Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) (20 page)

Her eyes tearing, she regained control, reminding him again how incredibly strong she was. "But that would be selfish. I'm here to help mothers reunite with their children—
if
it's in the child's best interest. In Luz' case, she's dangerous and unstable. But there are mothers out there who are just too young— or too poor. Or who just don't know any better. But they love their kids."

"And you think this system works for them?" Jeff was humbled by her. By her ethics— that she would work through a fractured and broken system because it was all that was available. No matter that she risked losing the little boy she loved more than life. Marisol saw the big picture— what helped the most people.

She nodded. "I have to believe that . . . or I couldn't do this."  

"Mari, love— you're the most amazing person I know."

"I don't feel amazing," she admitted. "I'm terrified of losing Hector. I take him h-home every night . . . and we— we have a life. It's a small, wonderful life. I don't want to lose it. But there's always the possibility. . . I could."

There was nothing small about her wonderful life. And Jeff was never more grateful to be part of it. "Babe . . . while you may not have the money to make Luz respond to legal demand letters— you realize I do, right?"

"Jeff— you can’t-"

"How can you stop me, Mariboo?" He smiled when she stiffened against him.

"I usually punch Manny when he uses that name."

"Duly noted." Relieved to see a spark of the old Marisol, he smiled. Skimming his hands down her arms, he loved the softness of her skin.

"I was only polite that day because you were meeting my brother for the first time."

Her grumpy admission widened his grin. "
That
was polite?" A telling blush heated her cheeks. "You looked pretty comfortable with that bat in your hand," he admitted. "For a minute . . . I thought you were gonna use it on him."

"On his truck, actually."

Jeff cracked up. "Remind me never to piss you off."  

"I was worried you'd think I was strange for having an overprotective brother stalking us."

"You still haven’t explained what that was about," he reminded. "I’m dying to know why Manny was cruising our jobsite for two days— and sitting outside your place overnight. That’s some serious family closeness."

"There is— something I need to tell you-" Mari hesitated. "It’s not important now."

"Whenever you want." He stroked the sudden tension from her back. This was right. Being with Marisol. Despite the fact that he'd never felt more— exposed. Realizing that he . . .
cared
for her left Jeff distinctly vulnerable. But as unfamiliar as that felt, this . . . caring— also made him feel so damn good.  

Whether Mari liked it, he was going full court press with Specialty's attorney. Deborah was already researching how to shut down Luz Covas and speed up the adoption. And he would have that chat with his brother-in-law, Charlie. Until the Phil situation was resolved, they needed to beef up security around New Beginnings. Any measures they put in place seemed to get shredded by the construction schedule.

Jeff realized he wanted Pete more involved. If he hadn't been holding Marisol in his arms, he would have laughed. Despite the giant's numerous idiosyncrasies, Pete was damned talented when it came to noticing— everything. Between Pete and Hank, they had two highly trained, former military, kick-ass stars in their presence— united in the protection of women and children. They should be able to develop
plenty
of creative ideas— though probably leaning more toward physical resolution over diplomatic.

Maybe the best thing for New Beginnings would be Phil disappearing— or damn well wishing he had.  

Chapter 9

It had been an eventful week, Marisol realized a few days later.

"Mama, hurry up. I needs to go potty."

Inserting her key in the lock, she hastened her pace on Hector’s command. "Remember to wash your hands."

As he raced down the hallway, she tossed her keys in the bowl, her mind splintering in ten directions. Jefferson would arrive soon for baseball practice. Smiling, she took a moment to bask in the glow of how well things were going. Jeff had been true to his word. He’d promised Hector he would try to attend his games . . . and he'd made every game. Every practice. Hector was lapping it up. He loved being with Jeff— loved talking baseball. Loved being tucked in every night. Jeff was a presence in their home nearly every evening now. Increasingly, she couldn’t help thinking about their future— that they might actually have one together.

Her experience with Nick made her more conscious of the stages of her relationship with Jeff. Though she tried not to compare them, Marisol was vibrantly aware of time. At the three month point she’d been head over heels with Nick. Now, at the three month point with Jefferson, when she analyzed her feelings, it was so much deeper and stronger. There could be no comparison to her younger self. Despite knowing that, she increasingly suspected she was holding back . . . reining herself in against the giddy elation she experienced with Jeff. She hated being so cautious. It wasn’t fair to Jeff
or her
to remain so guarded when what she really wanted was to have everything with him. Sharon was right. Soon, she would have to sit Jeff down and discuss her past.

The tap on her door came at the same moment Hector burst from the bathroom. "Mama— what’s for dinner? I’m starvin’"

She opened the door to Jefferson, smile on his face and a pizza in his hands. "You have perfect timing."

Leaning over the box separating them, Jeff kissed her, lingering over the task. "You know— I’ve heard that before."

"C’mon, Jeff. You can kiss mommy later. We need to eat before practice. I don’t want to be late."

