Special Forces Father - By Mallory Kane Page 0,37

good dreams.” She snuggled closer to him. “Travis?”

“Yeah, hon?” The way she said his name, hesitantly, tentatively, he was sure she was going to ask him to get up. To sleep in the living room on the couch. That she wanted to be alone.

“Stay here.”

That surprised him. “Here? You mean here, in bed?”

Her head moved up and down. “I need you close to me. I’m afraid if I’m alone I’ll fall apart.”

“Hey,” he said, turning his head toward her, “I told you, I’m here for you. Anything you want, you just tell me and you got it.”

She moved, pulling herself up and leaning over to kiss the side of his face. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know how you showed up at the exact moment I needed you.”

He turned his head and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I don’t, either, but I’m—” His words were cut off by her lips, soft and tentative on his. He was afraid to move, afraid he’d break whatever spell had been cast between them. He closed his eyes and breathed in the strawberry scent of her hair and kissed her back, as softly and sweetly as she was kissing him. Despite the gentle sweetness, he began to become aroused. He suppressed a moan of frustration.

“Travis?” she whispered drowsily, her lips moving against his.

His pulse sped up. But he knew she was not only drowsy from the medication but exhausted. He set his jaw and forced himself to ignore the tantalizing feel of her soft, full mouth on his.

“I think I’m getting sleepy now....” Her words faded at the end and he felt the tension in her body relax as she fell asleep.

Now he did moan, low in his throat, then closed his eyes and listened to her soft, even breathing.

Chapter Seven

Kate woke up from a pleasant dream that she didn’t remember. She opened her eyes and saw that it was light outside. She checked the clock on her bedside table. It was almost eight o’clock. How had she slept so late?

Then she remembered. Travis had talked her into taking a dose of Max’s cough syrup last night. Plus the blue-gray color of the light seeping in at the edge of the blinds told her that it was cloudy, maybe even raining, outside.

Travis. She glanced at the pillow next to hers. There was an indentation there. A contented, safe feeling enveloped her as she remembered him turning off the light and lying down next to her. She remembered wanting to kiss him. Wanting to do more than kiss him. But she’d been so sleepy after her shower and the tiny dose of antihistamine. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift back to last night. She had kissed him. She’d almost asked him to make love to her.

Then, with the swiftness of a blade cutting the air, her thoughts turned to Max and her safe, sexy, comfortable feelings dissolved. Her little boy wasn’t safe or contented. He was in a cold, unfamiliar bed, and when he woke up, he’d want his mommy.

“Oh, Max,” she whispered and pressed her palm against her chest. How much longer could she stand it without him? It had been two days. Before today, she’d have believed she couldn’t survive for two hours without knowing where he was.

Now she faced the knowledge that it would be days until the trial started, and who knew how many days before the court ruled on whether Myron Stamps had been temporarily insane when he’d shot Paul Guillame. Her eyes filled with hot tears that scalded her tender skin as they slid down her cheeks.

She threw back the covers and got up. In the hall, she glanced into Max’s room, half expecting to see Travis on the bed asleep, but he wasn’t there. The couch in the living room was empty, as well.

“Travis?” She glanced back down the hall toward the bathroom, but its door was open and the light was out. “Travis?” she called again. Her gaze snapped to the coffee table, where she’d left the phone last night, but it wasn’t there.

Her hand pressed against her chest again as rising panic stole her breath. Where had he gone? To see his cousin again? The hand clutching her chest clenched into a fist and rose to her mouth. She pressed her knuckles against her teeth as a heavy emptiness settled deep in her heart.

For the first time in her life she understood what a patient meant when he or she said they were