Taming Johnny (3 page)

She took an inadvertent step back, despite the bulletproof glass which separated her from the reception area.

“May I help you?” she said through the speaker on her left.

“Yeah, you can help me.” He sneered. Suddenly Emma wished Sally were there. She was better at dealing with people like this. She very diplomatically told them they could go to hell, without actually saying it, of course.

Emma straightened and tried to look authoritative. “
How
may I help you, sir?”

“Well, first you can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face.”

Emma prickled.

Leaning so close to the glass that it began to fog, he slapped down a grimy ticket. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s a citation, sir.”

“I know it’s a citation. What’s it for?”

Emma squinted. “I can’t read it. Can you hold it up, please?”

He pressed it to the window and glared at her.

She leaned forward, trying to make out the writing.

“Well?”

“It looks like you were cited for possession of marijuana. By Officer Lindley.”

“Who the fuck is that?” he said, raising his voice.

“He was the officer working the night you got this citation. The night of the twenty-first.”

“I want to talk to your chief. I don’t remember any of this.”

Probably because you were high out of your gourd, dumb ass.
“The chief isn’t in right now, but I can take a message and he can call you on Monday if you’d like.”

“No. I wouldn’t
like
. I want to talk to someone right now, you little cow.”

It was as if he’d slapped her across the face. He might as well have. “Excuse me?”

“You heard right. Turn your fat ass around and get me someone else.”

Emma had to work to keep her mouth from hanging open. No one had been so outright nasty about her weight since high school. It was such a shock she was having trouble processing it.

He could tell he’d hit a nerve, and he grinned, obviously enjoying it. “They grow ’em big here at the police department, eh?”

“What did you just say?”

Emma turned to see the lieutenant standing there, his face an interesting shade of red. He looked right past her to the creep on the other side of the glass. “I—”

He held a hand up to stop her, never taking his eyes off the guy. “
What
did you just say?”

“I said they grow ’em big here, officer.”

The lieutenant hit the door to the lobby as if it were spring loaded.

The guy backed up. He must have outweighed the lieutenant by at least fifty pounds and was a good two inches taller, but it didn’t matter. The look on Johnny Street’s face was dangerous.

Emma looked around anxiously. Maybe she should call someone. Get on the radio? The thought of seeing them fight made her physically sick. If the guy was on something, there was no telling what he was capable of.

Johnny pushed him up against the wall, violating every department policy there was, and leaned in close to his ear. He said something Emma couldn’t hear, but the look on the other man’s face told her all she needed to know.

The guy opened his mouth, and Johnny shoved him farther up against the wall. Emma swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t argue. A few seconds later, Johnny backed up and the creep took a noticeable breath. He turned to Emma and stepped toward the glass.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”

Chapter 4

Friday nights usually held the same routine for Johnny—finish up at the PD, go home, crack a beer, turn on the game, and try to relax. It wasn’t always easy. He was pretty tightly wound.

This Friday night was no better. In fact, it was worse. After he’d sent the dirtbag from the lobby packing, he’d come back into the office, planning on walking right by Beaumont without acknowledging the incident. Why should he? It happened. There was no use rehashing it for the sake of drama. The problem was that he’d made the mistake of looking at her. And she’d started to cry. Not the blubbery or whiny kind. Just slow, generous tears filling up her eyes.

She averted her gaze, making a show of turning off her computer as if it required one’s full and complete attention. She had the distinct look of someone who was trying to be brave. And something about that made him pause.

“You okay?”

She smiled, her eyes darting from the computer to him and back again. “Yes! Fine. Thank you so much.”

“That guy’s a prick, Beaumont. Best to forget about it.”

“It’s already forgotten.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He wasn’t buying it, but didn’t know what else to say. He was painfully out of his depth here. “Okay then.” He’d watched her for a second longer before turning to go.

