Into the Night (60 page)
But that wasn't all it was that made those men look, Sam realized. She had color in her cheeks and life m her eyes and foe in her voice as she defended Donny with real passion.
Holy fuck, was it possible Mary Lou... ? And Donny the Nutjob... ?
No fucking way.
But God knows Mary Lou hadn't been getting any from Sam lately. And she looked...
Happy?
Or at least happier.
And Don was rumored to be some kind of stock market genius worth millions. He had hundreds of thousands in his chump change savings account. Maybe Mary Lou had discovered that the key to her happiness lay not in living with a Navy SEAL, but with a lunatic millionaire. Sam sure as hell wouldn't put it past her.
But Jesus. That meant Mary Lou could well be moving out of their house into this one. Haley, too. How weird would that be?
Sam flat-out didn't like the idea of Haley being raised with a freak for a stepfather. But on the other hand, she would be right next door...
Before he could speculate any further, Muldoon came to the door of the closet.
With Donny.
The Nutjob was bent over, clutching his gut, but he was on his feet.
"I'm going to ride with Don in the ambulance," Muldoon said as if he weren't aware he'd performed a major miracle. "We'd like to go to the hospital now, if that's all right."
Everyone stood there, staring with their mouths open for about two seconds. And then everyone moved at once.
Sam just stepped back and let 'em run.
"I'm going to the hospital, too," Mary Lou told him. "Will you stay with Haley?"
Sam nodded. "Better put some real clothes on."
"I will."
They were the last ones in the room, and he had to ask. "Are you actually screwing Donny DaCosta?"
She laughed—a loud whoop of surprise—as she turned back to him. But then incredulousness replaced the amusement on her face. "You're serious."
If it was an act, she deserved an Oscar. Especially when she shot him a look of pure disgust and headed out the door. "Fuck you, Sam. Would you even care if I was?"
No. Sam didn't say it aloud, but she glanced back at him
again, and he knew she saw it written clearly on his face.
* * *
Vince watched Mike Muldoon as Mike watched Joanie pace.
The hospital waiting room was crowded, as was the actual ER.
Don had been given a bed right away in a ward with four other patients. Charlie was with him, along with that nice little neighbor gal, Mary Lou.
Donny seemed to like holding her hand. And aside from her obvious physical attributes, Vince could relate. She had a sweetness to her, a childlike, almost angelic quality that contrasted sharply with that stripper's body.
The doctors were doing some kind of tests on Den to see if it was in fact his appendix that was giving him so much pain. Apparently they could tell enough from a relatively simple blood count to keep them from immediately diving in with exploratory surgery, although that was always an option.
As Vince watched, Joanie paced her way back to Muldoon and stopped right in front of him. She was not, as Charlie would've said, a happy camper.
"How could you promise him something like that?" she said loudly enough so that Vince could overhear without straining. Which meant she was talking pretty loudly. "Something you couldn't possibly deliver?"
Mike made room for her on the bench. She didn't sit
He sighed. "First of all, I didn't promise anything I couldn't deliver."
"So what are you going to do?" she asked. "You're really going to stay here all night?"
"Yes," he said. "If your father doesn't show—
She rolled her eyes. "Not if. When. Tony's official title in life is No Show."
"Actually—"Vince leaned over to interject."—your father's on his way. I spoke to him just a few minutes ago."
"Oh, my God." Joan pretended to push her hair back from her forehead. It was obvious that her real intention was to hold on to her head so that it didn't explode from the shock. She sank down onto the bench, next to Mike. "Donny's right. Aliens are invading people's bodies. That's the only reason I can think of for why he'd come—because he's not really Tony anymore."
"Very funny," Vince said. "Give the kid a break. He's trying, okay?"
She got all self-righteous—something she was very good at. "He's not a kid, Gramps. And he's had lots of breaks."
"Well, give him one more," Vince recommended, and snapped open his newspaper, pretending to read. He didn't want to argue with Joan about Tony. Not right now, with Donny maybe headed for surgery.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her turn to Mike. "If my father's really coming, you don't have to stay."
He nodded, obviously going nowhere because he was settled back in his seat. "I'm not here for your brother, Joan. I'm here for you."
Ah, it was beautifully said. Perfectly delivered with complete, baldly honest sincerity. If she didn't melt at that, Don was right. Aliens were invading people's bodies and this young woman was no longer his sweet Joanie.
She didn't speak, which was a pretty good sign that she was melting. It was rare indeed when Joan didn't have a snappy comeback line.
And then Charlie was there with some good news. "It's not Donny's appendix," she announced. "The doctor thinks it might be some kind of food poisoning, but nothing too serious."
Joan stood up. "Can I go in and see him?"
"Of course," Charlie said.
Joan looked at Muldoon and opened her mouth to speak.
He didn't give her a chance. "I'll be right here," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Did you know your T-shirt's on inside out?" Muldoon asked as he and Joan walked all the way back to hospital lot C, where his truck was parked.
Man, he wanted to put his arms around her and kiss the heck out of her. All night long, he'd been aware of every move she made. Every time she stretched out her legs, every time she started to pace, every time she so much as took a breath.
She looked down at her chest in the dim light. "Inside out and backward," she said. She laughed. "No wonder I spent the entire night feeling like I was choking. God, and I thought it was psychological."
