Washington handed Bosco to Rick and pulled out his cell phone. “Looks like you chose the wrong target this time.”
“I’ll be out within hours,” Bosco bragged.
Rick’s face hardened. “Don’t bet on it.”
Washington’s team showed up within twenty minutes. Bosco was loaded into a squad car and hauled away to jail. Michael had given his statement to Washington and promised to do his part to convict Bosco. Since Washington and Rick had witnessed Bosco try to kill Michael, it wasn’t just Michael’s word against the gunman’s.
Then it was only Michael and Rick.
“Thanks for saving my life,” Michael said.
“You were doing a pretty good job of saving your own life.”
“It was a stand-off. You made the difference.”
“It was pretty dumb to jump a guy with a gun,” Rick scolded, then admitted, “I almost had heart failure.”
“He made me mad,” Michael said.
“When he threatened Mom, me and Ileana,” Rick guessed.
“Yeah,” Michael admitted.
Rick wrapped an arm around Michael. “Thanks, bro.”
“That’s what big brothers do.” Then Michael blurted. “I miss you. I’m sorry I was an unapproachable jerk.”
“I miss you, too. Just try to keep me out of your life now.”
Michael’s indecision was killing him. He sat at his desk toying with his pencil, unable to do the work his company desperately needed to survive. Three cups of coffee had only made him more jittery than the encounter with Bosco had, and hadn’t cleared his sluggish brain to think. His eyes felt hot and scratchy from lack of sleep—Ileana’s fault for teaching him the necessity of spooning.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her and worrying about her. Bad things happened in an instant. The scene with Bosco had reinforced that to him. Yesterday’s bullet could just have easily ripped through Ileana’s beautiful chest as Desiree’s. He couldn’t stand to lose her.
But he already had. He’d pushed her away yesterday, told her there was no hope. Why didn’t that thought disturb him as much as seeing her lying bleeding on the ground—like Billy, like Desiree?
Because she’d still be alive somewhere. In someone else’s arms? His pencil snapped. Like bloody hell she would. She was his.
A moment of giddy exaltation was followed by one of being plummeted into icy water.
Michael loved her.
Rick was right. Michael would die for Ileana. She was one of the people he would have died to protect this morning.
He broke out in a cold sweat. What was he going to do about this love? He didn’t want to hold her back from her heart’s desire. He didn’t want to experience the pain of a possible tragic death, yet he didn’t want to spend another night alone in his bed.
To have her, he had to risk it all. Could he do it?
Hadn’t he faced his regrets head-on in the parking garage this morning? And wasn’t Ileana one of those regrets?
The intercom startled him, causing the halves of the pencil to fly from his hands.
“Michael?” Nadine sounded tentative and a bit nasal from crying.
“What is it?”
“Ileana Alvarez Calderon is here to see you.”
Ileana. His heart nearly pounded out of his chest. He wasn’t ready to see her, yet he couldn’t wait another moment.
He swallowed and licked his dry lips. “Send her in.”
Michael straightened his suit and ran a hand down his face. He was like a teenager waiting for his prom date. The door opened. He popped to his feet like toast from a toaster. And there she was, so beautiful she made his chest ache. So exotic with those slanted cat eyes she made other parts of him ache.
“Michael.” The husky sound of his name slid up his spine like a loving caress.
Nadine stood behind Ileana, her mascara smudged from crying, so Michael couldn’t pounce on Ileana like his horny body wanted to.
He cleared his throat. “Come in, Ileana. Thanks, Nadine. Would you hold my calls, please?”
“Sure, Michael.”
Nadine shut the door, leaving Michael alone with the woman he loved. Ileana seemed stiffly formal in her caramel-colored two piece summer suit. Where did he begin?
Ileana beat him to it. “You said you could use a person like me at Citadel. I don’t mean to belittle Desiree’s death; however, I know you’ll need to replace her, and, well, I need a job.”
Confusion hit Michael. “Why do you need a job? What’s wrong with the one you have at Calderon?”
“I resigned last night. I found out my father wasn’t going to promote me.”
“Did he believe Juan Carlos was the better candidate?”
“No, the better
man
. He wants me to get married, have babies, and be a housewife. He’s wanted it all along. So I quit.”
Michael felt dizzy with hope. “You don’t want that?”