"Okay, Hec. Let’s get the plates out." Winking at her, he headed for the kitchen. "Remember, I’m kissing you later."

"It’s a date." Obviously, the Nick discussion would not take place this evening. But Marisol made a mental promise that she would get to it soon.

***

"So— Luz has made contact?" Jefferson frowned. "How do you feel about that?"

Marisol rested her head against the couch. They’d finally gotten Hector to bed twenty minutes earlier. "Sharon took the call." Probably a good thing, she admitted, unsure how she would have handled it. "So, I haven’t actually spoken with her. But Sharon says Luz claims she doesn’t want to make any trouble this time."

Jeff set his drink on the coffee table. "From what you’ve told me, that would be a first, right?"

"She claims to have Hector’s best interests at heart, but I can’t imagine Luz having some sort of epiphany about him. Supposedly, she’s moving on and she wants the best for him." Shifting to face him, she sighed. "It can't be true, though. We watched the video DSS sent over. Luz was clearly strung out— so she's not off drugs . . . or if she is, it's only been days. Not weeks or months of sobriety." 

His expression darkened. "I don’t like this, Mari. Can’t we stop her from seeing him?"

She loved how Jeff said ‘we’ when he spoke of Hector. Jeff was clearly crazy about her little boy. "I want to be thrilled by this development— that she might
finally
be ready to sign over custody voluntarily, but I can’t bring myself to trust her. She’s never, ever kept her word— to him . . . or us."

Lowering her voice, Marisol was conscious of how sound carried. "She's hurt him so many times— with her promises." She would never want Hector to overhear them discussing his mother. No matter how awful Luz was, Marisol would never turn him against her. When Hector was older, he could draw his own conclusions.

Jeff pulled her closer, until she rested against his shoulder. "We’ll get through it. If this is her last visit, then we’re lucky. If not, we make the best of it. We’re not going to let her get anywhere near him where she could hurt him. I promise you that."

"Jeff-" It was there . . . hovering in the air between them. Marisol wanted so badly to just blurt it out. That she loved him. That she needed him. So much— she needed him. She’d never felt this way before. That another person had become so essential, she'd question whether she could do it alone. Of course, the sensible, practical Mari
knew
she could do it on her own. She'd proved she could. But increasingly, she just didn't want to do it alone anymore.

"I’m so glad you’re on my side." Brushing a kiss along his jaw, Mari recognized how much faith she had in him. It was comforting and worrying at the same time. "Just talking with you makes me feel— stronger. More confident."

Gentle fingers stroked along her arm. "If I’m completely honest, what I really want is to stop Luz cold . . . to go over her head and get a court to side with us and make her go away permanently."

Increasingly, Jeff held power. If she'd learned anything from her previous relationship, it was that power could be abused. With Nick it had always been about him.
His
needs.
His
wants. His moods. Nothing and no one else was important to him. In a lifetime, she couldn't imagine Nick embracing Hector into his world.

Sighing, Jeff kissed the top of her head. "But I know talking strategy won’t set your heart at ease. And I want you to feel better. So— for tonight only, I’m settling for reassurance instead of action."

Contentment washing over her, Marisol shifted in his arms. In her soul, she knew Jeff would never abuse his power. Gorgeous green eyes were lit with a combination of amusement and impatience. "Since you like fixing everything, I can only imagine what this restraint is costing you."

"Well, I need to take charge of something," he admitted, his expression disgruntled. "I think maybe now is a good time for the kissing to start." 

***

It was much later when Marisol woke in their bed. "Jefferson— wake up."

"Huh? What's . . . wrong?"

"It’s after midnight. You need to go home," she whispered, guilt poking her over his sleep-roughened voice. "Hector can't find you here in the morning.’

Groaning, Jeff sat up, his tousled bedhead looking dangerously sexy. She resisted the impulse to finger-comb it.

"Mari— I'm coming back in the morning anyway. Hector's game is at nine."

"But. . . I shouldn't let him see a man-"

"I'm not just
some
man, Marisol. Hector has seen me here for months." His expression shifted from sleepy to disgruntled. "If I promise I’ll be up by six-thirty and dressed before he wakes up?"

Marisol bit her lip to keep from laughing. Jeff’s negotiating voice was equal parts surly and persuasive. "What if we oversleep?"

"I
never
oversleep." Sensing her weakening resolve, Jeff turned to face her, his beautiful eyes more alert now. "I like staying here with you. I don’t sleep well in my bed anymore."

"Why not? I thought you needed space. You certainly hog the bed here," she teased.

"What can I say? This ripped physique requires extra room." His sleepy grin revealed a dimple. "Besides, I’m hardly ever at my place anymore." 

Hiding her smile, she decided to make him work for it. "Didn’t you tell me you loved sleeping in your bed?"

"I've sort of— gotten used to this one," he admitted, his voice hesitant. "When I'm home, I wake up all the time."

"Why?"

"It's like I'm . . . looking for you." Yawning, his shoulders rippled with a shrug. "I like knowing you're there."

