Finding Home

by Rachel Smith

  My phone beeped with another incoming message but I ignored it, got out of the car, and jogged up to Lizzie’s door. I reached for my kit, assuming it would be locked and I’d have to jimmy it open. Out of curiosity, I tried the knob first, surprised it turned with such ease. I pushed it open and walked right into her house. The stupidity of her door being unlocked for anyone to walk in—especially knowing she had a piece of shit living just a few doors down—sparked my anger and I threw the door closed. The ‘bang’ echoed throughout the quiet house.

  Breathing deep, with my hands on my hips, I watched Lizzie slowly creep out from the back bedroom, her face hard with anger. “You’re kidding me with this, right?”

  I pointed to the front door and snarled, “You lock this fucking thing the minute you walk in the house, you got me?”

  Her mouth dropped. “Okay, we need to back up here, rewind, and tell me why you all of a sudden think you’re my keeper.” She lifted both hands and shrugged. “Have I been in a coma the past month? Am I suddenly unable to take care of myself?”

  “Lizzie,” I warned, a last-ditch effort to rein in my temper before the volcano stirring inside of me erupted.

  “No, really, I want to know.” She began to walk toward me. “I want to know why the hell you acted like an asshole to Max on the street, waltzing in all manly and growly and kissing my forehead in front of him. I was trying,” she stopped in front of me and poked her finger square in my chest, “to look professional. I was trying…” She poked me again and my teeth clamped together so tight I worried they would turn to dust. “…to gain some damn respect for once in my life. And then you,” one last poke and I reached out to grab her finger, my other hand settling on her hip to steady myself. God, seeing her all worked up like this turned me on. I felt my cock press uncomfortably behind the zipper of my pants. “You,” she took a deep breath and let it out. “You just…”

  “What, Lizzie? I just what?”

  It was my turn to talk.

  “Pulled up and staked my claim? Yeah, you’re damn right that’s what I did. I didn’t like how that guy looked at you. I didn’t like how whatever the hell you said made him look down and blush, for Christ’s sake. And I didn’t like the thought of you spending any amount of time with that pansy-assed fucker.”

  She didn’t move. Her green eyes, round as saucers, continued to stare at me without blinking. I let her finger go and her hand settled on my chest. I reached to grab her other hip, giving it a squeeze before I pulled her close. The heat from her hands seeped through my uniform, through my undershirt, and right into my skin. The thought of her hands roaming my bare chest while I kissed the soft skin of her neck lit my senses on fire. I wanted to feel her everywhere.

  “Lizzie,” I growled again, my voice husky from the excess testosterone coursing through my body.

  Her hands curled into fists as she clutched my shirt. At first, I thought she would push me away again, but instead she pulled me closer.

  I leaned down, my lips hovering just above hers. Her green eyes sparkled as the emotions worked through them, and then her gaze dropped to my mouth. My tongue swept across my bottom lip and her breath hitched.

  She wanted it.

  I wanted it.

  I shuffled her back against the wall, caging her in with my body. My hips pressed against hers and she let out a quiet whimper. Oh yeah, she felt me. She felt what she did to me as I shifted even closer. Fire spread through my veins as I pictured us in this position without the barrier of clothes. I groaned at the thought, wondering how tightly her inner muscles would grip my cock when I slid into her warm heat.

  I couldn’t take it any longer, I needed a taste.

  Just one taste of her lips.

  I leaned in, my mouth a whisper away from hers, when my pager began to screech at my hip. One long beep followed by two short ones. I closed my eyes as the sequence repeated. It meant we had an emergency.

  Son of a bitch.

  Pagers were only used as a final effort when all attempts to get ahold of an officer failed. I needed to get to my car, to my phone, and check in with the station.

  I needed to be a cop.

  But I wanted to be a man.

  I wanted Liz as my own. Mine. Not just because I wanted to take her to bed, but because I wanted to know more about her. To spend time with her.

  “Damn it,” I hissed and leaned my forehead against hers. “I’ve got to go.”

