Nobody's Hero (44 page)

During a particularly noisy discussion about
who would the football game later, Adam leaned over to Karla and
whispered so only she could hear. “If you don’t clean your plate,
I’m going to haul you over to Lake Michigan and warm your backside
in front of anyone who happens to walk or jog by.”

Karla looked up at him and he heard a tiny
hitch in her breathing. Shit, did she want a spanking? If so, would
she go all bratty on him and disobey just to get him to discipline
her? Interesting. Maybe…

Then Karla speared a piece of turkey and
brought it to her mouth, followed quickly by a bite of her broccoli
casserole. As if on automatic, she took bites at regular intervals
until she’d finished everything on her plate. So, what was she
saying—that she didn’t want him to discipline her anymore?

No shit, jarhead
.

What the fuck was it with his internal critic
now using Joni’s voice?

More important, why did Karla’s latest
rejection bother him so much? What if she went looking for a new
Dom in one of the BDSM clubs in Chicago? The thought of her walking
into one of those places dressed in one of her sexy outfits caused
him to lose his appetite now. Of course, she’d left the sexiest of
the outfits behind when she’d packed.

Karla leaned over to him and whispered low
and directly into his ear, “Sir, if you don’t clean your plate, I
am going to come to your room tonight and force you to eat me
instead.”

Adam’s cock came to a full salute in about
three seconds flat and he adjusted himself in the chair. Memories
of going down on Karla’s sweet pussy nearly caused him to come
undone.
Shit
. He’d like to see the day when a sub could
force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

Oh, yeah, like she’d have to force you.

Jesus Christ, they were in her parents’
house, at their Thanksgiving table. What was the matter with him?
Besides, he had to straighten out some shit from his past before he
could ever plan a future with Karla. He planned to leave for Denver
tomorrow. But he still wanted to get a chance to talk things over
with her.

He reached for his fork and knife and cut off
a piece of the ham, still finding it hard to believe she’d
remembered that throw-away comment in the taxi. Maybe when Karla
said she’d waited her whole adult life for him, she wasn’t kidding.
Still, she didn’t seem to have shown up in Denver looking for a
romantic relationship. That just happened later. Didn’t it?

When had he first noticed Karla was an adult?
That damned audition, before he knew it was Karla. But when had she
first shown she was attracted to him? It had to have been in Marc’s
playroom and that Shibari demonstration, where he’d tied her arms
behind her using the Teppou technique.

Or was that just the first time she’d let him
know she was attracted to him sexually? Sure, when she was sixteen,
she’d declared her love on the porch of this very house. But the
first time he’d felt she was speaking to him on a sexual level as
an adult was when she sang
Song to the Siren
on the stage at
the club. She’d been his siren ever since.

So, when had he fallen in love with her?

Yeah, there was no longer a doubt in his mind
that he loved this sassy young woman seated next to him. She loved
him back, too, even though she’d given up on him at the moment. So,
what did he plan to do about it? He wasn’t getting any younger. He
needed to propose.

But not until after he took care of business
in Minnesota. He wouldn’t ask her if he couldn’t be around to take
care of her for a reasonably long time.

He glanced at Jenny who now stared at Karla
with concern on her face. Had she noticed that her daughter was
losing weight and not eating much, too? At least she’d eaten today.
But, hell, she’d eaten last night, too. Did Jenny know about this
morning? If he wasn’t going to be taking Karla home with him, he
needed to make sure Jenny and Carl knew to keep an eye on her until
he could take over again.

He cast his gaze in Karla’s direction and saw
the way she clamped her mouth tight and held her stomach. Aw, hell.
Not again. Would she keep this meal down? Did she have the flu? He
wanted to check her forehead, but didn’t want to attract attention.
Maybe after dinner.

He felt a strong need to take care of her.
Even if he failed at meeting her emotional needs, he knew he could
meet her physical and financial ones. If there ever was anything
with Karla, he’d need to be more up front with her than he had been
with Joni. Memories of Joni's words on those tapes still haunted
him. She’d sworn he’d been all she’d ever wanted in a husband, in a
man. But he’d short-changed her in the emotional department, even
though she hadn't indicated this to be the case in the tapes she'd
recorded. While he didn’t want to repeat that mistake with Karla,
he had to concede he just didn’t have a fucking clue how to
change.

