Bobby.
It worked. Almost instantly his head filled with the memory of the kiss heâd shared with Marissa. As he remembered the sweet taste of her lips, the feel of her breasts against his chest, the heat of the sun overhead seemed to intensify.
Heâd known instinctively that kissing her would be pleasant. What he hadnât expected was the raw passion, the overwhelming desire that had devoured him as heâd held her in his arms.
Surely his desire for her came solely from the fact that it had been a long time since heâd been with a woman. Surely it had nothing to do with the bewitching freckles that danced across her nose and her eyes that invited a man to drown in them.
His desire for her couldnât be because she possessed a wit that rivaled his own and made him laugh as he couldnât remember laughing in a long time. It couldnât be because that humor was quickly replaced by the ferocity of a lion where her son was concerned.
He missed them. Theyâd been gone from hishouse only an hour, but he felt their absence. Theyâd swept into his life, bringing chaos and laughter, and now they were gone.
He opened his eyes and once again stared at the breaking waves. It was good that they were gone. He didnât need a freckle-faced Pollyanna and her killer kid around.
The afternoon and early-evening hours crept by slowly. Jack made a couple of phone calls, putting off the cases he could until he was more mobile.
He received a phone call telling him that Samuel Jacobson had agreed to pay all back child support to his wife and that the transfer of funds had already been accomplished.
Jack ate leftover Chinese food for supper, then sat on the sofa and turned on the television, unable to stand the pressing silence of the house any longer.
After watching two sitcoms, he realized why he rarely watched television. The sitcoms were stupid and the canned laughter irritated him.
He turned off the set and once again the silence settled around him. Why did it bother him so much now when it never had before? He didnât even want to think of what the answer might be.
He finally gave up and went to bed, falling instantly into a restless sleep. He slept late the next morning and was seated at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when a knock resounded at his door.
Eagerly Jack struggled to his feet. She must have thought of some reason to come back. He flung openthe door, knowing he wore an expectant smile. Instead of Marissa and Nathaniel, Maria stood at his door.
The disappointment that shot through him irritated him. âWhat are you doing here?â he snapped. âI figured by now you would have taken your bingo winnings and left the country.â He stepped aside to allow her entry.
âI would never leave the country without making sure you were taken care of first,â Maria protested.
Jack raised an eyebrow in disbelief. âYeah, right. How much did you lose?â
Maria walked into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee and sank down at the table, her dark eyes snapping with petulance. âI was just going to play five cards, but my sister said for me to play ten. She kept telling me I was going to win. âBefore the night is over, youâll be a big winner.ââ She snorted and whirled a hand through her gray hair. âMy sister, the psychic. More like my sister, the psycho.â
Despite his former foul mood, Jack laughed and sat in the chair across from her.
She sat back, as if surprised by his burst of laughter. âNow, thatâs a rare sound in this house.â She snapped her eyes closed. âIâm getting a vision.â
âI thought your sister was the psycho,â Jack replied dryly.
She cracked open an eyelid. âIt runs in our family. Anywayâ¦I have a vision of a woman with shortblond hair and long legs. She has a little boyâ¦a little blond boy with dancing blue eyes. I think they have brought laughter
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham