Facing It (20 page)

“Finally, when we were ready to make our move, it was pretty much based on something she’d told Calvert. We raided the brothel during a major drug transaction. Arrested the big guys, played like we were arresting Tick too. The thing was, it didn’t take much for the brothers to figure out where our info had come from. Calvert wanted Tessa safe. She was mad as hell, tried to refuse protection, but we talked her into it.”

He retreated into silence and Jennifer lifted her head to look at him. The worst was yet to come. She knew it as surely as she knew he had a cute pair of dimples at the base of his spine. “What happened?”

“They put a hit out on her. Got to her before we could finish our plans to move her to a safe location.” A deep shudder ran through him. “I have never seen…it wasn’t pretty. She didn’t die an easy death.”

“I’m sorry.” She rubbed a comforting hand down his arm.

He shrugged. “So am I.”

It made sense, then, Calvert’s initial reluctance to trust them to help his sister. He knew firsthand how everything could go pear-shaped in the wrong circumstances. Jennifer brushed her hair, tossed by the light breeze, away from her face.

She only hoped her instincts about Chason proved to be completely off base.

Because if they were right…something whispered there would be hell to pay.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve seen you in uniform.” Ruthie’s voice washed over Chris and sent his heart racing, as much from surprise as a too-intense elation. He straightened from checking the air in his unit tires. Across the hood of the car, she graced him with a cheeky grin. Ainsley clung to her mother’s hand and smiled at him shyly. “I think I like it.”

“What are you doing here?” His neck heated as he heard the words leave his lips. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” She smoothed a loose hank of hair behind her ear. The red sweater she wore with jeans set off her dark prettiness and made her glow like some rich, rare jewel under the watery sun. He hadn’t seen her since Sunday night, had indulged in just a couple of short phone calls, and the hunger to have her close pulsed to life in him, scary and intense as always. “I had some errands to run before I collect Camille and John Robert from school. I saw you and thought I’d stop to say hi.”

“I’m glad you did.” Pleasure warmed him. He tossed the tire gauge on the passenger seat and gestured over his shoulder. “I’ve got about a half hour before I sign on. You want to grab a coffee or something?”

“I’d love it.” Her eyes gleamed. She ruffled the ends of Ainsley’s dark hair. “What do you say, Ains? Want to spend some time with Chris?”

Biting her lip, Ainsley darted an excited glance at the car. “Is the puppy coming?”

“Not today. He’s at the vet, getting a checkup and a good grooming.” At his words, disappointment flickered across her little face, and affectionate laughter rumbled up from his chest. “Come on, Ains. The coffee shop does hot chocolate, although it’s not nearly as good as your mama’s.”

With Ainsley’s small hands tucked into his and Ruthie’s, they crossed the courthouse alley and made their way toward the coffee house on the corner. Ruthie’s gaze traced over him, palpable as a touch, and he could taste her mouth under his again, feel the way her fingers had tightened around his. Ainsley skipped between them, and Ruthie leaned closer over her head to murmur, “I meant what I said about liking the uniform. You’re very dashing in it.”

“Thanks.” He slanted a wry grin in her direction and found himself whispering as well, conscious of little ears. He’d been right about the chaperone idea—it kept them, or at least him, in check. “You look beautiful, but you always do.”

At the corner, Ainsley tugged free to ooh and ahh over the pansies still blooming in the concrete planters before the historic building housing the coffee shop and adjacent bookstore. Ruthie caught his hand and took a step closer. “You don’t know how badly I want to kiss you.”

He stared into eyes deep and dark enough to lose himself in. “I have a pretty good idea. Probably as much as I want to kiss you.”

Devilry sparkled in her brown gaze. “So how much trouble would you get in if I planted one on you, right here, right now?”

“Considering the county commission chairman’s wife is standing down the sidewalk watching every move we make as we speak? Probably a lot, just as soon as she called the sheriff. Kissing you would be worth every second, though.” He tilted his head toward Ainsley. “But us liplocking in front of Ains? Not a good idea.”

“No.” Her eyes dimming slightly, she cast a look at her daughter. “She’s already picking new and improved daddies out of Mama’s JCPenney catalog. I don’t think we need to add fuel to that fire.”

“She—they—will be fine.” He smoothed his thumb over her wrist. “Listen, when I was in the third grade, I spent half the year trying to convince Miss Hazelhurst, my teacher, that she wanted to be my new mom.”

