Lawmakers (15 page)

“No, I pardoned you,” he answered. “Just don’t reoffend and you’ll be good.”

“Okay, I can do that,” R.J. said.

“No, you can’t.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Go to sleep, Punk.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, and as he walked toward the door he heard her say, “You’re a great kisser too.”

That made him grin, because he didn’t plan to take it back. In fact, he planned to kiss her more times than they could count and some other things. Having Rosalie call him while she was hurt and in pain told him one thing. He couldn’t wait for a perfect time because there wasn’t one. The chase was on, and he had no intention of losing. Rosalie Domino, aka R.J., was about to experience him in a whole new light. He grabbed a beer from her fridge and turned on the TV as he stretched out on her couch.  He was a cop and he was going to get his woman.

* * * *

R.J. woke up with a groan and tried to turn. The pain in her shoulder made her eyes pop open.
Goddamn,
she thought and struggled to sit up. The next thing she heard was voices and they were familiar. Her father, her mother, and Sean were in her living room talking. That couldn’t mean anything good for her. If they were here they found out about her little incident last night.

“Well, that’s just great,” she muttered and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She needed a moment to put her defenses up when it came to her parents. Her father’s disappointed face and her mother’s tears were her undoing. One other thing from the night came rushing back. Sean kissed her. She recalled that clearly. The pain or the drugs weren’t enough to erase that from her memory. His lips and the way he kissed her were seared into her forever.

Wow, was that pent up anger or was it something he was thinking about for a long time?
  They’d have to talk about it but now was not the time. She sighed, got up, and walked slowly to the door like she was heading toward her execution. It was worse than that, it was Anthony and Ramona Domino.

She opened her bedroom door and all eyes turned toward her. R.J. looked from her mother to her father. Anthony Domino was sixty-three but only had a hint of gray in his hair. His dark skin was a little wrinkled, but her father aged well. He was still handsome as ever, and she recalled him coming home from work and giving her piggyback rides to bed. Her mother still had jet-black curls that she now wore cut above her shoulders.  Her Puerto Rican skin was still light brown and smooth. Her mother’s lips trembled when her gaze went to R.J.’s arm in a sling, and tears settled in her eyes
. And so it begins.

“Rosalie, look at you,” her mother said and came over. “You could’ve been killed or worse!”

“What’s worse than being dead, Mom?” R.J. asked.

“You could be raped, tortured, and then be dead,” her father pointed out.

“All from a junkie who didn’t think the court could take his kid but then kidnapped her, leaving her with a stepfather who was going to molest her? Dad, he didn’t have the smarts for that kind of thinking,” R.J. said. She noticed that Sean kept silent and that irritated her all the more.

“That’s a job for the cops, not for you,” her father said.

“I would have been a cop Dad, remember? But you didn’t want a kid on the job like you, and Mom didn’t want to lose her daughter to the NYPD,” R.J. snapped.

“Honey, the NYPD is a harsh place…” her father began.

“Suited for a man. Hell, you act like Sean is your glorified son and me, your real kid, gets a pat on the head,” R.J. said angrily. “What am I supposed to do, stay home and be the happy housewife?”

“Being a private investigator is not an ideal job either,” her father said. “There’s so much a young girl can do.”

“I’m twenty-five, Dad, twenty-five! It’s the only job I could get that encompasses something I love,” R.J. protested. “I’m not your little girl any more. I’m a grown woman, I have sex…”

“You have a boyfriend? Who is it?” her mother clapped her hands.

“Ma, I don’t have a man in my life. I’m trying to make a point.” R.J. threw her one good hand in the air.

“You could be a lawyer, work in the DA’s office,” her father pointed out.

“That’s not a cop, Dad. I’ve wanted to be a cop since I was twelve, and my promise to both of you stomped on my dream.” R.J. felt like crying.  “But I kept it and you’re still not happy. But of course Sean is thirty-four and a man.”

“Whoa, don’t bring me into this.” Sean held up his hands.

“He’s not my kid, you are. I don’t want to see you end up in some alley somewhere dead,” her father said. “You’re our only child we want what’s best for you.”