He’d thought about her the entire drive home. How she’d looked so pretty that day. How she’d obviously been trying to get his attention, and how he’d treated her so badly. Like always.
Why are you so nasty all the time?
Her voice reverberated in his head from the other day.
I have my reasons
, he’d wanted to snap back.

By the time he got home, he was in a worse mood than usual. Jake called and asked if he wanted to come have a few beers with he and Eli, and Johnny told him no thanks.

“Shocker.” But Jake sounded amiable. He knew how Johnny operated. And most of the time he knew better than to push.

“Sorry, man. Just not up for it tonight.”

“All right. Maybe next time.”

“Maybe.”

Johnny hung up and stared with contempt at the empty room. He was restless. Jittery.
Why are you so nasty all the time?

Gritting his teeth, he tossed his cell onto the coffee table. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, fighting the thoughts that were always there, lurking just at the edge of his subconscious. He pictured his mother. He saw himself at fourteen, angry and resentful. Already bitter at the set of circumstances he’d found himself in. He saw her reach out from her bed and him telling her he had to go. That he was meeting some friends. He’d see her later.

Standing up, he paced the floor. He was pissed. More than pissed. He was furious. He wanted to kick the shit out of someone. Wanted to choke someone out. Preferably that piece of shit from the PD that day.

Johnny stopped at the window and looked out at the wide-open Texas landscape. Not another house in sight. He’d never been one for traditional neighborhoods. Too many neighbors.

The sun was just going down, touching the dry, parched grass with its warm fingers of gold. Everything outside seemed golden, despite the inky, black clouds which were rolling in from the west. If Johnny was a sensitive person, which he wasn’t, he would have said it was beautiful.

Turning away, he rubbed the stubble on his chin. What he really wanted to do was go for a drive. He hadn’t gone for a drive for the sake of driving in…maybe never. But the thought of staying one more second in his house, confined by the stark, white walls, made him want to come unglued.

He knew where Beaumont lived. He’d dropped something by her apartment one day after work for the chief. Why that particular thought occurred to him, he had no idea.

He grabbed his keys before he could change his mind.

* * * *

Emma sat curled up on the couch in her comfiest t-shirt and pajama bottoms, her hair drawn up in a messy bun, and her face scrubbed clean of makeup. It had been the crappiest day. All she wanted was to lose herself in a movie and fall asleep listening to the wind rattle the window panes. A storm was brewing outside. She loved storms. Just as long as no tornadoes decided to tag along.

She glanced again at the torn open envelope lying beside her on the couch. Even the postage looked exotic. Nigel had sent her another letter from where he was living in South Africa. It sounded like he was doing well, helping a lot of people. He was teaching English for the Peace Corps in a small village outside Zimbabwe and had made a special connection with a little boy named Dissu.
You’d love him, Emma
, Nigel had written in his usual messy handwriting.
He’s so smart. So full of life and hope. They all are. This place is everything we thought it would be. More, even.

Emma smiled. She had no doubt it was. Getting letters from Nigel was bittersweet. She loved hearing about Africa, loved knowing that he was doing what he seemed destined to do. But they always made her question her own life, and question herself for staying behind. She’d done what she thought she’d needed to at the time. But she still wondered if it was the right thing.

At any rate, she knew it would be strange seeing Nigel again after all that had happened between them. His parents still lived in town and he hadn’t been home in over a year. He was due for a visit and had mentioned the possibility of one soon. Emma was bracing herself for the inevitable conversation which would follow. It was pretty obvious from his letters that he still wanted her to reconsider and come. He tended to be even more convincing in person.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and she snuggled farther under her blanket. Reaching for the remote, she froze when a car door slammed outside. She looked at the clock. 7:25. Her neighbors in the apartment next door were gone for the weekend, so it couldn’t be them. Maybe it was Lauren. Emma had called earlier to bellyache into her big sister’s voicemail. Maybe she was taking pity on the baby of the family and bringing a pint of ice cream to share.

