Chapter 37
Jackie walked up a carpeted flight of stairs and unlocked her apartment door, a bottle of champagne in her hand and a bag of groceries balanced on her hip. The furnishings were sparse, but bit by bit, she was making it her own. “I’m home!”
“Hi, Mom!” called Selena. “Did you get the job?”
“Yeah, did you get the job?” called Razorback, both of them walking into the kitchen just as she put the groceries on the counter.
She frowned. She’d interviewed for a production assistant position at the local television station, having finally decided she was ready to step out from behind a reporter’s desk and do a different type of news. “It didn’t go quite as I’d planned.”
Razorback leaned on the counter and put a hand on his hip. “What happened?”
“The station manager felt my experience at the newspaper left me overqualified for the production assistant position.” She did her best to look as disappointed as possible, letting her shoulders slump forward and keeping her eyes down, before picking up the champagne with a smile. “So he’s giving me a shot at producer.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound she was getting used to hearing in her household. He hugged her, lifting her off her feet. “Congratulations, baby.”
“Good job, Mom!” said Selena.
“Thanks, kiddo!” She and Selena had moved into the Tarrytown apartment two weeks ago, and while Razorback didn’t live with them, he was there almost every day he wasn’t out of town on a mission with HERO Force.
A large box in the corner caught her eye. “What’s this?”
“UPS guy brought it by,” he said.
“I didn’t order anything.” She brought it to the counter and opened it, lifting out another box. “A sous vide cooker? What is this?”
Razorback chuckled and rolled his eyes. “That would be Sloan.”
She pulled a paper from the bottom of the box. “Happy housewarming. Love, Sloan. P.S. Don’t let Razorback put bread in this thing.” She shook her head. “There’s a story there someplace. That was nice of him.”
She unpacked groceries. “I also stopped at the town office complex and officially had my death certificate revoked, so I can get my social security card tomorrow and actually be able to work, and get my driver’s license so I can prove who I am and the judge can finally rubber-stamp my divorce. What did you guys do today?”
“I installed a rescue ladder under Selena’s window.”
The girl was beaming. “Now I won’t have nightmares.”
“And I finished painting your room.”
“Aww, you did?” She kissed his cheek, then handed him the champagne. “Will you open this? I feel like celebrating.”
Selena ran to the radio while Jackie poured their drinks, taking a sip of the refreshing bubbly drink. “I can put on some party music,” Selena said, choosing a pop song with a thumping beat.
Razorback danced, badly and boldy. “This is my jam!” Selena and Jackie laughed. He took her hand and pulled her into the middle of the kitchen floor, spinning her around to the music.
The song ended and a slower one came on. Jackie fitted herself more tightly against him with a sigh. “Everything’s falling into place. Is it wrong that I keep waiting for it all to fall apart?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s going to be different this time, Jackie. Nothing’s going to fall apart. You’ll see.”
“And if it does?”
“Then we’ll deal with it together. I’m not going anywhere, are you?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Except Louisiana,” he said. “Dire and I go wheels up in the morning for a couple of nights on a private security detail.”
Already she hated that he traveled so much, but she didn’t expect perfection. “I’ll get a nice loaf of Italian bread to boil up for you when you return.”
“I’d like that.” He kissed her. She opened her lips, changing the tenor of the kiss to something entirely different, and his arms tightened around her.
Selena grabbed their legs, moving along with them. “What’s for dinner?” she asked.
Jackie and Razorback lifted their heads. “Meet me after bathtime,” he whispered.
She grinned and traced a line down his jaw to his chin. Ian Rhodes was one hell of a man, and they might just get to have one hell of a relationship. “You got it, hot stuff.”