Miah (Lane Brothers #2) (4 page)

God bless my mother, she just gave me a real excuse to literally get a foot in the door with my next mission.

No wonder I love the old bat so much.

Clari is looking anywhere but at me.

“Now don’t be a stranger, darling. We like having you around in this rambling monstrosity.”

“Thanks, George.”

She’s smiling by now and squeals when Jace lifts her five-three frame and starts smooching her cheeks.

“Thanks for the brownies the other day, sis. I shared with Jared and I swear they were as good as Ma’s.”

Brownies? She made this asshole brownies?

“Alright, idiot, let the woman go so she can breathe already,” I snarl, flipping him the bird behind Clara’s back when all he does is laugh and start whistling the wedding march under his breath.

Clari is stiff as a board and looks ready to dive out of the vehicle when I strap her in and make my way down the long drive in Wyatt’s prized Bugatti.

“I won’t bite, you know,” I growl after five minutes of silence and the sound of her uneven breathing.

“I know. Just…don’t come in, okay? It’s all fine and…and I just…”

“Relax, Clari, I’m just coming in to check things out and make sure no one got in.”

And then I’m going to do what I’ve been dreaming of for months and finally get a taste of that rosebud mouth of yours
, I add silently, surreptitiously adjusting the bulge I’ve been sporting all night.

Tonight is the beginning of what I hope will be more than a quick flash of lust and raging desire. Make fun of me for flipping switches so quickly. I don’t care one bit because if I manage to get this woman, it’ll be a flipping miracle.

We get to her place in under thirty minutes, thanks to the car, and I hate that she lives so far out from us and the security that our home provides.

“You don’t—”

“I’m doing it and that’s final, Clari. I’m a cop, remember? And after the hell I saw today, I’d feel a lot better knowing that your place is safe, alright? Now come on and give me the key, woman. Stay here till I come back out. Anyone or anything gets near the car, you start it and leave. Clear?”

She rolls her eyes but nods eventually when all I do is stare at her demandingly.

“Fine. Check under the bed, too, would you? The bogeyman might be hiding there.”

“Funny. I’ll be back.”

Her house is a weird mix of odds and ends and it just drives home to me that she’s not in the financial position to live the way I’m accustomed to, but I like the homey little cottage and the comfort I feel in every small room.

What bothers me is knowing that her windows would be a breeze to pop and the lock on her back door wouldn’t keep out a mosquito if it flew too fast.

It’ll do for now with the way I jammed the lock, but she’d better start coming around quickly or I’ll have to consider taking a leaf out of Wyatt’s book and carrying my woman off to captivity till she relents.

“Clear. Come on, you can offer me coffee while I secure your windows,” I say after handing her out and locking the car.

“What? No. I—”

“Give me a break, Clari. Come on, babe, I won’t get a wink of sleep knowing you’re a screwdriver twist away from being accosted while you sleep. Besides, now that I’ve pointed it all out, aren’t you a little worried, too?”

Nice, Miah, worry the poor woman to freaking death, why don’t you.

“Worried? Is it really that bad? I can’t afford to have a security system put in and—”

“I’ll fix something up and send Jared out here tomorrow to install something worthwhile,” I say, not backpedalling but feeling like a real shit for scaring her.

If I thought for a second that scaring her to death would get her to my home, I wouldn’t hesitate, but my girl is stubborn as a mule.

“Thanks, uh, come in and I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

Clara

The coffeemaker starts gurgling and spitting out the aromatic blend I bought on a whim, and I’m suddenly glad I splurged so I wouldn’t have to offer him the cheap brand I usually buy.

I run my hands over my arms as I watch the coffee brew. I don’t think he meant to scare me, but I feel a lot more nervous now than I did in the car.

He’s going to push his luck before he leaves here tonight, I just know it.

I also know I’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t. I’ve thought of nothing since dinner except kissing Miah and finally finding out if his lips are as soft and smooth as they look.

Now I’m also thinking about that damned package sitting in the entryway and the fact that Nick knows where I live and that my darn windows aren’t secure.

“It’s done. I’ve jammed the latches closed and lined those cat figurines of yours along all the sills. It should do till Jared can sort you out,” he says, strolling into the kitchen and leaning against the counter beside me with his front turned my way.

Why oh why does he have to smell this good?

“Thanks, uh, here’s your coffee.”

I pour him a cup and grab my own before sitting on the only single seat in my living room. His smirk and knowing look make my cheeks heat, but instead of looking down as I usually would, I force myself to meet his eyes and keep our stares locked.

“You’re nervous, Clari,” he drawls, leaning back against the sofa with an arm slung across the back and one foot propped on my coffee table.

The move is so male and casual, I can’t help admiring his ease and the little slice of skin revealed when his shirt rises up.

