Untraceable (17 page)

I thought of
Jonathan as sincere, but for some reason Micah still didn’t trust
him, and I wasn’t going to simply ignore my husband’s feelings on
the matter. “If you are this suspicious about him, then we’ll hire
someone else.”

He was studying me
for such a long while that I wondered what he was thinking. It
seemed like it had been forever since I had gazed intently into his
beautiful face, the creamy skin, the gently waved brown hair, the
scar above his right eyebrow, and the one across his perfectly
shaped chin, but there were also two newer scars that were only
about eight months old. There was a vertical scar within his right
eyebrow and a hair-thin line along the cheekbone under his left
eye. I cupped his face and allowed my thumb to caress the one on
his cheek. His long black lashes closed slowly over the limpid
green pools and then reopened.

“These are Ryan’s,
aren’t they?” I raised my lips to kiss the scar in his
eyebrow.

“Yeah, and I’d
take a million more of them if I could make yours go
away.”

“Mine don’t bother
me anymore.”

“They still bother
me,” he said it so quietly that it seemed he was speaking only to
himself. “Leese, we’ll keep Jonathan a little bit longer. I’ve got
someone checking to make sure he’s legit. But, if I find one flaw,
he’s done; we’ll hire someone local.”

“Agreed,” I
sighed.

“I was expecting
more of a fight out of you over this,” he
admitted.

“Why? I barely
know him.”

“You don’t find
him attractive?”

I never saw that
line coming. I blinked once, tilted my chin down, and gave him a
hard look. Was this whole ‘I’m in the mafia and carry a big gun’
thing because of jealousy? Was Jonathan a good-looking guy? Yeah,
but I hadn’t given that a thought until now. How could Micah think
that I would even be looking at another guy for those reasons when
I had him? My husband wasn’t handsome; he was beautiful, and
stunning and—

“Leese?” he had a
strange lilt to his voice.

“You’ve got to be
kidding. Is that what this has all been about?”

“No,” he
responded, but it was a little sheepish. “I just thought that
maybe—”

“Micah Gavarreen!
Did you honestly think… I didn’t approach him, he approached
me!”

“That I can
understand why, but—”

“Oh, yeah, sure.
I’m one hot, pregnant momma,” I snapped.

He had me down on
my back on the mattress in a flash, hovering just above me. “You
have no idea what you look like, do you? One smile from your
beautiful face sends a tingle through me every time. That sexy, shy
glance you do when you’re feeling insecure is like someone removing
all the air from my lungs. The expression of wonder that comes over
you when the baby moves inside you, is so pure and innocent. I just
fall to pieces when I watch you grab someone’s hand to let them
touch your stomach because I can’t grasp how much you love the
experience of my child inside you. I ask myself every day; why me?
Then I see someone like Jonathan, or Ryan, or the guy who bags our
groceries, or the stranger who holds a door open for you, or
whoever and I wonder when are you going to wake up and realize I’m
not worthy to be the person you chose to spend forever
with?”

“You know you
don’t have the market cornered on jealousy,” I softly answered. “I
can’t even imagine you being friends with a woman without falling
apart. I see it in women’s faces all the time when we go out
together, and it kills me. Don’t you notice the blush that comes
over them when you say hello or turn your head their direction?
They’re all looking at you and wishing I’d drop dead so someone
else could have a turn. I can almost hear their thoughts when they
see us and their thinking they’d carry your baby, too—if you’d only
ask. But as far as Jonathan goes, no I’m not attracted to him. And
you’re right; I’m a sucker for a sad story. I just can’t see any
reason for someone to tell
that
kind of
lie.”

“I don’t think
we’re gonna make it to the shower,” he breathed as his face
descended to my neck and began kissing it hungrily, “at least not
for a while.”

I moaned and
completely relaxed under his caress. I liked this kind of
conversation; the ones
without
words,
because showing the love was so much more pleasurable than trying
to explain it.

When Monday came
around, Jonathan called to say he had made a rendering of the
design and would like to show it to us and then go see the
property. Micah wanted to do them both at once so he told him to
meet us at the house and we would drive out to our little piece of
heaven. He was still wary of Jonathan, but Celeste had found the
Rossi Architectural Firm in the town he mentioned, and, so far,
what he had said to Micah (in Italian) about working at his
father’s firm seemed to be checking out.

The fence
contractor had finished putting up the chain link and now a large
gate blocked anyone from driving onto the property. Micah unlocked
it, but left the gate open as we drove back to the
lake.

“I can see why you
chose this spot,” Jonathan stated as he got out of his car. “It is
perfetto.”

Micah
smiled.

Jonathan unrolled
a large colored sketch of the house we had chosen, and then,
underneath that one was a different view from the guest homes and
finally there was a basic site plan showing the way all three homes
would be laid out in relation to each other. I could understand now
what he meant when he said it would be like a small village; it was
very charming.

“If this interests
you, I would like to get a key to the gate so I can bring a friend
of mine out here and we can shoot some elevations to make sure
where you want to put the house is not too low. I will do a more
accurate plan to include the driveway in and to incorporate some of
these oaks in the layout of the buildings.”

