Kristen Ashley - Law Man

Then I thought about the last week and how I wasn’t exactly certain what help Mitch was offering but I’d be as stupid as my mother if I didn’t accept it because, Lord knew, I needed it. What was more, the kids liked Mitch and Billy had, for one shining moment, a decent man in his life and I took him away. I couldn’t do that again. If I did because I was (Mitch was right) shit-scared of what I felt about Mitch, that didn’t say much about me nor my ability to do what was right for those kids.

I decided against thinking about the kiss. That I was never going to do and that was never going to happen again.

I focused on Mitch. “I need to go to sleep.”

“Mara –”

“But,” I cut him off, “we’ll talk tomorrow about how you’re willing to help.”

“You sayin’ you need me?”

“I’m saying the kids like you, Billy needs you and if you’re willing to help, I could use it.”

His grin got bigger. “You’re sayin’ you need me.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. “Can I go to bed now?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he agreed but didn’t let me go.

I waited.

“Are you going to let me go?” I asked when his not letting me go lasted a long time.

“Yeah, after you give me a goodnight kiss,” Mitch answered.

“No. No more kissing. We’ll be talking about that tomorrow too.”

“Bet that’ll be good,” he muttered, still, I might add, freaking grinning!

“Hello? Detective Mitch Lawson?” I called. “Do you want to let me go?”

His eyes got dark. I liked the way they got dark and liked it so much I lost focus and since I was paying attention to his eyes getting dark I missed his lips getting closer. At the last minute I pulled back, my head hit the door and his lips brushed mine.

He didn’t move his mouth when he murmured, “’Night, Mara.”

“Goodnight, Mitch,” I murmured back, my breath starting to come hard and my heart beating harder.

He smiled against my lips.

Then he let me go.

I heard distant noises like the murmurs of a man’s deep, attractive voice, a young boy’s not deep voice, a young girl’s definitely not deep voice and a television set.

I opened my eyes, looked at my alarm clock and saw it was nearly nine.

I blinked.

Holy crap! What happened to my alarm?

I threw the covers back, got out of bed, ran to the back of the bathroom door, grabbed my robe, pulled it on over my short nightgown and dashed to the closed bedroom door. Then I dashed back to the bathroom, grabbed a ponytail holder out of a pretty, pink glass bowl on the shelves over the toilet that held my admittedly obsessive collection of every color of ponytail holder known to man. Then I dashed out of my room, my hands securing my hair in a messy knot at the top back of my head.

I hit the living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining-area to see a box half full of donuts on the coffee table, empty milk glasses not on coasters, cartoons on the TV. Billy was sprawled in my armchair and Billie sprawled mostly on Mitch who was sprawled on my couch.

All eyes came to me.

“Auntie Mara! Mitch took us out and bought us donuts!” Billie cried but didn’t move from her place sprawled on Mitch.

I knew this because I saw the donuts and I also knew it because she had sticky-looking chocolate frosting coating her mouth.

“I can see that, baby,” I told her and my eyes slid to Mitch whereupon I engaged my retinal laser beam to target Mitch who was not supposed to be sprawled on my couch eating donuts with the kids before nine o’clock. In fact, he was not supposed to be in my house at all until eleven o’clock. Unfortunately, my retinal laser beam malfunctioned and Mitch wasn’t incinerated.

“He let us get the ones we wanted,” Billy informed me and I looked at him to see he had powdered sugar down the front of the new tee he was wearing.

“Did you thank him?” I asked.

Billie’s head jerked to Mitch, she lifted a hand and slapped his chest, shouting in his face, “Thank you, Mitch!”

“Yeah, thanks, Mitch,” Billy echoed obediently.

I stood there, not knowing what to do and of all the options sifting through my mind, I decided the priority was Billie’s chocolate-ringed lips. So I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a paper towel, wetted it and walked to Billie and Mitch on the couch. I executed a knees-closed squat beside them, grabbed her jaw in my hand and wiped.

“You’ve got frosting all over you, honey,” I muttered as I wiped.

“I know,” she told me, her lips quirking into a wonky smile even as I wiped. “I was savin’ it for later.”

I finished with the frosting and my eyes hit hers. “How many donuts have you had?”

