Troubleshooters: Headed For Trouble Part 15

"Joke's over, Jack." Arlene was getting seriously p.i.s.sed.

But he still didn't move. He couldn't. He wouldn't. "I should have called you," he said. "I was wrong, and I regret it. If I could do it over, and do it differently, I would. I would call you and I would explain, and I would ..." He had to clear his throat. He closed his eyes and he just said it. "I would tell you how much that night meant to me, and how badly I wanted to have other nights, just like it, for the next fifty years."

She shook her head, unrelenting, but then said, "You broke up with Becca a year ago. It never occurred to you to call me then?"

Hope s.h.i.+fted inside of him, just the slightest spark of life inside a miniscule seed, ready, with the least bit of encouragement, to grow. She'd obviously kept track of him. Asked Will for information.

"You were seeing what's-his-name," he pointed out. "Peter. The idiot."

"If you thought he was such an idiot," she countered, hands on her hips, "why not kick down my door and-"

"I thought you were in love with him. Will told me it was serious."

She laughed her surprise, turning it into a scoff. "It wasn't."

"Yeah, well, Will told me it was," Jack was unable to hide his frustration. "He told me you were happy and I ..." He held her gaze, imploring her to believe him. "I wanted you to be happy, Leen, so I stayed away."

That shut her up. In fact, she shut the open door, too, coming back to stand in the middle of the living room. But now her arms were folded across her chest-he was far from winning.

"So when you found out that Peter was a thing of the past," she finally said, "you immediately e-mailed me ...? Except, wait, you didn't."

"I found out that Peter was a thing of the past," he told her, a touch testily himself, "when Maggie e-mailed me, asking if I was interested in knocking you up." He glanced at his watch. "She's going to call, in about two minutes, to tell you to have dinner without her-that her rehearsal's going to run late."

Arlene was horrified. "You didn't actually tell her that you'd-"

"Yeah, right."

She was apparently unable to process sarcasm right at that moment, so he clarified. "Of course I didn't. But I did tell her I was going to come here and ..." The ring he'd bought was burning a hole in his inside pocket, but he wasn't supposed to throw the d.a.m.n thing at her. He was supposed to go heavy on the romance, get down on his knees. No, there was a time and place for everything, and that ring box was staying deep in his pocket. At least for now. "Talk to you," he finished, since she was waiting, impatiently for the end of his sentence.

"Hey, how are you. It's been awhile. Let's have s.e.x so I can get you pregnant, because a thirteen-year-old thought that would be a good idea."

Okay. Apparently he was wrong. Arlene was completely capable of dis.h.i.+ng out the sarcasm, even if she wasn't able to take it.

"No, actually, my plan was to say, Hey, how are you? It's been awhile. I'm still as crazy about you as I've always been and for the first time in what feels like forever we're both single at the same time, so what do you say we put a new spin on the relations.h.i.+p thing and see if we can't get it to work by getting married-to each other this time."

And that had done it-Jack had completely stunned her. He'd managed to stun himself, too, having all but resolved, mere seconds ago, not to mention the M-word.

But now that he had, he might as well go big. He reached into his jacket pocket for the ring box, opened it, and set it on the coffee table, in front of her.

She slowly lowered herself into Will's ugly-a.s.s BarcaLounger, her eyes huge in her too-thin but still-beautiful face. She didn't say anything, she just stared at him.

And okay. If he were going to be rejected, he might as well make his humiliation complete. He got down on his knees on the carpeting in front of her and took her hand. Her fingers were cold as he interlaced them with his own. "Marry me, Arlene," he whispered.

"That's crazy," she breathed, but she didn't look away. And he knew, just from gazing into her beautiful eyes, that she was still as attracted to him as he was to her. That spark they'd flamed to an inferno on that amazing, unforgettable night was still ready to ignite. "You're crazy."

Jack shook his head. "All these years, our timing's been off-"

"And you don't think it's a little off now?"

"No," he said. "I think it's perfect."

"In less than four weeks, I'm going back to Iraq."

"Maybe not," he pointed out.

"No," she argued. "I am. I definitely am."

"Arlene-"

"Jack." She was holding tightly to his hands now as if trying to squeeze some sense into him. She was gazing into his eyes, too, to make him understand. "I have to. If I don't go back, they'll send someone else. Someone who hasn't been as well trained, someone who hasn't learned how to keep the kids in my unit safe. And even if that didn't matter to me ...? G.o.d, I'm not sure I even want to have another baby. And I'm certainly not having one unless I'm married to someone I know is going to be there for the next twenty years."

He opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off again. "I'm not going to have a baby just to ... have a baby. So, nice try. Good attempt. I don't know what Will is blackmailing you with, but you can tell him you did your best."

"Leenie-"

"Shhh." She reached out and brushed his hair back from his face, her fingers cool against his skin. "Let it go, Jack. That night? The s.e.x was great, but ..." She shook her head. "We'd drive each other nuts."

It was then that the phone rang-Maggie, right on schedule.

