Authors: Kate Aster
“As if you didn’t spoil me enough today.”
He swallowed her up in his huge arms. “That’s
not all the spoiling I have planned for you.” He traced a finger across her
chin and met his lips with hers.
***
The shades open, the morning sun glared through
the hotel window. Stark naked, Lacey rose quickly from the bed to draw the
shades shut, hoping not give the people in the office building across the
street too much of a show.
“Mmm,” Mick murmured, half awake, as she
slid back into bed with him.
“Shh. Go back to sleep,” she whispered,
gently kissing his lips as she nuzzled back onto his chest.
He mumbled something inaudible as she
stroked his hair. His jaw slacked a bit and he started to snore. She gently
adjusted him so that he could breathe more easily, and the quiet returned. Lying
silently beside him, she let her mind drift to the memories they made together the
evening before. Mick had indulged her every fantasy, starting with a horse-drawn
carriage ride down The Mall toward the Capitol Building where the grand
architecture of the Smithsonian Museums were lit up in the night. Cuddled
beneath a blanket with him, all of Lacey’s senses forever etched the experience
into her mind: the storybook clip-clopping of the horse as it trotted down the
busy street; the way the street lamps seemed to magnify each perfect snowflake
as it cascaded toward the ground; the feel of Mick’s warmth alongside her with
the scratchy wool blanket shielding them from the frosty air.
Room service was awaiting them when they
returned to the hotel, and they ate wrapped in the sumptuous bed linens, with
the lights off and the drapes open so they could watch the city being blanketed
with snow. As the city noises abated outside, they comfortably melded together
enjoying the sweet sound of each other’s slow, contented breathing as they
drifted off to sleep.
Now as she watched him, Lacey felt him
twitch every once in a while, and wondered what he was dreaming about. Was he
here, dreaming of yesterday’s carriage ride, or of making love with her? Or was
he on the battlefield, dreaming scenes she could never even imagine? She
stroked his arm that was outstretched on the bed and traced the outline of the
scar on his shoulder.
Worry furrowed her brow as she imagined
the things that this man had seen and done in his life. She wondered where his
career would take him next, and prayed silently he would be kept out of harm’s
way.
Not long from now, the Navy would move him
far away again. Far away from her. Far away from the safe, simple life they
were leading in Annapolis.
The last twenty-four hours had been
something of a fantasy for her, a magical moment in time that she hoped would
comfort her when he left.
And he would leave.
What if she were to follow?
Looking again at the scar and imagining
the mission he was on when he was injured, suddenly her flailing real estate
career didn’t seem nearly as important.
She would follow him anywhere, she
realized with a start. Give up her career, start fresh in a new town, maybe on
the other side of the country. Other women did it. Why couldn’t she?
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to imagine
what Vi would tell her right now. But the only thing she envision was Mick a
year from now. Two years. Ten. Forever. She wanted to be the one waiting home
for him every time he deployed. She wanted to watch his grey hairs come in and
that hard six-pack slowly dissolve into a softer, decidedly average belly after
he left the SEALs. Smiling at the thought, she tried to picture a few more
wrinkles defining his face, and knew that she wanted to see them slowly appear
over the years. If he wanted her to, that is.
If only he wanted her to.
They both jumped when they heard Lacey’s
cell phone ring. She cursed softly, running across the room to dig it out of
her purse before Mick completely awakened.
Too late. Mick’s eyes were wide open, and
a smile spread across his face as he looked at Lacey in the nude, frantically
fidgeting with her phone.
Lacey saw Maeve’s number on the caller ID.
“Maeve?”
“No, it’s Bess, Lacey. I’m so sorry to
call. I held off as long as I could.”
“It’s okay. Are you all right? Is the baby
all right?”
Bess’s voice was tight on the other end. “We’re
fine. But, well—your car was broken into.”
Swallowing a groan, Mick adjusted his position
in the soft sofa, feeling the ache in his lower back shoot ripples of pain up
his spine and across his ribs.
He couldn’t believe he was this sore from
just shoveling two driveways. It was almost embarrassing, and he’d be damned if
he’d ever admit to it.
Maeve’s had been a simple, short span from
the garage to the street. He had the mission completed well in time for Lacey
to race out the driveway to her Saturday meeting with a new client.
When he volunteered to do Mrs. B’s, he
really should have considered its size. The massive driveway seemed to stretch
from her three-car garage to Buffalo, New York.
Why not just offer to shovel Highway 50
while he was at it?
Still, it needed to be done. He certainly
wouldn’t have let her call a professional when he had two perfectly good arms
to shovel snow. And the exercise would do him good. While he worked out
regularly at the Academy gym, he missed the raw, genuine ache that came from hauling
a ninety-pound pack across a sandy desert.
Or shoveling a driveway.
Besides, he was getting paid with the best
hot cocoa he had tasted in his life, he thought contentedly, as Mrs. B brought him
a second steaming cup of liquid indulgence from the kitchen.
“Had she left her car unlocked?”
Edith continued their conversation.
“No, it was definitely locked. The window
was broken. All the doors were opened; the trunk was popped. But then, that’s
it. They didn’t take anything. Not even her GPS.”
Edith shuddered. “It can’t be a
coincidence. It is so similar to what happened to Maeve’s house. I hope the
police are taking that into consideration.”
“They are. And they said they’d send a
patrol car over regularly to keep an eye on the place. But they have no leads.”
“Any footprints in the snow?”
“It kept snowing after the break-in, so they’re
hard to make out. And any car tracks were plowed over.”
“Did Bess or Maeve hear anything?”
