Daring Devotion (10 page)

C
al sat on the back terrace of the elegant mini mansion in the plush suburb neighborhood waiting patiently while the man across from him read his notes. He surveyed the decorative shrubs that surrounded the large in-ground pool some twenty feet from where they sat. He'd been to the house a hundred times in the past year and still marveled that some people lived this way. Especially when the people were as real and down-to-earth as Marty and Cavanaugh.

Of course, Cavanaugh, having been born and bred into this sort of lifestyle, thought nothing of it. Cal still chuckled, remembering how Cavanaugh had described their new home as a nice, family-style home. Maybe if you were raising the Jackson Five, Cal thought.

Finally, Cavanaugh finished reading and pushed the notebook back across the table to his friend. “And you think this Jeff guy is the arsonist?” His dark eyes widened in surprise.

“We've had an outbreak of fires in our district since he arrived, all of them suspicious. Even Noel thinks we have an arsonist in the area.”

“Cal, do you know what you are saying?” Cavanaugh stood and crossed to the open bar. He continued to speak with his back to Cal. “A firefighter turned arsonist…you better be sure you know what you are talking about before you make an accusation like that.” He lifted a small teapot from the warmer and offered it to Cal.

Cal shook his head, rejecting the offer of tea. “I don't have any proof, that's the only reason I haven't said anything. That's why I'm here. I need your help.”

“What kind of help?”

“I can't trust anyone at the firehouse. They all think I'm losing it. I need outside help.”

Cal noticed Cavanaugh's expression had darkened, and knowing exactly what caused that look, he put up a hand in defense. “I know Marty would never betray me, but she might say something to the wrong person by mistake.”

“Not if you tell her not to.”

“Please, Cavanaugh, I would just feel better if no one at the firehouse knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Before I say anything more, I need some assurance. Are you agreeing to help me?”

“I'm not agreeing to anything until I know what you expect of me. I mean, you are asking me to keep secrets from my wife. You have to have a damn good reason to ask something like that of me.”

“How about my life? Is that a good enough reason?”

Cavanaugh came back and sat across from the other man. “You think this man is trying to kill you?”

“I think…that may be a possibility. There's something about the way that guy looks at me.” He shook his head, unable to find the right words. “There is some serious hate in it.”

“But why? He just met you a few months ago.”

“I've been asking myself that same question since I first noticed it. Maybe I met him somewhere before. Maybe I just don't remember him. I don't know, but whatever it is, if I'm not careful, I may not be around to find out.”

Cavanaugh sat quietly contemplating this stunning news. “What do you need from me?”

“Help me find out who this guy really is. All I know is what I have in his personnel file. That just outlines his career. I want to know about him. If I crossed this guy, I don't think it was on the job.”

“That shouldn't be so difficult. I'll ask JJ—you remember the detective Marty had following me?”

“Oh yeah, I had forgotten about him. Thanks man, I appreciate your help.”

“Don't thank me too quickly. I understand how you feel about keeping this quiet, especially considering your suspension and everything. But I'm not hearing anything so far that persuades me to keep this from Marty. She would never betray you. In fact, it may be good to have at least one person in the firehouse you can trust.”

Cal twisted his mouth, wondering how much this decision would hinder his plans. “So, what are you saying? You are going to tell Marty?”

“No. But if she asks I won't lie to her.”

Cal nodded. “That's fair.” He stood to leave. “I really appreciate your help, man.”

As Cavanaugh walked his friend to the door, he wondered over everything he'd been told. He was making plans to call JJ as soon as Cal left. If this Jeff Collins was an arsonist, they needed to know that right away. If he was a threat to Cal, they needed to know that even sooner.

The two men shook hands in the doorway. “Cal,” Cavanaugh called to his friend before he reached his truck parked in the horseshoe driveway. “Just…just watch your back, man.”

Cal smiled and lifted an eyebrow in agreement. “I plan to.”

“Cal…Cal.” Cal could hear the voice calling, but initially resisted. Following the voice meant he would have to leave this place of peace, this place of rest.

“Cal.”

His eyes fluttered involuntarily as he struggled out of the deep slumber.

“Cal.” He opened his eyes, and finally focused on Andrea standing over him. He looked in every direction, trying to get his bearings. He was on the couch in his office at the firehouse. He struggled into a sitting position.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, looking around in confusion.

“That's what I would like to know.”

He looked down at the files strewn across the leather couch. “Must've fallen asleep while I was looking through these files.” He rubbed his eyes, still trying to pull himself out of what felt like a drugged state. He could see a shadow standing behind Andrea, and finally focused on Marty's concerned face.

Andrea followed his eyes. “She told me you were here. Thanks, Marty. Can you leave us alone for a minute?”

