(Dream Man 03) Law Man (27 page)

Oh boy. I liked that.

I went to Mitch’s room, changed into jeans and a tee, making a mental note to ask Mitch when I could get back to my apartment for clean up (and moving back in) but also so I could get more stuff. Then I slipped on some flip-flops and went to go find them.

As I walked down the back steps to the greenspace behind our unit, I saw LaTanya and Brent sitting at a picnic table with a woman I didn’t know. They were watching Mitch, Derek and Billy playing catch with another extremely hot guy and two mini-hot guys (also who I didn’t know) at the same time watching Billie race around chasing what looked like nothing but I was assuming in her imagination was something.

I got greetings, Billie’s was how she greeted Mitch which was to say a body collision followed by a hip hug then she went back to chasing imaginary butterflies (or whatever). Mitch’s was distant (as in physically since he didn’t quit playing catch) but not distant emotionally because his eyes warmed, his face got soft and his beautiful mouth smiled when he saw me. I also got introductions and a handshake from the woman I didn’t know who was Tess O’Hara (of Tessa’s Bakery!). She was the woman of Brock Lucas (the extremely hot guy) who was Mitch’s partner (oh my God! his partner! cop partners were like family!) who gave me a chin lift and the two boys were Joel and Rex, Brock’s sons (oh my God
again!
) and we were going out to dinner with them (oh my God, God,
God
) after catch.

After I managed the herculean task of not hyperventilating and/or fainting, I joined Tess, LaTanya and Brent on the picnic table and watched Mitch, Derek, Brock, Joel, Rex and Billy playing catch.

And that was when I started fretting.

Not because of my crazy life living in a dream world. Not because I’d found out that day my new charges’ insurance was going to suck a huge amount out of my paycheck every two weeks. Not because my day was ending with Mitch playing catch with Billy and us going out to (another) family dinner, this being extended
cop
family including his partner and
his
family. Not because I hadn’t heard from Mom and Aunt Lulamae in a while and I knew this meant they’d retreated in order to plot and that did not bode good things.

No, I was fretting because Billy was not really good with a baseball mitt or throwing a ball. This was likely because he’d never tossed a ball with his father. But that wasn’t it either. It was the fact that it was clear he
wanted
to be good not because he actually wanted to be good but because, I was guessing from his behavior which was openly anxious, he didn’t want to annoy or disappoint Mitch.

And he seemed not to cotton onto the fact that Mitch, nor Brock nor Derek for that matter, were anywhere near annoyed or disappointed. All the men were patient and encouraging, not in an overbearing way, in a natural, calm way that was not penetrating Billy at all. The more they tossed the ball, the more anxious Billy became whenever he missed a catch or threw wild, which was nearly every time.

“This isn’t good,” I muttered as I watched Billy miss another catch that Mitch tossed what would have been straight into his mitt if he hadn’t screwed up his concentration, tried too hard and moved his mitt at the last minute.

“He’ll relax, babe,” LaTanya muttered back. “Remember this is as new to him as it is to you and Mitch.”

“He’s freaking out,” I whispered.

“Totally,” Brent whispered back and I looked at him to see he was concentrating on Billy too. “He’s
all
wound up.”

“It’s because he thinks Mitch, Brock and Derek are cool but that’s only because Mitch, Brock and Derek
are
cool and he doesn’t want to be not cool,” Tess explained then she bumped me softly with her shoulder and whispered, “He’ll calm down, Mara. It’ll be okay.

“That’s not it,” I told her.

“That’s totally it,” LaTanya butted in.

I shook my head, thinking about the last day or two and replied, “He’s like a kid robot. It’s not just playing catch. I think he’s wound up all the time.”

“That’s weird,” Brent observed. “You’d think he’d relax, being away from his Dad and someplace safe.”

I silently agreed as I watched Billy throw the ball to Derek, it went way high, Derek leaped and just tagged it before it flew over the tip of his mitt. Billy watched Derek land and his face screwed up so tight, it was hard to watch.

Too hard.

And that was when I was done.

