Toss Up (The Toss Trilogy) (7 page)

She drifted into a dream and became aware of Jim, there beside her on the bed. His hand was behind her head and he was kissing her, like he had the night before, only now his tongue swept past her parted lips, tasting and stroking as her mouth surrendered to his possession. She gave herself up to the desire that raced through her, melting her bones, and vaporizing her clothing? She suddenly realized she was naked in his arms. As her hands swept over his hard chest she realized with a thrill that he was naked too. She felt his hot hand slide up her ribcage toward her breast as she moaned in ecstasy and need…

The knock on her bedroom door penetrated her brain and woke her. She felt flushed and achy and frustrated.

“Sally? Dinner.” It was Jim’s voice. Blast the man, it was his fault she was dreaming about sex, and then he didn’t even have the courtesy to let her finish. The fog in her brain lifted and she sat up like a shot. “I’m coming,” she said.
Not this time, Johnston. Not this time.

Good grief. What if Jim had sent Tyler to get her—her son would have barged
right in and found her moaning. Heat washed over her followed by cold. The idea of Tyler walking in thoroughly doused her arousal. Until she got her subconscious straightened out, she had better use the lock on her door. She checked the bathroom mirror to be sure her face wasn’t red, and headed for the kitchen.

Her son waited, beaming with pride, to seat her at the table. He i
nsisted on serving her dinner and even poured her milk. Nor was his pride misplaced. The spaghetti was excellent. As if to prove how well he’d done, Tyler ate twice his usual amount of everything—even salad. Sally was surprised her justifiable annoyance with Jim didn’t spoil the meal, but it was easy to set her anger aside, for Tyler’s benefit, while the three of them enjoyed talking and laughing together. Afterwards, Sally claimed clean-up duty and shooed the two males out to the living room. Tyler recruited Jim for help with math, then dragged out his new Mario game.

W
hen she finished the dishes, Sally moved to the couch and sat watching the two of them sprawled on the floor, dueling with one another via remote control. Warm contentment filled her and she smiled at the picture they made. In some ways Jim was as much of a kid as Tyler. He was a wonderful friend.

But g
ood friend or not, Jim had overstepped his bounds. Once Tyler was down for the night, she would have it out with him. As Tyler’s bedtime approached, Sally marshaled her arguments and re-gathered her indignation. Perhaps it
was
best if he stayed here for a few nights, but she intended to lay down some ground rules. He needed to realize she would not stand for him using Tyler to make an end run around her objections a second time. And he wouldn’t get around her by playing caveman this time, either. She almost hoped he would try kissing her again so she could set him straight on that score.

So busy was she with her thoughts, that it was a surprise when Tyler climbed into her lap to kiss her goodnight. She gave him a hug and watched him head down the hall. Then she turned to Jim, ready for a
fight—but caught only the back of his head as he followed Tyler down the hall.

“Goodnight,” he tossed over his shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

She was alone.

She stifled her annoyance. Tyler was expecting a
sleepover. She got a book from her bedside table and settled back on the couch. Jim had been right to head to the bedroom. When Tyler fell asleep, Jim would come back out and they would talk. Until then, she would read and relax.

Sally shook her head, scrunched her eyes, and looked at the clock. She’d fallen asleep waiting for Jim… for two hours. The coward really had gone to bed. No point in waiting longer. She got up and shuffled toward her bedroom, stifling a yawn. Dealing with the vet would have to wait until morning.

Jim had to admit that Tyler’s bed, though narrow compared to his own pillow-topped king, was a darn sight more comfortable than Sally’s couch. The pale light of the waxing moon shone in through the bedroom window touching shelves piled with books and miniature cars, scattered toys that hadn’t quite made it back into the closet and the sleeping bag in which Tyler sprawled. His tousled head rested near the head end of the bed Jim occupied, and his flashlight lay close at hand.

