Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) (20 page)

After a few minutes of embarrassed silence he said, “Can I ask? What did Danny mean about the waiting room?”

“It’s kind of a long story but, short version, about a year ago, Sam got shot by a guy who’d killed two people and been stalking Amanda. Amanda, Danny and I spent a long time in the hospital waiting room while they put Sam back together. Amanda was like a balloon with the air let out. We wouldn’t let her drive home by herself.”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re all friends. That’s a hell of an experience to go through together.”

“Yeah, I’m not likely to forget it.”

“Was he was shot in the left shoulder?”

“How’d you know?”

“He rubs his left shoulder, moves it sometimes, like it bothers him. I wondered if he’d been injured.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen marriages break up when something like that happens to a cop. Amanda must be pretty strong to have her husband … ”

“They weren’t married when it happened. Got married not too long after.”

“Now I admire her even more.”

“Sam says if they could cut through the brush and find their way to the altar, anyone can.”

“Do you think he’s right?”

Luckily, they were at her parking lot and she didn’t have to respond. She started to get her key card out of her shoulder bag so he could open the gate but Tony pulled the extra one she had given him from the side pocket in the door. After he used it, he dropped it back into the door pocket. She knew she should ask him to return it to her but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

He parked and she opened the door. “Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it.”

“Wait. I’m walking you to the door. Don’t want you to collapse on the dock for Mr. Todd to find.”

At her front door, she fumbled with the key, eventually getting it in the lock. But she didn’t turn it; she was hyperventilating.

“Margo? What’s wrong?”

“It’s silly but I have this feeling there’s something bad on the other side of the door.”

He removed her hand from the key and unlocked the door. “Want some company for a while?”

“Would you mind?” He shook his head and she was relieved he understood.

Once into the house, she dropped her purse on a chair and stared at her living room as if seeing it for the first time.

“How about I take a look around,” he said and started down the hall toward the guest room.

“Thanks. I know it’s weird but … ” She went into the kitchen. “Want a cup of coffee or something? I’m going to make myself some cocoa. Maybe something warm will help.” From the refrigerator she brought out a carton of milk.

“Hot chocolate sounds good.” He was at the foot of the steps, about to go upstairs, when he saw her on tiptoe reaching for the cocoa. “I’ll get that for you.”

She brought down the container. “No thanks, I’ve got it.” Her hand began to shake. She grasped it with her other hand, which only made it worse because it, too, was shaking. The lid popped off and cocoa powder scattered over the counter.

Tony closed the distance between them in a few steps and took the can from her. One look at her face and he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay. It’s over.”

She began to sniffle. “I’m going to cry, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are.”

When she’d finished pouring a significant amount of the fluid in her body out through her eyes and onto his shirt, she fumbled for a paper towel. He got there first, pulled one off, gently wiped her face and held it so she could blow her nose.

“You must think I’m some kind of wuss.” She could feel her eyes puffing up and her nose beginning to run again.

“I think you’re a smart and resourceful woman who’s had a really bad day at work. You’re doing great.”

Still sniffing, she reached for another paper towel. “This is embarrassing. Cops don’t cry.”

“Sometimes they do. And the ones who don’t can do really stupid things instead.”

“Oh, God, I’ve made a mess of your shirt.” She pointed to the wet spots streaked with mascara and make-up now decorating his chest.

He glanced down and shrugged his shoulders. “This one was headed for the laundry anyway.” Taking the towel from her hand, he dabbed at her eyes. “How ’bout I make the hot chocolate. Go upstairs and get into bed. I’ll bring it up when it’s ready.”

When did it get to be so bright? Were all the lights in the marina on? Margo sat up, looked out at the river and realized the light wasn’t courtesy of the power company. It was morning. She barely remembered coming up the stairs, let alone falling into bed. But she obviously had.

From downstairs, she heard the sounds of Charlie Byrd’s guitar jazz and a man talking. Then she smelled coffee. What the hell? She was groggy but she was awake. Who was down there? Maybe someone broke in. Another Russian had found her. But what kind of intruder would make coffee and play music?

