Broken Angels (13 page)

“Come on, furball.” The puppy whined as Zach hooked an arm under his belly and lifted him off his feet. “Time for bed.”

He placed the dog in the basket Becca had fashioned for him, then closed the door to the basement so he couldn’t escape. Next, he checked the rest of the house, made sure all the locks were engaged and the windows shut. When he was convinced he’d taken care of everything, he rubbed the strain from his neck and trudged upstairs, happy another crisis had been averted.

Two blocks away, Raymond York made a phone call. “I’ve got it.” Water pelted on his windshield, reminding him he was soaked, covered in germs. The same germs now rolled off him to contaminate his car. He’d have to have the interior shampooed again.

“Good.” His employer’s relief resonated in Raymond’s ear. “Did you wipe the hard drive clean?”

“Better. I crashed the system.”

An unsettling pause followed. “That’s not what I asked you to do.” The reproach in his boss’s voice was unmistakable.

Raymond’s hackles rose. “If I’d erased all the files, they would have gotten suspicious. This way is better. There’s a thunderstorm tonight. They’ll just blame the crash on a power surge.”

His boss didn’t respond, but Raymond felt the other man’s frustration rippling through the line as surely as the white flashes slicing the sky. “Bring me the files.”

That was the last thing he said before the phone went dead.

“So,” Becca asked the moment Zach made his way upstairs, “was someone there?”

“Nope. Just an open window and some rain.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

Weariness slowly seeped in to replace adrenaline. “I went through the whole place with a fine-toothed comb. Trust me, everything’s fine.” The open window still nagged at him, but he decided to attribute his restlessness to paranoia and a bad case of fatigue and leave it at that.

“Did you let Bolt in?”

“I locked him in the basement. Where he’ll spend the rest of the night,” he added in the event she entertained the notion of springing him. “The last thing we need is for his
super bark
to wake the kids. I’m surprised they slept through all this racket.”

Becca nodded her acquiescence. “What now?”

“Now we go to bed.”

Heat flickered in her eyes, and his gaze couldn’t help but wander downward. He took in the sight of her full breasts—barely concealed by that tiny top—her flat belly, the gentle flare of her hips, and an altogether different kind of tension crawled through his veins. He hadn’t meant to suggest they go to bed together, but the implication was there, hovering like a tangible mist between them.

She cleared her throat, took a step away from him. “I’ll just head back to my room then.” Was that a note of hesitation in her voice?

“See you in the morning,” he replied before he was tempted to join her.

“Sure. In the morning.” With a quirk of the lips, which he interpreted as an attempt at a smile, she inched toward her bedroom.

When the door closed behind her, his shoulders slumped in relief. Things were getting way too complicated for his liking.

As exhaustion and desire dueled inside him, he sought the safe comfort of his own room. He’d barely managed to stretch out on the twin mattress and close his eyes when the door opened and Becca sailed in.

“Zach,” she intoned so softly he barely heard her. “Are you awake?”

“That seems to be a permanent state with me.”

The mattress sagged as she sat beside him. A long, unsettling pause followed. He was aware of each inhalation she drew, the whisper of her pajama bottoms as they brushed his sheets. Her familiar fragrance wafted toward him, soothed and enfolded him like a long-lost friend. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” she finally confessed.

All the feelings he’d crammed into a ball and buried deep within him unraveled all at once. It had been so long since someone had worried about him, since someone had sat at his bedside and whispered softly to him. His resolve ruptured from the weight of his loneliness, until only need and tenderness remained.

“Ah, Becca…” He reached up and cupped her cheek, let his fingers venture into the sinful web of hair on her head to settle at the base of her skull. Then he drew her to him.

Their lips met in a furious explosion of fire and need. She tasted the same—sweet and seductive, moist and inviting. Kissing her was like coming home. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, her tongue, the feel of those fire-kissed curls caressing his arm. He was lost, adrift in an ocean where desire ruled, where thought ceased to be and only sensation mattered.

The past blurred. Nothing existed but this moment. He trailed his fingers down her throat, slid them over her shoulder. His blood pounded to the rhythm of his heart, fast and furious. The hunger to savor and possess, to cherish and devour assailed him. He hooked his thumb beneath the strap of her tank top and yanked it down, exposing a perfect white breast.

