Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (48 page)

“I love you, Mike. I always have.”

“God, I love you too.”

Carly grinned. “Good. Now get up slowly and march into that bedroom. I’m taking care of you.”

He groaned.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t do too much too fast.”

He cupped her chin in his hand. “I’m glad that someone is you. Tell me something: When did you realize passion and love were good things?”

“It’s silly, really. The night you left and we didn’t make love. It just took me a long time to understand what you’d taught me.”

He nibbled on her lower lip. “I’m glad it worked, because it was hell being with you, so close to losing you and walking away without...” He trailed off.

“I understand. When Peter said you were in the hospital and I didn’t know what was wrong... I thought I’d lost you without ever having had the chance to tell you that I love you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m like a bad penny.”

She brushed a kiss over his lips. “As long as you keep turning up, my life is complete.” Carly paused. “The question is, is yours? I don’t want to wake up one day to find you resent me, that you gave up your career because you thought it was what I wanted... the kind of life Peter would have given me.”

He shook his head. “Look at those pictures. You wouldn’t have been happy with Peter’s kind of staid life. As for me, I lost my parents, remember? Do you really think I’d want my kids to suffer the same fate?”

She blinked and tears rippled down her cheeks. “Kids,” she said softly.

“And a dog, and a white picket fence if you want one.” He brushed a lone tear aside with his thumb. “I’m through running, sweetheart.”

She held her arms open wide. “Unless it’s
toward
me.

“L
ife doesn’t come with any guarantees. You just put your best foot... I mean paw forward and hope for the best.” Mike knelt down and patted the head of the mutt he’d recently rescued from the ASPCA. He’d been covering a story for the local paper about animals that had survived a fire that had taken the lives of their owners.

Surprisingly, he enjoyed the lighter pieces as much as he enjoyed covering harder news. He appreciated the opportunity to do both. But he hadn’t expected to get earmarked as a sucker by the first pooch he laid eyes on. He’d been a goner from the minute he’d taken a look at those big brown eyes.

“So there’s the paper. Think you can remember that?” Mike asked.

The dog thumped its black tail enthusiastically against the wood floor.

“Good. Now let’s hope Carly likes surprises,” he said.

He’d left a message for her to meet him here with good news. Mutt, as he’d come to call him, had accompanied him on his daily run and his easier assignments. So here they were.

Despite the peace and quiet, or perhaps because of it, Mike knew he’d made the right decision. He glanced around at the rambling house that needed as much time and love as this pathetic new pet. He’d have time for both these days. The wandering and danger didn’t suit him anymore. The restlessness had begun long before he’d gotten injured on assignment. He just hadn’t known the longing was for permanent roots. Who’d have guessed?

Not Carly. She still seemed to be in a daze, as if happiness and security couldn’t possibly go hand in hand. As if she was looking for it all to fall apart at any moment.

Mike refilled the mutt’s water bowl and placed it on the floor. He understood the source of her fear. Time... and this surprise would prove that they shared something lasting.

The doorbell took him out of his musings and he was grateful for the interruption. The dog didn’t react, but then he still hadn’t learned to associate the doorbell with human company. Mike headed for the door but didn’t miss seeing the dog walk up to the paper and use the floor anyway. He groaned and turned the doorknob, wondering who would ultimately win this battle, him or the pooch.

“Hi.”

“Carly.”

She smiled, radiating a glow in her cheeks he hadn’t seen since... well, never. Talk about progress, he thought.

“Come in,” he said.

Carly followed him inside and down a short hall. She’d taken two steps inside the living room when Mike barked out the command. “Stop.” She did and looked down, grateful she hadn’t gone a step farther. Meeting his gaze, she burst out laughing and stepped around the mess, the paper, but not the dog. How could she, when he insisted on nuzzling her leg with his nose?

She knelt down to give him the attention he craved. “He’s cute,” she said, tilting her head upward. “And so are you.”

He frowned at her description. He’d shaved off the beard weeks ago, but he was still the rebel in attitude and look. He still favored worn jeans that hugged his lean hips and muscled thighs and a black T-shirt that accentuated his biceps.

He was still the man she loved beyond reason. The man she’d marry in a few weeks, in a private, family-only ceremony.

Tearing her gaze from him, she asked, “Okay, what’s up? What is this place?” she asked, gesturing around the rambling farmhouse.

He let out a deep breath. “This... is home.” He grabbed her hand and led her outside, down a small path to the edge of the property. He patted a peeling post. “And this is your white picket fence.”

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “And this is my dog?”

He grinned. “It’s the American dream, sweetheart. The house, the dog, the white picket fence... ”

“What about the two-point-five kids?” she asked, her eyes dancing with delight.

He leaned forward for a brief but satisfying kiss. “I was hoping one was on its way,” he said in a voice he barely recognized.

“If not, I’m sure we can work on it.”

Her light, tinkling laughter warmed him. To Mike, it was the sound of promise, of his future. He splayed his hand over her flat stomach. Her hand covered his and the dog nudged at her leg. She laughed again. He wanted to grow old listening to that sound, and he would.

“I like your thinking, and that might take care of one of those kids... but I had something else in mind.” She was teasing him and he knew it.

“And here I thought I had all the surprises for today.”

She waved papers in front of him. “I did some research, and there’s an adoption agency placing orphans from war-ravaged countries. Now I know it’s a big responsibility, and I know many of these kids come with problems, but we can handle it. I mean, if you want to.”

