Stuck On You (18 page)

Mack seemed like he was enjoying himself, too. He was whistling. But even though he looked relaxed, she knew that he was alert and ready for action.

He fascinated her, but the man didn't trust a soul. Well, she couldn't blame him. He had been almost suffocated, shot at, his house had blown up, his co-cops turned on him, and his father hated his profession.

“You said that your parents know that you are alive?”

“Yes,” Mack said. “Pop had a catharsis when he thought I was dead and has come to the conclusion that it’s better that I am a live cop, than a dead one.”

“Well, that’s good. Things are okay between you and him.”

“We’ll talk when all this is over.”

“That’s great. Life is too short.”

"He always thought I should be a corporate lawyer like my brother, Mike. Mickey was the studious one in our family. I liked living on the edge."

"You sure do."

"Life hasn't been dull lately, although I could appreciate a little dullness for a while."

"And my usually dull life has never been this exciting," Kate said.

Mack put his arm around her shoulder, and Kate felt content and happy and safe. But could she protect him in turn? As they walked down the path to the pond, they could hear the haunting call of the loons. Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath of air, letting her head fall back. "Mmmmm..."

"Don't open your eyes, Kate. Not yet."

She felt a soft pair of lips on hers. "Mmmmm...I sure hope that's you, John."

"Do you know that when you're excited, you call me John?" he whispered.

His voice vibrated clear through to her bones. It was soft, low, and she was in heaven. "Don't stop."

And he didn't.

And she didn't.

Until they heard a noise in the brush. Then they both dropped to the ground and pulled their guns.

A loon squawked at them and flew into the pond.

They both laughed and put their guns away.

"Hey, Kate! That was a pretty quick draw you just did there?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Told you so."

"You know what? I should have bet a paycheck that you would have worked and worked at getting good at shooting. You're not the type to just get by. That's what I've always loved about you." He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. Then he helped her up from the sand.

"I think we're both a little jumpy," she said.

"I think you're one hell of a partner."

"That's a major compliment coming from you, Mack."

Mack. John Mackowitz.

She loved him, but he drove her crazy.

"How about if I cook us some dinner?" she asked.

"Do we have anything?"

"I packed the makings for ziti and a salad."

"You're beautiful, Kate Kingston. I love you!" He picked her up and swung her around.

Her heart beat wildly. If only he'd tell her seriously that he loved her, when he wasn't just reacting to the fact that she remembered to bring food.

Mack kissed her again, and she felt it right to her core.

"You get the food rockin', and I'll build a fire."

"How romantic," Kate said. "Stereotypical roles!"
"After that we’ll make some plans–some tactical plans in case this really is a setup." He winked. "Then how about a little make-out session in front of the fire?"

Her heart did a flip-flop in her chest and her cheeks turned warm in anticipation. “I’ve waited since high school to hear you ask me that.”

#

 Mack found a woodpile down the road. It was probably Lou's private stock.

He lugged an arm load of wood back to Loon 12. As he climbed the stairs, Kate walked on to the deck. She had changed into a white tee shirt and a pair of red shorts. Her legs were long and sexy. Kate was one sexy woman.

She held the door to the cabin open for him and smiled, and suddenly Mack was back in high school. It was the day of the big game and Kate was there, looking cute, sweet and hot.

Before he could catch his breath, he tripped and fell with a thud onto the deck at Kate's feet. The firewood went flying as a pain shot up his leg.

"Oh, no! Mack! Are you okay?"

He curled up like a boiled shrimp.

She bent down and put her palm on his forehead. "Are you feeling okay? Did you hurt your head? Are you delirious?"

He laughed, then sobered. He pulled her down on top of him and couldn't help but notice that she fit him perfectly, not to mention the fact that she was the most exciting, intriguing woman that he had ever known.

"I just realized something."

"That you need to be committed to a mental hospital?"

