Chad’s eyes narrowed—out of embarrassment or resentment, Rafe couldn’t tell. But a sheepish grin quickly overtook the glare. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
Ignoring him, Rafe slipped his Visa into the folder. The server took care of the bill, and the four of them headed to the parking lot. The women hugged good-bye, and Chelsea left with Chad in his ten-year-old Mercedes, a classy car that didn’t match Mr. Man-Bun’s image.
“Whew!” Daisy said when the car was out of sight. “That was quite an experience, huh?”
Rafe put his arm around her waist. “I can think of a few other words for it.”
“Not the best food.” She wrinkled her nose as they walked. “In fact—”
“Dairy Queen?” He tugged her tighter to his side. “I could use real food.”
Daisy leaned into him. “Sure. I’m good for a Blizzard.”
He helped her into the Camaro, and they drove off. He was ready to forget the meal and move on, but when they reached a red light, Daisy finally spoke. “You’re awfully quiet. What did you think?”
“About the food? It was awful.”
“No, silly!” She pretended to punch his arm. “About Chad. I’m Chelsea’s wing-girl. I need to look out for her. This is date number three, and she likes him a lot. By the way, thanks for picking up the check. I’m sure he’ll get it next time.”
“Uh . . .” Next time? He’d prefer bread and water to vegan whatever-it-was.
Before he could formulate the right words, Daisy sighed. “First impressions can be tricky.”
They could also be accurate. If he and Daisy were a couple, Rafe needed to freely speak his mind. “To be honest, I wasn’t impressed. In fact, I got a bad—”
“Vibe,” they said at the same time.
Daisy laughed softly. “He must have used that word a hundred times.”
“At least.” Rafe wanted to make light of it but couldn’t. His cop instincts were too hot to ignore. “How confident are you that he’s not some sort of scamster?”
“Pretty confident.” She described how she and Chelsea had checked out Chad-Rod’s business website and social media after the first date. “We didn’t see any red flags.”
“I do.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Rafe debated how blunt to be. “I understand a guy forgetting his wallet. It happens, but how often does it happen on a date? A guy checks things like that before he leaves the house.”
“Well, people make mistakes.”
Leave it to Daisy to find an excuse. Most of the time, he admired the way she gave people the benefit of the doubt, but not when it involved her being Chelsea’s wing-girl.
He turned left toward DQ. “There’s more.”
“Like what?”
“Those stories he told—all over-the-top.”
“A lot of guys have stories. I worked as a server in LA. You wouldn’t believe how many so-called movie stars I’ve met.”
“A lot, I’m sure. We all exaggerate now and then. But I still think Chad’s a potential problem. Did you notice his eyes?”
“Not really.”
“Bloodshot.” Rafe bit off the word. “And all those vibes showed mental laziness. Forgetting his wallet? Same thing. Sorry to be blunt, Daize, but Chad-Rod showed signs of being a pothead. Or maybe he was blitzed on pills.”
Daisy’s jaw dropped. “You don’t know that!”
“I’m a cop,” he reminded her. “I saw more than enough to be suspicious.”
A block away, the DQ sign glowed red in the night. Behind him he saw headlights approaching too fast, then swinging into the next lane. A Corolla missing a taillight blew by the Camaro and picked up even more speed. If Rafe had been in uniform, he would have shot after the car and written a ticket, maybe arrested the driver for reckless driving or OVI—operating a vehicle impaired.
Air hissed through Daisy’s nose. He stole a sideways glance just as she sagged against the bucket seat. “This is awful. If you’re right about Chad, Chelsea should drop him now. But if you’re wrong, that’s not fair to Chelsea or Chad.” She clutched fistfuls of her short hair, pulled hard, and groaned. “I hate this.”
Chapter 20
“Hate what?” Rafe didn’t understand what Daisy meant.
“Not knowing who to believe and who to trust.” She let go of her hair but pulled her knees up and hugged them despite the seat belt.
The position worried him. If someone plowed into them, the airbag would deploy and she’d be hurt. He thought of asking her to sit straight, but DQ was only a block away and traffic was light.
