead of grown men, but Jared acted more mature.

No sooner had the thought popped into his head than his new brother-in-law materialized in front of him, wearing a faultlessly tailored tux and the biggest cheese-eating grin John had ever seen, forcing him to revise his previous opinion. Great. Obviously, his friends had managed to corrupt the kid already.

“Your buddies are so cool! Zach told me Coop is actually James Lee Cooper. I've read
The Eagle Flies!
How rad is that?”

“Pretty damn. His stuff is great, isn't it?”

“Man, I'll say. Coop said Zach got the handle Midnight in the Marines because he sees really well in the dark and Zach told me Coop was called the Iceman because the tougher the situation, the steadier his nerves always got. But when I asked why they call you Rocket, they just laughed and said to ask you. So why do they?”

“Because I've got a dick like a suborbital transportation system.”

Jared laughed. “Yeah, right. How come, really?”

John grinned. What the hell. When truth is stranger than fiction, make something up. “Good with munitions.” Suddenly remembering the card in his pocket, he said, “Hey, while it's just the two of us, I have something for you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Reaching inside his tux, he pulled out the index card and extended it to the teen. “I located P.J. I know you weren't interested the last time I asked, but I thought if you ever change your mind about contacting her, you'll at least have her current address and phone number.”

Jared took the card and looked down at it. “She's in Wyoming?”

“Yeah. Her mom's working nights at a truck stop.”

The boy stared at the card for several silent moments. Then he slid it into his tux pocket and looked back at John. “Thanks.” He paused, then asked slowly, “Rocket, do you know how I'd go about getting a hundred bucks from my inheritance before it clears probate?”

“Nope, but I'd be happy to float you a loan in the meantime.”

“You would?” Jared stared at him as if waiting for the catch. Finally, he asked, “Without knowing what I want it for?”

“Sure. You've got a good head on your shoulders. I'm sure you've got an excellent reason.”

“I do,” the boy said eagerly. “There's this lady in Denver who gave me money she couldn't afford just because she was decent…and because I reminded her of a son who'd died in Iraq. I want to send it to her.”

“She gave you a hundred bucks?”

“No, she gave me and Peej three, but I saw into her wallet and she only had five to begin with, which made me feel doubly crappy about conning her.”

“You've got style, kid. Forget the loan—I'll write you a check right now. Consider it a small thank-you to the lady from your sister and me.” Suiting action to words, he pulled his checkbook from the same inside pocket where he'd stored the index card, scribbled out a check, and ripped it from the book. He handed it to his new brother-in-law.

Jared stuffed it into his pocket. “Thanks.” He hesitated, then said, “I'm really glad Tori married you.”

“You and me both, buddy. I'm pretty jazzed about getting you for a brother, too. You're one of the good guys.”

The teen looked both delighted to hear it and terrified the sentimentality might suddenly run amok. Luckily, before the moment could grow emotionally sticky, Esme's excited voice called, “Look, Daddy, look at me!”

He turned to see her riding Coop's shoulders, her hands clutching the big blond's spiky hair, looking thrilled right down to her little ruffled socks but a little nervous at being so far up off the ground. His heart clutched at the sound of “daddy” from her lips and at the sight of her, all flushed and bright-eyed in her little party dress and patent-leather shoes, with her hair wild and wavy down her back. “Yeah, look at you,” he said. “How'd you con the big guy into giving you a ride?”

“He offered! Mr. Blackstock has a niece and her name is Lizzy and she's a coupla years older 'n me and he says someday we'll have to visit them!” She tugged on Coop's hair and leaned over to peer into his face when he tipped his head back to look up at her. “I want down now, Mr. Blackstock.”

“I wish you'd call me Coop, Little Bit.” His muscular shoulders shifted beneath his suit jacket as he reached overhead to lift her off them and again as he swung her to the ground. He bent and gently straightened the mussed skirt of her flower-girl dress, his dark brows furrowed with concentration.

Esme flashed him a big smile. “Thank you for the ride, Mr. Coop. It was super! I hafta go tell Rebecca and Auntie Fiona.” With a swirl of rustling violet fabric and stiff white petticoat, she spun and raced across the room.

Victoria, who had paused to watch from a few feet away, walked up to the two men. “I sure do like your friends, John.”

Rocket turned. “Hey, there you are!” He wrapped his arm around her and hugged her to his side, moving her veil aside with his chin in order to nuzzle her ear. “That's better,” he breathed. “We haven't done this in, oh, ten minutes or so; I was starting to go into withdrawal. Where've you been?”

“Getting to know Ronnie…and Lily, whom I'm embarrassed to admit I was a little put off by at first.”

Coop grinned. “It's the Marilyn Monroe hair and that bodacious body.”

Victoria smiled at him. “Exactly. She's a bombshell, which under ordinary circumstances I like to believe wouldn't have got me all puckered up. But I'm sure you've heard all about DeeDee by now and she and Lily
share a very similar look. Of course, it only took two minutes of watching her take care of your wife in the restroom to realize that the only thing those two have in common is massive sex appeal. Lily's a genuinely nice woman. And very kind.”

