Point Blank Seal

“How long has this one been awake?” She jerked her thumb at Mikey.

“Not long. Woke up, stared at me for a few minutes and proceeded to tweak your nose.” He stretched. “If I’d known it was that easy to wake you up, I would’ve used that method years ago.”

She ran her tongue along her teeth. “I remember how you used to wake me up...and I distinctly prefer your method.”

He gave her a tight smile. “What time do you have to get to school?”

She swallowed. Except for their desperate kisses last night, Miguel didn’t seem all that interested in picking up where they’d left off. “I have to be there at eight, but I need to drop off Mikey at his day care about fifteen minutes before that.”

“It’s close, the day care?”

“It’s a few blocks from the school.” She lifted Mikey and swung him over her head. “Can you watch him while I take a shower?”

Miguel’s eyes widened as his gaze darted around the hotel room. “This room isn’t babyproofed. Is it safe?”

Hooking Mikey on one hip and placing her hand on the other, she surveyed the room. “Don’t let him rip up the brochures on the credenza, keep the remote out of his picky little paws and, by all means, keep him away from the electrical outlets and the minibar. Otherwise, I think you’re good. I’ll change his diaper before I hit the shower.”

“Let me do that.” He took a step forward, holding out his arms. “I need the practice.”

She cocked her head to one side. “You sure would’ve come in handy these past eighteen months.”

A shade dropped over Miguel’s dark eyes and she bit her bottom lip. Miguel’s captivity had made him even more intense, but she couldn’t contain her own elation. Since his return yesterday, despite the challenges they faced, the heavy, dark cloud that had been following her around for two years had dissipated into fairy dust.

“I’m sorry, Jen.”

She went to him and placed Mikey against his chest, wrapping her arms around both of them. “Dear God, you have nothing to be sorry about, Miguel.”

“I should’ve never volunteered for that assignment.”

“I thought you didn’t have a choice. Besides, you did what you thought was right. You always do.” She brushed her lips across Mikey’s soft hair and then pressed them against the stubble on Miguel’s jaw. “Diaper duty for you.”

She spun around, blindly lurching for the bathroom, tears blurring her vision. When she slammed the door behind her, she hunched over the vanity and peered at her reflection. The woman who gazed back at her had dropped ten years since yesterday.

She knew she couldn’t expect Miguel to be the same person he was when he left her two years ago, but had his feelings for her changed? No. He’d told her she’d been the one keeping him strong, keeping him alive.

Did he really think she cared about the scars on his body? She snorted as she cranked on the water for the shower. Even though he’d lost a little muscle as a prisoner, he still had the hottest body she’d ever had the pleasure of exploring—scars or no scars. And she planned to do more exploration, damn it.

Maybe having Mikey in the same room had scared him off. She tipped her head back and let the warm spray course through her hair. He sure seemed eager to make up for lost time and learn everything he could about toddler care. Alicia’s husband, Troy, had probably changed a grand total of ten diapers in the past two years of Bella’s life.

The bathroom door burst open and Miguel’s voice rose above the water. “I think I need some help out here.”

Grabbing the edge of the shower curtain, Jennifer peeked into the bathroom at Miguel looming in the doorway with a squiggling Mikey tucked under one arm. “What happened?”

“First, he wouldn’t let me put his clothes on after I changed his diaper. Then he started jumping on the bed. When I tried to grab him, he crawled off the edge and fell on the floor.” Miguel took a deep breath. “I think he’s okay.”

“Well, these are the terrible toddler years.” She pointed to her soapy head. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.” She grinned at Miguel’s panicked expression. “Welcome to fatherhood. You’ll think of something.”

She whipped the shower curtain back in place and stuck her head under the water to rinse. When she finished her shower, she dropped the towel on the floor and slipped into some clean underwear.

She opened the bathroom door a crack and put her eye to the space. Two lumps, one large and one small, moved beneath the covers of the bed.

She swung open the door. “Everything okay?”

Miguel lifted one edge of the blanket. “We’re under the ocean waves here, swimming.”

Mikey’s muffled voice echoed Miguel’s. “Swimming.”

“In your diaper?”

Mikey wriggled from beneath the covers. “Swimming.”

“I see that, but now you have to get dressed so Mommy can drop you off at Ms. Lori’s room.”

“Does he need breakfast?”

“They feed him there.”

“What about you?”

“If I get moving and leave a little early, I can pick up something on the way.”

“We.” Miguel shrugged off the blanket and held Mikey’s arm as he clambered off the bed. “I’m taking you to school, and I’m picking you both up.”

She nodded, a pinprick of fear needling the back of her neck. “What are you going to do all day or at least until noon? We get out early today since the kids just have graduation practice.”

“I’m going to do some research.”

“On?”

“Moles.”

* * *

AFTER THEY DROPPED off Mikey and picked up some breakfast burritos, Miguel parked around the corner from the school.

Jennifer peeled back the yellow paper from her burrito and pointed to the bag. “Any hot sauce in there?”

“Thought I saw some.” Miguel plunged his hand into the bag and pulled out two packets of hot sauce. He ripped one open with his teeth and handed it to her.

“Who do you think broke into my house and firebombed it? Same group for both actions?” She squeezed the red sauce onto the end of her burrito and took a bite.

“Not sure.” He raised his hand and ticked off the recent events on his fingers. “You think someone’s been following you. Someone broke into your place and planted those bugs. Someone threw a Molotov cocktail into your house, but it wasn’t a big one.”

“Yeah, I feel so much better that someone threw a fiery rag in a glass bottle into my son’s bedroom, but it was just a little, bitty one.”

Miguel dabbed at a spot of hot sauce on his chin. “What I meant was that act could’ve been more of an attempt to warn and not kill.”

“It could’ve killed.” The hot sauce burned in her belly. “It could’ve killed Mikey.”