Public Displays of Affection

“Ah.”

  “Had to be sure.”

  Joe’s smile widened. “Thank you for looking out for them since Kurt died. I appreciate that more than I can say.”

  That was an unexpectedly possessive response, and Ned squirmed a little in his plastic patio chair. In Joe’s voice—and in his words—had been an implication Ned couldn’t quite pin down. It almost felt like Joe was giving him his pink slip, like he’d be taking over with the Taskers from now on.

  “Is that so, Joe?”

  The federal agent picked at the label of his beer bottle, staring at his moving fingers for a long time before he raised his gaze to Ned again.

  “I met Charlotte thirteen years ago, and I’ve loved her ever since. I looked for her—you have no idea how I tried to find her.”

  “No shit?”

  “It was pure luck—or fate if you believe in that kind of stuff—that I ended up here.”

  Ned leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his belly. He had a feeling this was going to be a good one.

  “And exactly why are you here?”

  “I’m hiding. A fairly nasty drug dealer has a million-dollar reward out for my head—which I’ve kind of grown attached to over the years.”

  Though fascinated, Ned heard himself let go with a loud laugh. “Whoa. A million big ones for that ugly mug?”

  Joe gave him a short-lived grin, then sighed. “When our cover was blown a couple of months ago, he killed my partner and his wife and little boy. We don’t believe the man is joking.”

  Ned felt his body go numb. Good God—this kind of bad shit was a little out of his league and he knew it. He kept his mouth shut and nodded for Joe to continue.

  “I’m the U.S. attorney’s star witness in the case against this man—his name is Miguel Guzman. My supervisor sent me here so I could stay alive until the trial.”

  “Fuck-in’ A. When’s that gonna be?”

  “God only knows. Maybe a couple years.”

  Ned shook his head and straightened, leaning across the table so they could whisper. If ever there was a conversation the rest of Minton, Ohio, didn’t need to hear, this was it.

  “Are you safe here, do you think?”

  Joe shrugged. “I think I get safer every day that goes by. The Administration believes the risk is minimal for me here, even though a civilian employee from our field office was murdered just last week.”

  “Hell! In Albuquerque?”

  Joe smiled sadly. “Right again.”

  “Does Charlotte know any of this?”

  Joe’s mouth pulled into a tight line and he shrugged. “I told her I work for the Justice Department and that I need to lay low, but not much more. I do plan to tell her everything eventually. But right now, I think it’s best for her and the kids if she doesn’t know everything I’ve just told you. That way—”

  “Hell, Joe! Don’t even say that!”

  “Look, nothing’s going to happen to anybody. I’m just being extra-careful.”

  “I don’t like this. Does she know your real name?”

  “I’m going to tell her tonight—just before I ask her to marry me. I want to spend my life with her.”

  Ned was up out of his seat, feeling his eyes bug out. “You sure as hell didn’t waste much time.”

  Joe stood up, too, and didn’t look happy. “I’ve wasted thirteen years, Ned, and I plan on making up for every single one of them starting tonight.”

  It wasn’t lost on Ned that Joe could kick his ass and sweep up the deck with his lifeless form. But this development was going to take some getting used to.

  “Has she loved you back all these years, do you think?”

  Joe’s whole face changed at his question—the grimace instantly replaced by the goofiest love-struck grin Ned had ever seen. Damn. No wonder Joe had been so nervous! Tonight was the big night!

  “Well? Answer me, son—does Charlotte love you?”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Then Joe sat down, asked the waitress for a pen, and wrote a bunch of names and numbers on his bar napkin and handed it to Ned.

  “My supervisor’s name, his office, cell, and pager, plus the local field office supervisor and all his numbers. Just in case.”

  Ned accepted the napkin with astonishment, hoping to hell that Joe Bellacera knew what he was doing.

  Charlotte turned down the invitation to his little get-together, despite Bonnie’s words of encouragement, saying it had been a long day. She was right—neither of them had gotten any sleep the night before, as Joe well knew. So to get her over there, he had no choice but to admit it was his birthday.