Coop's black brows drew together. “Ronnie's throwing up?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so.” She reached out and squeezed his forearm. “I understand congratulations are in order, although I must warn you your name was taken in vain between her bouts of hanging over the toilet.”

“You're gonna be a dad?” John slapped his friend on the shoulder. “That's great news—congratulations, Ice!”

Pride cloaked Coop like a mantle, but his gaze drifted toward the ladies' room. “Thanks, we're real excited. Except Ronnie's been miserable with morning sickness, which doesn't even have the decency to confine itself to morning. She's almost into her second trimester, though, so we're hoping it will go away soon.” His bittersweet chocolate-colored eyes suddenly lit up and, excusing himself, he stepped past Victoria, who looked over her shoulder to see the women they'd been discussing walking up to them.

“Hey, sweetpea,” he murmured to his wife. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Ronnie swept her shiny black hair away from her damp forehead and smiled. “I feel much better.”

“You look pale, princess.”

John gave his friend a quizzical look. “How can you tell?”

Tori elbowed him in the side, but secretly thought he had a point. Ronnie had the whitest skin she'd ever seen and Victoria couldn't see a discernible difference from the
way the other woman had looked before her stomach had gone wonky.

Pam and Frank joined them as the band segued into a jazzy tune. Pam and Ronnie discussed the injustice of morning sickness and Victoria was telling Lily about the large Craftsman-style house they'd just purchased in Denver when the petite woman suddenly stared past her. She saw the blonde's jaw drop.

“Oh, my gawd. Look at Zach!”

Tori turned to see him swing dancing with John's business manager. The tall black-haired man swung Gert out, and both kicked their left legs exuberantly fore and aft before he snapped the older woman back in and bent to dance cheek to cheek with her while they executed several complicated steps.

Smiling in delight, she looked back at his wife and friends and found them equally delighted. When the dance came to an end, John and Cooper stomped, whooped and shouted their approval.

Zach executed a snappy salute in recognition of their appreciation and escorted Gert over to the group. Bending down, he gave his wife a quick kiss on her still startled mouth. “Sorry, sweet thing, but I'm gonna have to demand a divorce. Me and Gert are running away to dance up a storm in Jamaica.”

“Now don't go teasing an old broad, boy.” Gert gave him a swat, but then patted her blue updo in an appreciative feminine preen. “My pacemaker can only handle so much excitement.”

Everyone laughed, but Lily continued to stare at Zach as if bedazzled. “Where did you
learn
that?”

“I took lessons Tuesday nights when I told you I was teaching the Special Ops course. You said you wished I
liked to dance. Turns out I do.” He stroked a gentle fingertip down her cheek. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Ohmigracious, Zachariah, you certainly did that!” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on. Show me what else you've learned.”

Jared, who had just rejoined the group, stared after Zach. “He teaches?” he asked, a hint of disillusionment tinging his voice.

“There comes a day when you're too old for recon, kid,” Cooper said sternly. “Besides, he doesn't just teach—he's one of the best damn instructors the MOUT facility at Camp Lejeune has ever had, teaching the Urban Warrior program.”

“What's MOUT?” the youth asked.

“Military Operations in Urban Terrain,” John explained. “Modern warfare is beginning to be fought more and more within cities and the Urban Warrior program is a series of exercises that the Corps Warfighting Laboratory puts on to examine new urban tactics and experimental technologies. We'll have to take a trip to North Carolina before Zach musters out next year so you can check out the place for yourself. It's awesome.”

Jared's eyes lit up. “Really?”

“You bet,” John replied.

“Damn straight,” Coop agreed and launched into a story about one of the exercises he'd witnessed. Victoria watched as all three males ended up lying on their stomachs on the old rug, sighting down phantom weaponry.

Seeing her brother blossom under the men's attention, she counted herself one lucky woman. Not only had she captured the heart of the only man to ever engage her own, but in one fell swoop Esme had gained a dad, Jared a big brother and all three of them an expanded circle of friends.

John rolled over and sat up, grinning sheepishly when he saw her watching. “You can take the boy out of the Marines, darlin', but you'll never take the Marines outta the boy.” He jumped to his feet and came over to her. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He fingered her white veil. “I wanna see you wearing nothing but this tonight.” Slicking his long hands down the sides of her slim satin-and-lace gown, he gave her a crooked smile. “Okay, and maybe those white thigh-high stockings and heels you've got on under this.”

“Oh, God, John, I love you so much.”

“Hey,” he crooned, “what's this?” He captured a single tear sliding down her cheek and brought it to his mouth, where he sipped it off his fingertip. Bending his knees, he peered into her face. “You having one of those girly sentimental-fool moments, darlin'?”

She punched his arm. “You are such a chauvinist.”

“And proud of it,” he agreed, grasping her hand and running his thumb over the three-stone diamond band on her ring finger. “You won't catch
me
getting all dewy-eyed.” His dark gaze, however, told a different story as he stared down at her with such naked love it made her breath catch.

Then he flashed a cocky smile, picked her up by the elbows, and planted a hard kiss on her lips. He set her gently back on her feet. “But look at it this way, darlin'. You've got years and
years
to reform my wicked ways.”