Mine Until Morning (13 page)

She’d have to start with the phone because it was costing money. Oh yeah, Dani was all about the money. If her dead husband was costing her, well, hell, out he’d go. She felt sick. Tired. Lonely. She wished Mac was there to share a glass of wine with her as he had during the evenings after those long, long days of Kern dying.

But he wasn’t. She’d banished him, too. She could have called him, but instead, she dialed the phone company and shut down Kern’s cell.

MAC WASN’T SURE EXACTLY WHEN IT HAPPENED. KERN’S PHONE didn’t work. He’d been keeping it charged, God knew why; it was just this thing he couldn’t let go of. As if, like Isabel, he thought Kern might call him from the other side. Or perhaps he was hoping Isabel would call and tell him Dani had changed her mind. It had been two weeks; the phone hadn’t rung. Then tonight, there was no service.

Dani had canceled it. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. His eyes ached. Kern was dead. As dead as his phone. He couldn’t say why it hit him then, but the pain was so goddamn intense, he doubled over. Men don’t cry, but his cheeks were wet. He wiped away the moisture, but more trickled.

“I failed you, man,” he said to the empty house. “I should have had more faith in you.” People lived up to expectations. If you thought they’d fail, they usually did. With someone to believe in them, they could perform miracles. To his brother, Mac had always been a but man. But what about this and what about that? You’re not thinking everything through. No wonder Kern had stopped confiding in him.

“I’m so sorry. I miss you. I’d change everything if it would bring you back.”

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His temples throbbed. “I wish I’d told you that before you died.” He’d have changed how he’d handled Dani, too.

Fuck, that was the problem. Handling Dani. She didn’t need handling or taking care of. All she needed was to share the load the way they had those last two weeks with Kern. Someone to help her do the heavy lifting. Instead, he’d bulldozed.

He stared at the dead phone a moment longer. Until he realized exactly what it meant. She was cleaning out.

He could not let her face it alone.

The drive took fifteen minutes, and it was a little past nine when he pushed her doorbell. He half feared she’d be out on a date, but a few seconds later, the porch light flipped on.

Her eyes were reddened. She wore an old pair of sweats too big for her and her hair knotted on the top of her head with one of those scrunchy things. She looked more beautiful than in the sexy dress he’d last seen her in. A pulse beat at her throat, then she sighed. “I’m glad you came.” She backed up, held the door open. “I was packing up some of Kern’s things.” She met his eyes. “I thought I’d donate the computer to a school.”

He followed her inside. “I could drive it over.”

“Thank you.”

They were both so polite, so careful, as if nothing had happened between them.

She led him down the hall to Kern’s office, which was filled with open boxes. Computer components, unidentifiable electronics equipment, books on car mechanics, Kern’s ham radio equipment.

“Maybe you can sell some of that on eBay.”

She grimaced. “I don’t really know what all this stuff is.”

“I do. I can help.”

“Do you want any of it?”

They’d learned ham from their dad. Kern had still enjoyed a good field day. Mac had long since given it up. “No. Thanks.”

She tipped her head. “You should take something, though. Maybe his watch. It’s a Rolex.” She’d given it to Kern as a wedding present.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

She stared hard at the half-filled boxes, the gaps in the bookshelves. “How 83

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did you know I was doing this?”

He dug the cell phone out, held it up. Slowly, she raised a hand, took it, considered it. “I got the bill this morning.” She glanced up, her eyes misty. “I knew it was time. I think you can give working cell phones to battered women’s shelters.”

“I’m sure you can.”

She pursed her lips, sniffed, composed herself. “Thank you. I appreciate that you came. I was going to start on his clothes and stuff, but then I couldn’t seem to do it. That part was too hard.”

He laid a hand on her arm, the only touch he dared. “I can do it if you want. Whatever you need me to do, just tell me.”

Her lip trembled, her jaw tensed, she sniffed, then whispered, “I need you to hold me.”

He didn’t know who moved first, but she was suddenly tight in his arms and no woman had ever felt as right. She didn’t give in to tears, but her grip on him was fierce.

