Page 27 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)
“Oh, um, I’m sorry for barging in on you. I—I thought you’d still be in bed.” Julia set the tray on a dresser. “Oh, um, I’ll bring you some clean clothes.” She paused for a moment. “Oh, um, you didn’t get your stitches wet, did you?”
“No, ma’am.” His voice reflected his amusement.
“Oh, um, okay. Give me a minute.” She hastily backed out of the open doorway.
Dear God! She’d need more than a minute to compose herself after seeing Miguel’s lean and muscular body draped only in a towel. She couldn’t believe she sounded like an innocent schoolgirl who’d never seen a half-naked man.
“ Oh, um ?” Julia muttered as she chose a comfortable pair of sweatpants, T-shirt, and—oh, God—boxers for Miguel. “How immature!”
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she entered the bedroom through the adjoining bathroom.
Miguel perched on the edge of the bed. Naughty thoughts crowded into her mind.
If he weren’t ill, she’d push him back, yank that towel from his waist, and make love to him.
A rush of desire hit her so hard that a flush crept into her face and heat settled in her core.
Julia tamped down the images she conjured and set Miguel’s clothes within arm’s reach.
She didn’t dare get too close to him. And not because of Covid.
Julia wondered if Miguel could read her thoughts and her turbulent reaction to him.
“I’ll get dressed in the bathroom.” He glanced at the tray of food. “You’d better eat your eggs and toast before they get too cold.”
“Yes, okay. I will.”
Julia carried her plate and cup of coffee to an old-fashioned wooden rocker by a window that overlooked the Pacific Ocean.
A small accent table with three legs and covered in a light blue tablecloth provided support for her plate and coffee.
She ate her eggs and a piece of toast and sipped her coffee while she gazed at the marvelous view below her.
Miguel joined her, and she turned her head toward him. He’d dried his hair, and except for the paleness of his face, one would not suspect he was sick. He stood strong and upright.
“Jules, I am not immune nor indifferent to you. When I claimed you as my woman, I meant it. But—but I need to know if you want to be claimed like that…by me. If you think I’m a man who’s worth it.”
Unexpected tears burned in Julia’s eyes. Miguel’s humble and vulnerable confession struck her to the core of her soul. Did she want to be claimed by him? Yes. Did she think he was a man worth it? Yes.
“Miguel…my answer is yes. But I have to know if…if you’re ready and able to open your incredible heart to…to me. To…to the possibility of love…”
There. She’d said it. The dreaded L word. She knew she’d risk her heart to love Miguel. Would he risk his?
Their gazes met, locked, and held.
Miguel’s countenance softened into an expression of wonder. “I’m ready. I already have. And if I weren’t sick, I’d prove it to you.” Desire flared in his eyes. “But right now, I think I’d better lie down. I feel woozy.”
Julia leaped to her feet and helped him into bed. He propped himself up against the headboard. She placed the tray of soup, crackers, and hot tea on his lap and encouraged him to eat. “You need to get your strength back.”
He flashed a wicked grin. “To pursue more pleasurable activities than chasing Axis and Axalia.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
Miguel fell asleep after he ate. Julia returned their dishes to the kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher. She planned a menu for tonight’s dinner, threw their clothes into the dryer, and stepped outside on the deck to enjoy the early spring weather in Laguna Beach.
Checking her cell phone, Julia discovered text messages from Trey and Tex.
The grisly scene at the hospital had made national news.
Both Trey and Tex had kept her and Miguel’s identities out of the press.
Tex had erased any security camera footage that captured their involvement, along with records of Miguel’s admittance to the hospital, and Trey had used his considerable influence to suppress dogged reporters from digging too deeply.
He had warned them that what occurred was a matter of national security.
But he promised them an exclusive story once he was able to release it.
After she called Trey to describe what had happened and inform him that the only reason why they were still at the hospital was due to Miguel catching Covid, Julia contacted her mother, who’d surely heard the news.
“Julia!” Relief flooded her mother’s voice. “Are you and Miguel safe?”