Ruthie’s mouth curved, although her eyes remained solemn. “Did it work?”

“No. Probably a good thing too, since she had something like six cats and my dad was allergic.” He maintained a straight face with serious effort. “Not to mention she had to be seventy if she was a day.”

The genuine quality of Ruthie’s laughter melted into him. Her gaze traveled to Ainsley once more. “I worry about them, about what I let their lives be and if I acted soon enough—”

“Ruthie.” He curved his palm to align with hers, nosy chairman’s wife or not. “They’ll be fine in the long run. I won’t lie and say it will be easy, but you’re a damn good mother and you have resources.”

She brought his knuckles to her lips, her breath puffing over his skin. “You have the best way of doing that, of making me believe everything will be all right.”

“Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and I’m going to forget that public kissing in front of the kid is a bad idea.”

Small fingers wound into the fabric of his slacks and tugged. Startled, he dropped his gaze to tangle with Ainsley’s curious one. She rested one hand on her hip and looked up at him. He swallowed a surprised laugh. He’d seen that same body language and expression on her Aunt Tori a time or two. “Are you a daddy?”

Ruthie’s strangled gasp rang in his ears. “Ainsley—”

He shook his head on a quelling look at Ruthie and squatted, eye to eye with the three-year-old. “Only if being the puppy’s daddy counts.”

“Uh-uh.” She tossed her chin side to side in an exaggerated negative, glossy pigtails bouncing. “Do you want to be a daddy?”

The reality that getting in over his head with Ruthie meant affecting more lives than his or her own sank in all over again. He tapped his fingers against his thigh and pretended to consider her transparent inquiry. “Looking for a new daddy, are you?”

“Yes.” She bobbed her head, a desperate eagerness glinting in her eyes. “Camille wants one too. A nice one.”

He could feel the tension radiating off Ruthie without looking up at her. “You know, Ains, when you’re in the market for a dad, you have to take your time, make sure you get exactly the right one—”

“We’ve already had the wrong one.”

The breath whooshed out of him. Damn, he’d negotiated violent arrests less complicated. He wet his lips. “When I was really little, my mother went away, and it was just me and my dad. I spent a lot of time looking for a new mom, and I never found the right one.”

“Grandma’s book has mommies in it too. You could pick one from there.”

He wasn’t going to laugh, not when he understood only too well how deadly serious this conversation was. “I’m a little old for a new mommy now. But you know what I figured out when I got older, about looking for a mom?”

She shook her head, eyes solemn.

“I realized that all that time I spent wishing for a great new mom, I could have spent with the great dad I already had. Maybe…” He chucked her chin and she giggled. “Maybe if you just enjoy being with your mama and your grandma, then the new-daddy thing will take care of itself.”

She stared at him a moment, then shifted her gaze to Ruthie’s. “Can I have hot chocolate now?”

“Most definitely.” Ruthie extended a hand and Ainsley wrapped their fingers together. Chris held the door for them. As she passed through, Ruthie touched a finger to his chest.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anytime.”

She paused, her eyes full of sadness and hot promises all at the same time. “When I get you alone, Chris Parker, I’m going to kiss you senseless.”

Hell, he was beginning to think letting her turn him stupid with her kisses might not be a bad thing. “Looking forward to it, Ruth Ann Calvert.”

“Lucy, you’ve got some ’splainin’ to do. What have you got to say for yourself?”

Chris opened his locker and masked the desire to chuckle with a long-suffering expression. “Troy Lee, anyone ever tell you that you watch too much television?”

“Late nights up with the baby.” Troy Lee propped an elbow on his adjacent locker and smacked Chris in the chest. Voices echoed from the hallway outside the officer’s locker room. “Spill it, man.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He shrugged out of his uniform shirt and draped it on the locker hook.

“The brunette. You know, the one you were making eyes at in front of the coffee house.”

Shit. He swallowed a sigh and tugged his vest from the locker. “Nothing to spill. We’re friends.”

“Yeah, like Angel and I are friends.” A broad grin displayed Troy Lee’s white teeth. He punched Chris’s shoulder. “This is great.”

He struggled into the vest and closed the hook-and-loop straps, making sure the fit was snug and tight with no gaps. “Why is that, Troy Lee?”

“Because if you’re getting that close to a woman, it means you’re facing your issues.”