“I was wrong,” he said gently.

“About what?” she asked, her breath caressing his ear.

“About how I treated Kern. The way I ordered you to let me help you, to let me into your life.”

She wrapped her arms tighter, her heartbeat so close it was almost his own.

“What I should have said was that I fell in love with you while Kern was dying. I couldn’t help myself; it happened. I didn’t even recognize it at first. But instead of admitting it to myself, I blackmailed my way into your life with Kern’s dying wishes.”

Her body trembled. She sniffed. He knew she was fighting the tears. He wanted to tell her to give in to them; it was okay. But lately, he’d been telling her far too many things she should do.

“I don’t want to control you or force you to take my money to pay your bills. I don’t want you to be dependent on me.” He stroked her hair, soothed as she quivered against him. “But I don’t want to walk out, either. I don’t believe Kern would be upset about the way I feel for you. He would have understood because he loved you so goddamn much, and he hated leaving you.”

She sobbed, once, hiccupped.

“I want to share with you, not overpower you.” He took a chance, putting his 84

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hands to her shoulders and holding her away. Her nose was red, her cheeks wet.

“I’m not telling; I’m asking. Please let me stay, Dani.”

He ran a thumb under first one eye, then the other, wiping away her tears. Finally she spoke. “I missed you.”

He smiled slightly, his heart aching. “Not as much as I missed you.”

“Kern loved you.” Dani sniffed. “He always admired you. He was proud of everything you did, and he wanted to be exactly like you.”

Mac cupped her cheek. “I know. But I still know I made a lot of mistakes with him.”

His touch was so good after two weeks without him. God, how she’d missed him. Dani sniffed again, glanced around. “Doesn’t he even have any tissues in here?” Then she smiled tremulously, her heart wanting to burst wide-open. “How you make me feel scares me. But this is what Kern wanted when he asked you to take care of me. He wanted me to fall in love with you.” She stroked the nineo’clock shadow along Mac’s jaw. “You’re so beautiful.” She could love them both. What she felt for Mac didn’t lessen her love for Kern. She just had to allow herself to accept instead of fight.

Mac trailed his hand down her arm, then pulled her to the corner workstation and the box of tissues stuffed next to a dying philodendron. She needed to water it. She didn’t want it to die.

“Here.” He handed her a tissue. “Dry your eyes. Blow your nose.”

She did. “I must look awful.”

“You look gorgeous.” He put her hand to his chest where she could feel his heart beat. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to pay off Kern’s medical bills together.”

“How?”

His eyes danced. “By doing exactly what we did with Spryo and Sheldon—

play the game: me, jealous enforcer; you, sexy babe. It was so fucking hot, people will be lining up begging to play.”

Her heart swelled. “You’re not just saying that because I’m an oversexed slut you have to appease, are you?”

He drew her closer, until his body was pressed to hers, his cock hard at her belly. “Baby, it was so good, so hot, and yes, I was crazy jealous, which made it even better.” He rubbed noses. “What I really wanted to do was toss Sheldon across the room and take you myself right in front of him.”

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Her bones melted just thinking about it. The idea made her crazy hot, too. Rising on her toes, wrapping her arms around Mac, she whispered, “You don’t think I’m a freak because I like it kinky?”

“If you are, then so am I, because now that I’ve gotten used to the idea, I want it.” He pulled back. “It’ll be the spice, but you better be prepared for a lot of making love in our own bed, too. Because I do want you, and I’m not like my brother; watching will never be enough.” He held her chin, kissed the tip of her nose. “Let Isabel know we’re a team, baby.”

Her heart filled her chest. Kern couldn’t stay with her, but he’d left something miraculous behind. Mac.

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The Wrong Kind of Man

THE WRONG KIND OF MAN

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1

CLEO CARPENTER RUBBED HER TEMPLE. HER HEAD THROBBED WITH an ache that hadn’t gone away since Heidi had turned fourteen. Was that some magical age where all mothers and daughters went from being BFFs to mortal enemies overnight?