I prepared to make a move to go to him but then I heard Mitch call, “A minute, guys.”

He had his gloved hand pointed to Derek, palm down. Derek tossed the ball to Mitch and Mitch caught it in his glove like it was second nature as he walked toward Billy. When he got to Billy, he crouched low.

Billy took a step back. Mitch’s hand lifted, curled around Billy’s shoulder and he carefully guided the little boy between his opened, bent legs. Mitch spoke to him and Billy’s head tipped down, staring at the grass, concentrating. Then Billy bit his lips. Then Billy’s head jerked and his eyes caught Mitch’s.

I held my breath.

Mitch grinned at Billy. Billy grinned back. Mitch’s hand still at Billy’s shoulder gave him a gentle-rough shake then he straightened and walked away.

Billy licked his lips and took two steps back. Mitch turned and tossed the ball to him and Billy stood still, watched it fall into his glove and he curled the glove around it.

The minute it did, I jumped up, threw my arms straight in the air and shouted, “Whoop! Whoop! Go Billy!”

Billy’s eyes shot to me, shock in them as Brent, Tess and LaTanya jumped up next to me and shouted too. His face cracked into a hesitant smile and his eyes cut to Mitch.

“Right here, Winchell,” Mitch called, slapping the inside of his mitt. “Focus, Bud, keep your eyes on my mitt, don’t think about anything and let go.”

Billy nodded, wound up and let go. The ball flew high and to Mitch’s right but not nearly as far as it had been. Mitch caught it easily and Billy’s face lit into a huge smile as Mitch threw a smile back at him.

“Awesome!” Derek yelled.

“Go Billy! Go Billy! Go Billy!” Brent started chanting, LaTanya, Tess and I joined and Billie ran up to us, adding her voice to the cheer as she wrapped her arms around my hips. A blush crawled up Billy’s face and he bit his lip again but he did it through a smile.

Mitch tossed to Derek and Derek tossed to Brock and Brock tossed to Billy quickly, not giving Billy a chance to think about it and Billy caught it again. We cheered again. Billy’s blush got redder and he immediately threw the ball at Mitch again and it nearly landed right in his mitt. Mitch only had to adjust a few inches.

Another cheer from the peanut gallery, louder and crazier this time.

Derek started laughing. Brock threw a grin at his woman (which, seriously, was hot). Mitch smiled at the turf, shaking his head before he lifted it again and fired a shot at Derek, Derek caught it and instantly fired the ball at Billy who had to reach for it but he caught it again. Another crazy, loud, wild cheer.

And so it went, Mitch, Brock, Derek and even (very patient, I might add) Joel and Rex didn’t give Billy the chance to screw up by concentrating too hard or thinking about his nervousness. They even switched it up, with Mitch catching Billy’s pass and then passing straight back to Billy and Billy fell into that game too.

The peanut gallery settled in at the picnic table as the boys settled into their game of catch. Billy missed some but they were few and far between and his tosses weren’t dead on accurate but they were much better and finally he even gained enough confidence to put some oomph behind them.

Billie climbed up on the top of the picnic table, got on her knees behind me, pulled my hair out of its ponytail and started to play with it as Brent, LaTanya, Tess and I started talking about everything under the sun. Through this I watched Billy relax and start to enjoy himself and the guys started to chat about whatever guys chatted about when they played catch.

Eventually my eyes strayed to Mitch and then they strayed over Mitch’s perfect body moving athletically as he chatted to our friend, his partner, his partner’s boys and my beloved cousin.

And I was lulled deeper into my insane dream world that shouldn’t be mine but I couldn’t let it go.

And I couldn’t let it go because the sun was shining. It was May in Colorado. It was warm. I was with a bunch of people I loved, new people that were cool and although everything was very, very wrong in Mara World, in this world, in that gleaming, perfect moment, everything was very, very
right.

* * * * *

Therefore, after catch we went out with Tess, Brock and Brock’s boys.