With a nod, Marty let herself out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her.

“Cal, what are you doing? If Mack or some other high ranking officer found you here going through these files, they could bring criminal charges—”

“You don't have to read me the code, Andrea.”

“Then what is this all about, Cal?” She held up a handful of files. “Is this more important than us? Because that is what you are jeopardizing, our future!”

He stood and tried to balance himself. Cal had decided not to say anything to Andrea regarding his suspicions until he heard from Cavanaugh. With the suspension and upcoming wedding, and her constant concern for her mother's safety, he felt she had enough to worry about. But now, that path left him with no way to explain his strange behavior.

“Andrea, let's just talk about this at home.”

“No, Cal, I've had enough. It's like you're obsessed with being a fireman!”

He sighed. “This isn't about being a fireman.”

“Then what is it about? Because I do not understand.”

He stood in stony silence. No, she
didn't
understand. How could she? She wasn't the one waking in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. She wasn't the one seeing things that were not there. She wasn't the one losing her mind.

“What do you want me to say, Andrea?” Cal felt his heart twisting inside his chest as the water began to form in her eyes.

“Say…say that you love me more than this firehouse. Say that being my husband is more important than being a fireman.”

Cal gasped at the look of hurt and pain in her eyes.
Where is this coming from?
Up until that moment Cal had not considered how the situation must look to her. After everything they'd gone through in the past few months, the nightmares, the suspension, and now she was finding him sleeping at the firehouse. It was only reasonable she would have doubts about what was important to him.

“Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I love you more than the job.”

“Yeah, sure Cal…whatever.” Andrea shook her head in defeat, turned toward the door, and Cal was suddenly in front of her. He reached out and pulled her hard again his chest. Tilting her head, his mouth sought hers. Gently at first, then with more pressure as he felt her begin to relax in his arms.

He ran his warm tongue across her bottom lip coaxing her to open and she did. Her lips parted and her arms came up around his neck. There was a sudden surge of power coursing through Cal's body. He felt her hesitation and knew she was still angry and did not want to respond, but could no more resist him than he could resist her.

She took a deep breath and pushed against his chest to free herself from his arms. “No, it won't be that easy this time. You can't kiss your way out of this, Cal.” She backed away, and he followed until she found herself pinned against the door.

Cal only stopped when his muscular chest was pressed against her soft breasts, and even then he continued to push gently against her. Wanting her to understand what he could not tell her with words. That there was nothing in the world more important to him that her.

“I love you, Andrea, and that comes before anything else.” He kissed her again, fighting not to overwhelm her with his intense emotions. His lips trailed down the smooth, sweet-smelling skin of her neck. And he paused there, only long enough to run his tongue over a fast thumping vein. Then continued his exploration as his kisses found their way along her collarbone and toward the peek of cleavage just above her thin, low-necked sweater.

“Oh, Cal. What are we going to do?” There was so much anguish in her voice as her small arms came up and wrapped around his head.

“We're going to love each other, and let everything else take care of itself.” His large finger worked the button fly of her jeans with deft precision. He quickly slipped his hands inside the coarse material and her soft, rounded hips.

Unable to stop the building passion, Andrea kissed him on every part of his body, the top of his head, his shoulders, and his arms, anywhere she could reach while wiggling out of the jeans and panties Cal was sliding down her legs.

“No matter what happens, never doubt that I love you,” he whispered against her ear, right before he took her firm thighs in his hands and lifted them around his waist.

His hot mouth latched on to her neck, and all Andrea heard was the sharp unzipping sound, followed by the crinkling of paper, and then he was there, pushing against her wet opening.

Andrea lifted her body wanting to help guide him inside of her. She braced herself on his shoulders and bit her bottom lip to stifle a glorious groan as he entered her. She felt his hands squeezing her bottom as he tightened his hold. With one powerful thrust he lowered her down on his penis, burying himself as deep inside as possible.

Remembering where they were, Andrea sunk her teeth into his shoulder to keep from crying out. This was not the answer to their troubles, intellectually she knew that, but the intense sensation coursing through her entire being as the man she loved stroked her inside had nothing to do with intellect. It was pure animal passion.

Andrea could feel the pressure building, the pinnacle of pleasure within reach. Her breathing became shorter as her pounding heart sped even more. It was almost there…almost. Her mouth fell open as she struggled to breathe, she felt as if she were drowning…

“Hold on, baby,” Cal whispered against her ear, and his hands squeezed her flesh even harder. She gripped his shoulders as he pounded into her body, again and again. Suddenly, she exploded. Her back arched, and a cry of pleasure escaped her mouth. Cal buried his head against her neck, pushed himself deep inside her body once, twice, and then he followed her over the edge.