“A gazillion!” she declared.

“Right,” I muttered. “How many donuts have you really had?”

She lifted her hand, I let her jaw go and saw she held up three fingers.

See? Kids totally ate more than their fair share of food. How little Billie’s stomach could house three donuts was a mystery.

Her wonky smile was still fixed in place. I returned it, grabbed her jaw again, tugged her face to me as I leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then I let her go.

“I get some of that?” Mitch’s deep voice rumbled at me and my eyes went to him.

“You don’t have any frosting on your lips,” I informed him, his eyes smiled, I felt his eye smile throughout my body and I decided my next move was escape.

This was thwarted after I straightened when Mitch’s warm, strong fingers wrapped around the back of my knee.

I stopped, sucked in breath and looked down at him.

“You sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. I own the Spring Deluxe,” I answered, feeling his fingers burning white hot into the skin behind my knee.

At my answer, his eye smile went full facial and a whoosh slid through my belly.

Then I asked, “Did the kids let you in?”

“No. Found your extra key and nabbed it.”

I flipped the switch on my retinal laser beam repeatedly hoping it would engage. No go.

Then I asked in an unhappy voice, “You helped yourself to my extra key?”

“You said make myself at home.”

I clenched my teeth.

Then I stated, “That wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

Mitch made no response and Billie, who had been looking back and forth between us as we talked, look back at me expectantly.

It was then something occurred to me so I asked, “Do you, by chance, know why my alarm clock didn’t go off?”

“Could be because I turned it off,” he answered.

My body went solid at this knowledge. I studied him trying to decide how I felt about him coming into my house and then into my bedroom while I was sleeping to turn off my alarm clock. Then I tried to decide how I felt about him getting the kids dressed and taking off with them to get donuts. Then I tried to decide how I felt about him hanging out with the kids and their donuts while I slept in.

He held my gaze while I came to a decision. And my decision was, I didn’t like it much.

“Perhaps we need to have a chat in the breezeway,” I suggested and Mitch burst out laughing. For some reason, Billie did too. I yanked my leg from his hold and stepped out of reach. “Seriously, Mitch, we need to chat,” I pushed.

Mitch was still smiling huge when he stated, “Happy to chat with you, sweetheart, but there’s no way we’re doing it in the breezeway.”

“Fine,” I snapped, whirled and marched to my bedroom.

It wasn’t a great option but it was the only option. The kids’ room was their room and I wanted them to think of it that way. The bathroom in the hall was too small. So my bedroom was my only choice.

By the time I dumped the paper towel in my bathroom bin and Mitch made it to my room, I was in the bedroom. I had my arms crossed on my chest, a foot out and my mind focused on not tapping my toe mostly because if my mind focused on anything else, I might be moved to acts of violence.

Mitch closed my door and then leaned against it, crossing his arms on his chest, his eyes moving the length of me.

“Cute nightie,” he muttered, my head shot down and my hands moved immediately to close my robe over my little, cream, stretchy-cotton nightie with the tiny pink flowers on it.

I tied the robe tight, rethinking my actions of rushing out of my room in a tizzy before donning seven layers. Then I crossed my arms on my chest again and leveled my gaze on Mitch.

I opened my mouth to speak. Then I closed it. Then I opened it again. Then I closed it.

Then I said, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“How ‘bout you begin by comin’ here and givin’ me a good morning kiss?” Mitch suggested.

I felt my eyes narrow.

Then I announced, “I know where to begin.”

His lips twitched before he invited, “Have at it.”

“First, we use coasters in the Mara Hanover household,” I declared.

Another lip twitch from Mitch then, “So noted.”

“Second,” I continued, “we have boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” Mitch repeated.

“Yes, boundaries,” I replied on a nod of my head. “Such as, we’re in here because Billy and Billie’s room is their room and I want them to feel that’s their space.”

“All right,” Mitch agreed.

“Another example would be this,” I threw out a hand, “is my space and when I’m in here alone, sleeping, no one is allowed to come in here and, say, turn off my alarm clock.”

“Is anyone, say, me, allowed to come in here when you aren’t sleeping? Say, when you’re awake, in that cute nightie, you lose the robe and you personally show me the exceptional qualities of the Spring Deluxe?”