"No! It was you I was scoping out the day of the big game. You were so damn cute in your sensible suit, scribbling in your steno notebook, reporting for
The Rooster Crows
. I couldn't stop staring at you. Just like now! And I tripped running out on the field and fell on my face. Don’t you remember everyone laughing?”

“Vaguely. But are you telling me that you tripped and fell looking at me?" She grinned. “I like that!”

Mack chuckled. “You’re gloating.”

“Absolutely. But still, let me get this straight. You tripped because I was so cute back then and you tripped now because I'm so gorgeous. You were gaping at me?”

"Guilty as charged."

“Hmmm...that’s the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.”

He wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with his finger and then touched it to his lips. "I hope you're crying because you're happy, and not because you're in pain on this hard deck." His eyes twinkled with humor.

"Why didn’t you ask me out?"

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think you’d go out with me.”

“What made you think that?”

“I guess it was because you seemed so fragile, so serious. You seemed untouchable. So different.”

“I was lonely...and shy...and an outsider.” 
“I know that now, but I was too full of myself then.” He hugged her tight to him and kissed her. “But tonight, we can make up for lost time.”

CHAPTER 10

As the tomato sauce dried on the dishes, Mack and Kate made several contingency plans to prepare for anyone who came looking for him. He made her rehearse again and again. Mack was a patient instructor and Kate was a serious student. They both knew what was at stake.

But in between drills, they kidded and joked. Kate loved it when Mack laughed. He had come a long way from the stubborn and argumentative cop that she remembered the day he was released to her program.

Well, maybe he was still a little argumentative, and still more than a little stubborn.

Kate knew that it was only a matter of time before someone did come looking for Mack, and she was suspicious because he wasn't more adamant in convincing her to leave. It crossed her mind that he was up to something, but she didn't know what.

True to his word, Mack had a cheery fire crackling in the fireplace to warm the cool mountain air, and he was adding more logs to the fire as she finished washing the dishes.

"Sit and enjoy the fire with me, Kate. I'll do the dishes later."

"Oh, sure, now you volunteer," she said with just the right amount of sarcasm and humor. "Considering that I'm almost done."

He grinned, no doubt content in the knowledge that she'd reacted to his transparent offer in just the way he had expected.

There was a lot about John Mackowitz that she liked. He was a terrific cop. He was a good friend to his partner whom he called to check on every day. And he made her laugh.

Kate chuckled again when she thought about the two tripping incidents. She was flattered that she'd distracted him.

Mack smiled broadly, raised his eyebrows and patted the plaid cushion next to him. Kate knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too.

"You're so subtle, aren't you?" Kate asked.

"Subtle. That's my middle name."

They sat on the couch and made small talk, punctuated with kisses that grew deeper and longer. Soon, the talking stopped, but the kisses didn't.

Mack stood and held out his hand. "I have a fire going in the bedroom, too."

It seemed natural to put her hand in his hand, to follow him.

The comforter was turned down, the bed was inviting. So were Mack's eyes.

"There'll be no going back, Kate."

"I know."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I'm more than okay with that."

His deep blue eyes met hers. "I've thought about this moment for years." His voice was low and rich with sensuality and promise. "Undress for me, Kate."

Slowly, she took off her clothes and felt delightfully wicked under Mack's hooded gaze.

Without taking her eyes from his, Kate slipped in between the sheets, sat up and propped the pillows behind her back, not bothering to cover her breasts. "Your turn."

As he stripped, she thought of how he was a study in male power and strength. The glow of the fire, the only light in the room, illuminated the hardness of his body, his wide chest, his muscular thighs. He stood with feet apart, and Kate thought he looked like a pagan warrior from another time.

A pagan warrior from the past with a very modern electronic monitoring device strapped to his ankle.

"Stay where you are, Mack. Don't move." Kate got up, looked through her purse, and found what she needed. Slowly, she walked toward Mack, carrying a pair of scissors like a wedding bouquet.

Mack looked down at himself, then at the scissors, then down again. "Gee, Kate, if I knew it meant so much to you, I would have done the dishes."

