Shelter Mountain (32 page)

But he’d said nothing, opting for a more romantic approach, surprising her in the middle of the day, wooing her, seducing her. She had also known that Brie would be out with Mike for most of the day, and Mel was not shy. She could have suggested they take advantage of the opportunity. And she hadn’t.

How does a guy know when his wife is ready for sex, right after having a baby? He knew the postpartum bleeding had long since stopped because he was the guy who threw the daily trash into the back of his truck to take into town to pitch in the Dumpster. Those little Peripads had dwindled and disappeared, replaced by more of the neat little disposable diaper bundles. And Mel’s movements had gone from slow to spry; she had stopped com
plaining about soreness and there were no more bathtub soaks as of at least three weeks ago.

The closer he got to the cabin, the more thought he gave this adventure. She was having her appointment with John Stone in less than a week to be sure everything was all right after the birth—she was undoubtedly waiting for that. When he got there, he found her finishing up with David’s bath in the kitchen. “Well, well,” she said, smiling. “I don’t often see you in the middle of the morning.”

“It’s real quiet at the bar,” he said idly.

“When I’m finished here, I have to feed David and put him down,” she said. And then she cooed and smiled and made faces at the baby, consumed by his needs. “Then I’ll get to you,” she said. Again, she had her face in David’s, kissing him, making funny little noises at him.

Jack went out onto the porch. He sat on the steps and hung his head. He felt like a brute. Like a horny bull who was about to steal the milk out of his baby’s mouth. This was no way to claim your conjugal rights—by jumping on the first opportunity you saw to take advantage of your own wife.

He took a deep breath and lectured himself. Have a cup of coffee with your woman, he said to himself. Spend a little time with her, talk to her, work into the conversation in a soft and gentlemanly manner that you can’t wait for her to be ready to take you into her bed again, in that meaningful way. Ask her if she was waiting for an all-clear from her doctor, and for God’s sake, take it slow. Give her all the time she needs—everything will be better that way. Being too hot to handle wasn’t going to win any points now—she had a baby to think about.

“What are you doing out there?”

He turned to see her standing in the cabin door, wearing only his shirt. His heart was going to explode. He took in her full chest, her slim legs.

“You don’t even have your boots off. I could have sworn you showed up to get reacquainted with your wife’s body.”

He swallowed. “Is that gonna happen?” he asked tentatively. Hopefully.

“Not a moment too soon,” she said. And she turned and walked back into the house.

His boots were off on the porch, his shirt was off in the living room, his pants were down and kicked away in the bedroom doorway.

Mel lay back on the bed, barely covered by his shirt. She began to slowly unbutton it, starting at the top. Easy, boy, he told himself. You’d better find out what you’re dealing with. She did just have a baby. He lay down beside her, brought her against him and, kissing her, holding her, he asked, “Are you okay with this? You’re sure?”

“Jack, I’ll never be exactly as I was before the baby. My body has changed.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Your body is amazing to me. After what you did—I’m almost envious, in a weird way. I worship this body.”

She laughed at him. “You know the last two or three months?”

“Yeah?”

“All the things we would have done if we hadn’t been so incredibly pregnant? If we hadn’t just had a baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please do all those things to me now? One at a time. Until you’re almost dead from exhaustion. Please?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She opened the shirt to reveal her naked body, the sight of which he drank in greedily. She was fuller, rounder, so lush; there was a new richness to her shape that blew his mind. “Get started, big boy. I am insane, I want you so bad.”

“Melinda,” he said, filling his hands with her sweet body. “Have I told you how much I like being married to you?”

“Shh. Just show me.”

Mike hadn’t asked that the wine be packed in the picnic to get Brie relaxed or talking. He’d just thought it would be a nice touch, since he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be fishing. And he was right about that. Instead, they drove through a redwood grove and down to the lower, more shallow, end of the river where the bank was wide and peppered with large rocks. He spread a blanket against a huge boulder near the river’s edge, under the canopy of tall trees. And there wasn’t much to do on a picnic besides talk, and at her insistence, attempt the guitar. His music was so rusty, he hated subjecting her to it, but she seemed not to notice his many mistakes. She leaned back against the boulder and closed her eyes, her lips curved in a half smile, listening to him play. In years gone by, Mike would’ve had her down on the blanket by now—but those were years gone by.

