Breaking Away (25 page)

“Would you like some apple slices until your hot dog is ready?” Sam asked.

“Uh-huh.”

Sam pulled the top from the container and shook some apple slices onto one of the plates. Joy settled onto the bench and nibbled at one. She pulled three little people out of her shorts pocket and lined them up next to her plate.

“Don’t feed Sarah, Dewey, and Fudi any of your food. They make a terrible mess,” Sam said.

Joy giggled.

“Looks as though you’ve done that a time or two,” Tim welded long tongs as he flipped the steaks. He had opened the hot dogs and put some on the grill.

“A few times. Joy and I have picnics out here pretty often.”

“There are drinks in the cooler.” Using the tongs, he pointed toward a small red cooler sitting next to the grill. “There’s a beer or two, but mostly soft drinks.”

“I brought water too.”

“Can I have a Coke, Mommy?” Joy asked.

Sam looked from Tim to Joy and back again. Darn it, she didn’t want to deprive Joy of the treat all the time, but she did try to limit the amount of sugar and caffeine she allowed her, especially later in the day.

Tim’s grin was rueful. “Next time I’ll know to check it out with you beforehand.”

“It’s okay.” She turned to Joy. “You can have a little.” She retrieved the soft drink from the cooler, found a plastic cup in the basket, poured a third of the can into it and set it next to Joy’s plate, setting the can at her own place and sliding one of the plates to the other side of the table.

“Do you have children?” she asked.

“No.” His look of surprise made her smile. “I’ve never been married. Why do you ask?”

“You just seem to know how it works.”

His expression evened out. “I have good friends who have kids. I’ve baby-sat for them several times. But I’m no expert.”

“You seem to do okay.”

“It’s easy when all the hard stuff is already done. You’re doing a good job with Joy. She’s a real sweetheart.” He slid the steaks onto a platter and turned the hot dogs.

Sam laughed. “Thank you. She says you call her sweet tart.”

Tim laughed. The sound was so masculine, she caught her breath. Will had stopped laughing about a year into the marriage. What had caused him to change so drastically? Had it been something inside him, or was it her?

“I’ll have to make a point to call her Sweet Tart from now on.” He looked toward the table. Using the tongs he grabbed one of the hot dogs. “Joy, is this black enough to suit you?” he asked holding it up for her to see.

Joy broke away from her pretend conversation with her little people to look up. “Yes.”

Tim smiled at her and dished up the hot dogs with the steaks. He turned his attention to Sam. “How’d the new job go this week?”

“It was okay. I’m doing secretarial work and answering the phone. It’ll pay the bills until I finish my college degree.”

“What kind of degree are you working toward?” He moved a foil-wrapped package off the grill onto a glass plate and set it on the cooler.

“Right now, I’m trying to get my general education requirements. Eventually I want to practice family law.”

His brows rose. “Couldn’t find anything any more challenging?”

Sam laughed at his dry tone. Her gaze strayed to Joy. “I had a really good lawyer. He helped me a lot. I’d like to pay it forward.”

“Any more trouble since the tire incident?” he asked.

Was it kindness or curiosity that pushed him to ask? “No. It’s been quiet.” But it wouldn’t last. It never did.

“Good.”

“How long were you in the military?” she asked.

The question reverberated through Flash’s brain. Shit! He’d hoped she hadn’t noticed his slip. “Seven years.” He checked the potatoes with a fork and, finding them tender, took them off the grill and put them with the steaks and dogs.

“What branch?” she asked.

“Navy.” What had he been thinking asking them to eat with him? But when Joy had come around the corner with her more than cute smile and asked if he was fixing hot dogs, he just couldn’t say no.

“It must have been good training for what you do now.”

“Yeah, it was. Chow’s on.” He could hear the short staccato answers he was giving her. He slipped past her with the meat platter and placed it in the center of the table. “It wasn’t so different from what I do now. I just get to sleep more.” Yeah, right. It had been constant training, sometimes dangerous stuff, and, when in combat, sometimes moments of pure terror, but he’d loved every minute of it. And he’d never been bored.

Sam smiled. “But you still work seven days a week.”

“New businesses require more work at the beginning. It’s hard to plan ahead for anything but the next job. But it pays the bills.”

“What would you do differently if you could?” she asked, opening the hot dog buns and pulling one out. She stabbed a dog with a fork and put it on the bun and placed it on Joy’s plate.

Never agree to do anything for the FBI. “
What makes you think I would do something different?” He sat down and used the tongs to put a steak on her plate.

