She took his hand and placed their hands palm to palm. Then she threaded their fingers together.

"I've missed you." Her voice was a whisper. Definitely vulnerable. Hopefully sexy.

He let out a low growl.

"I want you, Mitchell. All of you. In my house, and in my bed."

Another growl, then he went in for an urgent kiss. No slow build, no words, no gentle nips. Just straight to the good stuff. She let him. Being without him the past few days had her wanting to skip a few steps.

"There's no place else I'd rather be." He pulled her as close as they could get with the console in between them. When he moved to her neck, she let out a moan. His lips weren't gently nipping and suckling like usual. His mouth moved the length of her neck like he was hungry, and he sunk his teeth into the crook of her neck with enough pressure for her to gasp.

His incredible fingers went to the hot, throbbing spot between her thighs and worked it.

"Mitchell."

He placed a smoking-hot, openmouthed kiss in the same spot his teeth had just been, then an even hotter one on her lips. "I love it when you say my name like that."

Threading her fingers into the back of his hair, she pulled his mouth into hers for another deep kiss. Then she brushed her nose across his. "I love it when you do the things that make me say it like that."

He laughed.

First time she'd heard him do so in days. That had to be a good sign.

So she decided to roll the dice. Winner take all. "I love you, Mitchell."

He went rigid, and his breaths sped up.

She swallowed. Brushed her lips against his and gave him the soft kiss that said it was alright if he couldn't say it back. It hurt, but she'd rather he be honest, and that silence told her what she needed to know.

Her time with Mitchell would come to an end. When, she wasn't sure, but it would. She was doing the right thing by going after her dream so she'd have something meaningful to hang on to when she found herself alone again. But they had tonight. They had the here and now, while it lasted.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Mitchell parked the truck across the street from Brandenburg Park with Malarkey in the passenger seat, while Lorenda and her crew of volunteers prepared for a dress rehearsal. With an arm slung out of the window, he watched at a distance to give her some space.

So he wouldn't chase away the parents and destroy her hard work.

Hadn't mattered much to folks that he wasn't responsible for the fire when he was in high school. Hadn't mattered much that there was no evidence that he'd started the two recent fires. He'd still been a hell-raiser, and people thought he was the most likely suspect. Some of them even thought Lorenda was covering for him by blaming an innocent dead man. Cam. A fallen hero. A brother Mitchell loved and missed, and Lorenda's KIA husband.

They wanted Mitchell gone from Red River, and his dad gone from the sheriff's department.

Lot of good telling the truth had done.

The only positive thing to come out of it was the new respect his ailing father seemed to have for Mitchell. His dad had come home from the hospital the day after his episode, and Mitchell, Lorenda, and the boys had spent most evenings over at his parents' house.

The late-afternoon breeze rustled Lorenda's long, silky hair, and she hooked an index finger around a stray lock to brush it away from her face. She was so gorgeous it took his breath away.

She'd told him she loved him.

And he'd been too chickenshit to say it back. Why, he wasn't sure. She'd torn down every barrier he had. Every wall he'd constructed to block out the pain of his past.

She'd saved him in every way possible, and he couldn't tell her he loved her.

Even though he did.

Jaycee and Trevor bounded over and piled into the truck with him, and Malarkey jumped all over them.

"Can you teach us how to drive, Uncle Mitch?" Trevor's voice was so loud it seemed to echo.

"Your mom would ground all three of us." Mitchell tousled Trevor's hair.

"She's busy. She won't even know," Trevor's said with a little pout.

Sounded exactly like what Mitchell would've said at that age. Which was kind of scary.

Lorenda's crew bustled around the park. Lorenda set up chairs and music stands under the gazebo, and the rest of the crew lined up white folding chairs for the audience. Lorenda stopped what she was doing, pointed, and the crew started rearranging them.

Mitchell chuckled. His sexy, passive wife was becoming quite the commander in chief.

A few parents settled into the audience chairs to watch the dress rehearsal. Only a handful of kids took their seats under the gazebo.

Huh. That wasn't even half of the kids who had been in the gym last week.

Lorenda turned toward the audience, and Mitchell caught the deep frown on her face. She glanced at her watch and then took her place in front of the kids, raised her conductor's baton, and they started to play.

They weren't half bad, considering the on-again-off-again conditions they'd had to practice under, and now it looked like fewer than half of the kids had shown up for the dress rehearsal. They ran through four songs. Everyone clapped. As Lorenda stepped out of the gazebo to reach for a sheet of paper Dylan was trying to hand her, a skinny, stringy-haired guy came out of nowhere.

It was just like it had been that first day in the park. Time slowed as Mitchell processed what was happening. The same guy who had mugged Lorenda in the park sprinted toward her again. At a dead run, he clotheslined her with an outstretched arm.

Mitchell was out of the truck and running before Lorenda hit the ground. The kid didn't stand a chance. Mitchell was on him within seconds and had him pinned against the grass.

"Ah!" the kid yelled. "You weren't supposed to be here." He struggled against Mitchell's weight.

"Too bad for you I am. Who told you I wasn't going to be here?"

The mugger didn't say anything, so Mitchell tightened his hold on the kid's arms.

"Come on, man! I wasn't trying to hurt her. I was just supposed to scare her." The mugger turned his head so Mitchell could see his pasty white skin. A greasy film covered his face.

He was an addict needing a fix.

Mitchell had seen it so many times in the impoverished villages scattered around Afghanistan. Had seen soldiers break under the pressure and turn to drugs, only to become criminals themselves in order to support their habits.

Mitchell looked around for a way to secure the mugger so he could check on Lorenda. A crowd had gathered around her. They helped her to her feet and sat her in a chair. When he saw Lorenda hug Jaycee and Trevor, who'd run over to see their mom, Mitchell's eyes slid shut for a beat in relief.