Jim smiled at the sleeping child. They hadn’t told scary stories, but Tyler had kept up a whispered monologue for nearly an hour before he finally wound down and fell asleep. Since then, Jim had been lying awake, listening to the
creaking of the house, the swish of wind in the trees, and now Sally. The door to Tyler’s room stood open, but she hadn’t come down the hall to check on her son. Jim suspected he was the reason.

He listened to the sounds of Sally getting ready for bed. She had turned off all the lights except those in her bedroom, and he could hear th
e shower running. He pictured her wet and warm, soapy and slick, and felt the urge to get out of bed, pull off his boxers and join her. He smiled at the thought, but gave his body orders to stand down. She’d waited in the living room a long time, and he wasn’t the least bit tired. But he had come in here with the firm intention of staying away from her until morning.

He kept seeing the look she’d given Smith. His body and his gut were in full agreement about what should be done. They wanted to settle the question. To simply walk
in there, take her and make her his own. And… after her capitulation last night… body, gut and brain all knew that he could.

Which is why he didn’t trust himself to be near her alone. His brain was outnumbered on this, but he resolved not to give in. He knew if he lost control and went to her, persuading her would be easy. She wouldn’t turn him away.

Don’t think about that. It only makes it worse.
He shifted restlessly on the bed and re-scrunched the pillow, wadding it between wrist and bicep as he lay on his side staring toward the unlit hallway.

If he took her, he would never be sure of her. And more than an
ything, he wanted to be sure of her. He wanted to know that she chose him not because she’d been too long without a man, not because he’d been there when she needed comfort and security, not because he was willing to die—or kill, he admitted—to protect her and Tyler, but because she knew him, because she trusted him, because she loved him.

Stupid, pathetic sap.
But it’s the best way. It’s the right way.

Jim was honest enough with himself to admit his first attraction to Sally had been identical to what he’d seen in Smith’s eyes this afternoon. Undiluted lust. And becoming her friend had been only a step toward her bed, at first. But as he’d gotten to know her, he’d learned she was so much more than just gorgeous. He’d fallen in love so
gradually, there’d been no opportunity to shy away from it. Completely clear about where his own heart was, and about where he wanted her heart to be, he wasn’t going to settle for less.

And Tyler—hell, he’d fallen in love with Tyler even faster than with Sally. The boy had been seven when they’d first met, smart, inquisitive, energetic, and yet fragile—the legacy of his father’s tragic death. Tyler wasn’t fragile anymore, and Jim liked to think that he’d had something to do with that. Even if nothing ever came of his love for Sally, Jim knew his relationship with Tyler was something he would always trea
sure.

The ribbon of light beneath Sally’s bedroom door winked out. Jim rolled onto his back and turned his head to stare out the window at the clear night sky. The moon was already past zenith and heading for the horizon. He had too many memories of too many nights spent watching the moon go down, waiting for the darkest darkness to fall so he and his team could begin their work. “Dark for dark business,” that’s how To
lkien’s dwarves had put it.

“Counterterrorism” was the official designation. But he and his team had created terror themselves, and had brought death. He had terrorized men and killed them—some even younger than himself.

Oh, he’d been one of the good guys, he knew that. And God knew someone had to fight the evil they had battled. But when his job was done and he’d come home, he’d set aside his former self. He’d put the soldier on the shelf, and become Jim Donovan, friendly, laid-back doctor of veterinary medicine.

Then the stalker bastard had targeted Sally, and the warrior had come roaring off his dusty ledge.

He was coming to terms with that. It had been naïve to think he could simply choose to be different and forever alter his character. It was all about integration—fancy word for a simple concept. Be who you are; be all that you are. He was integrating the warrior and the laid-back veterinarian into one whole, strong Jim Donovan. He could feel it happening, and knew it was good.

But would a woman as strong and willful as Sally love both parts of the new, whole man?

She’d better.
That man was full-out in love with her and had no intention of losing her. He compressed his lips and nodded in the darkness. She was going to have to catch up, quick. His willingness to wait around for her to come around had evaporated the night he kissed her.

