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  “Thank you, kind sir.” She forced herself to curtsy as she played along, the small exchange reminding her of the dorkiness and quaint familiarity they used to have.

  “And it is plain, just as you like it—thick crust and extra cheesy.” He pulled out a chair at the island and helped her to sit before sitting next to her.

  He remembered. The thought made some of the heaviness in her chest lift. He had made his mistakes and she had made hers, but there was such deep love between them. No matter what, they would always share an inexplicable bond; one filled with the nuances that came with familiarity and time.

  This man still loved her, though it would never be the same love he had once felt for her—or the love she had once felt for him. They had now entered the world of love reserved only for those with the most broken of hearts.

  He opened the box, the greasy scent of dough and butter filling the air and, doing so, making her stomach pang. She chuckled at the thought of how funny it was that others could sense things in her that she denied noticing in herself. Or maybe it was just that what she was really hungry for was the act of caring, a hunger Mike had filled, even without her so much as asking.

  Mike was a good man.

  She took a bite of the pizza as he made his way to the fridge and looked inside. It was exactly as she had remembered it, empty except for a few old beers, a bottle of mustard and some banana baby food she had forgotten to use up. He grabbed one of the beers, twisted off the cap and handed it over to her.

  “No, I don’t think I should.” Summer shook her head slightly. In truth, she wanted the beer and the relaxation that it whispered of, but what if someone called about Joe?

  She looked over at the clock. He should have been in bed right now.

  Had they changed his diaper? Given him a bath?

  At night, he loved to be rocked to sleep after a warm bottle. If they didn’t do it, Joe would pitch a fit and, once he got started, and if he was overly tired, there was little anyone could do to calm him except to let him cry it out until he wore himself down and went to sleep on his own.

  Anxiety pierced through her. What if they weren’t taking care of him at all? What if Joe was alone, unchanged and unfed?

  Her breathing started to quicken as all the fears she held for Joe’s safety filled her mind.

  This wasn’t going to be okay. Nothing was going to be okay. Things would never get back to where they had once been. And what was she doing about it all? Eating pizza. She was the worst mother ever.

  “He is going to be okay, Summer.” Mike spoke as though he could read her mind, or maybe it was that all of her thoughts were streaming on her face like it was a wide-screen television.

  “How do you know, Mike? What if—”

  “Stop. Don’t swirl the drain of what-ifs. It does you and Joe no good.”

  He was right, but she hated to admit it. Without the what-ifs, she was left with only the reality of the situation—her son was in the hands of potential killers.

  She took the beer Mike offered and took a sip.

  “This is all going to be okay. We will get him back and they will take good care of him. A baby has a way of making everyone around them love them. I mean look at me,” Mike said, sending her a wilting smile. “I love him. I loved him the moment you told me about him. That’s all it took. And when I saw him, man...put a fork in me.”

  She smiled. “He is a handsome boy. And when he laughs, he laughs with his whole body in a way that makes you laugh too. I never thought I could love something as much as I love him.”

  “See what I mean? No one can walk by that boy and not fall for him. He is going to be safe if these men are at all partial to his charms; which, after our conversation with them, I think they are.”

  “We will see if they say the same thing in the morning; after he keeps them up all night. He likes to fall asleep with me, in my bed.” Her eyes welled up with tears as she thought about the week after she had brought Joe home from the hospital. How hard she had tried to follow the rules she had read in the parenting books, chapters of which discussed the pitfalls of co-sleeping. In the end, instinct had taken over and she had given in to the needs of her baby over the opinions of a few.

  Snuggling with Joe had become one of her favorite moments in her life. It was an incredible feeling to fall asleep with a baby, flesh of her flesh and bone of her bone. This little being who trusted her so much.

  She had let him down.

  Taking a long pull off the bottle, she thought about her mistakes. There had been so many in her life already, so many wounds, bruises, scrapes and scabs. It was really no wonder no one made it out alive.

  “Mike, what did I do wrong with us? How did I push you away?” She put her beer down on the counter and started to play with the paper ring around the bottle’s neck, pulling at the corners like behind it were the answers to life’s questions.

  He reached over and took her hand, interlacing their fingers. “Summer. Babe.” He spoke the word like it was even more tender than his touch. “My problems that day... They really had nothing to do with you.”

  “Ah,” she said with a forced laugh, hoping to diffuse some of the tension, “the old ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t you. It was me. I saw the future. I’d overheard Troy talking about a threat STEALTH had neutralized. A threat to us. To you. And I thought, I can’t do this. I couldn’t live a life with you, knowing I put you in danger. It was the hardest thing I ever did, walking away from that altar.”

  “You never told me...”

  “I didn’t think you would understand. You would have told me to push aside my fears and just follow through with the wedding. But I couldn’t... I couldn’t risk having you hurt or killed because of me.”