  She swallowed, her neck muscles straining before she blinked her eyes repeatedly to gain focus.

  “M’kay,”

  “This is not over.” I stepped through the door and turned. “Lock this behind me, but I’ll be back after my shift. I’ve got to take care of some shit going down but I’m coming to you when I’m done, got it?”

  Lizzie nodded.

  “Need to hear the words, Liz.”

  “I got it,” she whispered and closed the door. I listened as the latch caught and she turned both locks. Jogging down her steps to my car, I cursed whatever the hell emergency had popped up to pull me away.

  For the first time in my life, I wasn’t looking forward to the action waiting for me at the station. I just wanted to get it over with so I could get back to Lizzie.

  9

  Lizzie

  He never showed up.

  I waited for him for twelve hours.

  Twelve.

  Miserable.

  Hours.

  Just me, sitting on the couch like the pathetic woman I am, waiting on a man. Most women would’ve given up after a while, but not me. Nope. I was a freaking glutton for punishment and literally sat up, waiting for him to come back.

  Apparently, I’d learned nothing from my debacle with Erik. Not a damn thing. Especially since this whole scene had been eerily familiar.

  I’d texted. I’d called. I wanted to get in my car and drive by his house, except I didn’t actually know where he lived. So I paced back and forth, back and forth, praying Erik was okay and not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

  I picked up my phone once again and pulled up my internet app. Quickly keying in the information, I hit the green phone icon and waited for it to connect.

  “Mercy Hospital, Lakeshore, how may I direct your call?”

  My nerves got the best of me and I quickly hung up. Closing my eyes, I began to tap the phone against my forehead while I muttered, “Stupid, stupid, stupid, Lizzie.”

  Just then, the buzzer to my apartment sounded. Like a lovesick fool, I bolted toward the intercom. “Erik?” I practically panted, as I pushed the talk button.

  “Yeah, buzz me in.”

  I pressed the button to release the front door and waited patiently for him to climb the stairs to my second-floor apartment. I had already released the lock when I heard his footsteps in the hall. His face appeared through my peephole, but I swung the door open before he even had the chance to knock.

  “God, Liz, I’m so sorry,” he said as I rushed into his arms. He stroked my hair and all the tension from earlier melted away, forgotten.

  Pulling back, I looked him in the eyes. “What happened?”

  His weight shifted from one foot to the other as his eyes slid over my shoulder to peer inside my apartment. “Oh, you know how it is,” he said as he waved one hand through the air dismissively. “I get sucked into that whole numbers world and lose track of time.”

  I stared at him; my brain unable to accept that he’d actually been at work. It was almost midnight and he was supposed to pick me up at seven for dinner. He lost himself in the numbers world for five hours?

  I sighed. How could I have been so blind back then? How did I not see that whole encounter for what it really was?

  Because I’m an idiot, that’s why.

  An idiot who sits around waiting on a man just because they said they would be here.

  “No more, Liz,” I told myself as I got off the couch and crawled into bed. It was already after midnight. “No. Freaking. More.”

  The next morning, I
woke up a new person.

  Well, sort of.

  I was still the same old me, but with a fresh, new attitude. Last night had been a wake-up call, a definite turning point in my life.

  The new Liz wasn’t going to take any crap from anyone… starting immediately.

  Reaching to my nightstand, I unplugged my phone and swiped the screen. One text.

  My newly hardened resolve melted just a bit. Okay, so he let me know eventually that he wasn’t coming.

  I clicked on the message icon, but it wasn’t from Alex. It was one of those stupid reminders that I had a dentist appointment later in the week.

  “Seriously?” I asked my phone before slamming it down at my side. I threw my covers back and practically leapt out of bed. “What an asshole,” I muttered as I cinched my robe around my waist. “Great big, inconsiderate asshole.”

  After a cup of coffee, I decided it didn’t matter. I didn’t care he blew me off without so much as sending a courtesy text to let me know he couldn’t make it.