“A
ll right, everyone, positions!” Marianne Kenton, one of Detroit's most noted wedding planners, clapped her hands loudly. “Positions, everyone!”

The group mingling around the church moved into place as they'd been instructed earlier. All participants in the procession moved outside the large double doors. They paired up in the order most of them had come to memorize.

Three sets of couples, the maid of honor and the best man, followed by two bridesmaids and groomsmen. All dressed in colors similar to those that decorated the small church. Marianne watched the group form with hawklike intensity and satisfaction.

The bride, in her misguided ignorance, had wanted to use the traditional colors of burgundy and white, but it hadn't been hard to bulldoze her into something more unusual. Marianne had wanted iridescent tangerine and deep purple. The pair finally came together on pastel apricot and white.

Of course, most people did not typically have pastel apricot in their wardrobes so the overall effect of the rehearsal was not exactly what she wanted. She also did not like the fact that due to the work schedule of some of the wedding party members they were forced to schedule the rehearsal a week before the wedding. But after fifteen years in the business, Marianne learned to roll with the punches. She'd planned over four hundred weddings in her career with care and precision. Each and every one had been a personal experience. This one was no exception. She silently reminded herself that this was only a rehearsal. The actual ceremony would be perfect.

Pushing her large glasses back up on her nose, the planner looked in every direction, making mental notes of the final touches that needed to be added. The pews were sectioned off with white streamers. Beautiful gladiolas in white and bright orange lined the altar. She took in the other minor details before returning her attention to the group congregating outside the entrance. They were getting restless, and her neat formation was falling apart.

“All right, everyone. We are about to start the march. Remember, Marty and Cavanaugh, once the music starts count to twenty-five before you begin.” She clapped loudly to get everyone's attention once again, glancing back at the organ, she gasped in alarm. “Where's my pianist?”

“Here I am!” called the short, rotund woman rushing back into the sanctuary, while busily tucking her blouse back into her skirt. “Sorry,” she smiled shyly, taking her seat at the bench.

Marianne's eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “Make sure on Sunday you take care of all the essentials
before
the ceremony begins.”

Eyebrows rose, and most took a mental note to remember to empty their bladders before the ceremony on Sunday rather than risk incurring Marianne's wrath.

Marianne gestured to the pianist to begin the wedding march. “All right, Cavanaugh and Marty.” She motioned for the maid of honor and best man to begin moving forward.

The lovely couple leading the procession stepped through the doors and into the church. Both tall and slender, with eyes only for one another, they looked as if they'd walked right off the pages of a fashion magazine. They began down the aisle, moving in rhythm with the music. “Remember, Tommy and Jill, count to twenty-five before stepping in behind them.”

The couple, who were visibly uncomfortable with each other, held their place for several seconds. Suddenly, Jill stepped forward while Tommy remained standing in place.

Tommy yanked hard, using his greater strength to pull his anxious partner back to his side. “
She said
twenty-five,” he hissed.

“I did count to twenty-five,” Jill hissed back, and yanked hard on his arm to set him in motion.

Tommy instinctively pulled back only for a moment, before realizing they were holding up the procession and allowed himself to be pulled forward.

The planner simply shook her head, the couple had been arguing all evening. She could only hope they did not ruin her beautiful wedding. “All right, Dina and Dwight.” She motioned for the third couple.

The third couple stepped through the doors in synchronized steps. Having stood up many times before, they were veterans to the process. After ten years of marriage, their harmonious union needed no synchronization.

Marilyn smiled in approval. This would work, she thought.
Despite
Jill and Tommy, as long as Dina and Dwight brought up the rear, it would work. She watched with pride as the small procession marched steadily down the aisle. Her perfect record of success was in no danger.

At the end of the altar stood Cal, waiting and watching for the woman he loved to appear in the doorway. His heart was in his throat, his palms were clammy, and standing with both feet planted firmly on the ground Cal had the sudden feeling of falling. He felt lightheaded and dizzy and was certain he was about to fall out. Only his determination and pride kept him standing upright.

He felt the bracing hand of his brother Steve touch his sleeve. “You okay?”

Cal nodded brusquely, not wanting to draw any attention to his weakness.

Steve studied his profile silently for several seconds before turning his attention back to the procession.

“All right, Andrea,” Marianne called to the bride, standing just outside view of the double doors.

Andrea stepped through the doorway dressed in a soft, apricot orange dress with a V-neck and tie belt. Her midlength jet-black hair was twisted up in a French roll, and her makeup was minimal, as always. She quickly scanned the front of the church until she found Cal.

