Reckless Endangerment (32 page)

Gwen laughed and wrapped her in a hug that widened Hope’s eyes to the point of bulging from her face.  “Wife?  Married?  Do you have any idea how happy I am?  I feel like God granted us a miracle.”

Dude peed on the floor.  

Chapter Nineteen

She gnawed on her lower lip as her new family mixed with the old.  Way too much family all at once for someone accustomed to being a loner.  Although she liked to quote John Lennon by saying chaos was a friend of hers, she hated admitting she preferred bombs over...this...whatever this was.  Normal, she supposed with a shrug and a sigh.  Strange how that terrified her. 

“I like seeing you like this,” Becky said with an odd gleam in her eye.

“Like what?”

“Baffled, out of your element.”  Becky unpacked a bag of groceries she’d brought over to the loft.  “Ms. Always-in-Control isn’t for once.  It’s refreshing to know you have a weakness.”


“Nice. Very sisterly of you.”  She eyed the tomatoes and other vegetables with skepticism, not bothering to help unload the unsolicited merchandise.  “You thought he’d starve, didn’t you? Is that why you showed up with an entourage first thing in the morning?  Think your patient was in jeopardy?”

Becky hesitated in mid-motion and met her gaze with caution.  “Actually, I thought I’d check on you...you looked like hell last night and I felt bad about forcing Michael on you.  I brought the groceries because I know you’ve been busy working and haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

Uncomfortable with this entire situation, she said nothing and looked around the living room.  Warren and Miles stood by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room talking softly to one another.  She heard Dalton, Gwen, Michael and her nephews down the hallway, probably checking out Dalton’s room.  Dude, content after his brief walk, chewed on his squirrel toy in the still empty dining room. 

She had no idea what to do.  It had been years since she’d been around family--well, the blood-related kind--and it felt unnatural. 

“I probably should have let you handle this situation yourself,” Becky mumbled.  “You’ve been keeping the marriage a secret all of this time...it should have been your call when to announce it, especially to his family.  Sorry.”

She twisted her head and stared at her sister.  Maybe they were more alike than either wanted to admit, both bullies in disguise.  “It is what it is.  Michael must have forgotten they were coming up this weekend.  It’s a shock for everyone, I suppose.”

Becky leaned her hip against the granite counter, not breaking eye contact.  “Are you really going to stay in Denver?  This isn’t just a break for you?  You’re home for good?”

“That’s the plan, although I refuse to make promises.”  She grinned, wondering if it were too soon for a beer.  Considering it wasn’t even 8AM, she assumed it was. 

Becky nodded slowly, her spiky hair tamer today and the circles gone from beneath her eyes.  “Maybe we can have a girls’ night sometime.  Go out for margaritas or something.  Or for a mani-pedi.  Just the two of us, no Devon.”

Her grin became a smile at the idea.  “You really are a bully, you know that right?  Your profession suits you.”

“So does yours.”  Becky smiled, too. 

She shoved her hands through her hair before noticing the champagne Becky had placed on the counter.  “Are you going to call me an alcoholic if I suggest a mimosa?”

“Hell, no.  Why do you think I brought it over?”  Becky laughed as she uncorked the bottle.  “It’s the least I could do after telling the Cedars your secret.  Consider it a peace offering.”

She reached inside the refrigerator for the orange juice and laughed. “Girls’ night out sounds fun.  I can’t remember the last time I did anything like that.”

Becky squeezed her upper arm until she turned around. 

Surprised at the unshed tears in her sister’s eyes, she flinched back.  It’s always something with this crew.  No matter what she did, even when trying her very best to be ‘normal’, she managed to hurt someone’s feelings.  This is exactly why she preferred her work friends who rarely, if ever, got offended by anything she said.  “Now what did I do?”

“Nothing.”  Becky shrugged and started mixing them each a mimosa in regular glasses so it didn’t attract attention.

“You’re a horrible liar.  What did I say that’s making you sad?” She grabbed the drink with an irritated sigh.  “This is going to be a long day, I feel it.”

“I’m not sad and I’m not lying.  I’m fine.  I just...”

There it was...the word ‘just’.  “What?  Finish your sentence.”

“Aside from Michael and your colleagues, don’t you have any friends, Hope?  You were a popular kid in school, always had a posse.  Now you’re all about work...you seem so sad.”

“I’m not sad.”  She shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling creeping back up her spine.  “And there’s nothing wrong with having work friends, we spend a lot of time together.  It’s natural.  Where exactly was I going to have a mani-pedi in Afghanistan?”

“What about New York?  You lived there for years.”

“I had a studio apartment and a post office box there.  I wouldn’t call it living.”  She drank the mimosa in one gulp. 

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.  We’re really different, aren’t we?”

“Funny you say that.  A moment ago, I was thinking how similar we actually are.” 

“Mom, is Dalton our cousin?”  Becky’s son, Nathan, ran into the kitchen and skittered to a stop, his black hair falling into his eyes as he smiled between them both. 

She needed a moment alone.  Discarding the glass in the sink, she left Becky to answer the questions while she retreated to the bedroom.  So much for an easygoing morning getting to know her husband again.  She closed the door as softly as she could before collapsing back onto the bed. 

“Too much at once, isn’t it?” Michael asked from the corner of the room.

She rose up on her elbows and looked at him.  “You’re hiding, too?”

“Yep.”  His slow smile reminded her why she’d given up the fast lane and why the chaos outside the door was worth it.  “For being a supposedly fearless duo, look at us hiding out behind closed doors.”

“What do you think about Santa Fe?  They’d have to drive to see us...no unexpected visits early in the morning.”  She loved looking at him, couldn’t quite believe that he was here. 