He looked for the moon again, but it was nowhere in sight. “Dark for dark business.” Silently he rose and dressed and slipped out the door.

chapter
six

“Morning.”

With a quick intake of breath, Sally lifted her eyes from the box of cereal she’d set on the table. Jim. The man moved like a cat. How could she have known him three years without noticing that?

He leaned against the kitchen doorway, his torso bare and yesterday’s khakis hanging low on his hips. He had fresh clothes in hand. “Mind if I use your shower?”

She felt her eyes open wider to take in shoulders, arms, abs, and the spot where the rough V of hair on his chest widened again before diving into the low-slung slacks. Heat washed over her, muscles clenched, and she felt her thong shift. Dropping her eyes to the cereal bowls in her hand, she set them on the table, swallowed, and produced a neutral smile. “Go ahead. Clean towels are on the shelf in the bathroom.”

He nodded and turned, revealing a broad muscular back, and the shadow cast by hard triceps on the arm holding his clothes.

She swallowed again, wanting to cup the back of his arm in her hand.

Will you get a grip, Johnston?

Not that kind.

He opened the door to her bedroom and entered, not bothering to shut it behind him. The sound of the shower starting echoed through her brain.

Her perverse mind pictured him naked—a very male presence in her lavender and white bathroom. She saw him standing in her shower with hot water sheeting over the lean muscles, using her lilac-scented soap, rubbing it over his hair-roughened legs from ankle to thigh and then—

“Morning, Mom. Can I have peanut butter toast instead of cereal today?”

Heat shot into her face, but moms are quick. She turned toward the refrigerator. “Sure, Tyler. Peanut butter toast coming up.” Pulling a loaf of bread from the freezer, her mind’s eye saw Jim stepping out of the shower, dripping wet, smelling like a mix of sweet lilac and hot male. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth—she wanted to nuzzle her face into his neck and just breathe. She wanted to taste him, run her tongue along his collarbone and—

“Can I pour my own orange juice?”

“No, honey, the container’s too full. I’ll get it.” She poured them each a glass of juice, and drained hers in one long gulp. Her heart beat faster than it had any right to. Then she poured Tyler a glass of milk and gazed out the window in the direction of the shelter, mind lost in lust. With a squeak, the toast popped up, and she glanced down to be sure the har
dening of her nipples didn’t show through her shirt.

Pull a jar from the cupboard, get out a knife, and spread the peanut butter.

Cutting the slices into triangles, the way her son liked, she arranged the pieces on a small plate.

“That smells wonderful, can I have some too?” The deep voice was close to her ear, the heat of his body warmed her back, and—she inhaled deeply—his scent matched what she’d imagined.

Heat washed over her body once more and a sizzling tightness claimed her. “Sure. Coming right up.” Working in mom-automatic, she prepared two more pieces of toast, helped Tyler gather his backpack and
jacket, kissed him goodbye, and watched while he waited for the bus to pick him up. Most of her consciousness stayed focused in the kitchen where Jim ate toast and drank coffee. She wrapped her arms around herself, still keeping her eyes on Tyler. What was happening to her? Her head shook once; clearly, she was out of control.

Come on, Johnston
, behave! You can’t afford to scare off the only man around, not when there’s someone stalking you. You need Jim, and you know it, so cool it.

She watched the bus stop and saw Tyler climb on board. The bus pulled away, but still she stood there, battling this raging desire, not just desire for a man, but desire for Jim—go figure. She took her unruly em
otions and mentally shoved them into a box—stuffing them down, forcing on the lid, and padlocking the box shut. At last she dropped her arms to her sides, straightened her shoulders, and returned to the kitchen, clear-eyed.

Jim was rising from the table as she entered the room. He picked up his plate and Tyler’s along with the glasses from the table and put them all in the dishwasher. “It’s almost time for me to get to work, Sal.” He poured himself one last mug of coffee, and leaned against the counter looking at her.

