Almost Perfect (42 page)

Fourth of July, South Carolina

A roar of delight resounded over the gentle lapping of tide as the flames of a bonfire ignited to sear the night sky. A straw caricature of a pirate cackled and attempted to jump the blaze, only to explode into a dozen red and gold firework stars to the sound of laughter. Unable to resist a publicly sanctioned riot, teenagers raced laughingly down the beach, setting off firecrackers to add to the tumult.

Watching two of the teens roll to the sand in a wrestling match, Jared caught Cleo's shoulder and prevented her rising from the blanket. “He's fine, Cleo. Boys let out their energies in more physical ways than girls.”

“Their testosterone, you mean,” she replied, curling her legs back under her again. With a sigh, she relaxed her stiff stance and rested her head against his shoulder when he wrapped his arm around her. “I suppose it's a fair trade. Kismet is so easy, Gene has to balance it out.”

Jared chuckled. “If you think Kismet is easy, you can have her. That girl has a mind of her own and there's no moving her once she's made it up. Once she heard about that art school, she's been determined to get into it, even though I told her she really needs a college degree and that drawing dragons doesn't guarantee her a job.”

Cleo shrugged. “Give her knowledge, and she'll find her own way.” She glanced at a shadow emerging from the wooded path at the far end of the beach. “It would help both of them if Linda stayed clean for a while.”

Jared watched Linda's uncertain gait stumble across the sand in their direction. Heels, he decided, not alcohol. “I can't believe they let her out already. I'd have kept her locked up until the kids are grown.”

“You'd have kept me locked up until Matty was grown?” she countered. “That's helpful. It's a disease, McCloud, a sickness. It needs treatment and support and understanding, and yeah, I want to slap her around, too, but it's a waste of energy.”

She pulled from Jared's grasp and stood up to meet Linda halfway. Unable to let her face her demons alone, Jared loped after her, hovering just beyond Cleo's shoulder as the two women met on the outskirts of the party.

“They said I could see my kids,” Linda said without preamble. “I just wanta know they're okay.” She glanced somewhat wistfully toward the laughing crowd around the bonfire. “But I guess they're too busy to see me right now.”

“They'll know you're here. Teenagers prefer to pretend their parents don't exist in public, but they like knowing you care enough to check on them. Are you taking that job the plumbing company offered?”

Nervously opening and closing her fingers, watching the antics around the fire rather than face Cleo, Linda nodded. “They said they'd send me to computer class.”

Jared waited for her to thank Cleo for talking the company into risking their time and money on an addict, but Linda didn't broach the subject. Maybe it was understood between the two of them. He'd never fathom women. He'd thought he'd understood when he was
younger, but he was older and wiser now. He didn't know a damned thing.

“Did the caseworker tell you how soon you can have the kids back?”

Linda ran her hand through her newly shorn hair and nodded. “If I stay on the job and keep clean for the next six weeks, I can have them on weekends. They're not taking any chances.”

Jared damned well hoped they weren't. If Billy-Bob Pervert hadn't been sent up for a dozen years, he'd have personally gone into Social Services and had the kids removed from the county. Despite her cynicism, Cleo wanted to give everyone a second and third chance. He loved Cleo's generous spirit, but he'd developed a strong need to protect the innocent since encountering her and her choice of friends. He stroked the nape of her neck now as she shifted uncomfortably, uncertain of what to say next.

“Look who's coming down the road.” Jared nodded toward a stout figure striding across the bridge they'd erected over the sheriff's excavations in the dune. “Linda, you might want to find yourself something to eat over at the tables. Our legal beagle just arrived.”

Linda glanced nervously at the portly lawyer and sidled away. Jared continued to massage Cleo's neck as she stiffened up again. “Easy, kid. He's on your side, remember? I can't believe you argued with him over his bill after he got the feds off your case. He made you a free woman.”

“Yeah, just as I was getting kinda fond of writing insults in my journal. I'll miss that creep counselor. Now I've got to find new ways to get my jollies. Look, he's not even coming over here. He's heading right for Axell and Maya.”

“I can't imagine why.” Jared led her back toward the blanket. He had other plans for this evening, and talking to obnoxious lawyers wasn't one of them. “How could he resist getting his head bit off by my acid-tongued wife instead of schmoozing with a woman who laughs at his jokes, pats his arm, and floats away?”

Cleo punched his arm, and Jared caught her in a choke hold so he could plant a kiss on her forehead. She stood on tiptoe, and bending backward, gave him an upsidedown kiss. This was more like it. He turned her around to do this from a better angle, but a dry voice interrupted his best intentions.

“I took a look at the bones that have been uncovered so far,” TJ said in his usual no-nonsense manner, waiting until he had their attention before continuing. “I want to head an exploratory study on that site. I don't think it's a settler's grave site.”

“Can you keep the damned tourists out?” Cleo demanded. “One of them will break their neck out there looking for pirate gold.”

“Chain link and barbed wire,” he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I'll need a place to stay.”

Jared met Cleo's eyes, read her answer in her softening expression. She was a sucker for wounded souls, and TJ was more wounded than she knew. With a sigh of exasperation, he kissed her as payment for her agreement. Then he lifted his head and glared at his brother. “We're adding a wing to the main house that should be done soon. You can have the beach house then, if you like, but you'll have to find some way of protecting your gear if a hurricane comes along.”

“We need to get busy protecting the site in case one comes along before then. I'll talk to a few people.” He strode off without a word of thanks.

As bad as Linda, Jared decided. He glared at his beaming wife. “We're gonna start a zoo out here, aren't we? All the nutcases in the world unite.”

“Reptiles are my specialty.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

With Cleo, that could be interpreted as a come-on, and Jared grinned.