She sucked in a breath, broke the kiss. “Zach, what are we doing?” Her voice was throaty, short and winded.

“I don’t know.” He ran his mouth over her cheek, kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, traced the curve of her neck with his lips. “All I know is that I don’t want to stop.”

She sighed and went liquid against him. Heat thrummed between them—a living, breathing thing that screamed to be acknowledged. A groan vibrated deep in his throat, and he palmed her breast, loving the weight of it, the warmth of it as it filled his hand. He wanted to draw her nipple into his mouth, to bury himself in her hot, tight folds and drown in her softness. He wanted it so bad every inch of him ached.

In one smooth sweep he spun her on the bed beneath him. She was warm and supple and willing. Fervency shone in her eyes as she raised her chin to kiss him. He trapped her lower lip between his teeth, nipped and tugged at it lightly. She made a sound that was thin and eager and entirely feminine, then arched her hips against his, only stoking the flames consuming him.

“Lord, I’ve missed you,” he mumbled against her mouth. Desperate to feel flesh on flesh, heat on heat, he reached down, began to peel off her pajama bottoms…

Then a shrill wail rang out and snapped them out of their daze.

Will was awake.

A string of choice curses zipped through Zach’s brain, but he refrained from voicing them. With a pained grunt, he eased himself off the bed, took a minute or two to quiet the roar of his pulse, then turned his back to the bewitching woman wrapped in his sheets. He needed to get a hold of himself, and gazing down at her swollen lips and exposed breasts wasn’t the way to do it. A cold shower would do the trick, but he doubted Will would be that patient.

When his blood cooled, settling from scorching hot to a slow simmer, he made his way to the crib and lifted the crying toddler.

The baby kicked and punched at him, nearly choking on his sobs. “Mama, Mama, Mama…”

This was nothing new. Will often awoke in a state of panic, calling for his mother. Sometimes it took nearly an hour to soothe him and get him back to sleep. Zach tamped down his exhaustion and prepared for another sleepless night.

Becca, who’d straightened her clothing and crawled out of bed, came to stand beside him. She watched Will with unmasked distress. “Why is he so upset? Is he sick?”

“Yeah.” Zach cradled Will, even as the baby fought to break free. “Heartsick.” He held him close to his chest and comforted him as best he could, knowing full well it wasn’t his comfort the toddler craved.

She said nothing, but he felt her anguish, saw it in the way she raised her fingers to her lips and in the soft shimmer that came into her eyes. “Can I hold him?”

Her words nearly knocked him off his feet. “Are you sure?”

She nodded meekly. “I want to try.”

Reluctantly, he passed her the child. She held him awkwardly at first, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with him. Will struggled against her, shoved her away with his small fists, used his feet to climb up her ribs and push with all his might. Still, she held on, gently stroking his back. She walked to the rocking chair, which squatted at the far corner of the room, and sank into it with the baby safely tucked in her arms. Then she began to rock him, humming softly. Peace descended upon the house, silent and glorious. Will relaxed and closed his eyes, but even after he fell asleep, Becca continued to hold him next to her heart.

From across the room Zach watched her. He noted how naturally the child fit in the crook of her elbow, how his head nested against her shoulder and his legs curled over hers. They looked like one being, fused by tenderness, two pieces of a puzzle merging to find completion.

And for the first time, he understood.

He understood her pain, her longing, her emptiness, the senseless despair that had gripped her, and something inside him died a small death. Never before had he wished so ardently that he could give her everything she wanted, everything she needed to be whole. All he’d ever given her were false reassurances and a truckload of grief.

Crushed by the weight of his regret, he ate up the distance between them and fell to his knees beside her. Her eyelids were closed, but he knew she was awake because fresh tears glistened on her cheeks. Words rarely evaded him as they did now. Maybe there weren’t any words to express how he felt. Instead, he simply rested his head in her lap.