He wished this meal would come to an end so
he could get Karla alone to talk with her. To speed things along on
his end, he dug in and finished everything on his plate before he
remembered Karla’s threat. Damn. Maybe he should fill his plate
again so he could leave something and see if she’d follow through,
because the thought of devouring Karla’s pussy made his mouth water
than this meal did.

God, he had it bad.

* * *

After the dishes had been cleared and a game
of Apples to Apples played—won by Adam who had an uncanny way of
playing just the card that would play to the judge’s emotions—Karla
felt so drained, she’d bowed out of taking a walk with him. He’d
felt her forehead and declared in his annoying mama-bear mode that
she didn’t have a fever. Well, at least she hadn’t before he’d
touched her.

How she’d missed his touch.

The emotional roller coaster and the
queasiness in her stomach lately had her body screaming to regroup.
As she watched him walk out the front door, she climbed the stairs
to her room to lie down. She’d barely stretched out and closed her
eyes when she heard the “She’s a Maneater” ring tone on her
phone.

Mistress Grant.

Her heart thudded against her chest. Did the
Marine have some info? Or was it too late, even if she could figure
out what was eating at Adam from his childhood? Karla accepted the
call and placed the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Yes or no—are you alone?”

Karla sat up. “Yes.”

“Good. I’ve found something that I’m not sure
we’ll want Adam to know about until it’s been checked out.”

Karla reached over to the nightstand to pick
up her song-writing notebook and a pencil. “I’m ready.”
For
whatever it takes
.

“It was nearly impossible to trace him before
he joined the Marines, as if he just appeared out of nowhere. Then
my source found out he’d changed his last name. Montague is his
mother’s maiden name.”

Well, he really detested his father, so Karla
could understand that.

“His mother’s alive. Remarried. Doing quite
well, it seems. Adam’s father was killed in a home invasion and she
moved to Chicago soon after.”

“Was Adam hurt in the home invasion?”

“From what I can tell in newspaper reports,
he wasn’t there. Only his parents. Maybe he’d already run away by
then. Anyway, his mother remarried a few years later and started a
new family. Adam has a half-brother and a half-sister.”

“Oh, my God. Are they still here in Chicago?”
Adam would so much want to have a family. He’d been putting
together his own replacement family for years at the club—and she
knew his surrogate family always would be as close as he’d let
anyone. But for him to have blood relatives would be so good for
him, provided they loved him unconditionally.

“His mother’s there. The brother has a
business in Albuquerque and his sister is in graduate school at USC
in LA.”

“I need to call his mother before I tell him
about her. Even better, meet her face to face. I don’t want her to
hurt him.”
Again.

“Yeah, I’d feel better if you checked her
out. He doesn’t need any bat-shit crazy woman messing with his
head.”

Karla smiled. Grant cared about Adam as much
as she did. Well, maybe not
that
much, but she did care, as
a friend. Good thing, because Karla wouldn’t want to mess up
Grant’s pretty face in a knock-down, drag-out for Adam’s
affections. Yeah, Karla realized with a grin, she wasn’t quite
ready to give up on her man.

Grant gave her the phone number and address.
My God
. She was so close; only ten minutes away, up on Lake
Shore Drive. Apparently, the woman had done all right for
herself—financially, at least—if she lived in that Gold Coast
neighborhood.

After thanking Grant and hanging up, Karla
just stared at the phone a moment. It was Thanksgiving night, but
Adam would be leaving Chicago soon. There wasn’t much time. She
punched in the phone number and waited, not sure what she was going
to say.
“Oh, hi. I’m Karla and in love with your son and just
want to know what the fuck you did to him when he was growing up to
make him so afraid to love me back.”

Okay. Maybe that was too much information for
a phone call. She might need to save some of that for the
face-to-face. Her heart pounded as she waited for someone to
answer.