Daisy stared out the window, gnawing her lip. “I’m not ignorant about pot and pills. I see what you mean about all those vibes. But who am I to say Chad’s a loser? Maybe that’s just his personality.”
“Maybe.
“What about his website? It’s loaded with pictures and great reviews. The photos are candids, and he’s in them. It can’t all be made up. Plus he drives a nice car.”
Rafe turned into the restaurant parking lot and took a space away from the main door. Daisy’s excuses for Chad didn’t fit with his cop instincts at all. “How do you know he didn’t borrow the car from his mother? For all we know, he lives in someone’s basement, smokes pot all day, and is in credit card debt up to his man-bun.”
“You can’t know that,” she insisted. “What happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”
“Nothing,” Rafe replied. “We’re not talking about sending him to prison. We’re talking about Chelsea and her safety. You can’t be too careful.”
“I know that.” She finger-combed her hair back into place, a reminder of the head injury she’d survived. “But at some point, we have to live. That’s what Chelsea is trying to do. I don’t think Chad is that bad.”
“Maybe not. But—” Rafe clenched his jaw. “Look, I don’t want to argue about it. I just don’t trust the guy.”
“I don’t like him, either. But Chelsea does, and she’s my friend. For her sake, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Sorry, Daize. I just can’t.”
She pulled back, her spine rigid. “Isn’t that a little cynical?”
“It’d say it’s realistic.”
She glared at him even harder, saying nothing, as if she didn’t know him at all.
The sudden distance between them stung. Did Daisy understand the cop part of his personality? His gut burned with the need to protect and defend, an instinct that required taking charge, being ready to fight, and even die. If they fell in love, those questions mattered as much as whether or not he returned to Cincinnati, maybe even more.
It was too soon to go down that road—or the 1,600-mile road between Wyoming and Ohio. He reached across the car to give her shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s get some real food.”
She stared at him, unsmiling and her brow slightly furrowed. “It’s late, and I’m not really hungry. Would you mind getting something to go instead?”
“No problem.” He put the Camaro in gear, circled to the drive-thru, and ordered his standard burger and fries.
Five minutes later, they were headed to Daisy’s apartment with the aroma of hot food filling the car. He reached over the console and gave her shoulder another squeeze. “It’s true that I don’t like Chad, but Chelsea’s your friend and you’re trying to help her.”
“I am.”
“It’s just that I worry.”
Daisy blew out a slow breath. “It’s okay to worry. I worry about Chelsea, too. But I don’t have the right to judge anyone—even someone as annoying as Chad.”
At least they agreed on annoying. “I’m not judging him. I’m looking at the evidence, and what I see is suspicious.”
“Maybe,” Daisy admitted. “I know how desperate Chelsea is, but she knows the risks. We’ve talked about it. She’s careful.”
He opened his mouth to say posers and predators were expert manipulators, but Daisy knew that even better than he did. They both needed to re
group, so he set the radio to a calming Pandora station and drove the last mile to her apartment in silence.
Daisy chewed her lip, then indicated the front of the building rather than the back lot where he usually parked. “I don’t want your food to get cold. It’s okay to drop me off here.”
Was she blowing him off? Or did she really care about his French fries getting cold? He parked where she indicated, but no way would he let her walk through the complex alone if she didn’t have to. The building was well lit and secured with a locked wrought-iron gate, but a person couldn’t be too careful, in Rafe’s opinion.
Daisy picked up her purse and turned to him. The light from the building entrance lit up her blond hair but silhouetted her face, hiding her emotions, though she seemed relaxed. “Thanks again for tonight, especially picking up the check.”
“I was glad to do it. Chelsea works hard and she’s your friend.”
“And roommate,” Daisy added, her tone serious. “I’m the only person she has right now. We look out for each other.”
“That’s good.” He meant it, though he suspected Daisy did a lot more looking out than Chelsea did.