“Yes. I’m not used to having men in my home.”

“Technically, that’s not true. You were in a relationship for six years, after all,” he muses, smiling.

“That’s not what I meant,” I argue, feeling my cheeks heat more.

“Then what did you mean, Clari? Did you mean to say that you’re not used to having a man you’re attracted to in your home? Or is it that you’re afraid to have me here when you know that fighting this thing between us is hopeless?”

              “I don’t want a relationship, Miah, and I want a fling even less.”

His smile falls and his eyes narrow in that way that makes me feel intimidated and wanted at the same time. It’s weird and unsettling.

“Why no relationship? No, Clari, no back talk and half answers, please, just answer me. Why no relationships?” he insists, sitting forward in his seat.

“Because I don’t want the whole white picket fence and the million babies, okay? I just want…I want to do my job and have my own life without being looked at like I’m a piece of property who just so happens to have a uterus attached.”

He looks at me quizzically before his mouth twitches into a smile that shows teeth and two dimples that make my breath catch.

“No kids, Clari?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe one day, if the urge strikes and I suddenly feel the need to lose sleep, my figure, and half my mind,” I say, shaking my head and looking away. “I don’t want to look back at my life and resent a kid for all the things I missed doing. Not that that’s a possibility right now, anyway, because unless you haven’t noticed, my life’s about as exciting as a dead log covered in termites.”

Sometimes I have the ability to lie to myself just so I don’t feel shitty, but right now, tonight, all I feel is depressed and really drained by it all.

I’m single and yet I have about as much drive to go into the dating scene as Ellie has to give birth to an eight-pound baby.

“Clari, babe, your life is just fine as it is. Okay, with a few changes down the road, since I can’t see you living here indefinitely no matter how much security Jared wires this place with…my point is, you’re fine. Or you will be since I intend to catch you and start showing you a good time.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I may never want children, Miah, so starting anything with me is not a good idea.”

God, is it possible for those dimples to go any deeper?

“That’s great, actually, since I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself for the foreseeable future.”

His eyes have gone this weird smoky blue and I swear he just licked his lips and growled a little when I sighed.

“You don’t want kids?”

“Dunno, babe. Maybe ten years from now I’ll change my mind and have a small hankering to be a father, but I’m pretty sure I’d get over it without much trouble. They’re great and all, but I’m a cop. I don’t want my innocent children living in this messed-up world, and if I did, you can bet your ass I’d buy an island and keep them there till they’re forty and savvy enough not to get hurt.”

Great, now part of me wants to have little rug rats because I just know Miah would be a great dad.

That thought disappears as he rises and pulls me up from my seat and into his chest. I watch Miah Lane’s head lower slowly towards mine. His hands cup my jaw and tilt my face up to his as his lips settle over mine in a warm heated caress.

The sensation is soft and warm, and yet it hits me so hard that I gasp at the intensity, opening my mouth for his tongue and the growl that reverberates into my mouth.

The kiss he gives me starts slow, just a slide of wet tongues and lips as he pulls me closer and tastes me with languid pleasure. It’s me who gets impatient and pushes closer, my mouth opening wider and sucking at his as need and a lust I haven’t felt, ever, streak through my blood.

Once he gets the message, the real action starts and he devours me in a show of male strength that has me gasping and pulling away to suck air into my lungs.

I’m lightheaded as he pulls me into his arms and just holds me, his heart beating hard enough that it echoes into my chest. I feel his erection poking at my belly.

“I knew you’d be perfect, Clari. I just knew it, babe. That’s why I fought this so hard,” he murmurs into my hair, his lips trailing from my hairline, down my temple, and across my cheek.

“This is a bad idea.”

I’m screaming inside as the words leave my lips, because if this man kisses like he’s at a gourmet feast, I can just imagine what he’d do to my body if I give him that chance.

But someone has to be sensible here. I don’t want future dinners with the Lanes to be awkward if things didn’t work out between us. I’m not willing to lose my adopted family for one or two really good nights with Miah Lane.

“Clari, this is the best idea I’ve ever had, so get used to it. And be ready for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll be by to pick you up at seven. Wear something casual, babe, and sensible shoes.”

“What? We’re not—”

“You’ll be ready at seven or I’ll call Jude and sic her on you.”

“You will not tell your mom—”

“Course I will, babe, she has a knack at getting us Lane boys just what we want, and unfortunately for you, she seems to want you in my life as much as I do. Be ready, or that terror will come knocking and you’ll end up on a chaperoned date not too long after,” he warns before kissing me deep one last time and walking out.

The snick of the lock ricochets all through the room as I stand there stupefied and somewhat amused at his tactics. No man has ever threatened to tell his mommy on me if I didn’t agree to a date, and while I’d be both horrified and laughing my ass off if one did, I find the move endearing and way too amusing to dislike.