It was hard to imagine this tiny, young-looking woman as one of the toughest prosecutors in the Sacramento Valley. She was a little thing in slim jeans and moccasins, a light blue chambray shirt tied at the waist. Her hair was loose, a thick, light-brown mane that fell down her back almost to her waist. She had the most flawless ivory skin that would feel like silk under a man’s hands. As he played, she let her warm brown eyes drift closed; her rosy lips tilted in appreciation.

Brie shivered in the breeze and Mike put aside the guitar. He went back to the car and got his jacket out of the backseat. He took it to her, spreading it over her shoulders, and watched, his eyes warming, as she pulled it tighter around her. Then he saw her sniff the collar and he grew weak. He did not think of her as a sister.

“Judging by your music, the arm is almost fully recovered,” she said.

“Almost back,” he said, sitting on the blanket again. “I think I’m going to recover one hundred percent, or damn close.”

“And everything else is healed, right?”

“Not everything,” he surprised himself by saying. “Every once in a while I have trouble getting the right word and I worry about my brain—but I notice that more than anyone else, so I could be overreacting. And I was shot in the groin. Bad spot.”

“Oh,” she said. He could tell she didn’t want to ask.

“Nothing life-threatening,” he said. Nothing for you to worry about, he wanted to add. You don’t have to go to Jack and ask if they shot it off.

“And you’re thinking of staying here?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “My friends are here. It’s quiet and peaceful. There’s no pressure.” He laughed a little. “I’ve had enough of that. I’ve lived in your world. When I was on the job, I worked with a lot of D.A.’s. You’re what—thirty? Thirty-one? And locking people up for a living?”

“As many as possible. And I’m thirty. Thirty and already married and divorced.”

“Hey, that’s not exactly a scar on your face, Brie. The way Jack tells it, it didn’t have anything to do with you.”

“How does Jack tell it?” she asked him.

Mike looked down. Blunder number two, he thought. First, the shot to the groin, then the divorce tales. He raised his eyes. “Jack said that Brad wanted the divorce. That you were devastated.”

“Brad cheated on me with my best friend,” she said. “He left me and moved in with her and I pay him alimony. Her husband pays her alimony and child support. I gave him a big check for his half of the house and you know what he
said? He said, ‘Brie, I hope we can be friends.’” She gave a little laugh that carried all the weight of her anger.

“Ah,
Dios,
” he said. “I’m so sorry that happened.
Tu no mereces esto.
You don’t deserve that,” he translated.

“What is it with some men?” she asked him angrily. “Why would a guy do something like that?”

He laughed ruefully. “At least I never did that,” he said, mostly to himself. And then he wondered how he had managed to escape that indiscretion.

“I’m sure you have a multitude of things to be forgiven for,” she said.

“You know what, Brie? I made so many mistakes, I can’t even count ’em. And I know better than to think I’ll ever be forgiven. If I made a million mistakes, I had at least that many excuses. Brad might end up like me—really sorry. And really too late.”

“Cops,” she said with some disgust. “You guys.”

“Aw, come on—it’s not just cops. Although, I’ll grant you, a lot of guys with slick uniforms and a gun can make it with the girls pretty easy. But if that’s the kind of guy he turned out to be, you’re better off.”

“Are your ex-wives better off without you?”

“You have no idea,” he answered with an embarrassed shake of his head.

“Small comfort,” she said.

“Brie, you’re beautiful and brilliant and strong. A man who would cheat on someone like you, just flat-ass doesn’t deserve you.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “You are too valuable, Brie, to be stuck with a man like that.”

She pulled her hand out from under his. “And what did you do to screw up your marriages?”

“I was completely irresponsible,” he said. “I knew how to be a lover, not how to love. Men take such a long time to become men, I think. Women have it easier—you at least grow up before you’re old.”

“You think you’ve finally grown up, huh?”