  He was right. She would have tried to convince him not to leave. But it wasn’t him. It was her. What she had needed was a real, concrete answer...an aspect she could change in herself that would help her become stronger, better, and then never find herself in the same position again—and especially not with him.

  “Do you think you will ever want to get married again?” he asked.

  “To you?” She jerked, stunned by his question.

  He let out a tight, surprised laugh. “Sure, or to whomever you love. Man, woman, alien...” he teased.

  He had said “sure.” Did that mean he was thinking about them becoming an us again? Could she handle something like that? Could she trust him with her heart after all the pain, confusion and misery he had put her through the last time?

  If she said no, would she be doing a disservice to Joe? Probably. But if she said yes, would she be doing a disservice to herself?

  “I don’t know,” she said, striking down the middle. This was one question better unanswered. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it too much. I’ve been really busy for the last year or so.” She sent him a smile to let him know that her words weren’t meant as some kind of jab, but rather a truth masked in cotton. “And I’ve loved every second of it,” she added.

  “After we get Joe back, do you think I can get involved? I mean maybe we can figure out some sort of parenting plan or something. I don’t want to step on your toes, but I can’t imagine knowing that I have him and yet not having time with him. You know?” He looked slightly stricken at the thought.

  Was his question about marriage directly related to his concern for being or not being in Joe’s life? “If I get married, don’t worry. You will always have a place. You are Joe’s dad, and I want to give you every opportunity to be a part of his life as much or as little as you want. I will never stand in your way.”

  Even if they weren’t destined to be together as a married couple, it didn’t mean they weren’t supposed to be together as parents. Raising Joe would require a collaborative effort and they would both have to give a littl
e to make things work, but she was willing to do the work if he was.

  “I just want what is best for Joe,” he said.

  “I agree. But I also think you coming and going in Joe’s life will be hard.” She paused. “So, if you are going to be in and out of his life when it’s convenient for you, it’s not going to be good for him. Before you commit to anything, I want you to really think about your options. With this, you are either all in or all out. No in-betweens.”

  He squeezed her hand as he listened, like he was already agreeing to her terms.

  “Mike, this isn’t going to be easy. I don’t think you can possibly understand how hard parenting is going to be.”

  He smiled softly at her. “You know, I have always found the things in my life most worth having are never easy. Far from it.” He moved her closer to him and lifted her hand to his mouth, softly kissing the back of her knuckles. “Those things that I have to struggle to attain are what I respect, love and cherish the most.”

  Ummmm... What? Did he just tell me that he loved me? That he cherished me? I didn’t even know he knew that word. What in the hell?

  She couldn’t read too much into his words or his actions. Nope. This had to be one of those times her imagination was playing tricks on her. Mike was the silent type. The type who rarely spoke the truths that lay in his heart. Then again, since they had reconnected, he had been more candid with her than he had been in nearly their entire previous relationship. Had he changed? Had he realized their communication was one aspect of their relationship that had been lacking, by both of them?

  “Mike...” She said his name, the sound barely above a whisper. It instantly took her back to the many nights they had spent making love until they were exhausted and only sated when they found themselves engulfed in one another’s arms.

  Was that where this was headed? Was he making his move? Was he hoping she would take him to the bedroom? That they would make love?

  She panicked and yet she didn’t pull her hand away from his; she needed his touch. Tonight, of all nights, she wanted the support and love his being there provided. And, well, she wanted all of it, and him.

  He helped her to stand and she took the lead, walking him slowly toward her bedroom. He had to have known what was coming next, just as much as she did, but he didn’t seem to hesitate, though he also wasn’t taking the lead. She liked that. He had normally always been the one to be the commander in the bedroom, taking what he wanted from her and leaving her so well pleased that she would collapse into a comatose-like sleep. Yet now he seemed almost passive, demure, in his want of her.

  Or maybe he didn’t want her?

  No. She couldn’t think about that—about being rejected by him for a second time, albeit maybe in a slightly less painful way.

  Though, come to think of it, which was worse—having a heart or a body turned away?

  Either way, it hurt.

  She stopped outside her bedroom door. Questioning the step they were both about to take. “Mike—”

  He stopped her by taking her lips with his, unexpectedly hurried but tender as he stole her words.

  His tongue found the center of the bottom of her lip and she met him there. He pulled her close against his body and her hands moved down his sides. She could feel the bulge of his muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt. He still worked out. So many push-ups.

  She grew weak at the knees, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of his kiss or his body pressed against hers. It had been so long since she had been properly made love to.

  Ben had been great, but he was nowhere near as good or as attentive as Mike had been to her when it came to between-the-sheets time.

  She needed to feel Mike inside her, making love to her in the way only he could.