I’m still standing in the same spot minutes later, considering my options, when my phone rings in my bag.

“Hello?”

“I forgot to say thank you,” he drawls, making my heart beat faster and my lips tingle at just the sound of his deep voice.

“Thank you?”

I’m a schoolteacher whose idea of fun and entertainment includes watching old reruns of the nineties classics and eating homemade potato chips. What the heck is happening here?

“I forgot to say thank you for the best first kiss I’ve ever had. Sleep tight, Clari,” he whispers before ending the call.

              I have to drag my ass to my bedroom on shaky limbs Then I spend the next hour reliving every touch of his lips and every word like some mealy faced teenager.

Thank goodness I don’t have a diary. Or one of those cheesy mixed tapes.

***

Someone is outside. That’s the first thought that pops into my head when I hear footfalls a second before the sound of porcelain shattering reaches my ears.

Correction. Someone is
inside
right now, and all I’m wearing is an old ratty tank and my granny panties that are gross but so comfortable to sleep in.

Stop that and hide, you ninny!

I dive from the covers and fall to the floor in a lump of limbs and scrambling feet when the unmistakable creak of the old floorboards out in the hall reaches me.

Never having been robbed before—I lived in the ugliest trailer in creation when I was a kid and then a house that made the Kremlin look unguarded—I’m not sure what to do.

Improvising when I’m about to have a panic attack followed by a stroke, I grab my phone from the nightstand and start crawling when it strikes me; the first place anyone would look is the closet. And under the bed.

Shoot, Clara, think girl.

The bathroom cupboard is out because I’ll fit maybe a breast and thigh in the cramped space. And the shower curtain scene gives me the creeps…window seat!

By the time I’m inside the tiny space and slowly lowering the cover, I hear my door creak open slowly and almost screech with nerves. My hands are shaking so much by now that dialing the phone is twice as hard, and the sweaty palms don’t help either.

Footfalls reach my ears and I can almost see whoever it is walking over to my bed and discovering me gone. That’s when I almost wet myself for real, because instead of getting out of dodge at the knowledge that I know that they’re here and likely even now calling the cops, I hear…yup, the closet door followed by a hissed curse.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“S-s-someone is in my house,” I whisper low and in a trembling voice that sounds nothing like my own.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, please repeat that.”

“S-someone’s in my house.”

The clanging of the bathroom cupboard reaches my ears and I flinch at the violence of the sound.

The operator demands my address, and after two attempts she finally assures me that someone will be despatched immediately. I’m staying on the line and clutching the phone to my ear hard enough to bruise, though I can’t say a thing at the moment.

Those footsteps come closer and I just know instinctively that the burglar is standing right beside my hiding spot.

I don’t breathe or make a sound, too terrified to even draw a breath lest they hear it.

Thank God Miah had taken a look at my windows and set them up to alert me, or I’m sure that I’d be in a whole lot more trouble right now than I currently am.

Although, considering I’m about to perish from terror, I can’t be all that grateful just yet.

“Ma’am, are you still there?”

Yes! But I can’t answer because the psycho standing right beside my window seat will probably hear the chattering of my teeth if I unclench my jaw.

“She’s not here.”

“Bullshit. Her sheets are still warm and the bathtub is still a little wet from her bath. The bitch is here.”

              Two men?

I’ll be dead in under a minute and I know it.

“Ma’am, do not panic. Whatever you do, don’t move if you’re hidden. A unit is pulling up at your house as we speak,” the operator says calmly.

She’s right and I know it the minute I hear the two men curse followed by their hard footsteps a second before a loud bang ricochets around me.

“Police!”

The relief is enough to break that leash I’ve had over myself and I start sobbing into the phone like a baby, my brain and muscles exhausted, as if I’ve run a marathon.

“Ma’am? Are you in here?”

“Ma’am, you need to go out there and let the officer know if you’re okay.”

“I…thank you.” I wheeze, fighting for breath as the choking sobs get louder and force me to finally reach my shaky arms up and push at the lid of the seat.

How I fit in here I will never know, but I’m just grateful to be out and alive as I struggle up and out of the small space and into the waiting arms of…Officer Gonzalez.

“Miss Elms, are you okay?”

“I…there were two men in my house,” I wheeze, still crying silent tears of joy and just…relief that I’m okay.

This whole episode could not have lasted longer than eight to ten minutes, max, and yet it’s as if I’d been in that box for hours.

“Officer Rourke is looking around, ma’am, but it seems they got away. Here. Let me get you a robe or something to cover up with,” he says, extricating himself with difficulty since my arms seem welded around the poor man’s neck.

It’s only then that I look down to see that my panties have ridden up my ass crack and my tank is so threadbare that I can see my own nipples through it.