She’d better go find out what was going on. Throwing her legs out from under the sheet, she banged into her bedside table. There was a cup of something on the nightstand. It looked like chocolate milk. Right, she’d been making cocoa when she got home. Before she could connect the dots, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Why had she put on a man’s pajama top with her bikini panties?

She’d sort that out later. Now, she needed her cell phone and something she could use as a weapon, just in case. Looking around her room, she couldn’t see her phone. And there were few weapons options. The only choices seemed to be an original Amanda St. Claire glass art piece or a ten-pound hand weight. The art glass was heavier and more dangerous to use as a weapon but it was also much more valuable. The hand weight, it was.

Four steps down the staircase, and the dots began to connect.
Tony
. He’d been with her last night. Had volunteered to make cocoa. And that was his voice. He was on the phone, telling someone she was asleep, but would be at Central Precinct that afternoon.

Just as he was about to finish the conversation, he looked up the steps. “Sleeping Beauty has awakened. Want to talk to her?” He handed his cell phone to her. “It’s Jeff.”

“Morning, Jeff. Sorry I’m not … ”

“You don’t have to explain anything. Both Tony and Sam called and told me everything. And Sam said — I’m quoting here — you were great yesterday. High praise from him.”

“I must still be dreaming if he was that complimentary. I heard Tony tell you I have another meeting over there this afternoon. I’ll come see you after that.”

“The only reason to drop in today is so I can congratulate you. That and maybe you can help get the reporters who’ve been hanging around cleared out.”

“Reporters.
Damn
. I better call Fiona. I promised her first shot at what I knew because she put off running her big story.”

“Take care of Fiona and get squared away with Sam. And get some rest. Tony says you were pretty beat after your adventures.”

She ended the conversation and handed the phone back to Tony.

“What were you planning to do with that?” he asked, indicating the hand weight, a slight smile on his face. “It wasn’t meant for me, was it?”

She put the weight on the counter and ignored his question. “Were you here all night?”

“No, Margo, I went to the hotel and changed into another shirt that looks like this,” he said indicating the make-up-smeared — and now wrinkled — shirt he was wearing. Apparently the look on her face forced a change of direction in the conversation. “Not ready for humor yet, I see. Yes, I stayed. When I brought you the hot chocolate, you’d fallen asleep but you were restless. I rubbed your back for a while and you settled down. When I started to move away from you, you didn’t seem to want me to go.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“Next to you. But I was a gentleman. Your wardrobe made that easier than I might have expected.” He fussed with the coffee pot. “Want some coffee? I just made it.”

“I guess I should thank you.” She could feel tears beginning again and swallowed, hardening the tone of her voice to keep from showing her emotion.

“You wanted someone here. I stayed.” He brought two mugs down from the shelf and poured coffee into them. “Sorry it’s black. I used the last of the milk to make your hot chocolate.” He handed one to her.

She put it down on the counter. “I don’t understand why you stayed. I didn’t ask you to.”

“Jesus, is cross-examination of my motives what you call a truce? I thought after yesterday maybe … ” He banged the mug he was holding down on the counter. “I obviously misunderstood. I apologize. I’ll leave and get out of your way.” He wiped off the coffee that had splashed out of the mug onto his fingers, grabbed his jacket from the back of a dining room chair and strode toward the door.

Before he could get there, she put out her hand. “Tony, please. I didn’t mean to sound like I didn’t want you here … don’t want you here. I just can’t figure out why you stayed when I’ve been so … so inhospitable.”

He stopped. Without turning around, he said, “Why do you have to take everything apart and try to reassemble it so it fits your idea of how it should be?”

Her hand slowly sagged to her side and she sniffled as if she was about to cry again.

He must have heard because he faced her and said in a gentler tone, “I stayed because I thought it would make you feel better. Why’s that suspicious?”

“It’s not. But I don’t deserve it. I’ve been scared and stupid and stubborn … ”

His mouth skewed into a wry expression. “Yeah, you have been.”

“I seem to say everything wrong when I try to talk to you. Please. Don’t go. Give me another chance to say it right.”

