(Dream Man 03) Law Man (5 page)

“Lots of kinds,” he answered.

“He’s all those,” I answered too.

He studied me. Then he muttered, “Shit.”

I took in a breath, put minor pressure on my hands at his chest and whispered carefully, “Mitch, I really need to get to the kids.”

He studied me again. Then he said, “Right.”

Finally he let me go and stepped down another step. Again I felt that crush of disappointment at the same time I felt relief.

I felt these for about half a second. Then his hand curled around mine and he tugged me down the stairs toward his SUV.

I followed because if I didn’t, the determined way he was moving, I knew he’d start dragging me.

“Um… Mitch?” I called, he lifted his other hand and I saw the lights and heard the beep of his locks opening on his SUV.

Oh boy.

“Mitch?” I called again as he led me to the passenger side.

He didn’t answer. He pulled me around the door and opened it.

“Uh… Mitch,” I said again and he used his hand in mine to maneuver me into the door.

Then he spoke.

“Climb up.”

I twisted to look up at him. “But, I –”

Mitch cut me off, “Climb up.”

“I think that I –”

Suddenly he was in my space and there wasn’t a lot of it seeing as he was a big guy and we were wedged between his truck and the door. I had to put my hands up again in an automatic effort to fend him off. But they only made it to his (rock hard, by the way) abs before his face was all I could see and my body, heart and lungs all stilled as I stared into his eyes.

“Mara, climb… the fuck… up.”

Oh
boy
.

I was in trouble and I was in trouble because Detective Mitch Lawson, close, pissed off and bossy was
hot.

“I can take care of this on my own,” I assured him. “I’ve done it before.”

“I’m a cop,” he announced suddenly.

“I know,” I told him.

“I know you know. What you might not know is I’ve been a cop a long time. That means I know all the kinds of messes people can be. You’re not a cop,” he informed me. “So, you tellin’ me your cousin is all the kinds of messes
you
know means he’s probably all the kinds of messes
I
know and there is no fuckin’ way I’m lettin’ you get in your car and drive into a mess. Now, Mara, climb… the… fuck…
up.
”

“Okay,” I agreed instantly because close, pissed off, bossy Detective Mitch Lawson was also pretty freaking scary.

He slammed the door behind me. I buckled up as he rounded the hood and swung up beside me. He’d backed out and we were motoring forward when he spoke again.

“Where are we goin’?”

“The Stop ‘n’ Go on Zuni.”

Mitch nodded and guided us through the complex.

Mitch and I lived in a middle income apartment complex east of Colorado Boulevard. It had a fantastic pool, clubhouse and gym. All of the people who rented units in our complex, along with all of the people who owned the built very close together, middle income homes in the gated community across the street, used these as an added benefit to their HOA.

Our complex was known throughout Denver as the singles hotspot of apartment complexes and I had to admit, it was kind of the truth. Rent was high enough to keep out the riffraff. Everyone who lived there was a professional working their way up the ladder or someone who did pretty well at whatever their job was and got paid pretty well to do it. The complex was attractive, attractively laid out and attractively landscaped. It was a haven for the active suburban single. The greenbelt and creek had jogging-slash-bike trails, plus stations where they had sturdy equipment that you could do decline sit ups, pull ups and stuff like that. The pool had a gorgeous, nearly unfettered view of the Front Range. It also had two hot tubs, the clubhouse bar was close and you could drink around the pool. All highly conducive to the singles scene.

Since what normally happened was that you hooked up with someone while in the apartment complex (as B and B and LaTanya and Derek did), lived with them there then moved to the housing development across the street when you got married, the community was also kind of incestuous. If you lived there long enough, everyone knew you and you knew everyone.

I didn’t move there to be a single in a singles nirvana. I moved there because I liked the look of the place. It was quiet, close to the mall and downtown, the apartments were spacious and the units had lots of green space between them. I also moved there because I loved pools and had a freakish need to be tan for as long as I possibly could be, weather permitting. Me tan slid me up to a Three Point Five, or at least I fancied it did.

“You wanna tell me what we’re walkin’ into here?” Mitch broke into my thoughts to ask a pertinent question.

“My cousin’s name is Bill,” I answered. “And he has a nine year old son and a six year old daughter and their names are Billy and Billie. Billy, the boy, with a ‘y’ and Billie, the girl, with an ‘ie’.”

I felt Mitch’s eyes on me before I felt them leave me and he flipped on the turn signal.

“You aren’t laughing,” he remarked after he’d turned out of the complex and I’d said no more.

“I’m not laughing because it isn’t funny and it isn’t funny because I’m not joking,” I replied.

“Shit,” he muttered, already knowing exactly what kind of mess Bill was.

And Mitch was right. Bill, Billy and Billie’s names said it all.

“Anyway, Bill isn’t a great Dad so occasionally Billy packs up Billie and they run away. They usually don’t go very far and once they get there, they talk someone into calling me. I go get them. We have a chat. I get them food because their Dad doesn’t remember to feed them. I take them back to their Dad. Then I have a chat with Bill, leave and come home.”

This was most of it, not all of it. I didn’t share that every time I left, I considered kidnapping my cousin’s kids. I also considered a phone call to Child Protective Services. And lately, I considered that I lamented the fact that I hadn’t kicked their drunk, stupid, lame Dad’s ass before I left.

“So they ran away, they’re at the Stop ‘n’ Go and they called you,” Mitch deduced.

“Yep.”

“Where’s their Mom?”

“Moms, plural and they’re both long gone.”

Mitch had no reply to that.