“Then let me out of the stupid promise I made, let me join the NYPD and have back-up and be the woman I want to be,” R.J. pleaded. “Dad, I still have time and I could make detective by the time I’m thirty or get in the SIU.”

The SIU, or the Special Investigations Unit, was her dream job. She’d spent years building trust with so many confidential informants on the streets. She knew she would be an asset to the team if only her parents would acquiesce and let her out of her promise.

“No,” her mother said firmly. “By the saints, I spent over twenty years worrying about your father and then another ten watching him take on the stress of the NYPD brass. I won’t watch it strip you of all the life you have in you.”

“What life?” R.J. gave a sarcastic laugh. “Being a cop is one of the things that makes me who I am. I can outshoot most of the guys on the force. I know the tests, the books cover-to-cover, and hell, I’m a damn good cop with or without the badge. You don’t want to see the life be stripped away from me? You’re doing it now, both of you are.”

“Rosalie, see it from our point of view and stop being so stubborn,” her mother said.

“Nope, I’m done with this conversation, it’s selfish and y’all are using the word love and my respect of you to be selfish,” R.J. said. “I’m going back to bed.”

“We brought you food and I came to take care of you,” her mother protested.

“Gracias, te amo, mama and papa.”
R.J. didn’t stop her steps. “I can take care of myself though, and I want to be alone. Everyone be gone when I wake up.”

She closed the door to her bedroom and leaned her forehead against the barrier. She could hear them talking beyond the door.

“She is so stubborn, just like you, Anthony,” she heard her mother say.

“Yes, it’s all me and it has nothing to do with the Puerto Rican side of her genetics,” her father said with humor and sadness in his voice. “Don’t worry, love, our girl will come around.”

She already was. R.J. resisted the urge to run out and hug her parents and tell them she was sorry. But for so long she’d been the dutiful daughter as much as she could be, and still they refused to let her have a pass on a promise she made when she was eighteen. Her father had been hurt, for goodness sake, and to make her mother feel better she said what her mama needed to hear.  She was forced to suffer the consequences and her mother was hardly a woman to relent. Just like she wasn’t a person to break a promise so essentially she was fucked.

She got back into bed and proceeded to sulk and slipped beneath the covers the best she could with her bum arm. The arm that began to throb painfully during the whole conversation. Yep, she was having so much fun being a civilian. Ten minutes later Sean walked in carrying a tray.

“You’d better be a mirage,” she grumbled.

“No such luck,” Sean said cheerily. “Your mom made you a few dishes. Spanish omelets and steak fiesta breakfast burritos. They are so good, I can’t wait for the
empanadas
and the roasted pork and yellow rice later.”

“So you’re bumming food off me? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asked.

“Got the day off.” He put the tray by the bed. “Come on, let me help you sit up and eat. There’s coffee too. Yummy, yummy.”

“Stop talking like I’m three years old.” R.J. tried to sit up with no help from him and winced as she jarred her hand.

“God, you are so freaking stubborn.” He rolled his eyes, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hauled her up against the pillows. He set the tray on her lap. “Eat, Punk.”

“I also resent the name. You’re seven years older than me,” R.J. said, and took a sip of coffee then sighed. “That was good. I wish it could cure arm pain.”

“Meds after food,” Sean said. “Why do you stick by a promise you made years ago?”

“Dad taught me if a person’s word isn’t good then what kind of honor could they have.” R.J. sighed. “I can’t go be a cop and not honor a promise.”

“Rosalie, you said that when you were eighteen and your dad got shot,” Sean said quietly. “I remember the day, and your mom was inconsolable.”

“Still, I said it and they held me to it. Fuck it, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” R.J. took a bite of her food and savored the taste. Her mother’s cooking was always sublime. She was with Sean on his assessment; dinner would be heaven later on. “So, why did you kiss me?”

He looked at her. “Didn’t think you’d bring that up quite yet.”

“You know me, I never shy away from a conversation. I like to take the bull by the horns.” She never took her eyes away from his gaze. “Speak up, why did you kiss me?”

“Because you’re the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” Sean said easily.

R.J. snorted. “I’ve been a pain in your ass for a long time, never drove you to put your tongue in my mouth.”

“You were hurt and your voice on the phone…” Sean cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you. There, I said it and I’m not planning on apologizing for it.”