We had a great dinner that was pandemonium (mostly because of Billie who clearly couldn’t decide if she had a bigger crush on Joel or Rex so she lavished attention on both of them in addition to Mitch, who was definitely now her third most favorite person in the world behind Billy and me and she wanted him to know it) and the entire time we were out I didn’t feel like I was in an insane dream world that wasn’t mine.

I didn’t feel that at all.

Not even when dinner was over and Mitch scooted his chair close, wrapped his arm around the back of mine and idly played with a lock of my hair while he talked to Brock.

Not even then.

I felt like this was real, it was mine and I liked it.

It felt freaking
great
.

So I stayed there.

* * * * *

The next morning started like the last and, except for Mitch letting me into my apartment to get my stuff to dress for our date, was mostly the same.

But it wasn’t going to end the same.

And it wasn’t until I was dressed, made up, ready for our date and staring at myself in Mitch’s mirror that I realized my mistake.

And this was when the silken cocoon that was crafted snug, safe and warm around me made from Mitch’s warmth and kindness completely shredded.

And when it did, the harsh, bright light of Mara World glared in, reminding me who I was, who he was and how this was all likely to end.

I blinked at myself in the mirror as I heard Mitch come through the front door.

And it was then I knew, for the kids’ sakes, my sake, Mitch’s sake and mostly the sake of all of our hearts, I had to yank all of us back into the glaring light of Mara World before it was too late.

Chapter Twenty

Before It’s Too Late

“Mara, sweetheart, you ready?” Mitch called from his living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining area.

It was on unsteady legs in silver, strappy, stiletto-heeled sandals that I walked out finally determined to explain to Mitch about Mara World and his place in it.

In other words, he didn’t
have
a place.

My dedication to this task took an instant and direct hit when I cleared the mouth of the hall and saw Mitch standing at the edge of his bar wearing an espresso-colored tailored shirt that looked hot on him, a matching espresso-colored sports jacket over it that also looked hot on him, a fabulous, dark brown belt and somewhat faded jeans that definitely looked hot on him. His head was tipped back and he was taking a slug from a bottle of beer while I lamented the fact that I was in his bathroom getting ready while he was in his bedroom changing clothes. Therefore, I’d missed seeing his gorgeousness (and thus would have been prepared to see his returned gorgeousness) before he’d left to take the kids to his sister’s.

Instead, I was thunderstruck by just how beautiful he was from top-to-toe.

His eyes slid around the beer, his chin tipped down and I absorbed my second direct hit right after my first when his beer hand dropped and his dark brown eyes went from warm to scorching in a nanosecond.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

I stopped four feet away, pulled myself together and announced, “Mitch, we have to talk.”

It was like I didn’t even speak. He set the beer aside as his burning gaze traveled me top-to-toe and back again, slowing on occasion but roaming me randomly, lazily and it made me feel a kind of funny I’d never felt before. A beautiful kind of funny. A kind of funny I’d not even felt when I was in his arms so, obviously, it was a seriously beautiful kind of funny.

“Jesus,” he murmured again.

“Mitch, did you hear me?” I asked, powering past that beautiful funny feeling.

His eyes finally moved to mine.

“Come here, baby,” he ordered in his gentle voice but this one had an additional rumble that felt like a physical thing. A warm, sweet, infinitely sexy physical thing.

Another direct hit.

“Mitch, I asked if you heard me.”

“Come here,” he repeated.

“We need to talk,” I said quietly.

“You need to talk, we’ll talk at dinner,” he returned. “Right now
I
need you to come here.”

“Mitch –” I started and he moved.

He lunged, reached out a hand, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. He lunged back and I went flying forward, colliding with his body and his arms clamped around me.

“Fuck,” he muttered and I tipped my head back to look at him as I caught my breath at suddenly finding myself in his arms which was definitely not, in any way, where I wanted to be when I said what I needed to say. “I knew your hair looked good down but, Christ, not that good.”

Wow. That was super nice.

No, no. I needed focus. Fo… cus!

“Mitch, I need you to pay attention to me,” I told him.