Chuckling, she knelt before him, and before he could say another word, she cut the ankle bracelet off.

He helped her stand, keeping her at arm’s length, and staring into her eyes. "Kate, your program."

She cupped his face in her palms. "You mean much more to me, John. Much more. And I realize it now."

Mack scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He lied down next to her and gathered her close. "It seems like a lifetime," he whispered, scattering kisses on her neck, on her breasts. "Maybe we ought to skip this and rehearse more tactical plans."

"Let's not.” Kate reached down and held him gently. He grew even longer and pulsed in her hand. “I know the plan.”

“Thanks for finally trusting me. I couldn’t wait to get rid of that ankle bracelet.”

That did it! Reality check! She got rid of the electronic monitor, but he was still her client. And professionals do not make love with their clients.

"What did I say?" he asked. "What the hell did I say?"

"You said 'electronic monitor' which reminded me that you are still my client."

He nuzzled her ear. "The hell with that. Forget it."

"I-I can't. I want to make love with you, but I just can't." She tore herself away from him. "I'm sorry, Mack."

"Don't be. I guess I understand. And I've waited this long for you, Katherine Kingston, I can wait a little longer."

"Thanks for understanding." She kissed him on the cheek, rolled over, and screamed into her pillow.

#

Mack lied in bed, frustrated with Kate lying naked next to him.

He was still as hard as a rock, thinking about her. Thinking of what could have been.

The ticking of the moose clock on the wall reminded him that if he figured right, his visitor should arrive in less than a half-hour. He wanted to be ready.

Mack figured that the awards dinner would end about midnight, but everyone would stay and drink at the bar until two in the morning. It was tradition. Captain Crowley would have been promoted to chief about eight o'clock, so he'd be the one buying. If he left around two, he'd get here about five in the morning.

It was now four-thirty in the morning.

Yep, Mack figured that this morning would be when Crowley would strike. Nash would have told him, if he was in on it, too. Or Crowley would have traced Kate's car up here.

It tore at his gut to think that Nash might be in on it as well. They weren't exactly close throughout the later years, but they did have a history. They were Roosters.

He couldn’t believe that Marty Crowley, his mentor, his idol, the man responsible for changing the course of Mack’s life, had turned dirty.

Thinking that Crowley wanted to kill him, that he was into drug dealing, that he blew up Mack’s house and might have shot Tom Murray, twisted his gut.

Quietly, so he wouldn't awaken Kate, Mack got up and picked up his jeans from the floor. Shrugging into them, he put his gun in the usual place at the small of his back.

Shirtless and bare-footed, Mack snatched up Kate's purse from the chair. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her, but he restrained himself and crept out of the bedroom into the main part of the cabin. He tipped her purse to the light of the glowing embers in the fireplace, and took out the keys to her Blazer.

He wanted to lead Crowley, or Crowley and Nash, away from Kate.

Laying her purse on the table, he noticed all the scattered paper where he had diagrammed different points of entry and escape as well as tactical and defensive plans. He smiled as he remembered how diligent she was, absorbing his every word. But he had just humored her. There'd be no way he'd ever let her help him when they came looking for him. He wanted her safe.

And when she found out that he never had any intention of accepting assistance from her, she'd be furious.

And if he wasn't dead already, she'd kill him! After all, she was a five-time range champ.

Picking up a pen, he found a clean sheet of paper and scribbled one word: Sorry.

Positioning the paper on the table, Mack grabbed his sneakers, walked outside into the blackness, and locked the door behind him.

Before he could turn around, cold steel pressed against his temple, "Don't even breathe, Mack."

"Hell, what took you so long, Captain?"

Crowley pat him down and took the gun from his waistband.

"Call me Chief now," he growled. "Get in the car."

"Is that an order, Chief?" Mack raised his hands and slowly turned. "I seem to be a civilian these days, so I don't have to follow your orders."

"Don't play cute with me."

He pursed his lips and made a kissing noise. "I'll try my best."