  “Doesn’t bother me one bit,” I told myself as I spread the cream cheese on my bagel. Taking a bite, I strolled to my front window and looked out at the empty street. A thin layer of fresh snow blanketed every surface, sparkling in the sunlight. It was just enough to cover the dirt and tire tracks, making everything appear new and clean.

  The neighborhood was quiet. No cars, no dogs barking, even the birds were still asleep. Huddled in their warm nests from the long night. Just another peaceful winter morning in small-town Iowa.

  Sigh.

  After finishing my coffee and breakfast, I slipped into my clothes and went about my day. Laundry, errands, tidying up my already tidy house simply for the sake of having something to do.

  Getting my firm up and running became Priority One. I didn’t function well without a purpose. I loved the hustle and bustle of a busy day.

  As if on cue, my phone rang. For how much I hoped it was Alex finally calling, I was happy to see Max’s name flash on the screen. Hopefully, he had news about the office space.

  “Hello?”

  “Elizabeth, this is Max Mayland. I have good news to share.”

  Finally. “I’m glad to hear that, Max.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I bumped your paperwork to the top of my list yesterday when I went back to the office. The building owner has agreed to your offer, so I went ahead and made an appointment with the loan officer at the bank here in town. We use him frequently and he does an excellent job. Are you free later this afternoon to meet me there? We can get the ball rolling on the next step to get your firm up and running.”

  “Yes!” I said, a little too enthusiastically and then took a deep breath to calm my excitement. “I mean, this afternoon works for me.”

  “Great. Meet me in the bank lobby at four o’clock.” He paused. “Will your… um… will your boyfriend be joining us?”

  I scowled. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Oh,” he replied with obvious surprise in his voice. Or maybe it was longing? “I thought you and Alex Lexington were an item.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No. Alex is nothing to me.” Just a super-hot cop that almost kissed me and melted my insides to a puddle of goo, I added inside my head.

  “Well then, maybe after our meeting we can… um… I mean, if you want to, we can get something to eat.” He stumbled over the words, his nervousness coming through even over the phone. It was sort of endearing, cute even. In a nerdy kind of way.

  My mind began to volley my options back and forth. No, he wasn’t a hot cop who pinned me against a wall and rendered my brain useless from lust. But he came off as the type of guy true to his word. I bet if he told me he was coming back; he would actually come back.

  What to do… what to do…

  “Okay,” I blurted, finally answering the poor man.

  He let out a sigh of relief. “Great, I’ll see you at the bank at four.”

  “It’s a date,” I replied.

  I took the phone from my ear to end the call, still not completely sure if making a date for dinner with Max was the best idea or not.

  “No… this is good,” I muttered, trying to convince myself it was true. “You can go out with Max. You can take a risk and enjoy a nice meal with a nice man. Just be smart and watch for signs that he’s a scheming asshole. Or married. Easy-peasy.”

  I nodded, like that made it official and then wondered if I should be concerned over the fact that I talk to myself so much. Maybe it would help to get a cat. I could talk to a cat. At least then I wouldn’t feel like such a crazy person.

  I could just be a crazy cat person. Even better.

  Giggling to myself, I decided on a day of pampering before my big night out. I had all the tools to give myself a facial, manicure, pedicure—the works. And then a nice, long soak in the tub sounded phenomenal.

  During my leisurely afternoon, I managed to push all thoughts of Alex Lexington out of my mind. It was quite simple, really. Every time he slipped into my subconscious; I merely sang a Taylor Swift song at the top of my lungs. She was the ultimate scorned man-hater. I could learn a thing or two from her.

  It worked like a charm. I would call the afternoon a total win for me.

  I took my time getting dressed, choosing something in the range of business casual, with just a hint of pizzazz. I didn’t want to look sloppy for my meeting at the bank, yet I didn’t want Max to think I had put too much effort into it for our date afterward.

  For the first time in weeks, my confidence began to arrive back in bits and pieces. Looking fantastic helped me feel fantastic, too, which only boosted my outlook on the whole night.

  See? I could do this. I totally could.

