“Jazz okay?” he asked as a smooth saxophone began playing.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Mitch, how long do you think we’ll have to keep hiding?” The terrified look in her eyes told him she was scared. Getting shot at tonight had, understandably, shaken her.
“Until we catch Manuel. He made it clear tonight that he’s not messing around. We need to get back on offense and find him before he finds us. I think maybe your bait idea was a good one, but we’re not using you. I could go back to thestrip club and just wait till they take me.”
“How do you know they won’t just shoot you on the spot?” She threw his own words back at him.
“I don’t. That’s the hell of it.”
“Well, we need to figure out something else then. Sacrificing yourself for nothing won’t do anyone any good. You need to be around to testify when he’s caught.”
“I suppose,” he muttered. “Look, there’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for a while now.”
She remained silent, waiting, while he mustered the courage to say what he should have said a long time ago.
“The months after Jimmy died—when I took off and abandoned Jenny and the boys? You were there for them. You had to handle all the shit by yourself, and I’m sorry. I should have been there to help. You had to deal with the fresh grief of a widow and two little boys who’d just lost their father.
“You were tougher than I was. I ran away and drank myself stupid while you were strong and brave and held it all together to help them get through it.” He heaved a sigh of relief. Apologizing out loud eased his guilt just a little. The one thing he didn’t say was that he admired her almost as much as he was ashamed of himself.
She shrugged. “You were grieving just as much as they were. Jimmy was your family, too. I can’t imagine how it must have been for you, dealing with it all alone. It must have been unbearable, and it’s understandable you also needed time. I just wish there had been someone to help you.”
“Don’t be so gracious. You ought to hate my guts. I’ve been nothing but an egotistical asshole to you.”
“Well, except for the last couple of days.” She winked, and he smiled. “Mitch, you did what you had to do to cope. Everyone handles trauma differently.” Her words were a balm to his aching soul. With a few simple, yet sincere words, she’d released him from some of the guilty burden hecarried constantly.
“I’m gonna head to bed.” She got up and swayed a little. He reached out to steady her. “You coming?”
“Are you inviting me to your bed?” He stood and put his arms around her waist. Maybe just one more time.
“Technically, it’s your bed, but yes. Sleep with me?” She looked up, and he leaned in to kiss her.
“I’m not sure how much sleep there will be,” he muttered against her lips.
He grasped her hips and pulled her flush against him. He was already hard, and she moaned. The kiss heated quickly, and soon they were both breathing heavily. He untucked her shirt and ran his hands up to her bra, which he unhooked expeditiously with one hand.
He bent, grabbed the back of her legs, and lifted her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he made haste to the bedroom, stopping only twice to push her up against the wall and feel her up.
After making it to his bedroom, he gently laid her down and then covered her with his body.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered.
“Hm, no, you feel good.” Her kisses were long and slow.
He took his time undressing her, stopping to caress and kiss everything he exposed. Once she was naked, he sat and stared in open admiration. Her beauty and the look of love in her eyes was just about his undoing. The look said she cared for him and had maybe even fallen for him.
Normally, that would have sent him running, but in that moment, he realized he cared for her as well. And was maybe even falling for her.
The last couple of times they’d had sex, it was hot and raw and quick, but this time he took his time. He was tender and intimate, slow and thorough.
Waking in a woman’s arms was a foreign feeling to Mitch. It had been a long time since he’d allowed a woman to spend the night, and even then, it was reluctantly.
He thought he’d feel claustrophobic, eager to leave, or have her leave, but instead, he felt like he was home. This sassy, gorgeous woman was making him imagine something long-lasting. Could he have actual feelings for her? He cared for her, and respected her. He also felt responsible for her. Beyond that he wasn’t sure.
He relished her warmth for a moment more, then could put off no longer what needed to be done. He disengaged himself and quietly showered, dressed, and headed to his office. He needed to figure out who Manuel had called for help. The fact that it was most likely someone out of the country made it all the more difficult.
CHAPTER THIRTY
An hour later, Mitch was lured to the kitchen by a heavenly smell. Maggie had showered, and her long, wet hair hung in a ponytail. She was dressed in denim capris and a blue hoodie, humming a country song and making eggs. Toast popped from a toaster he didn’t know he owned, and the coffeepot was steaming. Maybe he could get used to a woman in his kitchen after all.