"Jaycee! Trevor!" Mitchell yelled. "Over here."

They came running, and Dylan followed them.

"Jesus," Dylan said. "Who is this prick?"

"No idea, but it's time to find out." Mitchell hitched his chin up at the boys. "Remember how I said those survivalist bracelets might come in handy one day? Well, today's the day. Unwind both of them for me."

Jaycee's was unwound first, and Mitchell used it to secure the mugger's hands. Trevor's bound the mugger's feet.

"Now go back to your mom and stay with her." They did as they were told. "Dylan, stay here in case I need help." Mitchell pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed the sheriff's office number. Maureen answered on the first ring. "Tell whoever is working Red River for my dad to get over to Brandenburg Park. The same mugger attacked Lorenda again. We got him." The kid struggled again, and Mitchell dug his knee into the kid's back.

"Ow!" he yelped. "Police brutality!"

"I'm not the police, dumbass," Mitchell said.

"I'm a witness," said Dylan. "I haven't seen any brutality."

"You're lucky I haven't broken your jaw for hurting my wife." Mitchell cinched the rope around the kid's hands tighter. "The only reason I haven't is because I need you to be able to talk and tell us who's behind this."

"I got nothing to say without a lawyer," the kid snapped, and Mitchell put his hand on the back of the kid's head and pushed his cheek into the grass.

In the distance a siren blared to life.

"That hurts." The kid struggled more against Mitchell's weight.

"Oh, you'll tell me what I want to know," Mitchell promised.

"What are you gonna do? Beat me?" the kid spat.

Mitchell laughed for real. "Won't need to. You're a repeat offender. They'll hold you without bail this time." Mitchell had no idea if that was true, but it seemed like a good place to start. "You won't be able to get out and get your next fix."

The siren got louder, then a state trooper pulled around the corner and skidded to a halt at the edge of the park. Dylan waved both hands in the air, flagging him down.

"I'll call a lawyer!" the mugger growled.

"Go ahead. The only lawyer in town is my wife's good friend. You can call a lawyer from another town, but the wheels of justice tend to move slowly in these parts. By the time you get anywhere you'll be jonesing so bad you'll be crying for your mommy. But if you talk, maybe the authorities can get you some medication to help with the withdrawals."

When the trooper got there, Mitchell pulled the mugger to his feet and handed him off.

"Nice work." The trooper looked at the ropes.

"I'll be at the station as soon as I check on my wife."

The trooper unbound the kid's feet and hauled him to the car.

First Mitchell wanted to check on Lorenda. Then he was going to get that kid to give up the information they needed to catch whoever was behind this.

Lorenda still hadn't completely caught her breath by the time Mitchell got to her. The mommy mafia formed a tight circle around her, and the parents and kids were like an outer shell. Just like that first day in the park, Mitchell had tackled her mugger to the ground and held him there until the police arrived.

He weaved through the crowd toward her, and her anxiety faded a little more with each step.

"Back up and give her some room, folks." He knelt in front of her-face grim, body sexy. Her breathing sped up again.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded, her hand on her chest. "I think so."

His brow wrinkled.

"Yes, I'm fine. Stop worrying." She tried to put on a brave smile. Didn't work because the creases above his forehead deepened.

One of his large hands rubbed the length of her thigh. "I'm always going to worry about you." His tone wavered. So small, so fleeting, it was undetectable to the untrained ear. But Lorenda knew pitch from years of music lessons, and a hint of apology or regret or self-reproach twined its way through his words. He couldn't meet her gaze. "Maybe we should go to Doc Holloway's office and have him look at you."

"That's what I said," Angelique spoke up.

Lorenda shook her head. "I've got to keep working with the kids. The concert is in a few days."

"I'm sorry, Lorenda," one of the moms said. "I've kept my daughter in the program because he"-she glanced at Mitchell-"because I felt the gym was secure. Now I'm not so sure."

"That's right," a dad said. "A lot of parents pulled their kids again the past week, because of the, uh, controversy in your life." His gaze slid to Mitchell for a moment. "I've let my son stay in your little band because he loves the trombone, but I can't keep putting him in dangerous situations."

"That's why half the kids aren't here today?" Mitchell asked her. "Because of me? Their parents have been pulling them out even though I've stayed out of the gym?"

She hadn't told him. Didn't want him to blame himself and shoulder the responsibility like he always did. His look told her that was exactly what he was doing. A seed of sorrow sprouted in her heart.

"Mitchell." With her hand, she covered his, which still scanned up and down the length of her thigh. "Stop it. This isn't your fault."

"Dangerous situations seem to follow you two everywhere." This from another mom. "I'm pulling my kid too."

"Wait, you can't possibly blame Mitchell for this. He caught the guy." Lorenda saw her dream slipping away again. "I understand your concerns, but I've done everything I can to make this work for you and your kids. I've opened rehearsals to the parents." And had turned to Bart for help, even knowing how Mitchell felt about him. "Please. We're so close. Don't deprive your kids of this chance."

A few grumbles and murmurs floated through the crowd, but most parents turned and walked away with an "I'm sorry" or a "forget it."

"Well, that bites," said Ella.

Tears stung the back of Lorenda's eyes. She choked them down as she watched her dream walk away. "You guys have done enough," she said to her friends. "I can handle it from here." Because there wasn't much left to handle.

"You sure?" asked Miranda.

Lorenda nodded.

"We promised Joe we'd stop in for a guest musician who is playing tonight. That's where we'll be if you need us." Miranda gave her a hug, and the mommy mafia left.

When she looked at Mitchell, she couldn't help it, a tear streamed down her cheek, and she swiped it away. "No sense in me trying to go back to college if this is what I can expect."

"I'm sorry." He pulled her into his arms and placed a kiss in her hair.