Anger sizzled under his skin. Issues. Hell. Where had that come from? He jerked his shirt from the hook and stabbed his arms into the sleeves. “I don’t have issues.”

Troy Lee snorted. “Sure you don’t.”

He buttoned up and shoved his shirttail in, irritation making him clumsy. “Just what issues do you think I have?”

“Hey, man, you missed the back. Let me help you with that.” Troy Lee grabbed the rear of his waistband, gun belt and all.

“What the…” His voice emerged a surprised yelp and he elbowed in Troy Lee’s direction. “Get the hell off me.”

Instead, Troy Lee used the leverage to shift them so Chris’s back hit the lockers. Grinning even wider, Troy Lee bracketed Chris’s head with his hands and leaned in, their eyes inches apart. “Let’s talk about your issues.”

“Troy Lee, what the fuck?”

“Does it bother you to have me this close?”

“It pisses me off.” Chris looked sideways at the hall. “Next you thing you know, someone will see this and then everyone’s gonna be saying I’m your bitch.”

“Nah, most of them think I’m yours on the down-low,” Troy Lee drawled. “The stupid ones who can’t see that you’re about as gay as I am. But no tension, no jumpiness?”

“No.” Only if the urge to kill him for being stupid counted. “This is freakin’ dumb, Troy Lee. What—?”

“Stay here a sec then and I’ll go get Deb out of dispatch. Or even better, Falconetti’s upstairs talking to Calvert. Let’s see how you react to her this close—”

“Fuck, no.” He didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like Troy Lee—make that
anyone
—having this much insight into how his brain worked. He flattened his palms against Troy Lee’s chest and shoved. “Fine, you made your point. I have issues with women in my personal space, okay? Now get off me.”

Undisturbed by the animosity, Troy Lee levered away. “But this is good, see? If you can get close to her, especially the way you were looking at her, then you’re dealing with the mess.”

“You know, if I wanted a fucking therapist, I’d go hire one.” He slammed his locker harder than necessary. “But thanks a lot for your opinion.”

Troy Lee lounged against the lockers next to him once more. “Hell, I thought for a split second you had. Then I realized it wasn’t Tori, although she looks just like her, and that you weren’t being stupid enough to scam on Cookie’s woman—”

“Troy Lee.” He rested his forehead on the locker with a weary sigh. “Shut up.”

“You know what stasis means?”

“What?” He should have known Troy Lee would just ignore him and keep talking.

“It’s kinda like being suspended, like holding a note in music that doesn’t change.”

“Fascinating, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Chris, man, you’ve been in stasis the whole time I’ve known you. Kind of in the same place, not going anywhere, not changing. The fact you’re moving out of that with this woman? It’s fantastic.”

The memory of Ruthie’s shining eyes, the sweet way her touch made him feel shivered over him. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

Troy Lee landed another guy-to-guy punch on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go to work.”

Surrounded by the soothing normalcy of his radio crackling, Chris swung the unit onto Durham Street and played the spotlight over the deserted IGA parking lot. Back on the job, back in the groove, he felt more like himself.

A self-derisive grin played around his mouth as he turned in behind the chicken joint. A couple of feral cats froze in the act of raiding the dumpster out back, their eyes glowing in the harsh glare of his spot. Ruthie’s promise to kiss him senseless echoed in his head, and all he could think about was how soon he could let her get him alone.

He liked the way she made him feel—alive, stable, normal. They carefully avoided talking about the future and he was grateful for that. It was too soon. Time enough for that once her divorce was final, once he finally found a way to tell her about Kimberly. Right now, being together, growing closer, learning more about one another was almost enough.

Almost. His grin widening, he swung the light over the windows of the upholstery shop and the adjacent insurance agency. Enough would be finding some way to salve the unbearable urge he had to touch her. Taking her hand or arm as they walked, stealing the occasional very chaste kiss wasn’t nearly enough.

He wanted more. He wanted everything she had to give him, even if the intense way he wanted everything still scared him. He was going to have to deal with it, though. She was too important not to face the fear.

Another Chandler patrol car sat in the Rite Aid parking lot and he pulled in, easing to a stop, facing the opposite direction. He lowered his window. Slumped in the other car’s driver’s seat, Troy Lee rested his wrist on the steering wheel and flashed him a grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He fiddled with the air-conditioning vents, turning the flow onto Hound, snoozing in the backseat.