  Now here she was, poking her head inside the gate, staring in wonder at the fairyland he’d had created just for them.

  “Whoa,” she breathed. “Oh, boy. Joe—”

  Small paper bags filled with votive candles lined the edge of the pool and patio. All the outdoor lights were off except for the underwater pool light, and he’d twined bits of honeysuckle in strands of tiny white Christmas lights, which twinkled in a crisscross pattern overhead. The table was covered in a white linen tablecloth on which he’d displayed all of the evening’s treats—except for the spray cheese, which he’d hidden until the time was right.

  “Would you like some champagne?”

  Charlotte stepped inside and clicked the gate shut behind her. She stood perfectly still, staring.

  His heart filled with delight when she began to giggle.

  “This is so unbelievably cool, Joe!”

  He took a step toward her, loving the way her little sleeveless yellow sundress rode her curves. It was the first time he’d ever seen her in a dress, and it had been worth waiting for. “I was kind of aiming for hot, Charlotte.”

  She smiled and held out her hand to him. “You’re always hot, Joe Cool.”

  As her silky little hand slipped inside his, Joe closed his eyes with the realization that she’d soon wear his ring, that he’d be able to feel the hard line of the platinum band and the three stones under the pressure of his palm.

  “Is it really your birthday, or did you say that just to lure me to your cave?”

  “I’m thirty-eight today, and I’m glad you came to my cave to celebrate with me.”

  Joe watched Charlotte’s neat auburn brows knit together. “How come you didn’t tell me this morning? We could have planned a party for you.”

  “This is a party.” He pulled her close and let his hands slide up her slender back. The warmth of her skin radiated through the thin fabric of her dress. “A party of two.”

  “Mmmmm…” If Charlotte had planned on saying more, the words melted on contact with the heat of his kiss, and he gloried in the way she sighed and eased her body into his.

  “I didn’t even get you a present,” Charlotte whispered, then nibbled on the soft flesh of his earlobe.

  “That’s what you think.” As they laughed, he pulled her tight, so tight that her feet left the patio. He hugged Charlotte close for a long moment, then eased her back down. “Come have a seat.” He guided her to a poolside chair and made sure she was comfortable. “How did the rest of your day go?”

  Charlotte let her head relax against the cushion and gave him the widest, most glorious smile he’d ever seen on a woman’s face. That woman right there glowing in the candlelight was his woman, and that smile was for him and no other man on the planet, and Joe had to admit there was something ass-kickingly wonderful about that.

  “My day was busy but good. I had a new client interview. I think this one will be the last I can take on. Isn’t that great?”

  “It is. What else happened today?”

  “Oh, Matt made a great catch tonight, a screaming line drive. Hank had four RBIs.”

  “You’ve got terrific kids, Charlotte.”

  He hardly thought it possible, but her smile just got wider. “Thanks for noticing. How was your day, Joe?”

  He had to chuckle. “Good, thanks.” He took his seat across from her and pop
ped the champagne cork, then poured two glasses.

  After a quick little tap of their glasses, Charlotte said, “Happy birthday, Joe Mills,” then eased back into her chair and took a sip. “You know, I’ve been assuming that Mills is a simplified version of Milani or Mizzelli or something like that. Do you know the history of your name?”

  “Ah. Yes, I do.” Joe took a deep breath and smiled at her. Here it comes. “My last name means ‘beautiful evening’ in Italian.”

  The little frown returned to Charlotte’s brow and she shook her head. “What name? I’m not following you. Your real family name?”

  “Yes. My last name is Bellacera, a takeoff on the words bella for beautiful and sera for evening, just like the one I hope to have tonight with you.”

  Charlotte looked perplexed. “How in the world did anybody get Mills out of that?”

  Joe laughed. “They didn’t, sweetheart. What I’m telling you is that Mills is just a name my bosses gave me about a month ago when I moved here—to help me stay below radar. My real name is Joseph Salvatore Bellacera.”