Heidi’s room looked like a hurricane had blown through, tossing clothes, shoes, purses, books, makeup, and school papers over every surface. Cleo wasn’t even going to tackle that messy subject.

“You don’t trust me,” Heidi said, eyes narrowed, hands militantly on her hips. That was true. She’d caught her daughter in more than one lie. But say that aloud? Not. “I still want to check with Cat’s mom to make sure the sleepover is convenient.”

She so did not have time for this. With exactly one and a half hours between her day job as a receptionist and her evening gig as a waitress, Cleo barely had time to eat, change, brush her teeth, put her hair up, and make the half hour drive from Palo Alto to the restaurant up on Skyline overlooking Silicon Valley. God, she was tired. But dammit, she needed to make sure there really was a Halloween slumber party.

“Fine.” Heidi thrust the cell phone at her. “Call her.”

Cleo couldn’t afford the extra cell phone for Heidi, but she’d found her daughter had gotten into all sorts of trouble when she could use the well-if-I’dhad-a-cell-phone-to-let-you-know excuse. Now Heidi had a cell phone, and she still got into trouble.

Cleo prayed for patience. Actually, she wished she’d never let Heidi go to public high school in the first place. Heidi had fallen in with the wrong crowd, fast boys and loose girls, and after the first six months of her freshman year, Cleo yanked her back to the private Christian school she’d attended through eighth grade. Heidi absolutely hated her for it.

“I want her mother’s number,” Cleo enunciated, her teeth gritted, “not Cat’s number.”

“Oh, fine.” There was such derision in the word. Heidi stomped to the computer to check her online address book. Cleo had purchased the used PC

when she realized that sending Heidi to the library to do her Internet research 88

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for this anthropology essay or that history paper meant all sorts of excuses for staying out past her curfew.

Booting up was slow as molasses, or that was how it felt. Cleo couldn’t keep up, couldn’t make ends meet. Private school was killing her. They lived with her mother in the three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath house Cleo had grown up in, which, thank God, was paid off. Cleo, however, took care of the maintenance since her mom was on a fixed income. The house was more than fifty years old. Everything was breaking down. She’d wanted her mother to sell. In Palo Alto, it was worth a fortune, but Ma claimed she wasn’t leaving until they carried her out in a box.

Heidi finally came up with the phone number. “Here.” “Thank you.” Cleo took the scrap of paper and punched in the call. “Hi, yes, it’s Cleo Carpenter. Heidi told me about the party.” Heidi glared at her, daring her to say she was checking up. “Well, good, I’m so glad.” Yes, Cat’s mom had agreed, this was a supervised sleepover. “Would you like me to send her over with some snacks or something?” Cleo offered. Listening, Heidi rolled her eyes. “All right, well, I’ll drop her off in a few minutes. What time shall I collect her in the morning?”

Heidi glared at the timetable. “Yes, wonderful, thanks. Bye-bye.”

Cleo rang off and snapped the phone closed.

Heidi held out her hand. “Satisfied?”

“Excuse me, but I don’t like that tone.” Her daughter had never been a rude child. But over the last few months, she’d picked up the nasty habit from somewhere.

“I’m so sorry, Mother,” Heidi said sweetly. “I’m very happy that you checked up on me so now you know I’m not lying or making up stories or sneaking out with boys.” Then she turned on her heel and stomped to her vanity to trowel on more eyeliner.

Heidi would be such a pretty girl without all that black makeup. A couple of inches taller than Cleo’s five foot six, she was statuesque but waiflike. Cleo worried about what she was eating. She had Cleo’s black hair, but hers was silky, falling to her waist. Yet more often than not, Heidi wore it pulled back in a messy, unkempt, and unattractive ponytail.

Cleo had never felt so helpless in her life. Nothing she said or did was right.

“Be ready in ten minutes. I’ll drop you off on my way to work.” She’d probably end up being ten minutes late at the restaurant, but it couldn’t be helped. 89