His hand slid up into my hair as his eyes roamed my head and he murmured, “Oh, I’m payin’ attention, sweetheart.”

“Mitch!” I snapped, my hands, which had landed on his chest, curled into the lapels of his jacket and his eyes cut to mine.

“Don’t,” he said suddenly and I blinked.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Mara, I see you’re screwing yourself up to say somethin’ that’s likely gonna piss me off and ruin my plans for tonight so, I’m askin’ you, don’t.”

I blinked again. Then I informed him, “We need to talk.”

“Do you think we need to talk about how nice it felt, lyin’ together watchin’ baseball?” he asked.

I stared up at him and felt my brows draw together. “I didn’t watch baseball.”

“Okay, do you think we need to talk about how nice it felt, lyin’ together, me watchin’ baseball and you zoned out?”

I sucked in an annoyed breath because he was ruining my plans by talking at all
and
his talking meant he was reminding me how good that did, indeed, feel and I snapped, “No.”

“All right, then do you think we need to talk about how great every kiss was that we’ve shared from the first to the last?”

My body grew tight and I bit out, “Absolutely not.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to know how good I think you taste?” he asked.

Oh boy. Mitch saying that felt like a warm, sweet, infinitely sexy physical thing too.

Crap.

“No,” I repeated.

“And how fuckin’ great you feel when you press into me and hold on tight.”

He was totally ruining my plans!

“No!” My voice was getting louder.

“And you don’t want to tell me how much you like it, just as much as me.”

“Mitch –”

“Best kiss I ever had,” he went on. “Every single one.”

God,
God.

That was nice.

I closed my eyes, opened them and whispered, “Stop it.”

He didn’t stop it. “Best kisses you’ve ever had too. You told me, baby. That first one you told me straight out and I know the rest felt the same.” His head bent nearer to mine and his voice got lower when he said softly, “Especially when I had you on your back in my couch.”

He’d done a lot of things with his mouth when I was on my back in his couch and he was right, all of it was the best I ever had. All of it.

“Please, I need to say something,” I begged softly.

His arms gave me a squeeze, his fingers twisted in my hair, his face dipped super close to mine and he said, “No you don’t, Mara. Unless it’s to tell me you want, just as bad as me, to find out where all we’ve shared could lead. Anything else outta your mouth, right now, I do not want to hear.”

“It’s important,” I told him quietly.

“It’s gonna be fucked up.”

I stared at him and returned, “No, it’s not.”

“I been gone for half an hour and so have the kids. In that time, you’ve been alone and thinkin’ about tonight. This means you’ve had time with nothing to distract you to start to panic about tonight. And
this
means you’ve had time to insert your head right back up your ass and I’m tellin’ you, Mara, I been waitin’ four years for tonight so I’m not lettin’ you fuck this shit up.”

Another direct hit, right on target. Bulls-eye. All my battle stations were crumbling to dust.

“You’ve been waiting four years for tonight?” I asked in a voice that was foreign to my own ears and I knew why. It stupid, stupid, stupidly held hope.

“Baby, I told you that the other night,” he reminded me.

“But –” I started but he cut me off.

“I moved in, you had a man,” he told me a fact I knew and I knew he knew and went on. “He was an asshole and I knew this then because most of the time I saw you goin’ to him and not him comin’ to you. A man’s got a woman like you, he doesn’t make her come to him; he goes to her. I knew this after he was gone because the asshole
was
gone and only an asshole lets go of a good thing.”

Ohmigod! Another direct hit.

He had to stop talking. I had to
make
him stop talking.

“Mitch –”

“Oh no, Mara, you wanna talk, we’re talkin’. We’re gettin’ this shit outta the way and we’re doin’ it fast so we don’t lose our reservation.”

I stared up at him and then glared up at him. “Yes,
I
want to talk but
you’re
the one who’s doing all the talking.”

“That’s because I can see from your face I don’t give a shit what you have to say.”

My glare heated up and I asked, “Did you just say that?”

“Yep,” he replied without hesitation.

“What I have to say is just as important as what you have to say,” I informed him.