I decided since he’d been pretty angry and I wasn’t certain if he was still angry but I was guessing he was that I would share a little more. Maybe being forthcoming would shear the edge of his anger.

“They have no family in Denver and Bill is my only family here so I’m their only family here. That’s why they call me.”

“That isn’t why they call you,” Mitch returned immediately and I turned my head to look at him.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“That isn’t why they call you,” Mitch repeated.

“I heard what you said,” I told him. “I just don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, you’re a brother and sister with two different Moms, both who took off, a Dad that’s such a mess at nine years old you’re runnin’ away and your Dad’s cousin is a woman whose smile lights up her whole face and her laugh ignites a room, you want that in your life. So you run away and call her in hopes that she’s gonna give you that light and warmth to fill your life.”

I stared at his profile as he drove and I felt my heart beating in my throat but my stomach had clenched so hard I found I couldn’t breathe.

I didn’t recall ever smiling at him, not a real, unabashed smile and I definitely never laughed around him.

“I’ve never laughed around you,” I blurted stupidly.

He glanced at me then back at the road before saying, “Sweetheart, you’re with Brent and Bradon or LaTanya and Derek, I can hear it through the walls.”

Ohmigod!

“So you’re saying I have a loud laugh,” I noted.

“No,” he said with what sounded like extreme patience. “What I’m sayin’ is you have a gorgeous laugh. I’ve heard it. I like it.”

Ohmigod!

That couldn’t true. He was just being nice and since I couldn’t deal with him being nice…
er
we needed to move on.

“My smile doesn’t light up my whole face. It’s wonky,” I informed him.

“It isn’t wonky.”

“It is.”

“Mara, it isn’t. You don’t smile at me like you mean it because you’re always too freaked out to let yourself go. But I’ve seen you at Derek and LaTanya’s smiling like you mean it. I’ll take your smiles even when you don’t let yourself go because they work really fuckin’ well. But I’ll tell you, when you let yourself go, they’re fuckin’ fantastic.”

I forced my eyes to look ahead and I forced my brain to find an explanation for this madness.

“You’re just being nice,” I whispered.

“I’m a nice guy,” he agreed. “But I’m not bein’ nice. I’m bein’ real. And now what I’d like to know is why every time I give you a compliment, you freak out and twist it into something bad.”

“I don’t do that,” I denied.

“I told you, you had good taste in music and you immediately jumped to the conclusion that it annoyed me because you played it too loud. How do you go from someone saying you have good taste in music to it being a complaint about you playin’ it too loud?”

I had to admit that sounded absurd.

“Um…” I mumbled.

“Same with your laugh. I say I like it, you take it as me sayin’ it’s too loud.”

He needed to quit talking.

“You need to quit talking,” I blurted and wished I could clap my hands over my mouth because I sounded like a fool.

I should have lied to him earlier. I should have kicked him in the shin and run away. I shouldn’t be in his SUV with him. I shouldn’t be anywhere near him.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I bet you need that.”

My head jerked to face him. “What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he asked, “Why’d you stand me up on Sunday?”

Uh-oh.

“I didn’t stand you up.”

He glanced at me again and I felt his anger, which had dissipated, start to fill the cab again.

He looked back to the road and said, “Mara, we had plans. Pizza at seven thirty.”

I looked back to the road too and said, “I don’t really want to talk about this.”

“Yeah, I bet you need that too.”

I ignored what he said and told him, “I need to focus on what I’m going to do with Billy and Billie and what I’m going to say to Bill.”

“Yeah, I know, you need that too. You need to focus on anything other than what’s goin’ on with
you.
”

I fought back the urge to clamp my hands over my ears and chant “la la la” and decided to stay silent.

“Why’d you stand me up?” he repeated into the void.

“I didn’t. You said you were coming over but I didn’t agree.”

“You stood me up.”

“I didn’t.”

“Mara you did and you did it, essentially, twice.”

My head jerked to face him again and I snapped, “No, I didn’t!”

He shook his head and muttered, “Jesus, you got your head so far up your ass it’s a wonder you can breathe.”

“Pardon?” I hissed.

“You heard me.”

“Yes,” I bit out. “I did and what you said was not very nice.”

“No, baby, it wasn’t but it
was
the fuckin’ truth.”

Was I sitting in Detective Mitch Lawson’s SUV fighting with him? Two Point Fives didn’t fight with Ten Point Fives. It was against all the laws of the universe. How did this happen?

“I don’t have my head up my ass!” I snapped somewhat loudly.

“You live in a whole different world,” he retorted.

“Do not!”

“Oh yeah, sweetheart, you do.”

I crossed my arms on my chest, looked forward and announced, “Well I’m glad to know you can be a jerk. It’s easier to deal with a hot guy who’s a jerk than it is to deal with one who’s unnaturally nice.”

Of course I sounded like a fool but I didn’t care. I always sounded like a fool and anyway, he’d told me I had my head up my ass. What did I care that he thought I was a fool?

“Finally, I’m getting somewhere,” Mitch returned. “All I gotta do is be a dick to you, you let go and a little of that Mara Light shines through. What now, Mara? I keep bein’ a dick to you, you let me get my hands down your pants and the only way I can keep that privilege is continue to treat you like shit? Then eventually you’ll kick me to the curb and it’s a self-fulfilling prophesy that all men are dicks? Is that how it goes so you can retreat into that cocoon you’ve built around you and rest safe in the knowledge that you’re makin’ all the right moves?”

My head swung to face him again. I was breathing heavily because he was, indeed, being a dick
and
he’d intimated he wanted to get his hands down my pants, which was insane.