Along Came Trouble(37)

“You’re hitting on me.”

“That, too.”

Oh, God. She had to get her head on straight, but she was trapped here with Henry at her feet, Caleb filling her entire field of vision, and a quartet of strangers for an audience.

He inched closer until his knee bumped the outside of her thigh and she had to look up to meet his eyes. “They’re watching us,” she said. Helpless.

“Mmm-hmm.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek, and the light touch did something insane to her pulse. “If I concede on the alarm, will you give in on the lights?” His eyes had gone hot and dark. She couldn’t stop looking at his lips. They were very nice lips.

The lights weren’t actually a terrible idea. There had been times when she’d heard noises in the dark backyard that had kept her awake, wondering what they were. “They’ll come on every time the raccoons go after my garbage cans.”

“Let me have the lights, or I’ll have no choice but to stand watch on your front porch all night long, every night until this blows over.” He made this threat in a voice so low and full of sexual promise that her nipples drew tight. His fingers dropped to her shoulder and then slowly trailed down her arm to her hand, which he held.

“You wouldn’t do that,” she whispered, her eyes on the divot at the base of his throat. “Your feet would get tired.”

“I was military police, honey. I have thousands of hours of practice standing around guarding things.” He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. “Though I have to say, standing out here thinking about you in there, in bed, without me? That would be a new form of torture.”

She could imagine how it would go. Caleb on her porch in the dark. Her, tossing and turning in bed, fantasizing about him. Lying awake for hours. Finally giving up before dawn, leading him to her room in the gray light of morning.

With Caleb out there guarding her, she would be the farthest possible thing from safe. She would be two steps away from becoming his next Chiclet.

She was having trouble remembering why that was a problem.

It came to her finally: Pride. Self-worth. Independence. She didn’t want a man in her life, but if she changed her mind about that, she would find one who respected her opinion and didn’t try to influence her. The kind of guy who wouldn’t attempt to bulldoze over her objections to his security plan.

She took a step back. A small step. Progress came in small steps.

“No alarm. No lights. You got that, Clark?” She poked him in the chest for emphasis. It was like poking a cinder block. But yeah, okay, nicer. Firm and warm. Her hand flattened out on his chest. “Don’t mess with me. Don’t try to push me around. Don’t manipulate me.”

He captured her fingers and held them in place, which gave him both of her hands. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers, very lightly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

If she’d been able to think, she would have figured out that as responses went, his didn’t even make sense. As it was, she had to close her eyes and breathe for a minute. Then she’d take another step backward. In a minute.

She was still reeling when Henry said, “That is?” and she looked down the drive to see another car pulling up behind the security SUV.

Maureen’s car.

With Richard in the driver’s seat, his mother beside him.

She pulled away from Caleb and said several of the worst words she could think of under her breath. How unfair that she should have to collect herself from this Caleb onslaught, only to have to withstand another one from Richard.

But then, as her mother had always told her when she complained, life wasn’t fair.

“That’s your daddy again, sweetheart. Shall we go say hello?”

All the way to the car with Henry in her arms, Caleb walked beside them, expressionless and stern. This was his soldier face, she realized. Strange that she hadn’t seen it before now.

Richard had one arm draped casually out the car window and was tapping a finger to the music. Something Celtic. It figured that he’d put on one of his CDs for the two-mile drive over. Richard always insisted the driver got to choose the music. He also always insisted on driving.

Her challenging stare did nothing to wilt his enthusiasm. “Hi again, Els,” he said. “You look great.”

She glanced down at herself for the second time in five minutes. She was still wearing the khaki shorts and the Butter Cow T-shirt. Was she missing something, or had the entire world gone mad?