When a woman answered the phone, Karla
gripped the phone. “Mrs. Gallagher?”

“Who’s calling please?”

Cold. Aloof. Careful.

“Karla Paxton. You don’t know me, but we have
a mutual acquaintance that I need to talk with you about.”

“And who might that be?”

“Your son—Adam.”

The audible gasp told Karla she’d definitely
hit a nerve. Good. She’d like to hit a few more.

“How is he?” The pain-filled whisper threw
Karla for a loop.

“Fine. Well, mostly fine. But I need to know
some things about his past. I need to meet you somewhere to talk
about Adam so I can…well, just because I need to know. But there
isn’t much time. Can we meet tonight? I’m in Lincoln Park.”

“I can’t go out. Why don’t you come to my
apartment?”

She certainly was more trusting than her son.
After arranging a time to meet, Karla ended the call and swung her
legs over the side of the bed, then stood in one motion. The room
swayed and she plopped back onto the mattress until the dizzy spell
had passed. The queasiness she’d been feeling for the past few
mornings was now becoming an all-day occurrence. Maybe she
was
getting the flu, but just didn’t have the fever or
chills yet.

Well, she didn’t have time to give in to
sickness. She had a mission to accomplish tonight. This might be
her last hope to help Adam. Standing more slowly this time, she
picked up the notebook with the address and headed downstairs.

Adam wasn’t back yet. Good. She didn’t want
to have to lie to him. After explaining to her mom that she needed
to run an errand, she grabbed the keys to the car and headed out
the front door.

She met Adam on his way up the steps.
Fucking damn
. He gave her a smoldering look that turned her
knees to jelly. “Karla, we need to talk.”

Oh, great. Now he wants to talk.
Okay,
he’d wanted her to walk with him earlier, so maybe he’d wanted to
talk then. “I totally agree, Adam, but not now. I need to run…to
the store. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll ride along.”

“No!” His stunned expression forced her to
slow down. “I lied. I don’t have to go to the store. I just need to
take a drive. Alone. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“How the hell far are you driving? It’s
dark.”

“I’ve driven in the dark before, Adam.”

“Yeah, and you had an accident recently. I
don’t want you driving around alone.”

“Adam, there aren’t any deer in Chicago. I’ll
be fine.” Hoping to ditch him, she started down the steps toward
the sidewalk, only to realize he was following her.
Double
fucking damn
. How was she going to get rid of him? She needed
to be at Mrs. Gallagher’s in ten minutes. No way did she want to
piss the woman off and lose the opportunity. But she wasn’t about
to let Adam tag along either. What if the woman
were
bat-shit crazy, like Grant said? Karla wouldn’t expose Adam to any
more emotional torture from the woman.

Adam grabbed her elbow and halted her.
“What’s going on, Karla?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze, but he gripped
her chin, his fingers biting her jaw, and forced her to look at
him. How could she lie to him when looking into his eyes?

Please, Adam. Don’t mess this up. I’m just
trying to help you.

“I’m meeting someone. And I’m late.”

Adam let go of her as if burned, but quickly
masked the hurt expression.
Good God, Adam. Do you think I’m off
to meet a lover? Don’t you trust me even a little bit?

“I see.”

No, you don’t
. But she needed to go,
and if this is what it took to get him to let her go alone, then
she’d let him stew on it a while.

“I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

Now why had she added that snarky comment?
Well, if he didn’t trust her anyway, it wouldn’t matter what she
said. Karla turned and went to the family’s sedan and got in. Her
eyes blurred with tears. Why was she crying when what she really
felt was blood-boiling anger at that impossible man she’d had the
misfortune of falling in love with?

Dashing the tears from her eyes, she started
the ignition and drove away. A glance in the rear-view mirror told
her Adam was gone already. Figured.

Trust me, Adam. For once, just fucking trust
someone to love you.

Why wouldn’t she just tell him who the fuck
she was meeting? Adam pulled the keys out of his pocket, got into
his vehicle, and followed her. He hoped he hadn’t already lost her,
but she could get into a lot of trouble in a city this big.