She meshed her fingers in his hair and caressed him the way she had the baby. Zach closed his eyes and allowed her touch to heal the wounds inflicted by loss, the thin scars of remorse he would forever bear. A lulling serenity settled over him, and he, too, drifted effortlessly to sleep.

They stayed like that well into the night—man, woman and child joined as one—until the pale rays of dawn spilled into the room and the sun peeked over the clouds to shed its milky light.

Chapter Twelve

The violent rainfall had ended, but humidity lingered, speckling the trees with dew. Grass and flower petals shimmered in the early morning sun, despite the thin haze that clung to the ground. Everything appeared new, cleansed and reborn.

Rebecca sat on the back porch, sipping her coffee as she watched the children play with Bolt. A brisk breeze made the trees shiver, and she drew the sides of her jacket closer together. The day would warm up eventually, but now a biting chill still hovered in the air.

After last night she should have been exhausted. Instead, a strange energy coursed through her. Memories of Zach’s touch, Zach’s kisses, fueled a firestorm deep inside her. Every inch of her skin burned. She hadn’t felt anything like this in years, and she didn’t quite know what to do with it. Emotions she’d never expected to experience again saturated her bloodstream, tied her up in knots.

She felt like a teenager—awkward, antsy, ruled by hormones and impossible fantasies. She didn’t want to go down that path again. She’d walked it many times before, and at the end, only pain awaited her. It was dangerous to love a man too much. It gave him the power to raise you to unrivaled heights of bliss and the power to destroy you. There was no happy medium, no safety net. Only pulse-pounding highs and soul-shattering lows. She’d had more than her share of disappointments and heartbreaks. She didn’t think she could survive another.

Will hobbled toward her and grabbed hold of her leg for support, then gave her a drool-drenched smile. The knots in her belly tightened. She still couldn’t believe she’d held him last night, rocked him to sleep. The fact that he’d actually found her embrace soothing filled her with pride.

If the truth be told, she’d drawn as much comfort from the act as he. His soft cheek snuggled against her breast, the feel of his little body going boneless in her arms had warmed her like a blanket on a cold winter’s day. Twin blades of joy and pain had knifed through her, making the experience as bitter as it was sweet. She desperately wanted to open her heart to these children, to give them all the love she’d stored up for the ones she’d never have, and yet she was terrified to do so.

She wasn’t their mother and never would be. What if they didn’t return her love? What if she lost them? She knew she couldn’t live with Zach forever. Sooner or later she’d have to move out. Then she’d have no choice but to walk away from the kids as well. She didn’t think she was strong enough to live with that kind of loss. Her best bet was to keep her heart out of it.

Will cooed and raised his arms to her. She bit her lower lip as her resolve disintegrated. Reluctantly, she reached for him and drew him onto her lap. Liquid warmth swam through her veins. Before she could stop herself, she feathered a kiss over the scraggy yellow mop on his head.

She closed her eyes to block out the glaring light of the sun, but it continued to dance along her eyelids. She snickered at the irony. Shutting these kids out of her heart was about as futile as hiding from the light…or quelling her love for their uncle.

Zach walked onto the porch, a hot cup of coffee clasped between his fingers. Barks, yowls and giggles greeted him. Noah and Kristen were playing ball with the dog. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. These last couple of days were the first he’d seen them happy in weeks. He didn’t know how long it would last. The novelty of the puppy would wear off eventually, and reality would creep in to steal their joy again. Helplessness was a bitter pill to swallow. There was nothing he wouldn’t give to preserve their innocence, but he couldn’t. Tragedy had found them and stolen it from them. Particularly Noah.

“You look refreshed.” Becca’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed her sitting on the porch with Will in her lap.

“Considering the night we had, I feel pretty invigorated.”

“Must be the rain. It has a way of renewing everything.” Will tugged at her hair, then placed the lock in his mouth. Becca flinched and slowly pried it free from his gums.

“Still letting him slobber all over you, I see.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a dreamy pair of blue eyes and a toothless grin.”

Zach smiled. “Remind me never to get dentures.” Again, he was struck by the image of Becca with the baby in her arms. It reminded him of last night, of the way he’d fallen asleep with his head buried in her lap and her fingers twined in his hair.