She reached for his hand, her fingers warm against his cooler ones as she squeezed. Shoulders relaxed, she swayed slightly forward. No blow-off here. Knowing Daisy, she really cared about those cold French fries.
Her voice came out low, soft as silk. “Thank you again, Rafe. I know tonight was—” A text tone from her phone cut off her words. Her hand flew out of his grasp, and she reached into her purse for her phone. “That’s Chelsea. I’m sorry, but I have to check it.”
The phone chimed again before Daisy could swipe the screen, and then a third time. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut about Chelsea chattering even with text messages.
Daisy read the texts and shot back a reply. “That’s her check-in text. She’s already upstairs with Hannah.”
The phone buzzed a fourth time before Daisy set it down. “I better go.”
She leaned in for a kiss. Putting his annoyance aside, he stroked her cheek. “If I don’t walk you to your door, I won’t sleep tonight. Humor me, okay?”
She gazed into his eyes, blinked twice, then waggled her eyebrows in that playful way that was uniquely Daisy. “I have an idea. How about if you kiss me twice—here and again at the door?”
“I like how you think.” He matched his mouth to hers and the kiss came alive. Electricity shot between them—the kind that sizzled and snapped with promise.
Satisfied, he drew back and searched her face. The sparkle in her eyes assured him they were at ease again, so he climbed out of the car and met her on the sidewalk. Hand in hand, they walked to her second-floor apartment, where she opened both locks and turned to him with a look that dared him to make the second kiss even better than the first.
He cupped her face in both hands, leaned in, and—her phone blasted out with yet another text from Chelsea. Rafe dropped his hands to his sides.
Daisy groaned without reaching for the phone. “I should have turned the stupid thing off. Where were we?”
“Kiss number two,” he said, but the mood was broken. Instead of a generous kiss that would have topped the one in the car, he brushed a tender one on her lips. “Go on in. Something tells me Chelsea wants to talk.”
He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but Daisy drew back. “I’m sorry about all the texts. She doesn’t realize—”
“It’s all right,” he assured her. He didn’t like Daisy being Chelsea’s wing-girl, but he understood the role. Even more to the point, he respected Daisy for looking out for a friend.
They traded another quick kiss and Daisy slipped into the apartment. Rafe waited until the deadbolt clicked into place, then he strode back to the Camaro. He took in his surroundings the way he always did, but his mind drifted back to Daisy. Somehow she made him believe in a better world, calmed the squirrels in his head, and made him laugh even when the dark edges of life pressed in on him. Everything about her called to his blood in the best possible ways.
Did he love her? Yes . . . Yes, he did.
The realization washed over him, bringing joy with the force of the mighty Ohio River at flood stage. He punched his fist into the air and almost whooped, but in the next breath, his stomach knotted. Police work was fraught with danger, and she’d been the victim of a violent crime. Even someone without her scars might struggle with the daily risks and uncertainty. The nature of his job took a heavy toll on cops and their families alike. Could Daisy understand and support his career?
The geography problem loomed just as large. If he and Daisy were destined to be together, she’d have to move to Cincinnati—or he’d have to stay in Refuge. One of them would have to make a sacrifice. Rafe didn’t want it to be Daisy, but he loved his work and the difference he could make in the city he called home.
But Daisy loved Refuge just as much.
There were no easy answers. Frustrated by it all, he climbed into the driver’s seat. A block away from the apartment complex, he turned the radio to classic rock, blasted the volume, and sped into the night, munching cold French fries and missing her already.
Chapter 21
If there was one thing Daisy knew how to do, it was plan a party. When Lyn walked into the bridal shower on Saturday afternoon, MJ squealed with delight. Happy tears streamed down Daisy’s cheeks, and she glowed with pride when MJ gushed about the decorations, the adorable custom cake, and the silly games that tied the generations of women together.
When the shower broke up, Shane and MJ took Lyn out for a light dinner while Daisy cleaned up and watched Cody. She owed Rafe a phone call but wanted to be alone when they spoke. He’d been a saint about putting up miles of frilly decorations, and during the shower, he waited outside of MJ’s house to greet Lyn when she arrived in her rental car.