Matty's cries of delight echoed over the pounding surf, and they both turned to see what he was doing. A rowdy game of chicken volleyball had formed along the water's edge, and Matty was perched on Gene's shoulders, swinging his fists with all his might at the soaring ball. The ball sailed into the water, far out-of-bounds. The golden retriever Jared had bought for him dashed into the water after it. He'd thought the kid deserved one normal pet, but the dog had developed a penchant for hanging out with potbellied pigs. The pig squealed and trotted into the lapping surf after his pal.

“I don't think it can get any better than this.” Cleo sighed contentedly, leaning back against his chest. “I keep waiting for the storm to break over my head.”

“I'll drag you to shelter.” Jared slid the hand circling her waist upward to caress her breast. Despite the distractions, he'd had only one thing on his mind all evening. Maybe now was the time to broach it. “You've got friends and family now, Cleo. You're safe. Bad things may happen, but you won't be alone to handle them. Are you ready to accept that yet?”

She reached behind her to pull his head down for a kiss. He loved the way she expressed herself. She did it with body and soul as much as language. But kisses weren't all he had in mind tonight. He pulled away, waiting for a better answer.

“I'm still trying to accept that you're willing to live
here and not L.A.” As if she'd read his mind, she curled her fingers in his hair, refusing to let him go. “They're dubbing Hollywood voices to your project as we speak. How can you not want to be there?”

He shrugged. “They've paid me good money for that film. They're the best in the business. If they can't do it right, how could I make a difference? I've got my priorities straight. I'm afraid you haven't married a workaholic, love. You're stuck with a beach bum cartoonist.”

“I love my beach bum cartoonist. Don't you think Maya can handle the kids for the rest of the evening? They have a nanny looking out for the baby and nothing better to do.”

Jared laughed. That would be the day when her sister didn't have anything to do. She was probably the one who had started the volleyball game. Motherhood had never slowed her down. But Cleo was on the same track as he was, and he'd give her the point.

“Speaking of babies …” He kissed her neck and fondled her breast, feeling her arousal as keenly as his own. “Do you think we might consider making one of our own someday?”

He held his breath as she moaned softly under his ministrations and wriggled closer. He hadn't realized how much this meant to him until now. He wanted to experience all of life, and this seemed a necessary next step.

“The old biological clock ticking, McCloud?” she teased. “Afraid you won't be able to produce on schedule?”

“I want a baby with green eyes like yours and Matty's,” he whispered against her ear. “A redheaded monster to scream the night away. How can I write about kids unless I have one of my own?”

He could feel laughter vibrating in her chest. She wasn't bolting from him in horror. It was a subject they
should have discussed long ago, but they'd been overwhelmed by all the other problems, and he'd just wanted his ring on her finger before confronting any new ones.

“What if I can't have more?” she asked. “Maybe Matty was a fluke. Maybe I'll be a failure at this parenting business.”

He released her waist and tugged her toward the beach house. “If you're a failure at parenting, then the whole world is in trouble, because there isn't a better mother on the planet. And if we can't make babies on our own, I'm sure we'll find others along the way. There seem to be plenty of kids out there. I just like the idea of
making
them.”

She laughed, a crystal-clear tinkling of music over the sounds of voices and surf. Several heads turned their way, but they returned to their activities when they noted Jared's direction. The beach house was only yards away.

“
I
like the idea of
making
them,” she mocked. “It's the
minding
of them that requires a superhero. Ready for that responsibility, Superman?”

Jared caught her by the waist and hauled her into his arms, carrying her up the last few steps of the porch and into the house. He nuzzled her neck through her screams of laughter, his heart pumping ferociously at the thought of the night ahead. The primitive need to procreate had conquered his imagination.

“I'm not the superhero here,” he murmured, dropping her to her feet and pushing her toward the stairs to their room. “I'm not the one who can carry a ten-pound bowling ball around inside me for nine months, and I'm not the one willing to suffer the pains of childbirth in return for a screaming bundle of gas and liquids. I'm simply the lackey willing to run out for chocolate pistachio caramel ice cream in the middle of the night at the request of my superior.”

Cleo raced up the stairs, laughing, and flopped backward into the nest of their wide bed. “Will you do it in the rain?” she demanded. “Will you do it in a hurricane? Will you, will you, Superman?”

Kicking off his sandals and dropping his shirt on the floor, Jared fell on top of her, catching his weight on his hands as he smothered her face in kisses. “If we're really good, maybe we can beat the hurricane season. Otherwise, I'll have to buy a yacht. I'm not trying that helicopter stunt in a hurricane.”

“Supercomic,” she whispered against his scratchy beard, taking his face in her hands and holding him still to kiss him. “I'd have heart failure if you took to the skies. Give me your baby, and I promise to love him with all the love in me. That's the best offer I can make.”

“Her,” he insisted. “I want a green-eyed witch. We already have a son to spoil.”

Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes, running into the red curls at her temple as she hugged him tightly. “I don't deserve you,” she murmured. “But Matty does,” she finished firmly, before he could argue.

“When you're big and round and cranky with my child, you'll think differently,” he answered confidently. “Until then, fine, I'm easy. I'll be Supercomic, and you can be X-Lady, capable of stomping wrongs in a single bound.”

She giggled, and Jared took that as a signal to continue on the path toward his goal. As he slipped the buttons from his wife's shirt, and felt her hips surge eagerly against him, he didn't think he'd have any problem focusing on his objective this time. X-Lady's powerful magnetism held him firmly on a righteous path, but he suspected that path might include a curve or two to keep things interesting. As far as he was concerned, that made life almost perfect.

As a glowing mechanical Tinkerbell soared across the
dusk near the ceiling, Cleo reached for the elastic waistband of his swimsuit. March, he calculated. He'd be SuperDaddy in March.