  Oh shit… who am I kidding? I can’t do this.

  Taking two deep breaths, I sat on the couch in a final effort to pull myself together. I had to meet Max in only twenty minutes and the jumbled nerves in my belly had twisted my insides like a pretzel.

  What if he doesn’t show up? What if he doesn’t think of dinner after our meeting as a date and I’m way overdressed? What if we have nothing to talk about?

  What if…

  Oh God.

  What if he’s married, too?

  “Stop,” I said out loud and closed my eyes to push all wayward thoughts from my mind. “Stop being so negative, Liz. Not every man is a lying, cheating, scumbag like Erik.”

  I opened my eyes when I heard a vehicle pull into my driveway, the engine cutting out followed by the slam of a door.

  Confused, I snatched my purse in the entryway and headed out the door. I was completely oblivious when I stepped over the threshold and said, “I thought we were meeting at…” The words caught in my throat; my feet planted on the wooden planks of the deck. I felt my mouth drop open, yet I was unable to finish that thought, because it wasn’t Max who had pulled into my driveway.

  It was Alex.

  “Nope,” I said, pulling myself together enough to close and lock my front door. I shook my head and continued, “Nope, nope, nope. I am not doing this with you right now. I have somewhere to be and I can’t be late.”

  Alex stood at the bottom of the steps. With his hands shoved into his coat pockets, he actually looked a bit awkward. Uncomfortable.

  Upset.

  “Hello?” I snapped my fingers. “Did you hear me? Since you couldn’t bother to come back last night I’m not waiting around. Not anymore.”

  A gust of cold winter wind whipped through the air forcing Alex to pull the collar of his wool coat up around his neck.

  “You look…” He took a step toward me and paused, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. “You look really nice.”

  His compliment caught me off guard. “Oh… well… thank you.” I blinked several times before I continued, “Did you not hear me just now? I need to be somewhere.”

  His perfectly white teeth sank into his bottom lip as he looked off into the distance. Still with no answer, something changed in his face. He
was really shaken up.

  “Hey,” I called softly. “Alex, are you okay?”

  His shoulders stiffened at the sound of my voice. Turning his gaze slowly back in my direction, the cocky arrogance returned. His lips kicked up in a half smile as his eyes roamed from my face down my body and back up again.

  “Going somewhere, huh?” he asked.

  “Yes. I have plans. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be late.”

  His eyes darkened. “I told you I was coming back.”

  I scoffed, my fingernails digging into the palm of each hand as I clenched my fists to rein in my anger. “You should have been a little more specific. See, I assumed you were coming back yesterday so I waited. For twelve damn hours I sat like a pathetic puppy dog and waited for you to come back. And you didn’t. Yet you think you can show up, more than an entire day later, and expect me to still be waiting for you? Sorry, pal, it doesn’t work that way.” Reaching into my purse, I pulled out my keys and stomped toward my car. I pushed the button to unlock and had almost made it to the door before Alex stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Move,” I commanded.

  He didn’t. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest, planted his feet wide and stared down at me.

  “Please move,” I tried again, but he stood firm.

  I reached out, hoping to force him out of the way and get into my car, but no luck. He was like a freaking tree. A big, tall, stupid, sexy-as-hell tree.

  And he made me furious.

  “Seriously?” I huffed. “I need to meet Max at four and I can’t be late.”

  Alex bent at the waist, which put his face directly in front of mine. “Max Mayland?”

  “Yes,” I spat.

  “You got a date, Lizzie?”

  I rolled my eyes, “Obviously.”

  His eyes darkened as he stepped closer. His chest brushed against mine, and even through our thick coats, I could feel his body heat.

  I waited, worried I had pushed him too far with my catty remark. But instead of getting angry, he reached up and laid his hand against my cheek. Beyond my control, my eyes fluttered closed and I leaned into his hand. Something about his touch soothed my soul. Like I’d been drifting, and he anchored me, bringing me a sense of peace causing every flailing variable of my life to click perfectly into place.