  He reached over for Charlotte’s hand, lying on the table limp with shock, and raised it to his lips. “And it’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such an extraordinary woman.”

  Charlotte’s eyes grew wide and she pulled her hand away, immediately crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I suppose the name’s another secret I’ve got to keep?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  “How many more of those you got, Joe?”

  “Just a few more. Here, baby, have a chocolate-dipped strawberry.” He leaned forward and pressed the tip of a big, juicy strawberry against her lips. She didn’t budge. “Come on, Charlotte; I checked—there are no artificial preservatives in the chocolate.”

  That made her laugh just enough that he could insinuate the fruit between her luscious lips. She took the whole thing on her tongue, her eyes sparkling in the light as she chewed.

  “Yummy,” she admitted.

  “I got crackers and grapes, too.”

  “Anything else I should know?”

  “I got squirt cheese.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” Joe rose from his chair and moved to Charlotte’s feet, where he knelt down on one knee and took both her hands in his.

  “Charlotte, I have something very important I’d like to ask you.”

  During her first proposal of marriage, Charlotte was distracted by shameful thoughts of Joe. While Kurt asked her to be his wife, her entire being wallowed in the essence of Joe—how his touch melted her fears, how the dark power of his voice drew her out of hiding, how his gaze locked onto her soul.

  It was the same this time around, only without the shame. All she felt was joy—a full-body rush of joy because what she craved and what was being offered were one and the same.

  “Do you think you’ve always loved me, Charlotte?”

  She heard herself let go with a soft laugh. It was a legitimate question—one she’d asked herself repeatedly in the last few days. She knew her answer hinged on the definition of the word itself—a word people used for nearly every relationship there was.

  Of course, she loved her children unconditionally. She loved Bonnie and Ned. She loved her parents, despite the years of distance. And the love she’d had for Kurt had been steady, comforting, and very real for a very long time.

  But what she felt for Joe was something else entirely—it was passion, and it felt bottomless, exhilarating, consuming. She’d come to see that Joe was the great passion of her life. But was passion love? And if not, could passion grow into love over time?

  She wondered which path she and Joe would take as a couple. Would they go through life as loving companions, like Ned and Bonnie? Or crash through the years like Jimmy and LoriSue, making a mess of most everything along the way?

  “Can’t you answer me?”

  She blinked, unsure how much time had passed, but the wounded look on Joe’s face told her she’d hesitated too long. She answered as honestly as she could.

  “It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s big and it’s wild and it’s a little overwhelming to me, but it’s exactly what I need.”

  His face relaxed, and she watched him lower his head for a moment, as if immensely relieved. His shoulders moved in a slow sigh; then he looked up at her, smiling.

  “Scared me there for a minute.”

  She stroked his glossy black hair, felt his hard skull under her fingers, and thought how lucky she was. She’d had two men love her in this lifetime—two very different men—who’d given her the gift of themselves.

  “It really is possible, you know.”

  She smiled at his comment, letting her fingers trail down onto his cheek, then feather across his exquisite mouth. “What’s possible?”

  Joe looked past her in thought, giving her an opportunity to study him—so fine, so funny, so giving. He turned his dark eyes on her again, quite serious now. “It’s possible to have both with one man—a companion and a sexual soul mate. I treasure you, Charlotte, as much as I desire you, and it will always be that way. You don’t have to settle for one or the other any longer. And if I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you of that.”

  Her chest clenched and her lips trembled. She didn’t want to ruin this moment with tears, but his words had just cut through the last layer of doubt. Joe apparently saw everything—and wanted everything he saw.

  She felt the metal ease down onto her left ring finger and she stared in wonder at how beautiful it was. Then she saw that Joe was choked up, too.

  “It’s exquisite, Joe.”

  He nodded, biting his lip. “It’s technically an anniversary ring. The jeweler said the three diamonds represent past, present, and future and tried to talk me out of it—but I thought it summed up things pretty good for us.”

