Chapter 6
Lyrical
“Oh my gosh!” one girl squealed. “It’s the Caped Crusader!”
I felt a tug on my pant leg. “I want to be in the Man of Steel’s group,” a little boy whispered.
Ovary. Explosion. When Tiguan called and said he’d found us four more chaperones for the trick-or-treating expedition, I figured the guys had volunteered, but this? This I did not expect.
Four superheroes. The kids were beside themselves.
I almost cried. It made all the crap I’d been going through worthwhile.
As soon as Jesse and Jamie’s parents discovered I had moved home to run the center, they campaigned hard to get us shut down.
They lodged complaint after complaint with the city, prompting inspectors to come and check everything from alleged rat infestations to fire-code violations.
A city auditor had to come in and look at all the books because someone claimed I had embezzled from the accounts.
They even claimed I hid criminals—dangers to the city. It just never stopped.
Since I knew his parents had the ear of the community, I worried about how well-attended the event would be. Clearly, I shouldn’t have been worried. The community waved them off and attended in droves, both as part of the event staff and as attendees.
A lot of the vendors and booths donated their time to be here, even though they normally charge to attend events. They kept whatever money they made, but many of them donated their profits back to the center. That alone made my heart sing.
That wasn’t the end though. The rental company called and said, “Oops, we lost the invoice” for all the tables and chairs we rented.
Besides working the booths, the kids from the high school brought in donations of nonperishable food for our mini food bank for the women who used our services, new boots and jackets for the children for the upcoming winter, and adults stuffed the money jar so much on their way in the gate, we had to empty it several times.
Last but not least, the band told us a mysterious benefactor had covered the cost of their show, and that they’d be returning our deposit.
The generosity of the city overwhelmed me.
But this? Four Marines who’d gone out of their way for children they didn’t know, based on a throwaway comment Tiguan overheard? My cup runneth over.
A voice buffeted my full heart. Tiguan’s good for you.
The party was still going on when they returned with the children in tow, hyped up on sugar and superhero goodness. They even posed for pictures in action-character poses.
My uterus was screaming, and I had to admit there was some other tingling going on. The web slinger was definitely bringing out all my girly fantasies.
Some of the teenage girls who were “too old” for trick-or-treating but not “too young” to recognize swoon-worthy men had tagged along with the groups. One of them tapped Tiguan, still fully costumed, on the shoulder. “Will you reenact that scene where he kisses the girl upside down?”
Oh lord.
“Do I get to pick the girl?” he asked. The mask muffled his voice, but everyone heard him.
“Sure,” the teen said.
He glanced through the crowd, and when he found me, he walked over. He held out his hand.
“Umm…”
“For the kids,” he whispered.
My face burned. “Not sure where you’re going to hang upside down from,” I mumbled.
He looked around, spotting the high set of monkey bars in the playground.
Still holding my hand, he basically dragged me over to them.
Once underneath them, he jumped for one of the middle rungs, swung his legs up between two of them, and lowered himself so his face was level with mine, but upside down.
Holy crap, all that arm and core strength should be illegal.
“Glad it’s not raining,” he teased quietly. “I’d hate to get water up my nose and ruin the moment.”
“You’re incorrigible,” I joked back.
The crowd followed, including the other superheroes, and there were a lot of good-natured calls of encouragement from the kids and the adults.
I gently reached for the cowl tucked into his costume's shirt and peeled it back, uncovering his mouth. Taking a deep breath, I leaned in and touched my lips to his.
The moment we kissed, I felt a spark. I’d never felt that before. Jesse and I had kissed. We’d made love, and I was pregnant with our baby when he went on his last deployment. But this?
You’ve mourned long enough, Lyrical.
The voice in my head gave me wisdom I should take. But why did the voice have to sound like Jesse’s?
When they delivered the news that he had died while on a mission, I went into shock, and then I miscarried. I mourned him and the baby. Losing them both was cruel.
But if I told the honest truth, our physical relationship categorized us more as cuddlers than lovers. We loved each other, but it wasn’t with great abandon. There’d never been a time when we’d exploded with passion.
But this man? He would be all about passion.
His lips pressed against mine, and they were not passive in the exchange.
While chaste at first touch, it didn’t take long for him to seek entry into my mouth, and I opened for him without thinking.
My hands framed his face, my tongue twined with his, and now I understood why that scene caused so many sighs in the movie theater.
My thoughts were in tumult, my heart pounded, my tummy swirled, my skin tingled, and shivers ran through me that had nothing to do with the cool night air.
Catcalls and cheers sounded in our ears, and reluctantly, we both pulled away. The teenage girls were swooning, all agog at the “hot lip-lock” between us.
While Tiguan swung down from the monkey bars, I caught Jamie’s eye. I worried he’d be upset. No one would think that kiss was a simple reenactment for fun. However, he was grinning from ear to ear. He actually winked at me and nodded.
I’m glad you liked his touch, sweetness.
That voice of Jesse’s inside my head held no condemnation, and that scared me.
Confused, I looked at Tiguan, who’d pulled his mask back down into place. My eyes welled up with tears, and my heart pounded. What had I done?
With a quick apology, I excused myself from the throng and headed inside to my office to calm my racing heart.