Why did he suddenly look so good? Was it simply that she needed someone around for security? Sally visualized Diana in place of Jim.

No, not the same.
Try a man.

She visualized Daniel Smith leaning against the counter. He looked good—really good—but… No. Her brows drew together slightly, and her head tilted a bit as she questioned why. Daniel certainly had the physique required… but visualizing him didn’t produce the same feeling she got from looking at Jim. They both looked hot, with the muscle to discou
rage an intruder, but seeing Jim made her feel more than just safe… she felt rooted somehow… grounded. Maybe because he was such a good friend?

“Do I have peanut butter on my chin?” Ice blue eyes laughed at her.

“What? No. No, I was thinking of something else.” She looked past him, out the window. “I see a car in the lot. If I grab my coat will you drop me off at the shelter on your way?”

“Glad to.”

They rode over in silence. Maggie Douglas, always sensible, sat in her warm car waiting for Sally to arrive and open the door. Good. Maggie could wait a moment more. There were things that needed to be said. As the truck rolled to a stop, she turned to look in Jim’s eyes.

“I’m glad you’re staying with us. Thank you. Thanks for not letting my bad temper last night chase you away. I—Thanks.” She closed her mouth tightly, opened the door and slid off the seat. Without looking back, she swung the door shut behind her and hurried into the building.

Maggie Douglas slipped into the shelter right behind her, already chattering away cheerfully. Sally responded automatically.

Yes, it was cold out. No, she didn’t imagine the ‘poor puppies’ would want to stay out until it warmed up some. Yes, she’d love it if Maggie took care of feeding the ‘poor darlings.’ At last, as Maggie headed off toward the kennel wing, Sally sank into the chair facing her computer.

I love you.
She had nearly said, ‘I love you’ to Jim. Good grief! Where had that come from? She felt the shaky sweatiness she associated with nerves and reacted the way she had before shooting a free throw on the court—
take a few deep breaths and focus.
She shook her head to clear it. This stalker business was really throwing her off her game.
Focus
. She had a shelter to run.

Sally booted up the computer and got to work. In her email was a copy of the new schedule Diana had set up for the volunteers. Emba
rrassed, she emailed back suggesting that daytime precautions were probably overkill. She didn’t like asking people to rearrange their routines to babysit her, but Diana was adamant. With her best friend and Jim united against her, Sally knew she had no choice but to give in. Fortunately, none of the shelter volunteers asked her for specifics as to why the schedules had changed. They knew how hard Sally worked, so the vague explanation accompanying Diana’s email to the group—that her manager needed a bit more help—had gone down easy.

There was one extra benefit. With more volunteers around, she had some time to work on her Economics paper.

By mid-afternoon, when she watched Tyler race toward the shelter from the school bus, Sally had completed an outline based on preliminary research. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.
Good progress. I should celebrate.

Tyler burst through the door. “Look, Mom.” He waved a blue env
elope above his head. “Matthew is having a birthday party on Friday. A sleepover birthday party! I get to bring my sleeping bag to school, and a present, and my pajamas and Matthew says we’re going to eat pizza and watch movies and stay up all night!” Tyler beamed at his mother. “I can go, can’t I?”

“Yes, of course you can go. We’ll go into town tonight and get a pr
esent.”
And dinner out. Yes!
“Get your homework done before it’s time to close the shelter, and we’ll stop by the Dragon King to eat.”

That was all it took to send Tyler scurrying behind the counter to spread out his books and papers on the desk next to her own. As he bent to the task, Sally gave herself a mental thump on the forehead—Donovan. Well, he’d have to get used to going with the flow. She wasn’t going to deny Tyler what was clearly a big deal to him.

True to their arrangement, Tyler was finished with homework, packed and ready to roll before the big red RAM pulled into the parking lot. “Mom, Dr. Donovan’s here!”

“Go ahead out. I’ll be right there.” A few minutes later, she slid into the cab of the truck.

“Tyler tells me we’re going into town for presents and Chinese food,” Jim said as she buckled up.