“Not the housewife part. So I was hoping for an interview. But I need to warn you, my father probably won’t give me a reference.”
Michael had to sit down. He waved Ileana to a seat and leaned against the desk. “I won’t need references. But I need to know if there will be negative repercussions if I hire you.”
Ileana shook her head. “I already thought of that. I told my Papá that punishing you would punish me. I don’t believe you have to worry.”
“Good.” His nerves were easing. This felt right, her being his partner in all the facets of his life.
“I think I should warn you, though, I have serious designs on the boss.”
Michael’s tension unwound completely. A woman like Ileana came around once in a lifetime. A man shouldn’t waste a minute of whatever time he had with her. He wouldn’t regret it. “I see.”
“You don’t have any anti-fraternization policies, do you?”
“No, and if I did I’d have to rewrite them. You see, I intend to introduce some sexual excesses of my own.”
Ileana’s smile was like the sun coming out. “Excess implies unwanted. Your attention certainly isn’t that.”
Michael took two steps to her chair, lifted her up to him and kissed her hard. Before a second had passed, Ileana wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. How had he ever thought he could live without this?
When they surfaced for air, they were both panting. Michael leaned his forehead against hers. “Will your family expect a large, Catholic wedding?”
Ileana’s breath hitched. “Probably.”
“That’ll take months, won’t it? Charlie’s did.”
She smiled beguilingly. “Probably.”
“Then you’re moving in with me today. I don’t care what your family says.”
“Okay.” She kissed him. “Will you learn Spanish for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you for as long as I have you.”
But when Ileana tried to pull his head down for another kiss, Michael held back. “I know you can’t promise not to die before we’re old.”
She sobered. “I wish I could. I wish you could promise me the same thing. But if we make the most of every moment we have together, then you’ll never regret loving me. You do love me, don’t you?”
“Of course I love you.” Michael took her in his arms.
“Then there’s no problem we can’t overcome. Families, cultural differences, all of it. Because I love you, too.”
Rick handed his infant daughter to his dad, who tucked her into the Snugli attached to his chest and cooed at her. Rick asked his wife, “You sure you’re up to this, Analise?”
She looked up from where she knelt tying her tennis shoes. “We’re not running it, we’re walking.”
“Stop fussing, Richard,” his mother ordered. She adjusted the multi-colored scarf on her bald head and kissed the baby. “This is a day of celebration. Two months cancer free.”
“Yeah, bro,” Charlie mimicked, hugging his mom. “Stop fussing.” Then he turned to Juliana and his smile faded. “You don’t look so good. Do you need the soda crackers?”
Juliana’s face turned from green to white. “No. I’m just going to sit down.” And she slumped to the concrete next to Ileana. Charlie rushed to fan her.
Michael squeezed Ileana’s waist. “You’re feeling all right, aren’t you?”
She smiled indulgently at him. “I’m fine. You’re only asking because you like to brag that I’m pregnant.”
“You’re supposed to wait until after the wedding,” Rick scolded them. He caressed his daughter’s dark head.
“It wasn’t my choice to wait eight months,” Michael responded. “I would have eloped like you did.” He and Ileana believed the baby would cross the cultural divide between him and the Calderons. And two more grandchildren were giving his mother something to focus on besides her recovery.
“Shh,” Ileana hushed him. “Here comes Mamá. You know my being pregnant for the wedding is a sore spot with her.”
Yelina Alvarez Calderon came bustling up to their group. “I am sorry to be late. I was putting a little more food on to cook.”
She took Jane Ziffkin’s hands and the two women kissed cheeks. They’d got on like a house on fire since the moment they’d been introduced at Michael and Ileana’s engagement party.
“You’re not cooking for an army, Yelina,” Mrs. Ziffkin reminded her as she greeted Joe Ziffkin. “We’re just family.”
Yelina smiled as she looked over Mrs. Ziffkin’s scarf. “You never know how much family will show up to eat. That scarf looks beautiful on you, Jane.” She reached into her large purse and pulled out a long length of gorgeous dyed silk and handed it over. “But this will look even better. For your two-month anniversary.”
“Oh, Yelina, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” They hugged and Michael’s mom glanced around. “I thought you were bringing your sister.”