  “Oh, Joe—”

  “Marry me.” He traced a fingertip over the three stones, then raised his eyes to hers. “Be my wife and my lover and give me a place to call home.”

  Charlotte felt her heart jump into her mouth. “I—”

  “Wait. Before you answer, there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

  Charlotte watched as Joe looked away for a brief moment and swallowed hard. When his gaze met hers again, he seemed very sad.

  Cold dread seeped into the pit of her stomach. So this was the big secret he’d been building up to.

  “Tell me.”

  “First, let me say I do think I’m safe here, Charlotte. The Administration has done a thorough risk assessment and they believe I’m out of harm’s way.”

  “But?”

  “Those bad guys I mentioned? They want to kill me.” She licked her lips, feeling her pulse spike. “Okay.”

  “There’s a million dollars waiting for whoever can bring back my head.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What do you mean, your head?”

  “My head. As in not attached to the rest of me.”

  Charlotte looked down at the glittering ring on her finger and tried to stuff down the panic but failed. Her hands began to shake and her overwhelmed brain vibrated inside her skull.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, and if you want some time to think about it, that’s fine. Just please don’t say no to me.”

  “Joe—”

  “Please.”

  “I’m sorry.” She started to cry, reeling from how fast the joy had turned to anguish. How horrible it was to think he was in so much danger. How crushing it was to realize it was over with him before it could begin.

  Because she could never marry a man being hunted down by killers. She could never put her children at risk like that.

  “This is way more than I can handle.” She began to pull the ring off her finger, but Joe’s hand clamped down hard over hers.

  “Don’t give it back to me. I love you and it’s yours.”

  “I can’t. I—”

  Joe was suddenly around he
r, against her, his arms gripping her tight to his hard chest, his mouth kissing her hair.

  “Charlotte, I understand. But please keep the ring. It’s yours forever. I’m yours forever. It doesn’t mean you’ve said yes to anything. It only means that if things are ever different, you would consider it.”

  Charlotte buried her face in his shirt, breathing in the complicated essence of Joe Mills. She corrected herself. His name was Bellacera. And not a single thing about this man had ever been ordinary or simple, starting with the way they met.

  All she wanted was Joe. Just Joe. That’s all she’d ever wanted.

  “Stay with me tonight. Let me love you. Wear the ring and stay with me. Just for tonight.”

  She threw her arms around his neck with enough desperation to send him sprawling on the patio beneath her.

  It wasn’t Joe’s intent to give Charlotte every one of her sexual fantasies that evening, but he found it difficult to deny her anything. Especially now that he feared it was the last night he’d ever have her to himself.

  So he’d tied her up, just the way she’d always wanted, and the two of them couldn’t stop giggling. He’d roped honeysuckle vines around her wrists and throat and waist and ankles, but they were bonds that shackled her to nothing but his love for her.

  “Honeysuckle Mama,” he muttered, leaving wet kisses all over the front of her body, on her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, down the slope of her soft belly. “That nickname has so many of my favorite words in it.”

  “It does?”

  He loved how husky Charlotte’s whisper had become after hours of lovemaking on the family room couch, in the swimming pool, and now on the patio furniture cushions spread on the pool deck. He loved how she instinctively arched into the press of his lips.

  “Oh, yeah.” He let his tongue slide along the ridge of her left hipbone, down into the valley between her legs, and he used his hands to gently spread her open. She was so swollen and well used that he worried she might be too sensitive even for the gentle attention of his mouth. There was only one way to find out.

  “The first word I like is honey…” he said, just before he flattened his tongue into the hot folds of her body and lapped her up. He loved how deep her moan was.

  “And then there’s the word suckle…” He brought his lips to her clitoris and nursed on her, noting what she loved and what was too intense and what made her nuts, and smiled when she shook and went rigid yet again. Joe held her, smiling to himself, wondering just how many times this woman could come in one night.