Emma threw off the blanket like a little kid with a surprise visitor. She hurried over to the window just as there was a sharp knock on the door. Pushing aside the sheer, ivory curtains, she peered out onto the street and sucked in a breath. Parked on the curb was the lieutenant’s big, black truck. She’d know it anywhere. Even his vehicle was sexy.

She let out a surprised squeak.
What in the world is he doing here?

With her heart beating in her throat, she leaned back to look in the mirror by the couch and groaned.
Oh my God.
Of all the times Johnny Street could pop by, he had to choose tonight. Emma’s hair was a bird’s nest, her skin pale and naked, and…her arms shot instinctively around her chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
Shit, shit, shit!

He knocked again. This time louder.

“Um…just a minute!” In a panic, she looked around for her robe before remembering it was in the washing machine. Scurrying into her bedroom, she threw open the dresser drawers.
A bra, a bra…
She tossed every different kind of undergarment aside, panties, panties, and more panties.

Knock, knock!

“I’m coming!” The guy was insufferable. Where was the fire? Was a bomb about to go off inside the building? Why couldn’t he just hold on a second until she had the girls properly corralled in an eighteen-hour something or other?

Giving up on finding anything in her dresser, she pawed frantically through her dirty clothes.
Oh my God.
Nothing. Not even a dingy running bra.

Thunder boomed in the distance. It was getting closer. The heavens were obviously conspiring against her. Someone up there was making sure she was getting proper payback for something awful she’d done. Why else would Lieutenant Street be waiting impatiently outside her front door while she was in her PJs?

Hugging herself, she headed into the living room and reluctantly unlocked the deadbolt. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door a crack.

“Um…hi.”

Johnny stood with his head cocked, his hands shoved in his jean pockets. “I thought I was going to have to call the paramedics, Beaumont. What took you so long?”

Typical. He says jump and expects you to say how high. Even in your own apartment on a Friday night.

Emma cocked her own head, attempting to give some attitude back. “Yes, well, I wasn’t expecting company. And I’m in my pajamas.”

Lightning flickered like a strobe light across the dark sky. The air smelled like rain.

He didn’t seem concerned that she wasn’t dressed. Instead, he nodded toward her living room. “Are you going to let me in, or should I just stand out here all night?”

Emma blinked. The wind picked up, bringing with it a few drops of rain which spattered against her cheeks. Hesitating for one more second, she finally stepped aside. “Come in, Lieutenant.”

He walked past and she caught his scent. It didn’t matter how many times a day she took it in, it always gave her butterflies. She closed the door behind him with jittery hands. She still couldn’t believe he was there, standing in her foyer. It was surreal.

Hugging herself again, she turned and smiled. Suddenly her apartment felt ninety degrees. So why were her nipples hard as beach pebbles? She adjusted her elbows, trying to keep her breasts under wraps, which wasn’t easy.

“So what brings you by?”

When he turned around, it was with an expression she’d seen a thousand times before. Anger. He was pissed.
Fantastic.

“Why did you come in today all dressed up like you were going to the prom?”

She gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, Beaumont.” He took a step toward her, his eyes hard. “Was that for me?”

Johnny Street wasn’t one to beat around the proverbial bush. He always said exactly what he thought. Something Emma secretly admired. Until now, of course.

“What?” She laughed and her cheeks heated. “No! No. Of course not. Why would you think that?”

His gaze dropped to her pajama bottoms as her face burned mercilessly. “Because you don’t usually dress like that, that’s why.”

“Well, I don’t usually dress like
this
either. And you came all the way over here to accuse me of that? Don’t you think that’s a little…conceited?” she managed to say it while looking him in the eye, which she thought was pretty great, since he was in fact, one hundred percent right. She had dressed for him. What she didn’t get was why in the world he cared. He never had before. And why would he be
mad
about it?

Lightning flickered neon blue and thunder clapped a few seconds later. It was insistent, as if wanting to move things along.