Did he want to? Give a home to kids who’d lost parents as he had? Only this time, these kids would know love and happiness... and security... Mike glanced back at the old house, and the woman with whom he would make this place a home. He didn’t know what he’d done in this life to get so lucky, but he intended to enjoy it.

He took Carly’s hand. “I said it from day one: You’re something else, sweetheart.”

Her eyes glistened with sheer happiness. “So tell me—what’s the dog’s name?”

Mike paused in thought. “How about Lucky?”

She leaned down to scratch the dog’s head. “It sure fits.”

Mike grunted and pulled her close. “What do we do with him while we’re on our honeymoon?” he murmured in her ear. “He’s not paper trained yet remember?”

Carly smiled.

Mike grinned.

“Peter,” they both choked out, laughing at the thought.

* * * * * * * * *

PROLOGUE

H
e killed his partner. He might as well have taken the gun and pulled the trigger himself. Only forty-eight hours had passed during which he’d doubted anything would help him forget. How ironic it was that the woman in his bed had done what a bottle of scotch could not. She’d been a blessing, something he didn’t deserve.

She tossed and turned in her sleep. He understood the source of her distress; it was his as well. Grief washed over her in waves, burrowing into her heart, reaching deep inside her soul. He knew and felt her pain as if it were his own. He should, considering he was the cause. Yet she’d reached out for him and he hadn’t been able to turn her away. Not when she’d looked to him for comfort, and not, damn him, when comfort had turned to desire.

He dressed in silence, not wanting to wake her, not wanting to face what he’d done. He’d slept with Nicole. Worse, he’d never felt so close so fast, never felt anything so right. He exhaled a harsh groan but she didn’t stir.

When he screwed up, he screwed up royally. He’d arrived on the scene too late to help, but in time to watch his partner die. He’d been too busy tending to his drunken father and Tony was dead because of it.

Then, when Tony’s sister had turned up on his doorstep seeking comfort, he had taken her to bed. If he were capable of real emotion, he’d think they had more than just sex. He knew better. Guilt weighed heavily because Tony was dead and he wasn’t. Because he’d let his partner down. Twice. Because Nikki, for all her bravado last night, was an innocent. He muttered a curse and allowed himself one last glance at the rumpled bed. Her black hair stood out in stark contrast against the white sheets and her soft skin beckoned to him. He wanted nothing more than to join her, to lose himself in her once more, because she’d brought him more peace than he’d ever known. More than he deserved. If he thought he could bring anything good to her life... He shook his head in disgust.

He knew what he was, who he was. Hadn’t the events of the past two days proven he wasn’t any good at caring for anyone but himself ? He tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder and did what he did best: He turned and walked out the door without looking back.

K
evin Manning let himself into the rambling house he’d inherited a month ago. No sound greeted him as he entered, just the echo of his shoes on the hardwood floor. The quiet enveloped him, welcoming him home and leaving him alone with his thoughts. Not a pleasant place to be lately. Maybe he ought to get a dog. At least someone would get some use out of the grassy backyard. And he could use the company.

He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and grabbed a cold bottle of beer from the fridge. The steady red flicker of the answering machine caught his eye and he hit the play button, listening as the digital voice announced one message. He tilted the bottle to his lips and let a hefty sip of brew slide down his throat as the first call played.

“Hey, sonny boy. My birthday and you couldn’t be bothered to lift the goddamned phone.” A gritty, drunken chuckle followed. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be on this planet so give the old man a call. Better yet, stop by. I’m dying of thirst.”

The smooth taste turned sour in his mouth and he headed for the kitchen to pour the nearly full bottle down the drain. The old man might claim all Mannings were alike and Kevin might have proven him right only two short months ago, but he’d be damned if he’d willingly take another step toward hell.

On the way home, he’d stopped by the seedy apartment where he’d grown up, drawn by the continuing sense of obligation he lived with on a daily basis. Peering through the window, he’d seen his father passed out on the couch, bottle of scotch in hand. Visiting would have been useless and Kevin had given up trying to reform him years ago. He’d only gotten backhanded for his trouble. Instead he kept tabs on the old man and made sure he had a roof over his head, not that his father appreciated the gesture.

A persistent ring brought him out of the past and he glanced at the phone. Whether the answering machine picked up the call or he did, Kevin would have to deal with his so-called father. Might as well get it over with.

An hour later, he walked toward the Yuppie bar, wishing he’d let the machine screen his calls. Even dealing with the old man would be preferable to this. He’d only been back in town for a couple of weeks, and he’d planned on dealing with his recent past, but on his own terms. When he was ready to face the casualties his actions had caused.

Kevin pulled open the door with the word STARS etched into the fogged glass. He had no business being in a place like this but he hadn’t chosen the location any more than he’d wanted the meeting. He entered the upscale establishment and grabbed a seat by the bar. A club with fancy theme drinks and wall-to-wall suits wasn’t the place he’d pick to spend his down time, but he had to admit that it beat the empty place he now called home.

He ordered a club soda from the bartender, kicked back, and took in his surroundings. From his cushioned stool, he had a perfect view of the front door and, thanks to the mirrored walls around him, a sweeping angle of the back twenty tables which had yet to be filled. A seductive-looking waitress with dark hair and a bottle of cleaning fluid made her way between the tables, pausing only to spray and wipe before moving on to the next target.

Kevin watched her, appreciating the soft sway of her hips as she moved to the beat of the music. She leaned over the glass tabletops, giving him an enticing view of a firm behind enclosed in tight denim and long legs covered by black cowboy boots. As she headed for the next table, she paused, glancing back toward the bar and its growing number of customers before swinging around once more. Kevin choked on a gulp of club soda.