Arlene let go of Jack's hands, and pushed herself out of the chair, stepping over him to go into the kitchen. She picked up the phone and didn't even bother to say h.e.l.lo. "You get your b.u.t.t home, young lady. Right now."

She didn't wait to hear any excuses or counterarguments. She just hung up the phone with some force.

"You should definitely not be here when she gets back," she called to Jack.

Chapter Three.

"Huh," Robin said. "That was weird."

As Jules Ca.s.sidy inched his way out of the busy airport parking lot, he glanced at his husband of less than a year, who was staring at his cell phone, his movie-star-perfect brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Robin's hair was jarhead short. Apparently Joe Laughlin, the character-a closeted gay A-list actor-he played on his. .h.i.t cable-TV series Shadowland was "starring" in a war movie as an enlisted Marine.

As usual, Robin had been nervous about Jules's reaction to the crew cut, since he'd had it buzzed while Jules was away. But, also as usual, Jules loved it, just as he'd loved every haircut and style-long, short, in-between and a mult.i.tude of colors-that Robin had ever had.

His spouse was freakin' gorgeous-and a full triple screaming-bejeezus hot. And it had been eons since Jules had kissed the man, let alone ...

The car in front of him was stopped by the car in front of them, and on and on it went, out of Jules's line of sight, and probably all of the way out of Logan and right to the front steps of their South End of Boston home. Still he tried to mind-control the car at the front of this mess, no matter that it was miles away, willing whoever-it-was to put the pedal to the metal.

"I just called Will's, to see if Dolphina was there," Robin was explaining, "and I'm pretty sure Maggie's mother answered."

"Arlene, right?" Jules said, as the solid, endless minute they'd been sitting in this exact spot turned to two and began working its way to three. "Does she go by Bristol, or-"

"She's Schroeder, like Will," Robin reported.

Jules nodded. That was what he'd thought. Ted Bristol, Maggie's dad, not only lived across the country in Seattle, but, according to Will, was a textbook functioning alcoholic. Despite being capable of holding a job and paying his rent, his was not the household that Arlene had wanted Maggie to live in for a week, let alone a year.

Years plural, now-because Arlene was being sent back to Iraq for her third tour. Which made Jules's impatience about the traffic seem petty and selfish, but for the love of G.o.d, was he the only one here who was in a hurry to get home?

"She didn't sound happy," Robin was telling Jules now-she being Arlene, whom he'd just spoken to on the phone. "And she didn't wait to find out that I wasn't Maggie before she young-ladied me and ordered my b.u.t.t home."

"You better call back." Jules was in four-weeks-and-three-days of a hurry to get home, to be accurate. Which was four weeks longer than he'd expected to be gone when he'd packed his carry-on bag last month.

Yeah, kids. Last month.

His meeting in Was.h.i.+ngton had turned into a meeting in London, which had morphed into an FBI a.s.signment in Afghanistan. Which was not the kind of place where Robin could join him for a long weekend.

Jules had more than half expected Robin to meet him here at the airport with a limousine and driver. If he had, this traffic wouldn't matter. They'd be in the back, with music playing and the privacy s.h.i.+eld up.

"I'm getting one of those circuit's-busy signals," Robin reported, and then smiled ruefully as he met Jules's gaze, as he accurately read Jules's mind. "Sorry about-"

"It's all right." Jules took his life partner's hand, intertwined their fingers. Robin had broken the no-limo news to him mere seconds after they'd first embraced.

I couldn't get a limo at such short notice, but Jesus, I'm glad you're home.

Jules had laughed at the time, thinking that Robin was just being Robin-the king of immediate gratification. When it came to expressing the physical side of their love, here and now was Robin's mission statement, and Jules often 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 s.e.x-with his wonderful, fabulous, lovely husband-in the very private back of a limo had become not only entirely appropriate but eagerly antic.i.p.ated.

"G.o.d, 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, f.u.c.k 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 G.o.d d.a.m.n, 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 h.e.l.l out of her and marrying her a.s.s, 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 Ca.s.sidy 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 chest, and he knew-without a doubt-that he was not going to leave here without at least a promise that she'd think about giving the two of them a solid try.

"Okay, maybe the ring was too much too soon," Jack told her as she hung up the phone. "We've got a month. Let's see each other."

"See?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Or have s.e.x?"

"The two are not mutually exclusive," he pointed out. "Frankly, I'd like very much to take you to dinner every night and then back to my place to-"

"And you seriously think it's just the ring that's too much too soon?"

"I'm just saying," Jack confessed. "If I had my way, we'd be on a plane to Vegas tonight and you'd be my wife before I-"

"Stop." She cut him off again.

"I know the attraction's still there," Jack pushed harder. "You can pretend all you want that it's not, but I know, Arlene, so-"

"I'm not denying the attraction. I'm just ..."

"What?"

"The timing's not right." But now Arlene wouldn't meet his gaze. In fact, she turned away. "I need to call Maggie, and tell her to get home."

"You want to take it slowly," Jack persisted. "We'll take it slowly. Although not too slowly, because you've only got a month and-"

But Arlene had apparently dialed Maggie's cell phone, and she now spoke to the girl. "Get home."