  If they just had tonight and then things went back to the way they were, then fine. Whatever. But at least tonight they could forget about the reality that surrounded them, pushing in from all sides, and they could both just concentrate on the pleasure they could bring to one another.

  For tonight, he could be hers and she could be his.

  She melted into his kiss, letting him consume her soul as he took her lips. That feeling...that feeling of deep carnal bliss, oh...how she had missed that.

  As he kissed her, it was easy to remember why and how easily she had first fallen in love with this man. There was nothing as good or as satisfying as what he was making her feel right now.

  She moaned and he opened his mouth slightly, letting her breath fill him as she hoped that he wanted to fill her.

  “I want you.” She slid her hands up, running her fingers through his thick hair and pulling his mouth hard against hers as he took in her words.

  She moved them toward her bed, pushing away a box that was in the center of the room with her foot but still not breaking their kiss.

  It had been so long since she had felt this way in his arms. And even in her wildest fantasies, she had never thought she would be back falling into bed with him.

  He broke away. “You know I want you. This.” He pressed himself against her. “You do things to my body...” He growled. “But I want to take care of you. And the last thing I want to do is screw up whatever is starting between us.”

  Logically, everything he was saying was sweet and thoughtful. She could even argue he was right, but it didn’t staunch the way she felt or the need she had to feel him.

  “Let’s just see where tonight takes us.” She tried to sound sultry, unconcerned, and far from the woman she really was—the mother who had a million worries on her mind.

  Right now, all she wanted to do was to run away from the truths of her reality with a man who had often taken center stage in her dreams.

  Mike looked up at the ceiling, like the answers he was looking for were posted there. He should have known by now that when it came to their relationship—or whatever it was they were trying for here—there were no easy answers. They were both only left with questions.

  He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. “Here, lie down.”

  Yes.

  She did as he instructed, letting go of his hand as she scooted over to the other side of the bed—the side that had always been hers when they had been together.

  He smiled as though he was thinking about the same things. He got into bed behind her and perched on his elbow as he looked at her. “Now, roll over.”

  She frowned at him, but he made a spinning motion with his hand.

  “For now, I’m only going to rub your back. You need to get some rest. If this...this step in our relationship is something that you seriously want, it can wait. I am not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d always had a special place in his heart for Summer, but damn if this woman wasn’t going to kill him—she could be hard on a man. All he had wanted to do was to throw her down on that bed and make love to her until the morning sun broke into their reality. But those kinds of decisions led to ramifications he wasn’t sure either of them was ready to face.

  She was confused right now, hurting. As was he. But he hadn’t been about to take advantage of her vulnerability, even if she had initiated the physical closeness, so he’d rubbed her back until she’d dozed off last night and then slept on the sofa. Or tried to. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, waiting for a call from the kidnappers. And he’d risen early to head out for breakfast, so she wouldn’t have to make it or fret about not having much to offer.

  Yes, he would have loved to have had a relationship with her, but if something went wrong—as things so often did in life, especially when she still had a chip on her shoulder about their past—he couldn’t risk losing what he was hoping to have.

  Wait. What was he hoping for, really?

  He had told her all he wanted was for a functional, even good, parenting arrangement between them. But was
that all he wanted? If they could go back to where they were and things went toward marriage again, he wasn’t sure how he would react.

  After last night and him putting a pin in her advances, he couldn’t help but wonder if Summer would see his actions as just another rejection. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. But she had to know that when it came to matters of the heart, he was a man who had to take things slowly. Sex was easy. Love was incredibly hard. And he had an awful habit of having sex turn into love and a need for a relationship.

  They both couldn’t give a relationship the attention it needed. Joe had to come first. Finding him had to come first. And God forbid something worse actually happened to Joe—and things didn’t turn out like he wanted them to and he didn’t make it out of this alive—they would never get over it. She would hate him. No. Before anything happened between them, he needed to get Joe back into the safety of their care.

  Then they could worry about the rest of whatever was happening between them.

  He walked into her apartment, carrying two cups of coffee and croissants. Hopefully she was awake. If not, he didn’t want to rouse her. She needed some reprieve, but they also needed to be ready to hit the road. The kidnappers could call anytime now. And they needed to come up with something that would help stall them until they could be found and they could get Joe.

  As he rounded the corner, he found her sitting at the kitchen island bent over her phone and scribbling on a notepad. “Hey. Where were you? I didn’t think you were coming back,” she said, her words coming out in a flurry of syllables surprisingly devoid of anger.

  And there he had been, worried about his rebuff and her feeling rejected.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I borrowed your car. I just wanted to get us some food and you are woefully lacking in the pantry department.” He set the bag on the counter in front of her and she dug in, taking a sip of coffee and opening the wrapper without even looking up at him. She started to scribble again, but he couldn’t read what she was writing. “What are you working on?”