Their eyes locked across the empty church. The stress of the past few weeks was written on each face, and they each saw it in the other.

Andrea was staring at the man she knew would always hold her heart, and remembering the wonder and magic of when they'd first met. The world was filled with hope and possibility then…and now, here she was only a week before her wedding, what was supposed to be the happiest time of her life, and she was more confused and unhappy than she had been in months.

The only thing she did know with absolute clarity was that she loved the man. With every drop of blood in her body, she absolutely adored him. But was it enough? Would happy memories be enough to comfort a devastated widow? Would the stirrings of past desire conquer the emptiness of life without him? Was she strong enough to risk it?

Cal could see the doubt and insecurity in Andrea's eyes. But until he fixed the other aspects of his life, his career, his…mind, he did not know what to say to reassure her. He no longer believed everything would be all right, he just didn't know anymore. Nor did he still believe he was absolutely the best thing for her, knowing he may soon be just a broken-down
former
fireman.

All he knew for certain, as he stared deep into her cinnamon-brown eyes, was that this woman was not only the love of his life, she was his anchor, the foundation of his future. And he had to hold it together a little longer…for her.

 

“How is he?” Marty asked quietly. Reaching forward, she used the wooden tongs to pick up a crescent roll.

“Okay, I guess,” Andrea answered softly, neither woman wanting their private conversation to become public. She quickly glanced back over her shoulder at Cal, who was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. She watched as one of their many friends approached him and shook his hand. The two men became engaged in conversation.

“Did he say anything more about the other night?”

“No.” Andrea turned away when she felt herself blushing. She was only now considering that Marty may have heard their lovemaking. She shuffled forward as the buffet line moved along, surveying the offerings. But she wasn't thinking of the wide assortment of foods on display, only of the man who stood a short distance from her.

“Look, I don't know exactly why he was there the other night, but he needs to watch himself while he is on suspension. If someone else would've found him in there he could've got in a lot of trouble.” Marty moved along the line close behind her, speaking close to her ear so no one else could hear.

Andrea's lips pulled into a flat line as she listened in strained silence. She loved Marty like a sister, but she knew in this particular battle Marty was firmly on Cal's side. Her anger stirred as she considered the fact that Marty was probably encouraging Cal to stay with the department.

Nothing had changed in the past week since she'd found Cal sleeping at the firehouse. He was still having nightmares, still doing everything in his power to return to the department, and still refusing to share anything of what he was going through with her. The stress of her life was becoming unbearable, something had to change. Andrea felt like a dry twig in a strong storm, certain that the next big gust of wind would be the one to break her.

She watched as Marty used another pair of tongs to sprinkle a heaping of salad on her plate, and continued moving, completely oblivious to Andrea's private contemplations. “That kind of strange behavior could affect his whole career, not to mention what the shrink would make of it. The department will never let him come back to work without a positive psyche eval. Just tell him to watch himself, we need him back as soon as possible.”

Andrea slanted her friend a narrowed glance. “Since you are so concerned with his career, why don't you tell him yourself?” she spat, before turning and quickly walking away from Marty and the buffet table.

Marty stood with wide eyes and an open mouth, watching Andrea's retreating back.

Luckily, the conversation had not been loud enough for others to hear, so Marty continued to prepare her plate as if nothing had happened. She knew what was wrong. Andrea was afraid, and Marty knew the fear was not without credit. What they did was dangerous, and death was an accepted possibility. Still, she wondered how Cal was ever going to return to the life he loved if the woman he loved would not support his decision and his recovery? At the end of the day, Big Cal was a firefighter, and despite what Andrea believed, he would never be content behind a desk.

“Aren't you going to eat?” Andrea approached him, and offered the plate in her hand.

Cal shook his head slightly. “Maybe, later.” He reached up and rubbed his forehead. “Just wish I could get rid of this damn headache.”

Andrea knew the headache was due to a lack of sleep combined with intense stress. “I have an Advil in my purse.” Even as she offered, Andrea already knew what the answer would be.

“You know I don't take medication.”

“Cal, it's just a pain reliever.”

“I said no!” He closed his eyes tightly.

When he opened them again, Andrea was glaring up at him, and he realized everyone in the hall was staring at them.

“I've had it,” she whispered, and Cal could see the finality of the statement in her eyes. “I just can't do this anymore.”

He knew she was going to run even before she turned away, but somehow he just could not bring his feet to move to stop her. Later he would reflect that some part of him did not want to stop her, the part of him that believed she deserved better than a piece of a man.

He watched as she hurried out of the room. Cal immediately dropped his head not wanting to deal with a room full of shocked expressions. His battered ego had had all the beating it could take. First his mind, then his job, and now his woman…there was nothing left.