Hard Core Law. Angi Morgan
leaned his forehead against the wood and exhaled a long “whew” sound. The smell of whiskey was strong. He had definitely drunk a little more than she’d ever witnessed. Maybe a little more than he should have. But he’d also been enjoying the company of his friends. Something long overdue. Most of his free time was spent with the twins.
“We need a cardboard box or something. This stuff—” He brought the glass from his side to his chest. “It’ll bust through plastic.”
His head dropped to the door frame and he closed his eyes. This time he relinquished the broken glass to her and backed up with some guidance. She helped him to the table, set a cold bottle of water in front of him and went about cleaning the floor.
Technically, it wasn’t her job. She was officially off duty because Josh was home. But she couldn’t leave him with his head on the kitchen table and glass all over the place. The kids would get up at their normal time, even if it was a Saturday. And the maid service wouldn’t stop back around until Tuesday.
“The way you look right now, this mess might still be here after school Monday.”
She moved around the edge of the tiled kitchen avoiding as much of the mess as she could. He was right about one thing, glass was everywhere. She retrieved her sandals from the living room next to the couch. She’d kicked them off while watching the men in Josh’s company interact with one another.
The wives hadn’t meant to exclude her, but she wasn’t one of them. She was the hired help. The nanny. She detested that word and told those who needed to know that she was the child care provider. In between a few bits of conversation, she silently celebrated in the corner. Not just her birthday, but also the achievement of receiving her PhD.
I need to tell him.
She pulled her sandals from where they’d crept under the couch and slipped them on her feet.
“They weren’t very...approachable tonight, were they.” A statement. Josh didn’t seem to need an answer. One hand scrubbed at his face, while the other held a depleted water bottle. “Sorry ’bout this.”
“Hey, nothing to be sorry for. The cake was out of this world.”
“Vivian ordered it.”
“Yeah, I was sorry she couldn’t stay.” Josh’s receptionist had done her best to keep Tracey involved in the conversations. “Would you sit down before you fall down?”
“I’m not drunk. Just real tired. We’ve been working a lot, you know.”
“I do. I’ve been spending way too many nights here. The neighbors are going to start talking.”
“Let ’em.” He grinned and let his head drop to the back of the couch cushions. “They can whinny all they want. And moo. Or just howl at the moon. I might even join ’em.”
“I think you need a dog to howl.”
Josh’s closest neighbor was about three miles away. He did have several horses, three barn cats and let JimBob Watts run cattle on their adjoining field. No one was really going to know if she was there all night or not.
No one but them.
They’d become lax about it recently. Whatever case the Texas Rangers were working on had been keeping him at Company F Headquarters in Waco. The case would soon be over—at least their part in it. She’d gathered that info from one or two of those whiskey toasts.
Tracey looked around the room. Plastic cups, paper plates with icing, napkins, forks. How could ten people make such a mess? A couple of the women had tried to offer their help, but everyone had seemed to leave at the same time.
Of course, the man now asleep on the couch, might have mentioned it was late. And if she worked in his office, she might misinterpret that as an order to get out. Tracey sighed and picked up a trash bag. What did one more late night matter?
Not like she had any reason to rush back to her campus apartment. She dropped two plastic cups into the bag and continued making her way around the room. She might as well clean up a little. It was mostly throwaway stuff and it wasn’t fair to make the twins help their dad.
After all, it had been her birthday party.
Josh had his hands full just keeping up with the twins. The floor would be horrible by Tuesday if she didn’t pass a mop across it. So she cleaned the floors and stored the cake—not to mention put the whiskey bottle above the refrigerator. On the second pass through the living room, she took a throw from the storage ottoman and covered her boss.
It might be triple-digit weather outside, but Josh kept the downstairs like a freezer. She draped the light blanket across him and his hand latched on to hers.
* * *
JOSH SHOULD BE ashamed of himself for letting Tracey clean up while he faked sleep. Should be. He wasn’t drunk. Far from it. He was hyperaware of every one of Tracey’s movements.
“Tonight didn’t go exactly like I planned.”
“Oh shoot. I don’t know why you scared me, but I thought you were asleep. It was fun. A total surprise.” She placed her hand on top of his, patting it as if she was ready to be let loose. She also didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’d never intentionally hurt his feelings.
But Josh had to hold on. If he let her go, he might not ever get the courage again. “You’re lying. You were miserable. I should have invited your friends.”
“It was great. Really.” She patted his hand again. “I better head out.”
“No.” He stood, letting her hand go but trapping her shoulders under his grip. He lightened up. “I mean. Can you stay a couple of minutes? I didn’t give you your present.”
“But you threw the party and everything.”
Was it his hopeful imagination that her words were a little breathier when he touched her? Touching was a rare occurrence now that the twins walked themselves up to bed and didn’t need to be carried. Not his imagination. Her chest under the sleeveless summer shirt was rising and falling faster.
One wayward strand of dark red hair that she tried so hard to keep in place was curled in the middle of her forehead. Most of the time she shoved it back in with the rest, but he practically had her hands pinned at her sides. This time, he followed through on a simple pleasure. He took the curl between his fingers and gently tucked it away.
Josh allowed the side of his hand to caress the soft skin of Tracey’s cheek. His fingertips whispered across her lips and her eyes closed. It was time. Now. A conscious decision. No spur-of-the-moment accident.
He leaned down as he tilted her chin up. Their lips connected and his hands wrapped around her, smashing her body into his. They molded together and all the dormant parts of his soul ignited.
Four years since he’d really held a woman in his arms. The last lips he’d tasted had been a sweet goodbye. It had been a long time since he’d thought about passion.
Tracey’s eyes opened when he hesitated for a split second. He didn’t see fear or surprise—only passion waiting for him. He kissed her again, not allowing them time to think or reconsider.
Her lips tasted like the coconut-flavored lip balm she recently began using. But her mouth tasted of the butter-flavored icing from her birthday cake. Lips soft and rich. Her body was toned, yet pliant against him.
Yes, he analyzed it all. Every part of her. He wanted to remember just in case he never got another chance.
Intimacy hadn’t been his since... Since... He couldn’t allow himself to go in that direction. Tracey was in his arms. Tracey’s body was responding to his caresses.
Their lips parted. He wanted to race forward, but they needed a beginning first. He’d worked it all out a hundred times in his head. This was logical. Start with a kiss, let her know he wanted more.
“Okay, that was...surprising