Yelina lowered her voice. “She is putting on her walking shoes. She has never owned a pair before, so the going is slow. But I could not wait to see you, my daughter and my future son-in-law.”
She turned to Michael with a disapproving look on her face. Michael’s stomach clenched. Would the Calderons ever accept him?
“
Hola
, Mamá,” he said in Spanish.
“Do not think to win me with your glib tongue when my Ileana will look ridiculous at her own wedding, being large with my grandchild.” The last two words were smugly proud.
Then she smiled at Michael with the same pride. “Esteban and I have talked to the priest and he will allow us to move the ceremony ahead. The family will make the food and we will put a tent in our yard. We will be able to hold the wedding in a few weeks. It is clear you two belong together.”
Ileana squealed. “Mamá, thank you!” She hugged her mother.
Michael gave Ileana a misty smile and hugged his future mother-in-law. “
Gracias
, Mamá.”
Yelina hooked arms with Michael’s mother. “We will shop, you and I. I will take you to the best places in Little Havana. We will find a gorgeous dress to wear with your new scarf. You will be beautiful for the wedding. And while we are shopping we will pick out things for our grandchild.”
The two mothers smiled at one another.
Someone with a megaphone announced, “Welcome to the Susan G. Koman breast cancer walk. Everyone please take your places so we can get started.”
Ileana’s aunt, a chunky black-haired woman, broke through the crowd. “I am here!” She kissed and hugged everyone. “You heard we have moved up the wedding?”
“
Si, gracias
,” Michael answered.
“
De nada
. It was Yelina’s idea.”
The walkers lined up. Michael and Ileana’s families wore T-shirts with a big pink ribbon emblazoned on them. So did many other people in the crowd. Many were breast cancer survivors like his mom was. Many were living one day at a time, grateful for every moment they had together.
Michael had taken a page from their book and was doing the same.
The starting gun sounded, and they were off!
Multi-published author Shay Lacy lives in northwest Ohio with her photographer/graphic designer husband. She loves following the man of her dreams with a camera in hand and a pen and notebook in her backpack. Sensible secretary by day, romance author by night, when not lost in her imagination or reading a good book, she is likely researching her next book with a SWAT team ride-along or a visit to a DNA lab.
For more information about Shay or to see the books she’s written, please visit her website at
www.shaylacy.com
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Once she looked into the lens, she embraced death.
Deputy Nicolette Rivers settled against the Remington’s cheek weld and peered through the Leupold scope. Five hundred yards away in a two-story farmhouse with chipped, white paint flaking off the wood siding, a domestic situation had turned volatile. For the first time in more than three years Nic was called on to use skills she’d hoped to never use again.
While the sheriff wanted to negotiate a peaceful end, he wasn’t stupid enough to keep Nic on the sidelines. He needed her eyes on the target: the out-of-control man standing over the cowering woman and her three children. Nic’s mouth drew into a thin line. She’d chosen this area for its lack of hostility and crime. Had chosen Nowheresville, Iowa, because there wasn’t a need for a former marine sniper.
Nic regretted putting her special skills on her résumé.“This is Rivers reporting in. I’m in position,” she said into her mic receiver.
“Go ahead,” Sheriff Hamilton replied.
The sheriff’s command post was on the opposite side of the house from her position. The abandoned truck made for a perfect spot. It was the right height from the bed to the roof, leaving her able to settle against the rusted frame and lean into her scope. And the huge, uncovered picture window at the back of the house gave her access to the hostage situation.
Nic rattled off the position of each person in the room, the layout as far as she could see, and what the subject was doing. All info the sheriff expected, knowing he’d use it as he negotiated. Inside the house, the man lifted a bottle of liquor to his lips and guzzled. His actions tugged up the bottom of the shirt and revealed more surprises. “Male subject … Dusty is drinking. He’s carrying a twenty-gauge and has a nine-millimeter tucked in his pants’ waistband. Do you copy?”
“Copy that, Rivers.”
Before the sheriff’s link fully closed, Nic heard a fellow deputy’s protests in the background. He’d been harassing Hamilton to be allowed to talk to the target—his cousin—and was denied. In fact, Deputy Doug Walker had been ordered to leave the premises before Nic hiked off to grab her rifle and get into position. Walker swore up and down his cousin would never in a million years hurt his wife and kids. Never.