“Possibly,” he said with a shrug. “Nearly getting killed tends to get your attention.”

“What if you could start over? What would you change?”

He thought for a moment. “For starters, I wouldn’t marry so fast. Not until I found the right woman, the kind of feeling that leaves no doubt. Jack did it right—he avoided commitment until the real thing came along. So did Preacher, although I’m not sure he did that on purpose. It’s obvious they found that lifetime thing, that forever thing, though it didn’t come to either of them early. Or easily. I didn’t wait for that. I prowled and hunted, but I think the hunt was more important to me than what I would catch.” He lifted his dark brows. “I admit I was stupid. Oh,
mija,
you don’t know what I’d give to start over.” He leaned toward her and said, “If I had a woman like you in my life, I think I would know what I had.”

She laughed at him. “Good God, you’re so obvious. You’re coming on to me!”

Some habits die so hard, he thought. But he was close enough to smell her sweet perfume and it addled his brain a little bit. “
Dios,
no! I wouldn’t dare! I’m admiring you, that’s all.”

“Well, you can stop admiring me—I’m never getting within a hundred miles of another one of you.”

“Another one of—me?”

“You’ve been through two wives and a million other women. Not exactly a good résumé, Mike.”

He leaned back on his hands and smiled at her. “For a little while, I thought you liked me.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “I’m not about to be tricked by a flirtatious man.”

He shrugged. “If you are, it will be kept in confidence, Brie,” he said, smiling at her.

“This is a beautiful place,” she said. “Why are there no fishermen?”

“It’s too shallow here for the bigger fish. This is where the young people come to be alone,” he said. “Down here where the grass is soft, the trees tall, and there are a few large boulders to hide behind. The river whispers past them while they whisper to each other. That old rock you’re leaning against—it has seen some delicious things.”

“The most delicious thing it’s going to see today is Preacher’s lunch,” she said, but she smiled when she said it.

“Thank God,” he said, teasing. “I admit, I was pretty worried. I wondered—if I gave you wine and music and you began to seduce me, how would I—”

“Get out of it?” she asked, amused.

“Not exactly,
mija.
” He grinned. “How would I keep Jack from killing me.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Mike, it’s not personal, but Jack isn’t in charge of what I do. He thinks he is. But he’s not.”

“Big brothers,” Mike said. “Very annoying people…” Then he sobered and said, “I am sorry about the divorce, Brie. And the trial. I don’t know many of the details, but Jack said it was a terrible experience for you.”

“Worse than terrible,” she said. She pulled her hair out of the collar of his jacket and shook it down her back, looking upward. He found himself hoping a few strands would remain when he reclaimed it. “There are a lot of scary people out there to put away, some worse than others. It was a hard one to lose…one of the biggest trials of my career—a serial rapist—and I lost. He walked, and he’s guilty as hell. That’s not going to happen to me again.”

“What went wrong?”

“My witnesses, my victims ran like rabbits. I can’t prove it, but I suspect he threatened them. If I ever get
another crack at him, I’m going to put him away for life. But that kind of criminal just pulls a territorial. He’s going to get out of town—it’s what they do.”

“It took a lot of strength to take that on,” he said in admiration. “You’re amazing.” He stood up and put out his hand to her. “You’re welcome to come back in a little while and break my heart,
mija,
” he said. “But right now, let’s go back to town. Let’s grab a cup of coffee and give the lovers another hour together.”

“Breaking a few hearts interests me,” she said, putting her hand in his to stand. But when they were both standing, she didn’t pull her hand away.

He should have let go and stooped to gather up their blanket, but he didn’t want to release her hand, small and soft but strong in his. He smiled at her. “I think the last time I had this feeling come over me when a girl held my hand, I was thirteen. You’ll be good at it, I think. Breaking hearts.” Still, she didn’t pull away, didn’t break the spell. It was he who finally let go, stooping to close up their basket, pick up the blanket. He handed her the folded blanket. “Thank you for today, Brie.”

“It was a nice day,” she said, her smile genuine. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble finding the right word.”

And, Mike thought, there are no words for what I’m starting to feel….