“Yes. We’re in Laguna Beach with Brielle. Mom, I haven’t seen the news. How bad is it?”
“Sweetheart, it’s bad. Five nurses, three medical technicians, and several patients lost their lives.”
“Oh, God, no. And the men who attacked us?”
“Eight dead. According to information we’ve gleaned, two escaped. We have one in custody who survived being shot. He’s not talking, but his tattoo identifies him as a soldier in General Escobar’s army.”
“Mom, we weren’t supposed to be there, but Miguel contracted Covid.”
“As if being shot wasn’t bad enough. How is he?”
“Weak. Recovering.”
“Julia, the press is clamoring for answers from the Oval Office. President Brown is preparing to make a formal statement this evening at five o’clock Eastern Standard Time. Then, we’re flying to Alabama to meet with the victims’ families.”
Julia’s heart sank. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position, Mom. For interrupting your campaign.”
“None of this is your fault. We’re keeping you and Miguel out of it. Faith Stoker is spinning a suitable and convincing narrative as we speak. Justice, of course, is furious and frustrated that he’s not in control.”
Julia drew a deep breath. “Miguel and I aren’t abandoning this quest. Axis and Axalia and General Escobar need to be stopped.”
“I agree. You do what you must, and I’ll give you whatever support you need.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be watching the press conference tonight.”
“Take care of yourself and Miguel.”
“Will do.”
Miguel was still sleeping soundly when Julia peeked in on him after her conversation with her mother.
She returned to the laundry room, unloaded the dryer, and threw a pile of kids’ clothes into the washer.
She carried the laundry basket up a level to the main floor and dumped the clean clothes onto the sofa.
In the middle of folding them, the doorbell rang.
She froze. Her heart slammed against her chest.
“Calm down,” she muttered. “General Escobar or Axis and Axalia aren’t going to ring the doorbell.”
As she rose to her feet, someone called out, “Julia? Miguel? It’s Special Agent in Charge, Jiena Hutchinson.”
Julia’s heart rate decelerated. “Coming!”
She pulled open the door and gazed with interest at David Hutchinson’s beautiful wife.
Jiena wore a light gray pants suit. Her badge hung on a chain around her neck.
Beneath her blazer, Julia noted her shoulder holster that housed a standard-issued 9 mm Glock.
If the stories Julia had heard about Jiena were true, the FBI agent probably had a wicked knife strapped to her leg.
Jiena’s dark hair hung in a sleek ponytail.
“SAC Hutchinson, it’s nice to finally meet you. Please come in.” Before Julia closed the door, she glanced warily up and down the street.
The agent noticed her apprehension. “No need to worry, Julia. We have eyes on Brielle 24/7. The Andersons and their ally General Escobar would be extremely foolish to come to Laguna Beach. You and Miguel taught them a powerful lesson.” Jiena smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too, by the way.”
“Would you like something to drink? Water, iced tea, or lemonade?”
“Iced tea, please.”
Jiena followed Julia into the kitchen, where she poured two glasses of iced tea, and they slipped into chairs at the table.
“How is Miguel? Trey updated me.”
“Still recovering from being shot, and on top of that, dealing with Covid. He feels responsible for the…massacre at the hospital, and so do I.”
“You’re not. If you and Miguel hadn’t anticipated the attack and prepared for it, you and he might be victims, too.”
Julia’s heart constricted with cold fury. “We should have killed Axis and Axalia as soon as we surprised them at the safe house in Alabama.”
“But we didn’t because we’re not coldblooded killers,” Miguel declared in a raspy voice.
His presence startled them. They turned to see him leaning against the granite countertop.
“Miguel!” Julia exclaimed. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“I couldn’t lie there any longer.” When Jiena half-rose from her chair, probably intending to hug him, he held up a hand. “Don’t get too close to me. Covid.”
“I heard. I’m not afraid,” Jiena assured him, but she sat back down. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. And I’m ready to work on a strategy to get to the Andersons.”