“Never asked you to,” R.J. said defiantly. “I liked it, so there.”

“You’d better like it, because I plan on doing it again and some other things when we’re naked,” Sean shot back.

“Yeah? I may not be easily won, so don’t think you can skimp on the details.” R.J. was enjoying the verbal volleying between them.

“Wasn’t planning on it, sweet-cheeks. I plan to romance the hell out of you,” he answered.

“I bet you can’t wait to see if my cheeks are sweet,” she teased.

Sean grinned. “Yeah, I really can’t.”

“So what happens from here?” she asked quietly.

“You take your meds and get back into bed and we take it one day at a time,” he said simply. “Then I take you for dinner and drinks?”

“Okay, that sounds nice.” R.J. smiled hesitantly.

Why the heck did she feel excited and shy all of a sudden?
Well, for one, he kissed you like you were the last taste of gelato in the world, and you liked it,
her inner voice pointed out. She ate, and then he passed her the pain meds, kissed her forehead, and told her to get some more sleep.  She snuggled down in bed and shut her eyes, reliving his kiss over and over again.

“Well damn, I’m going to be dating and having hot sex with Sean Gilead,” she said to herself.

She dozed off with a grin on her face.

Chapter Three

“Give it to me, Rosalie, give it,” Sean ordered and held out his hand.

He’d gone back to work, and each night he showed up at her door with dinner he had bought or food from her mother.  R.J. and her mother still weren’t on speaking terms and he wanted to be Switzerland—a neutral force in the battle. It was a path wrought with emotional landmines in family warfare and he maneuvered as carefully as he could around them both.

Her mother sniffed and had tears in her eyes asking him to please talk with Rosalie.  He’d promise because he couldn’t stand to see any woman cry and then he’d leave with a tray full of food. He’d show up at Rosalie’s apartment and he’d be called a traitorous friend, but yet Rosalie would take the food, grumbling all the way.  This evening he showed up to find her trying to clean her apartment with an arm still in a sling. She had to be going stir crazy because she couldn’t drive and her arm was still sore.

“I refuse. This is my Swiffer wet jet and my kitchen,” R.J. said defiantly.  “And while I love my mother’s cooking, I would kill for two slices of New York style pizza.”

“How about this?” Sean posed the idea to her. “You give me the mop- broom thingy and go get dressed. I’ll finish up here and we can go to Sicily’s.”

She gave him a wary look. “You’re not kidding me, the place on Fifty-third Street with the amazing calzones and pizza to die for?”

Sean smiled. “Going stir crazy, I see.”

She shoved the broom at him. “Here, I’m going to go get dressed. Be done by the time I get back.”

“Bossy, bossy,” he chided softly. “Remember, I’m the only link to the outside world you have.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you’d like to think that. Just today Mark called to ask me out.”

“The guy who left the NYPD to be FBI?” Sean’s hackles rose.  As far as he was concerned no other man should be even looking at her.

“Yeah, he calls every once in a while and we get together, you know how it goes, hang out and stuff.” Rosalie walked out of the kitchen and he followed.

“And is that sex and stuff?”  Sean asked.

“Hello, do I ever ask you about your sex life, Sean?” R.J. responded.

“No, but I can disclose I haven’t dated or slept with anyone in over a year,” he said.  “Didn’t the kiss mean anything to you?”

“Of course it did. I told Mark no about coming around,” R.J. responded.  “You said you were my only means of escaping my apartment and I was making a point that you were not.”

“Some way to make a point,” he muttered.

R.J. smiled at him.  “Finish the floor and come help me with my shirt. For future reference, I remembered the kid, even drugged up, so it’s etched in my brain.”

Sean grinned. “Yeah?”

R.J. nodded. “Yes, so hurry up so I can get that pizza.”

“Fine, Punk.”

He watched her walk into the bedroom and finished the floor in record time. Then he followed her to the bedroom. She was trying to pull her pants up with one hand and he watched the funny dance for a minute before walking over to help.

“Let me get the buttons.” Sean sat on the edge of the bed and tugged her forward. He was very close to the smooth chocolate skin of her stomach. If he wanted to he could press a kiss above her navel.  “Which shirt?”