Though her heart soared over the admission, Mari wasn't through teasing him. "What about— my bathroom? You hate showering here. You always complain about my girly stuff."

Unwilling to concede defeat, Jeff stayed in the game. "If we busted out a wall, I could give you an awesome bathroom."

"With more shelves for my girly things?" She coughed to cover her laughter.

"With cabinets," he corrected, warming to his idea. "Maybe cherry. We could hide all that shit-" Recovering quickly, he grinned. "I mean . . . there'd be plenty of space for everyone's stuff." Sliding back under the covers, he pulled her down on top of him. "I could build you a big, roomy shower— we could do just about anything in there."

Her pulse stuttering, Marisol realized somewhere along the line, she'd lost control of their conversation. "While I'm rather enticed by-" She paused, throat suddenly dry as the heat of strong thighs nudged hers apart. "By . . . the idea of a new bathroom— we still have the original issue-"

"What issue is that?" Jeff's voice was distracted as he shifted amazing hips under hers. Rising up to accommodate him, Mari experienced the familiar, urgent pull of his body. Rational thought would disintegrate rapidly. "H-hector . . . waking up and . . . waking up-" His strong, capable hands were busy guiding her hips over him. ". . . finding you h-here-" Those amazing hands. The strength of them— anchoring her to his body. Arching into him, she bit back a groan. "Jefferson— hurry . . .
prisa
."

When he surged into her, they moaned in unison. "I have . . . an internal clock." Jeff's rusty voice scraped over her as she tried to focus on his words. But the sensation of his body moving within her was taking up all the room in her brain.

On a shiver of exquisite pleasure, she gasped. "Yes . . . like that." His eyes intent with concentration, Jeff smiled up at her, happy to accommodate her demand for more.

"Baby, trust me . . . I'll wake us up on time." 

***

"Jeff— hey Jeff."

It was the second time that night someone was shaking him awake. Jeez— he just couldn't catch a break. Opening one eye, Jeff met Hector's steady brown gaze.

Hector. Standing at the side of the bed.

Hector
. Code red.

"Hey, buddy." Shooting for the appearance of cool, calm and collected, Jeff shook off the sleep clouding his brain. Was he naked? Was Mari? Should he look? Would that be obvious? Holy cow.

"Jeff — if you was sleepin' over . . . why didn't you stay in my room? We coulda built a tent and played flashlights and everything."

"Next time, Hec," he croaked. "I promise."
Next
time he'd remember to lock the door. His brain rallying, Jeff took stock. Okay— he felt the sheet over them. He also felt Marisol's shoulders shaking with laughter behind him. Damn, she'd been right.

"I'm hungry. I need Mommy to make breakfast."

"Okay, little dude— here's what we're gonna do." Propping up on one elbow, Jeff ran a hand through his hair. "Go put on your sweatpants-"
Excellent
idea. That would give him a minute to jump up and find some clothes. He spied his shirt on the chair . . . but where the hell were his pants?

"Are you naked?" Hector's voice rose in curiosity. "Aren't you cold? I'd be cold."

Marisol was outright, no-holds-barred cracking up now— as she slithered further under the blankets. "I— uh . . . get really hot during the night." He ignored the jab to his ribs. Damn it, she wasn't helping any. "That's why I. . . You know what? I have a great idea, Hec. Let's make breakfast together. That way Mommy gets to sleep a little longer and she can come down when it's all ready."

"I get to help?" His eyes widened. "Just you and me? Awesome!" Running for the door, Hector shouted over his shoulder. "I'll be right back." About to tear the sheet off and leap from the bed, Jeff froze when Hector stopped at the door.

"Don't start anything without me."      

His heart pounding as though he'd been caught holding up a bank, Jeff nodded. "Not a chance, bud." The moment Hector disappeared, he bolted up in search of his briefs.

"Hey, sailor— nice butt."

Tempted to flash her, he remembered the meter running.
Eyes on the prize, Traynor
. He could hear Hector trashing his room in search of the elusive sweatpants. Only when Jeff had secured the lower half of his body, did he turn to respond. "Okay— lay it on me. You were right. I can admit it."

Covers drawn up to her chest, Mari's sexy hair tumbled over her shoulders. "You
do
get really hot during the night."

Grinning, he met her gaze. "You could've helped me out there."

"You know, carino, I agree your ripped physique is capable of . . . so many amazing things." Her gaze ran over him suggestively— making Jeff wish he wasn't on pancake duty just yet. "But your internal clock is definitely on the fritz."

***

"Where's Hank?"

Annie's worried expression broke through the hazy daydream Mari was indulging in when she should've been working. This is what love did, she realized. It made you goofy and happy and light-hearted in the middle of an average day at work. She was in love with Jefferson. Hands down, full on, smacked-in-the-head love.

Seated across from her, Sharon set aside the budget she'd been reviewing, bracelets jangling. "Don't worry, Sugar. He's just takin' a day or two off. That's what Stud Muffin told me this morning."