“Maeve’s room is on the other side of the
house, and Bess sleeps like a log. A bomb blast wouldn’t wake her since she
entered this last trimester.” Mick set down his mug. “One of the neighbors says
he heard glass breaking, but figured it was just someone throwing out their
glass recyclables.”
“I don’t like this at all. If this is the
same person that broke in before, then the girls are obviously a target.”
“Most likely Lacey is the target since it
was her car,” Mick pointed out, his gut clenching into a tight knot. “I’d feel
better if Lacey stayed with me until this thing got resolved.”
“They do have that alarm system now.”
“It’s useless to her after she steps out
the door. If she were on base with me, she’d be safer. No car gets past those
guards at the gate without a DoD sticker and military ID.”
“Mick, if you want Lacey to move in with
you, I don’t think this is the way to go about doing it.”
“I’m not asking her to move in with me.”
Edith raised her eyebrows.
Mick relented. “Well, I am—but just
temporarily ’til they catch this guy.”
“Which could be never. And what is Lacey
supposed to do when you get orders and leave Annapolis?”
Come with me!
a voice shouted in Mick’s head. But he kept the idea
to himself, knowing it was absurd.
Edith sighed. “If you are thinking of
moving forward with your relationship, you should do it because you love each other.
Not because Lacey is frightened or you are concerned for her safety. Good
intentions aside, it’s not a healthy way to start a life together.”
“I didn’t say we were starting a life
together. I just would feel better knowing she was safe.”
“And would you keep her safe when she’s in
her office? Or at the grocery store? You can’t protect her all day. So I wonder
if it’s just an excuse to have her closer to you.”
Mick shifted uncomfortably.
“Think about your intentions toward her
truthfully before you suggest her moving in with you. It would be unfair to
play upon her insecurities or fears to get her to uproot her life. Because if
you aren’t proposing to start a life together, she will be left high and dry
when you leave here for your next post.”
Mick stared down at the mug of hot
chocolate, suddenly finding it less appetizing.
Mrs. B was right. Mick hated that.
***
Lacey stomped the snow off of her new
boots at the door, punching the security code into the alarm. “Anyone home?”
“In here,” Bess’s voice called from the
kitchen.
When Lacey joined her, she couldn’t
suppress a laugh at the sight of a pile of stuffed animals heaped onto the
kitchen table. “What happened in here? It looks like Disneyworld exploded.”
“That’s about what happened. Jack came by
saying he had picked up a couple things for the baby when he was in Florida. I
had no idea how much.”
Lacey picked up a Daisy Duck and tossed
open a princess blanket, shaking her head at the pile. “That was so sweet of
him.”
“It was,” Bess said tentatively, “but it’s
just too much.”
“Jack loves kids. You know that. He just
got carried away. Let him have his fun.”
“I feel awkward accepting all of it.”
“Oh, get over it. Just accept gifts graciously,”
Lacey said in a Minnie Mouse voice, her hand shoved up the dress of a puppet.
Bess’s brow creased. “It’s not just that. It
was the way Maeve acted.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out. It
was like maybe she was jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Maybe of me, you know. Of the attention
or something. I’m not sure.”
“Well, they definitely had a fling. Maybe
all those times she said she didn’t want something more than friendship with
Jack she was lying. Where is she now?”
“Said she had to go to the store. She left
before Jack even did. I wish you had been here. It was weird.”
“Did Jack say anything?”
Bess snorted. “You know Jack. He’s not one
to pick up on anything. The man’s clueless. Should I mention something to Maeve
when she gets home?”
Lacey picked up a Tinkerbell that had
rolled off the pile of toys as she sat at the table. “No. Not unless she keeps
acting weird. You know how she likes keeping her feelings to herself.”
“Wish I could do that as well as she
does.”
“Me, too. She’s the master.”
Bess started piling all the toys back into
shopping bags. “So how did your client meeting go?”
Stretching her legs out in front of her, Lacey
rolled her eyes. “Well, I took them to five houses, and every one wasn’t
perfect enough. They’re very high maintenance.”
“Where are they moving from?”
“DC. Chevy Chase area.”
“Well, that explains the high maintenance
part. Those homes there are gorgeous.”
“Yeah. They got my name from Edith,
actually. He’s a doctor who just started working at the hospital.”
“Nice,” Bess said, scrunching her face as
she touched her belly.
“You okay?”
“Just something I ate. Maeve tried making
French toast for breakfast.”
“Ah, no wonder Mick didn’t linger when he
was done shoveling.”
“Yeah. She’s a hell of a designer, but not
the best cook.” Bess struggled out of her chair. “I think I’ll lie down until
the effect wears off.”
Lacey watched Bess head out of the
kitchen, and a sudden panic tore through her, knocking her nearly breathless
when she saw blood on Bess’s pants. “Oh, God.” She rose quickly to Bess’s side.
“Oh, God, Bess, honey, let’s get your coat. You’re bleeding. I’ll drive you to
the hospital.”
***
Maeve knew she couldn’t cook to save her
life. Today’s breakfast certainly confirmed that.
But as she stood in front of the butcher’s
department at the grocery store, she could at least take pride in knowing one
cut of meat from another. Grabbing the best-looking shoulder roast from the
pile, she felt gratified to take part in tonight’s dinner preparation in some
small measure.
Glancing down at the list Bess had given
her, she headed to the spices and frowned, remembering her odd reaction to those
damn toys this morning. She hoped no one had noticed. Well, certainly Jack
didn’t. A bulldozer could come careening through her dining room wall and he
wouldn’t notice.