Under Siege (Wingmen Warriors 3)

Please, please, please she hoped Ivy would say she wanted to have a holiday sleepover and bring along two friends.

"My mom and Edward." Ivy looked up with soulful brown eyes so like Zach's. "It's Christmas. She's gotta come home for Christmas, right?"

Shelby cranked the volume on her portable CD player until Julia could discern words through the bleed-out.

"I'll write the check." And find a back-up for taking those tickets so Ivy wouldn't have to see empty seats if her mother didn't show.

A full-out smile wreathed Ivy's face, the complete version of Zach's half smile. "Thanks!

You're the best." She dusted off her board. "So what color are we gonna make this?"

Julia stroked the length and envisioned a warm honey stain soaking into the grain.

"Purple." Shelby chewed her gum, never missing a beat in the tune.

"Cool!" Ivy chimed.

Julia struggled not to wince. "We'll make a trip to the hardware store and decide together."

She knelt at eye-level with the board. Pursing her lips, she blew sawdust into the breeze with a long exhale.

A tingle of awareness sprinkled over her, the sense of being watched. Her eyes flew straight to the hammock. Zach stared back with sleepy-lidded heat.

The man gave a whole new meaning to bedroom eyes.

Maybe she should buy him one of those electric razors for Christmas, the kind that worked in the shower so she wouldn't have to watch his broad back bent over the sink anymore.

Thank goodness for Christmas mayhem which left them all with little quiet time alone.

And after the holidays?

She would count on his kids and their hordes of friends to keep the house from ever being empty.

Chapter 9

The empty house echoed for the first time in the two months since she'd tied her life to Zach's. From the rocker in the corner, Julia snuggled Patrick and looked out at her bedroom that still held so many reminders of Zach.

His bed loomed so darn big and empty. If she'd balked at the idea of sleeping in a bed that had belonged to another woman, Shelby had cleared up any misgivings right away by assuring her Zach had donated their elaborate sleigh bed to charity the day after Pam walked out.

The simple wooden bed in its place had only held Zach. And now her.

"Come on, Patrick, sweetie," Julia crooned to her son resting on her knees. Holding his hands, she lifted him until he sat upright, working to strengthen his torso muscles for sitting later as she'd learned in his physical therapy sessions. "Don't you want to stay up and play with Mama?"

He stretched with a spine-arching yawn. Julia sank back into the rocker and gave up. She had to be the only mother on the planet who didn't want her child to go to sleep, but she needed something to occupy her, especially tonight.>They shared a smile as she spooned shrimp fried rice onto their plates. He hooked his arms along the back of the chair, rested his chin on his hands and allowed himself the pleasure of watching the candlelight play with the color of her hair.

"I never figured out if I'm a rotten cook because I didn't have the chance to learn or if I didn't cook because I was really rotten at it. Regardless, I always ended up on the building committee, Habitat for Humanity in its early form. By the time I left for college, I'd already been in on the construction of ten houses and a food kitchen."

Her parents may have taught her all about helping others, but where were they now when their own daughter needed them? Either they hadn't noticed, or Julia hadn't wanted to ask them. She'd opted to marry him instead. The thought touched something inside him he wasn't sure he wanted to examine too closely.

She'd done so much for his girls during a year when most would have holed-up with their grief. She'd put him first today with that kiss of hers.

And what had he done for her?

He hadn't even changed out of his damned flight suit.

"Sorry there wasn't time to put together more of show for today's ceremony."

"No need to apologize. I had all of that first go-round." Julia twirled her fork through the food on her plate. "Actually, I prefer it this way. The fewer memories of the past the better."