“No, what you have to say will be fucked up and twisted and I’m not gonna stand here listenin’ to you fuck up and twist what has been a really good fuckin’ week, Billie freaking out and hurling notwithstanding. And I’m not gonna stand here listening to it
because
we’ve had a really good week because somehow I managed to pull your head outta your ass so we could have that good week and because right now you look fucking unbelievable. I’m hungry and I wanna eat. And I wanna do it sittin’ across a table from you looking like you do right now. Then I wanna bring you home, figure out how to get you out of that sexy-as-hell top and see if I can get you to let you go enough so you’ll let me fuck you in those even sexier fuckin’ shoes.”

I glared at him even though his words seared through me like wildfire.

Then I declared, “This is insane.”

“I’d ask why you think that except I don’t care,” he shot back.

“I think that because it’s insane!” I snapped.

“Jesus, Mara,” he gritted.

I got down to it. “People like you don’t spend time with, go out with or have sex with people like me.”

As the words came out of my mouth, his face went hard.

Then when I was done, he sucked in breath and his head tipped back so all I could see was the column of his throat and the underside of his strong jaw before he muttered to the ceiling, “Jesus, fuck, she’s back there again.” Then before I could say a word, his chin dipped down, his glittering, dark eyes came to mine and his arms gave me a firm squeeze when he replied, “Baby, I’d probably find whatever twisted, fucked up reason you spewed that shit interesting if I was gonna listen to whatever twisted, fucked up reason you spewed that shit which I’m not gonna do. And I’m not gonna do it because I’ve
already
listened to you spewing that twisted, fucked up shit. I didn’t agree with you then. I don’t agree with you now. But now, I got the last week to prove that I’m right and you are fuckin’
wrong.
”

“Mitch!” I yelled. “This is not going to work.”

“It’s been workin’ for a week,” he pointed out.

“That’s because I’ve been living in a dream world,” I returned and his brows shot together.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

“This isn’t the real world, Mitch,” I informed him.

“It
is
, Mara,” he informed me.

“It isn’t going to work!” I cried, getting desperate.

His eyes moved over my face and he studied me a moment before he noted softly, “I see, you’ve wrapped yourself in your cocoon and you’re not lettin’ go.”

“No,” I totally lied. “I just know it isn’t going to work.”

“How can you know that when you haven’t let go long enough to try and make it work for longer than a fuckin’ week?”

“I already told you how. People like you don’t spend time with people like me!” I fired back.

“Yeah, Mara, and
I
already explained this shit to you. I don’t care that your cousin is an assclown, your Mom and aunt are nightmares and don’t mind lettin’ everyone know it and you’ve got a juvie record.” Mitch returned and my body turned to stone.

Ohmigod.

Ohmigod.

“What?” I whispered.

I vaguely watched Mitch’s angry, frustrated features turn alert and his arms tightened around me.

“Mara –” he started.

“You know about my juvenile file?” I was still whispering.

Mitch’s arms got even tighter as his face got more alert.

Then he answered quietly, “I got a friend who’s got a friend who did him a favor, unsealed your record and I know you and your cousin Bill used to be partners in crime.”

My stomach plunged and I tried to pull out of his arms but they got even tighter.

Mitch kept talking. “Mara, the operative words in that are ‘used to be’. You’ve been clean for fourteen years.”

“You had someone unseal my record?” Yes. I was
still
whispering.

“Yeah, I did. You were so closed off, in your own world, for two years after that guy left; you gave me no in, nothin’, not one thing, sealed up tight. I wanted to know what your gig was so I looked into you. Great credit. No debt. Decent savings. Some investments, all safe, no risk. No parking tickets. No traffic violations. Only two jobs and three apartments in thirteen years. But when you were a kid, you got hauled in for public intoxication four times before you were sixteen, once for possession of marijuana and once for drunk and disorderly. Kid shit that all kids do except you were with an assclown who was older than you but wasn’t smart enough to keep you safe and not get you caught.”

He said a lot of words and not a single one registered on me.