"I know that was rough for you," he said. "Watching Donny hurting like that, and then seeing your father. I'm sorry, I can't even offer to take you out and buy you a stiff drink. Nothing's open."
"What time is it?" she asked. "And please God, let it be before three..."
He glanced at his watch. "Uh-oh."
"Don't tell me," she said. "I don't want to know."
She looked beat. Without any makeup, she looked almost sweet. She looked younger. Innocent, even.
She'd talked briefly to her father, who looked quite a bit like a younger version of her granddad. She'd even hugged the guy. But Muldoon knew just from watching her that this was only a temporary truce, not a real peace settlement. Still, it was a start. Life was too short to carry grudges, but now was not the time to start preaching at her.
"I don't know how to thank you for this," she said as he unlocked the door to his truck and helped her up and inside.
"You don't have to thank me." He closed the door, then crossed around the front and climbed in.
"Let's just sleep here," she said. "It's so quiet and dark and perfect and I'm so exhausted..."
"The seat reclines," Muldoon told her. "Why don't you push it back as far as it goes? I'll wake you when we get to the hotel."
She reached out her hand, stopping him from putting the key in the ignition. "Don't you ever get tired of being so unbelievably nice?"
He laughed softly. "I didn't realize I was doing anything unbelievable."
He looked up to find her gazing at him, her expression such a mix of emotions he couldn't read her at all.
If it had been any other woman in the world looking at him like that, he would have taken a chance that all that emotion was a good thing, and he would have kissed her. But Joan didn't want him to kiss her.
Or did she?
He moistened his lips and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
And stayed there, for a good long time.
Okay.
When she looked back into his eyes, he knew he was completely unable to hide his desire for her.
"Aha," she whispered. "You're nice to me because you want to get laid, am I right?"
"No. I mean, yes, of course, I want us to ... but..." He shook his head.
"What you said to me in the hospital was..." Joan cleared her throat. "It was very sweet. I haven't been very nice to you these past few days, and—"
He cut her off. "It's okay. Look, I've decided that I can wait until you figure some stuff out, you know, that you need to get figured cut. Take as long as you want. I'm just... I'm just going to be here. But I'm not going to let us not be friends, Joan. I'm going to fight you for that. I'm not going to go away, even when you go back to D.C. I'm going to call, I'm going to write, and I'm going to visit. So you better get used to me hanging around."
She was silent for a long time, just gazing at him. Then she said, "We're going to make love again, aren't we?"
"Eventually," he said, his pulse kicking up a notch. He was beyond glad that she recognized that as a universal truth. "Yeah. We are."
"Tonight," she said. "I meant tonight."
And that was what that look on her face meant. She wanted...
"God," he said, "I hope so."
He kissed her. Hard. With absolutely no finesse. One minute they were talking, and the next he was on top of her, kissing her more deeply than he'd ever kissed anyone without a lengthy warm-up.
Except he wasn't really on top of her. She was as desperate for him as he was for her, and she had met him halfway.
He had her shirt pulled up, her bra unfastened, and her bare breasts in his hands within a few short seconds.
She laughed. "Whoa, Mike, we're in the parking—
He stopped her from saying more by kissing her. Yes, they were in the parking lot. The very empty parking lot with nothing around them but empty parking slots. Anyone pulling in wouldn't come near them—they'd park much closer to the hospital entrance.
And, Jesus, he didn't want to wait to drive all the way back to the hotel.
And maybe have her change her mind.
Muldoon pushed his seat back as far as it would go, which was far enough—thank you, Mr. Ford—as he unfastened her jeans.
He had to stop kissing her to pull them off her legs, which was dangerous because that meant she could talk.
"Oh, my God," she gasped, even as she helped him by kicking off her sneakers. "You actually want to ... Anyone walking past can see us!"
"No, they can't," he said.
She wasn't wearing any underpants, which would have been a really excellent discovery if he'd been taking his time. As it was, it only served to distract him.
"I happen to know that we're not invisible. At least I'm not—
"No one's walking past," he told her, cupping her with his hand, quickly trying to calculate how, in their limited amount of space, he could kiss her there.
No, there was really only one way two people their size could make love in the front seat of a truck like this one.
He pulled her on top of him, so that she was straddling him.
"Mike—"
"No one's walking past."
"Easy for you to be blasé—I'm the one who's naked and you're not!"
"I noticed." He grinned at her as he dug a condom out of his wallet. He'd put it there just a few days ago, in a burst of hope. "I'm finding that to be quite an incredible turn on. Shades of slave girl and cruel master."
That completely cracked her up. "I think you just like the idea of getting caught," she said, but she pulled her T-shirt over her head and her bra off her arms so that she really was completely naked and waiting for him.
It almost seemed a shame to unfasten his pants. But he did it without hesitating, quickly covering himself with the condom. "Who's going to catch us, slave girl? It's after four A.M."
"It's after four?" Her voice rose in dismay.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him and...
"God!"
He was inside of her, and she was laughing. He hoped it was because this felt as mind-blowingly wonderful to her as it did to him. He was in heaven with her breasts in his face and her body straining to get even closer to his.
"Suddenly four A.M. doesn't seem so awful anymore," she gasped, and he had to laugh, too. "In fact, it's my new favorite time of day. Oh, God, if you don't slow down, I'm going to come right away!"
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