Headed for Trouble - By Suzanne Brockmann Page 0,53

found himself being coerced into receiving and/or giving some of that immediate gratification at times he normally would have considered inappropriate.

In the middle of the day, when they were already both late for work.

In the bathroom at a friend’s house, during a party.

In the back of a limo.

And okay, coerced wasn’t really the right word. He’d never needed much convincing. Still, as Robin often pointed out, Jules always had been something of a Yankee in terms of his definition of inappropriate.

Had been.

But right now, as they sat and sat and sat in traffic, Jules realized that somewhere over the past year or so, the idea of sex—with his wonderful, fabulous, lovely husband—in the very private back of a limo had become not only entirely appropriate but eagerly anticipated.

“God, babe, I missed you,” Robin breathed, as Jules lost himself in the warm ocean-blueness of his eyes.

And even though kissing this man to whom he was legally wed could be dangerous while trapped in a parking lot with lots of other cars and drivers who were also trapped and no doubt angry at the world, Jules leaned forward and caught Robin’s mouth with his.

Because, fuck it. They kept a tire iron under the front seat, and Jules and Robin both knew how to use it. Not only that, but there were additional items that could be used as weapons in the back of the car. A military entrenching tool, with a little shovel that unfolded, which was allegedly kept in the car in case they got stuck in snow and ice, but was heavy and could do some serious damage if slammed into an attacker’s face. Plus he had his sidearm. Yeah, it was locked in a travel case but he could open it quickly enough and what was wrong with this world that he was sitting here, mentally taking inventory of weapons that he might need to defend both Robin and himself, merely for publicly expressing their eternal, committed love?

Jules shut off his internal FBI agent—well, as much of it as he could—and cleared his mind of everything but the softness of Robin’s lips, the sweetness of his mouth, the love he could practically taste, and God damn, it was good to be home.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I mean it, Jack.” Arlene came out of the kitchen, temper blazing. “You do not want to be here when Maggie gets home.”

Jack settled back in the chair she’d recently vacated, ready to argue, but the phone rang again.

Arlene was still holding the cordless handset, and she forcefully clicked it to talk, and put it to her ear. “I don’t care if your rehearsal’s not over yet, you get yourself home.” She looked surprised, then, as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone—it was probably not Maggie, judging from the heightened color along her delicate cheekbones.

She was beautiful, and Jack knew full well that the gorgeous red hair and charming freckles, the big green eyes and gracefully shaped mouth, and the lithe, athletic body were just the outer package. He’d fallen in love with the funny, sharp-witted, often sarcastic, sometimes tough, and always kind girl—and yes, Leenie had been a girl when he’d fallen for her.

And Jack had been an idiot, because he’d run away from her, because along with everything that he found attractive about her, she was also messily emotional, always getting into trouble, too much of a tomboy, too freaking independent, and yet way too vulnerable and shockingly naive.

And instead of waiting for her to grow up, and then kissing the hell out of her and marrying her ass, he’d convinced himself that Becca—cool, aloof, mature, with handbags that always matched her expensive shoes—was the kind of woman he should want.

Should.

But didn’t.

Yes, he was an idiot.

“I’m so sorry,” Arlene was saying into the phone. “No, Dolphina’s not here. She and Will were going to dinner—she was going to meet him downtown at the Globe office and …” She cleared her throat. “I have to tell you how much I enjoyed Rip Tide. And American Hero. I think that one’s still my favorite. You were amazing.”

Okay. That had to be Robin Chadwick Cassidy on the other end of the phone. And now Arlene’s cheeks were tinged with color for an entirely different reason, her anger at her daughter momentarily forgotten as she had a fangrrl moment.

And as she continued to speak to the movie star, she smiled, which made her look young and sweet, and Jack’s heart lurched in his