Daisy couldn’t have pulled off the surprise without him, but they hadn’t seen much of each other over the past week because of her job. The reps from Camp Good Times visited on Wednesday. The organization impressed Miss Joan, but they wanted to put in three swimming pools and a train ride. The Wildlife Preservation Society came on Friday. Their CEO made a strong case, but the focus on endangered species struck Miss Joan as too narrow. Cottonwood Acres was meant to rescue people, too.
Despite her busy work week, Daisy had missed Rafe terribly. They spoke every night, but those conversations were brief and even a little tense. Whenever she mentioned Chelsea and Chad, Rafe warned her about being naïve. Daisy didn’t like Chad any more than Rafe did, but who was she to judge?
On the other hand, Rafe was trained to judge situations quickly and to act. Those instincts made him a good cop, but his cynicism worried her.
Shortly after eight, Shane and MJ returned home, and Daisy left for her apartment. When she stepped inside, Chelsea’s mommy-voice came down the hall, the words rhyming thanks to Dr. Seuss. No way did Daisy want Chelsea to interrupt her phone call with Rafe even by accident, so she told Chelsea about it, then went out on the balcony.
He answered on the fourth ring. “I just got back”—he gulped in air—“from a run.” Another gulp. “How did the shower go?”
“It was perfect. Thanks again for everything, especially meeting Lyn. MJ was ecstatic.” She filled him in on the details for five solid minutes, then laughed at herself. “Am I boring you?”
“Hardly.” His husky voice convinced her. “It gave me a chance to catch my breath. I’m on the deck cooling off. It’s a beautiful night, but it would be even better if you were here. I missed you this week.”
“I missed you, too.” Her voice came out as earnest as his. “I’d invite you over now, but tomorrow’s a big day with Lyn’s visit to the ranch.”
“What time will she be there?”
“Eleven. She’ll give her presentation, then we’ll have lunch and go for the big tour.”
“I know what that organization means to you. I hope Miss Joan chooses it.”
“Me too.” She
hadn’t told him about her personal dream of becoming the director. The week had sped by, and if she voiced that hope, it would become even more real. She’d kept it to herself, but with their feelings for each other growing, what at first seemed private now bordered on secret.
Daisy took a breath. “There’s something I haven’t mentioned.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“If Maggie’s House wins the giveaway, I’m going to put in to be the director.”
Silence filled the air. “Wow.”
Squeezing the phone, she stared out to the parking lot. “It would be a dream come true for me. What do you think?”
More silence, then his breath gusted over the phone. “I think you’d be amazing.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Definitely.” His confidence cheered her on. “There’s always a learning curve, but you have what’s most important.”
“What’s that?”
“Good instincts. You care. You know a lot about Cottonwood Acres, and you understand Maggie’s House. You’re the perfect choice to pull it all together.”
Coming from Rafe, the praise meant a lot. “I’d have to go to LA for training, but it wouldn’t be long. Maybe a month.”
“When?”
“Late summer? Fall. I don’t know exactly.” Suddenly the future loomed in front of her. Would Rafe be in Refuge when she returned? Did she dare ask?
Longing washed through her in waves as relentless as a rising tide. Below her, a couple passed through the parking lot holding hands. She pictured Shane walking into the bridal shower at the end, the way he hugged MJ and spun her around.
Daisy wanted it all—a husband, a home of her own, children—and somehow that all now included Rafe. The realization stunned her. With her pulse thrumming, she savored the joy that came with wanting this strong, brave, handsome man in her life. But what came next? Did he feel the same way she did? And what did they do about the hundreds of miles between Refuge and Ohio?
Fear pulsed through her, dragging her helplessly away from the peace of mind she’d found in Refuge. Away from Shane and MJ, Cody, and even Miss Joan. Daisy didn’t have the courage to face the elephant in the room directly, so she hedged. “A lot can happen in a few months—for either one of us.”
A Gift to Cherish (Road to Refuge Book 2) Page 18