He came across the room and stood in front of her. “That’s not a bad start. Go on.”

“Yesterday, all I wanted was to hold on to you when you got me out of that damned car. But I couldn’t.”

“Well, you were duct-taped.” The smile was now approaching normal.

“That’s not it. I didn’t think you’d want me to. I was afraid you’d push me away.” She stopped and looked up at him. “I thought maybe you’d given up on me, on us. I never answered the question you asked before you left; I couldn’t figure out how to talk to you when you got back. I thought I’d lost my chance to make it right.”

“Do you want to make it right?” He circled her waist with his arms and she sighed as she sank into his embrace.

“God, yes. More than anything.” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “If it’s not too late, I’d like to answer the question you asked. Yes, I want us to be together. I can’t imagine my life anymore without you. It’s just that … just that … ” She shook her head as if the words were stuck and she was trying to get them loose enough to come out.

“Just that what, Margo?” He smoothed the worry lines in her forehead.

“It’s just that, I need to know you forgive me. I need you to say you aren’t mad at me. I need … ”

“You need to stop talking so I can kiss you.”

“Oh, yes, you need to kiss me.” She bracketed his face with her hands, the smile on his face reached his candy-bar eyes and she let herself get lost in them.

His lips were soft and tasted wonderful, like the sweetest dessert, the best wine she’d ever had. She dropped her head back and he released her enough to kiss the pulse in her throat before kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose and each cheek. He ran his thumbs along her cheekbones, and then he kissed her again, slanting the angle of his mouth to capture hers completely, his intensity making her breathless. When he released her, she clung to him as if the house had slipped its moorings and he was the only stability.

“Sugar, there is one thing about last night. I wasn’t kidding when I said what you have on made it easier to behave myself. That pajama top … ”

She glanced at her arm and laughed. “It’s another long story.”

“I have a lot of time for this one, Margo.”

Trying hard to suppress a laugh, she said, “Actually, I’m not sure why I’m wearing it. I don’t remember putting it on. I guess I just grabbed the first thing I could find.”

“Is this left over from some guy you were … ?”

“The only other person who’s worn this is Sam.”

“Sam Richardson? You slept … ?”

“No, Tony, of course I didn’t. He wore it when he was in the hospital after he was shot. It came from this guy I was seeing for a while. It was a pretty casual relationship; at least, that’s what I thought. Until, out of the blue on Valentine’s Day, he gave me a beautifully wrapped box in which I found a fluffy nightgown, which he said he’d keep at his house, and these pajamas, which he said I was to keep at mine. Then, he said, when we decided it was time to sleep together, we’d be prepared, no matter whose house we were at. We didn’t see each other much after that.”

Margo was sure everyone in the marina heard Tony roar with laughter. When he could finally talk, he said, “Jesus, Margo, how come you aren’t still with him organizing each other’s lives out into the next millennium?”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Alessandro. I’m not like that.” When he didn’t respond right away, she asked, “Am I?”

“No, you’re not
that
bad. But promise me you won’t wear that again when I’m sleeping with you. In fact, maybe we should go upstairs and get you out of it. Don’t you need to go back to bed for a while?”

“I’m fine. I’m not sleepy … ”

“Neither am I.”

When they got to her room, he opened the drawer of the bedside table and smiled. “So, you expected me back,” he said as he pulled out a foil packet and handed it to her.

“Not expected, hoped.” She started to unbutton the pajama top she was wearing.

He stopped her. “Let me.” He unbuttoned the top and slipped it down her arms, kissing her shoulders gently as the fabric slid off her body. Then he got on his knees and took off her bikinis, kissing up her thighs to the dark cluster of curls at the top. He kissed her there, tonguing the nub of her clitoris, sucking gently on it. The combination of his tongue, his teeth and his mouth on her made her legs go weak. But before she could climax, he laid her down on the bed.

She was restless with wanting him, her every cell crying out for the touch of him. It was like the first night they’d made love, when she’d watched him undress only now she knew what making love with him was like and she wanted it even more.