“Nothing. I just wondered. Everybody has a dream.”

She sat down next to Joy, divided a potato between her and her daughter and started mashing up the half on Joy’s plate.

Sam’s blonde hair tumbled over her shoulder. Sunlight filtered through it, setting to light the corn silk like golden strands. She looked up right into his eyes. He grew hard. Why couldn’t she be ugly? Why couldn’t her eyes be less green? Why couldn’t her lips be less inviting? Why did she have to smell so good? He’d caught a hint of her perfume despite the grill smoke. Honeysuckle again.

“I forgot the butter and sour cream. I’ll be right back.” Flash slid off the wooden bench and jogged around the garage, dashing up the stairs like he was running for cover. He needed a moment to get his head on straight.

He couldn’t get involved with Sam. He was living a lie, and she deserved better. He was living a lie, and getting too close could be dangerous for her and her daughter. But he wanted her.
Bad.
And the way she was with her daughter, the loving, gentle nature she had, was something he’d never experienced, which just made him want her even more.

It was perverse human nature, wanting something he couldn’t have. He could control this.

He grabbed up the sour cream and the tub of margarine and returned to the impromptu picnic at a slower pace.

“Joy!” Sam’s voice was high-pitched with a note in it he’d never heard before. He broke into a jog.

Panic was written all over her features as she stood over her daughter. Joy’s face was mottled and red, her mouth wide open in a soundless scream. She clutched the neck of her pink and white shirt.

Flash dropped the containers. Sour cream splattered across the concrete and over his feet as the plastic tub hit bottom first and exploded. He broke into a run. His foot hit the butter bowl and it spun across the concrete like a Frisbee.

Flash jerked Joy to a standing position on the seat, supporting her with his arm, and with the heel of his hand, struck her between her shoulder blades. She felt so fragile, so tiny, if he hurt her—His heart hammered in his ears. He looped his arm around her and, bunching his fist, pushed up against her diaphragm, once, then twice.

A small disk-shaped piece of hot dog popped out of her mouth onto the table and she gasped in air, then started coughing.

“Jesus!” He sucked in a breath. He eased the child down on the seat and knelt to brush her pale blonde hair back from her face. The deep red color infusing her cheeks eased a bit, but she still gasped for air.

Sam sat down next to her, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. Tears streamed down her face. She shook as though electricity danced along her skin. She put her arms around Joy and rested her cheek against her hair.

“Mommy?”

Flash caught his breath. Hearing Joy speak was like manna from heaven.

Sam offered him a shaky smile despite the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I’m here, baby. You’re okay.”

“He squeezed me really hard.” Joy’s voice sounded a bit froggy.

“Yes, he did. He squeezed that piece of hot dog right out so you could breathe.”

Joy leaned forward to put her arms around Flash’s neck, and she clung to him. Not knowing what else to do, he rose and tucked a forearm under her bottom to hold her close. His hand shook as he rubbed her small back. Jesus, what if he’d really squeezed her too hard? “Maybe we should go to the ER and have her checked out.”

“That would be good.” Sam reached for a paper towel to wipe her face. She pressed close against him and buried her face against his chest. Her voice was hoarse and muffled. “Thank you, Thank God for you.” Her shoulders shook.

It was the most natural thing in the world for him to put his arm around her and hold her.

He felt the pressure of her body all the way down his side. A knot the size of a softball lodged in his throat. His voice husky, he murmured, “We’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Will glared through the binoculars as rage pulsed through his veins and shot heat into his face. He’d kill that son of a bitch for touching her, for touching them. And he’d kill her for letting him. She was
his wife. His
wife. And Joy was
his kid.
No, glorified security guard was going to come in and take what was his. The guy transferred Joy to Sam’s arms and started piling food on a platter and disappeared around the garage.

Sam wandered toward the house carrying Joy. The guy jogged around the garage, paused to do something to the grill, then ran toward the house. A few seconds later the car pulled out of the drive and away.

One minute they’d been getting ready to eat and the next they got up and left. Something must have happened.

Now that the guy had the garage wired with alarms, Will couldn’t approach the building without setting something off or being videoed. Damn shame. He’d discovered how to jimmy the downstairs garage door lock and had often sat up in the apartment in comfort and watched Sam and Joy. Sam had been a good little wife, keeping to herself, taking care of Joy and that fucking busybody Ellen. Now that the old bitch was dead, he’d planned to edge right back into Sam’s life.

And now this fucker had come along. But not for long. He’d burn him out if he had to.

CHAPTER 20