I wasn’t going to
say a word. This was totally up to Micah if he wanted to keep
Jonathan working for us. It took Micah long enough to figure out I
was remaining silent as the three of us stood their looking at each
other like a bunch of idiots.

“Yeah, that would
be okay,” Micah began to say as he was unwinding an extra gate key
from his key ring.

“You do not have
to keep me on as your designer. I will understand if you want to
hire someone else.” He evidently saw the hesitation from both of
us.

“Trust me,” Micah
said as he handed Jonathan the key, “If I change my mind, you’ll be
the first to know it.

Jonathan smiled as
he took the key, “Somehow, I believe you.”

We all laughed at
that statement.

We drove back to
the highway and Jonathan told us goodbye and left. Micah was just
locking the gate when a familiar, faded yellow pickup truck pulled
off the road and near the car.

Trent was waving
as he climbed out, “Micah, Leese; I was wondering when I saw the
fence going up if you two bought this. Jeanie is going to flip when
I tell her.”

Micah shook his
hand with a big smile, “Well do us a favor and tell her we would
prefer not to have everyone in town know who their new neighbors
are going to be—at least not for a while.”

“I can understand.
So are you going to build pretty soon?”

“Yeah, I think
some time next March we should be ready to move in. We’ll invite
you and Jeanie over when we get it finished.”

I didn’t mean to
be so surprised, but Micah had taken an immediate liking to Trent
from the first day we met him, and it was good to see him making
friends with someone who wasn’t a mobster.

“Really? Let me
give you our number. Listen, if you’d like to learn the hot spots
on the lake to fish, I could bring my boat out sometime—we don’t
have to wait for the house to get done.”

“That sounds good.
I don’t mind you fishing on the lake. We only had the fence put up
so that when they break ground on the house they can keep all the
equipment and materials secure.” He pulled the last gate key from
his ring and handed it to Trent, “Feel free to fish out here
anytime, just you and Jeanie, though.”

“Awesome. Thanks
man,” he said, accepting the key. “How about Saturday we get you
out on the water?”

Micah looked at
me.

“Is Jeanie
available Saturday? Maybe we could picnic while you guys
fish?”

“Nah, she’s out of
town at her sister’s and won’t be back for another week. But we
could plan that for another time; I know she’d love
it.”

“You guys go
fishing Saturday—I’ve got some things to do
anyway.”

Trent grabbed his
cell phone and asked Micah for his cell number. He immediately
punched it in and rang Micah’s phone. “There now we have each
other’s number,” he stated as they saved the
information.

“I’ll call you
Friday, just to confirm.”

We waved goodbye
and climbed back into the Vet and pulled onto the
asphalt.

“We’re gonna have
to stop on the way home and have a copy made of your key,” he
stated. “I hadn’t planned on giving both of mine
away.”

“So you fish?” I
asked, ignoring the key situation.

“I did when I was
ten or eleven years old. It was fun then, I suppose it hasn’t
changed too much.”

“So you can teach
me, right?”

“You want to learn
how to fish? Somehow, I just can’t picture that. I’ll make you bait
your own hook—I don’t go for sissy stuff.”

I laughed and gave
him a very honest look, “Put me behind the wheel of this car and
I’ll make you beg for ‘sissy’ stuff.”

A slow, long grin
crept onto his face, “True. I don’t think you have a sissy bone in
your body.”

“I want to drive
my car,” I blurted. “I’m not going to race it, or wreck it,
or—”

“Or challenge
Jonathan to a race?” he finished for me, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve
seen you sizing up the Ferrari. You don’t have to prove you have
the faster car—Guinness already did.”

“It would be fun
to race, but I wouldn’t do that now,” I stated, trying to get the
seatbelt to adjust over my expanding form. “I just miss driving it.
Do you think I’m a bad driver?”

“Completely the
opposite actually, but it’s how much temptation you can
stand.”

I was thinking
about using Ryan for an example to prove my ability to withstand
temptation, but I really wanted to avoid ever telling him that I
came so close to taking that forbidden step. Maybe he was right.
Maybe I needed to learn to avoid temptation, instead of keeping it
as close to me as a gas pedal to my shoe. “It’s just fun to drive,
that’s all.” I looked out the window and sighed. “If I’m not going
to get to drive it anymore than maybe I should sell it.” Man, I
hated to say that, but what good was it if all I could do was look
at it?

I felt his warm
touch as he gripped my left hand.

“See what I mean
about feeling like I’m taking away your ability to be yourself.
Don’t sell it, yet. I know you can handle it. After the baby is
born, I’ll accept whatever you want to do with it, other than
putting a baby seat in it.”

“I wouldn’t do
that.” I knew he was teasing, but I could tease, too. “Front air
bags, remember?” I laughed. “Actually, I’m considering getting rid
of both of my cars and finding a—a nice sedan.”

“If you do that,
you’ll ruin my anniversary gift. I don’t need to have my Vet. If
I’m going to pick on you about responsible driving, I need to take
my own advice, too.”

“You love this
car,” I argued. “I don’t want you to—”

“I already picked
out the new car for you, and even though I don’t need the money
from the trade in, I felt horrible about restricting your fun
without touching mine.”

“Martyrdom is
appreciated, but completely unnecessary—keep the Vet. So, I have to
wait until our anniversary to find out what you’re buying,
huh?”