“That’s right. His friend Matthew is having a birthday party Friday.”

“It’s a sleepover,” bubbled Tyler. “I get to take my sleeping bag to school and everything.”

“Sounds awesome. What kind of present will you bring for Ma
tthew?” As Tyler rattled on about the merits of his various choices, Jim slanted a look toward Sally over the boy’s head. The question in his eyes stopped her diaphragm in mid-breath. How could she have overlooked it? With Tyler at a sleepover, they would be at the house alone. The very thought sent her blood pressure skyrocketing. Maybe she should go stay with Diana and Logan for the evening…or maybe not.

“Okay.” She took control, stopping Tyler’s ramblings. “We’ll stop at the Dollar Emporium first, and if we don’t find anything there we’ll go to Sports Unlimited.”

“The Dollar Emporium?” Jim sounded surprised.

“Lots of fun, great variety, short life-span of both toys and clutter. Ideal.”

“And Sports Unlimited?”

“Fishing tackle—Matthew’s current obsession. But something the whole crew can play with immediately always trumps anything you have to wait to use.”

Jim grinned. “It’s good that you know these things, Sally.”

“All part of my job, Doc.” She winked and turned to Tyler as Jim pulled into a parking space at the brick storefront. “Let’s go, Squirt. And make it quick—I’m starving.”

Less than an hour later they stood in line at Dragon King, waiting for a table to open up. The restaurant was crowded, and Tyler fidgeted as they waited for the small square tables to empty. Sally hadn’t been joking about her hunger. Her stomach rumbled as she shut her eyes and inhaled the fresh, spicy scent of the food. Jim made small talk with Tyler, helping to distract him till they were shown to a table. Once that happened, Tyler didn’t even sit, but rocketed off to the buffet, filling his plate with sweet and sour pork, fried dumplings, and, at her command, a small portion of stir-fried vegetables. She and Jim ordered more balanced fare from the menu.

It felt good to be out, to feel relaxed and carefree. Since Tyler’s homework was finished, they lingered over the meal and let the fortune cookies sit on the plate while they talked. Tyler began to look tired.

An accommodating waitress boxed Sally’s left-overs. Jim carried the bag to the truck while Sally chivvied a cranky Tyler along. It seemed a short time later that Jim shifted the sleeping child to lean against him so she could grab the day’s mail. Looking back at the picture they made in the truck, patient man and sleeping boy, she reached into the box. The rough edge of paper torn from a spiral coil brushed between her thumb and forefinger.

At that touch, the night turned cold, and a chill ran up her spine. Her heart began to race. She clutched the mail in her sweating hand, refusing to look at it, and returned silently to the cab. Jim didn’t seem to notice. He ran the truck the rest of the way up the drive, and helped Tyler stumble out, walking the sleepy boy toward the porch.

Sally followed close behind, casting nervous glances into the darkness on either side. The porch, which had a movement sensor on the overhead light, remained dark.

“Bulb must be out,” muttered Jim, reaching toward Sally for the key, and unlocking the door.

She stopped in the living room, body and voice tense. “Jim, put him down and come back.” Her chest felt tight, too rigid to manage more than short, shallow breaths.

He nodded without turning.

But Sally found herself following them down the hallway, feeling rather like an awkward toy pulled by a fractious child. She stopped outside the door to Tyler’s room.

It took Jim only a moment to remove her son’s outer clothes and tuck him into the warm sleeping bag. “Night, Ty,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”

The only answer was an unintelligible murmur, as Tyler wriggled into a comfortable ball.

Jim closed the door to the room, and didn’t look surprised to see Sally waiting in the hallway. Moving forward he touched her shoulder, tur
ning her back toward the kitchen. “Where are your light bulbs?”

With one cold hand she pointed out the appropriate cupboard, while the other still clutched the mail. The palm touching the notepaper felt violated, yet to let it go would be worse—as if the hidden words would somehow gain strength if released.

“Come with me while I fix that light.”