“They’re over-the-top, that’s for sure.”  He dropped his hands on her knees and smiled up at her. “I forgot they were coming this weekend. It’s been a nutty week, confusing, a lot to handle.  Sorry about all of this.”

She pushed her hands through his hair, no longer caring about their guests.  “It has been a nutty week, even by our standards.  I heard mention of a picnic.”

“A picnic?  God, no.”  Laughter sparkled in his eyes as he moved his hands over her thighs.  “They’re way too normal for us.  Pretty soon we’ll be hosting Sunday dinners.”

“Becky suggested we go on a girls’ night out.”

“Does she realize that your idea of a girls’ night out is playing undercover cop with Devon?”  He winked, his smile widening.  “You never did fill me in on what you found out last night when you sneaked away from me.”

“Now’s not the time.”  She indulged in stroking her fingertips over the scar on his forehead.  “I love you, babe.  Did Dalton like his room?”

“Are you kidding? He loved it, can’t quite believe he’ll be living here, neither can I.  It’s all been a lot to take in, know what I mean?”  His smile faded.  “That’s why we’re both hiding, isn’t it?  We haven’t had time to figure out how to do this.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve always been one to wing it so...guess this isn’t that different.” She slid from the side of the bed and into his lap.  “We should go back out so they don’t start thinking we’re damaged beyond repair.  What does Dalton think about us?  About me being his step-mom?”

She nearly chocked on the word ‘mom’. 

“Truthfully?”  He looked as nervous about answering as she had about asking.

“Yeah, I can take it.”

“I have no idea.”  He shrugged.  “I have to get to know my son again, can’t read his signals, think he’s still a bit scared of me.  At least you two hung out the other day...I haven’t even done that.  And now there’s this custody fight and—” 


“Stop.”  She placed a finger over his lips. “Gannon won’t be a problem. Trust me.  As for Dalton, it looks like we all have some adapting to do. We can do it. I know we can.”

“You have more faith than I do.”

“Beats the alternative.” She kissed him just as someone opened the door.

“Okay, you two, you can’t hide from us forever,” Becky said.  “We’re here to celebrate.”

“Bully,” Michael whispered against Hope’s lips, eyes wide open. “Must run in the family.”

“Shut-up.” She punched him in the shoulder before raising her head to meet her sister’s gaze.  “We’ll be out.  We just needed to get our bearings.”

Becky narrowed her eyes before looking at the unmade bed.  “Did you do your exercises yet, Colonel?  Taken your medication? Did you two just get up right before we arrived?”  

“Why are you Shane women trying to keep me drugged? I’m fine.  It’s all good.”  Irritation flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t look at Becky. 

Something was wrong, she could tell.  Something that had nothing to do with their unexpected guests. 

“We’ll be right there, Becky. Why don’t you all go down and check out Dalton’s room again?”  Without looking away from him, she smoothed her hands over his broad shoulders.  “You’re not just in here hiding from family, are you?  What’s wrong?  No one’s gonna fault you for being in pain or needing something.  For God’s sake, a week ago you were leaving Walter Reed.”

He sighed, the irritation in his brown eyes softening to confusion.  “I don’t want to need pain meds. I want to be free of all of it, can you understand that?  This is my home now.  I’m seeing what life can be like with you, Dalton, that office space, the family out there and I want to just start it, not deal with medication and exercises and the institute and this wheelchair.  It’s not self-pity, babe.  It’s not.”

“But you need your medication, don’t you?”  She loved touching his broad shoulders, thought she’d always need to be within an arm’s length of him.    

He nodded, looking annoyed with the admission.  “I’m not sure I should be here yet.  I’m sorry.”

“People sure are apologizing to me today.  It’s kind of freaking me out.  Stop it.”  She stood and walked toward the kitchen where she’d left his pill bottles stuffed in her messenger bag.  He wouldn’t need to admit anything if she’d bothered to do anything besides have sex and work.  Maybe she should try slowing down for ten damn minutes to organize the things he needed.

“I love your home,” Gwen said from behind her as she was searching her bag with trembling hands.  “I know we barged in unexpectedly, that there’s a lot you probably need to do, probably want to catch up with Michael.”

She clenched the pill bottles in her hand, closed her eyes and coached herself to relax.  But then it clicked...her agitation felt like something much bigger than annoyance at being interrupted.  She’d seen Gannon last night, knew he was behind the human trafficking ring and understood that he’d been the one who attacked her.  She had a lot to lose if this story blew up in her face.  She turned and looked Gwen in the eye. 

“Will you take these to Michael?  He needs them and I have a quick phone call to make.  And, by the way, I’m glad you’re here.  It’s good for all of us.”  She tried to smile but fear had begun to swell up in her chest with the simple idea that Gannon was more evil than she’d realized. 

With a quick look at the three boys who now played with Dude, she escaped to her office where she called Devon. 

“Can’t you simply relax and enjoy the day with your husband?” Devon answered the phone, sounding more than a little annoyed with her.  “My God, it’s Saturday and we were out until late last night, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I need you to find out when Byron Gannon married his wife...or if it’s even true.  It’s too much of a coincidence that his wife is my stepson’s mother. Where did she come from?  Why does she suddenly want custody?  And one more thing...what’s his connection to our source?  Someone close to me is a snitch, I just feel it.  We only started working on this story a month ago.”

After a long silence, Devon sighed.  “And he knew you were married even though that’s been a national secret all of this time.  That’s suspicious.  You’re right...too many coincidences.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, gaze focused on one of her discarded Emmy’s.  Gut instinct proved 100% accurate, 100% of the time. 

“Something is off about this entire thing.  Callie...Dalton...too much of a coincidence, that’s all.  Someone knew about my Achilles Heel before last week, knew I’d be in Denver, knew I’d pick up this story.”  Suddenly paranoid about her phone for reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt sick to her stomach.  “We’re going for a picnic—”