Michael back to San Francisco just yet.”
“He should be okay if you don’t take him back to your place where Granny Del was murdered.”
“A-and you’ll be with us?”
He planted his hands on the table and leaned forward. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
LATER THAT EVENING, KIERAN watched Devon put the finishing touches on the root beer floats as Michael jabbed his fingers into the vanilla ice cream. That was normal behavior for a four-year-old boy, right?
Michael seemed a lot less tense now than he did when Kieran had first plucked him off those rocks a few days ago. He shifted his gaze back to the baseball game where the camera panned the crowd, zeroing in on a father and son. They mugged for the camera and the dad tugged at the boy’s Giants baseball cap.
The man made it seem so effortless…this being-a-father business. Kieran wanted lessons, a playbook, a different life. What did that man on the TV screen know of brutality, of torture, of survival? And why couldn’t Kieran erase
A small hand tapped his shoulder. “Root beer floats.”
“Thanks, Michael.” He tugged on his ear. “I hope you put a lot of ice cream in there.”
“With my own two hands.” Michael splayed a pair of freshly scrubbed hands in front of him.
“Mmm.” Kieran raised his brows at Devon.
“Trust me. He used an ice cream scooper.”
Kieran gripped the handle of the frosty mug and tipped the root beer into his mouth through the sweet foam. “Perfect.”
They slurped through their desserts, and Kieran collected the empty mugs and brought them to the kitchen sink. He rinsed the mugs and squirted a stream of yellow dishwashing liquid into the warm water to wash the remaining pans from dinner. He called over his shoulder. “Are we going to spend the night in the city or go up and back in one day?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. We’re not going to stay at my apartment. Maybe we should get a hotel room…or two, so we have a home base in case Detective Marquette keeps us waiting.”
“When you called him back, did he give you a specific time?”
“He said around two o’clock, but he’s in court that day and isn’t sure he’ll be finished by then.”
“We can always take a long, late lunch if he isn’t.”
“Let’s play it by ear.”
He grabbed a dish towel and wiped his hands. When he turned toward the living room, he tripped to a stop. He took a deep breath and sauntered toward Michael’s stiff frame, facing away from the TV.
When Kieran had gone into the kitchen, Michael had been watching the game, sitting cross-legged with his knees bouncing. Now he’d drawn up his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.
Kieran shot a glance at Devon, who shrugged, lines of worry creasing her forehead.
Kieran plopped on the floor next to Michael. “Do you want to watch the rest of the game?”
Michael burrowed his chin into his knees.
“Someday I’ll take you to see a live baseball game in San Francisco. Would you like that?”
Michael pulled his arms up to his knees, hiding his face.
Kieran’s hand hovered at the back of Michael’s head. Should he touch him? Leave him alone? What would the dad at the baseball game do?
Kieran dropped his hand. “If you’re worried about going back home tomorrow, it’s okay. It’s okay to be worried, but we’re not going to your apartment and I’ll be with you.”
Michael rocked back and forth, and Devon jumped up from the couch. “We’ll be at the police station most of the time, Michael. It’ll be fine, and we can have lunch on Fisherman’s Wharf.”
She ruffled Michael’s hair as she wrinkled her nose at Kieran. “Time for bed.”
Kieran went with her to tuck Michael in, but any progress they’d made in the past few days had evaporated. Michael had withdrawn, his voice silent once again.
Kieran listened to the story Devon read aloud, and he contributed sound effects and silly comments but Michael wasn’t biting.
Once Michael dozed off, they retreated to the living room.
Devon collapsed on the couch and curled her legs beneath her. “Ugh. Maybe we should’ve discussed the trip privately and then just sprung it on him tomorrow in the car.”
“I don’t think that would’ve been a good idea. In fact, I mishandled it completely by mentioning the trip in the kitchen. He’s a bright kid. Why wouldn’t he pick up on what I was saying? We should’ve told him first.”
“Okay, don’t beat yourself up. Sometimes it’s not easy to figure out the best way to go. If we had sat down with him and told him we were going back to San Francisco, maybe that would have signaled to him that we were worried about it. By discussing it casually, he might approach it casually.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Parents can’t know everything.” She bit her lip as she sent a worried look at the hallway. “I’m sure he’ll be fine tomorrow.”
They switched from the game to a movie, and Kieran traced the edge of the sleeping pill bottle in his pocket with the tip of his finger. A couple of those and he’d be knocked out for the night-no nightmares, no memories, no sleepwalking. No Devon.
She curled up beside him on the couch, her head propped up on the arm and her toes inches from his thigh. Her smooth calves curved up from slender ankles.
His fingers inched toward her skin for just a small taste. He ran the pad of his thumb along her silky flesh and her leg twitched. He circled a spot around a light freckle and her toes curled into his thigh.
Encircling her ankles with his fingers, he drew her feet onto his lap. “You can stretch out.”
She sighed and wiggled her toes. Her hair fanned out across her chest, and he swore he could see the golden strands tremble with each beat of her heart.
His own heart thudded against his ribcage. When she dug her heels into the inside of his thigh, a rush of potent desire flooded his senses.
He cupped the heel of her foot in his hand and raised it to his lips. He pressed a kiss against the bone on the top of her foot, and she sucked in a breath.
Her other foot crept close to his crotch where she tucked it between his legs. He gritted his teeth to suppress the groan that had clawed its way up from his gut. When the wave of need subsided into a dull ache, he pulled in a breath between clenched teeth. “You have very talented feet.”
Something between a snort and a giggle bubbled from her lips and she wiggled the foot he still held captive. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. There’s magic in these toes.”
He took her big toe between his teeth. “I’d prefer it if you used other parts of your anatomy.”
“And I’d prefer it if you used other parts of yours.” Her gaze dropped to his lap where his erection was straining against the fly of his shorts.
He took one of her legs and tucked it on his left side and then rolled to his stomach, facing her on the couch. She needed no encouragement. She wrapped both of her legs around his waist and he lowered his body to press against hers.
The smell of her engulfed him, wildflowers and sunshine and musky woman, drawing him into an orbit of heady passion. A place where the mind didn’t matter, where the heightened sensitivities of the body held sway.
He took possession of her lips. He plundered her mouth like a man too long without water, without nectar, without sustenance. His pelvis grinded against hers, seeking a release for his body that he had to hold in check.
She arched against him, slipping a hand between their sealed bodies to unbutton her blouse. When it gaped open, Kieran ran his tongue down her throat to the sweet spot between her breasts. He slipped one hand inside her bra and caressed her while he circled his thumb around her nipple, bringing it to a ripe peak.
Bending his head, he replaced his thumb with the tip of his tongue, teasing her until she cried out.
She reached for his fly and yanked at the buttons, almost ripping them from his shorts. She flattened her hands
