by Tami Lund
RJ chuckled. “Even little old ladies with blue hair get twitchy around cops.”
Hillary grabbed Nina’s hand and tugged her out of the office, presumably to collect their backpacks.
Jessica stood there, arms folded, foot tapping a mile a minute. He gave her a mock salute and stepped out into the hall. He was already sick of dealing with her and they’d only been talking for ten minutes or so.
When the girls returned, he signed them out at the front desk and led them out to the parking lot. “You get to ride in a police car,” he informed Nina.
“It’s not a real cop car,” his daughter corrected him. “It’s an undercover cop car.”
“That’s still real,” he protested.
“It doesn’t have all the lights on the roof or the colors or the writing and stuff on it.”
“No, but it has the cage in the back, and there’s no door handles, so criminals can’t escape once we stick them in the back seat.”
“Can we ride in the back seat?” Nina asked, smiling up at him in that same angelic way Hillary did. That way that he knew was going to make him a sucker when his daughter was sixteen and wanted a car—or worse, wanted to date.
He was a cop and he knew how to intimidate people. Those boys were going to have to be damned worthy if they thought they had a chance with his precious daughter.
“Absolutely,” he said, opening the door of his nondescript but still badass gray Challenger so the girls could climb into the back. Those plastic seats were uncomfortable as hell and the space always made him a little claustrophobic, but to an eight-year-old child, it was an exciting experience.
“Will you turn on the lights?” Nina asked.
“Sorry, sweetheart, no lights.” Although it might be fun to turn them on as he pulled into the driveway, on the off chance her uncle was home. Yeah, sometimes cops were sadistic like that. “All right, where to?”
She pointed at the path she probably walked every single day of the week, and he gunned the engine a little as he pulled out of the school parking lot.
She really did live only two blocks away, so the drive was over in minutes. He parked in front of a seafoam-green Victorian house with a steep, gabled roof and a porch that spanned the length of the structure. Flowers bloomed in a riot of colors, taking up nearly half the front yard.
He should probably walk Nina to the door and explain why he was dropping the kid off. He climbed out of the car and freed the two girls from the back seat and followed as they rushed up the steps onto the porch.
The girls were already inside by the time he reached for the door, and he heard a woman’s voice say, “Nina. Did you walk home alone? It’s not even time for the bell to ring yet. And who’s this?”
“Mommy, we got in trouble today and Hillary’s dad brought us home,” Nina announced.
“What? You got into trouble? What happened? And what do you mean, Hillary’s dad brought you home? You—oh.”
RJ stepped over the threshold into a wide foyer with sleek wooden floors and pale blue walls. The curtains were white with blue flowers. The framed pictures on the walls were typical New England artwork: water, flowers, covered bridges. No doubt there was at least one picture of fall color somewhere in this house. Probably more than one.
All of that detail slipped from his steel-trap mind when the woman stepped into view. Straight, dark hair that fell to just below her shoulders. Small eyes, pert nose, Cupid’s bow lips—she made him think of elves. Or fairies. Definitely fairies. She was stately like a fairy. Not that he was an expert, but Hillary loved the Renaissance festival and had a healthy obsession with the creatures, so he’d picked up a few facts over the years. Like that they were tall, elegant, and beautiful.
Her shoulders were narrow, her breasts small, and she was thin, with slender hips too. She was freaking gorgeous.
Nina said her dad wasn’t in the picture, right?
“Hi,” he said, offering a small wave but not moving any farther into the home to shake her hand, in case she was one of those types who didn’t like people walking in her house with shoes on. “I’m RJ Karney. Hillary’s dad.” He indicated the staircase behind her, where his daughter had disappeared with Nina.
The woman glanced over her shoulder and back at him, her brow furrowed, her hands clenched by her sides. Like she was nervous. Or maybe worried.
“The trouble was minor,” he assured her. “Stupid prank. Well, I’m not even sure it was a prank. I think they were just curious. You know how kids are.” He never rambled. Christ, what was wrong with him?
She glanced over her shoulder again. “The school allowed you to leave with my daughter?”
“No. I mean, it’s okay. I’m a—”
“Cop.”
A guy stepped into the foyer to RJ’s right, pulling the door closed behind him before RJ could see much more than a desk strewn with papers. He had what was probably a perpetual five o’clock shadow, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and a lot of muscle. Looked Italian.
Is this Uncle Antonio?
RJ glanced at the woman again. Other than the dark hair, there was no resemblance between the two of them.
“Exactly. Only reason the school would have let her go without your permission,” RJ explained.
The woman looked at the man, almost like she was seeking advice. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. There was a gold band on his left ring finger.
Mommy or Uncle Antonio or Aunt Phoebe usually comes to school to walk me home.
Based on Nina’s comments and the fact that there was not a matching band on her mom’s left ring finger, RJ made the assumption that Aunt Phoebe was Uncle Antonio’s significant other.
Which meant Mom was possibly single.
RJ’s heart beat a tiny bit faster.
“So, what can we do for you, officer?” the guy asked.
“It’s detective, actually,” he said. “I’m delivering Nina home safely. And letting you know that she was involved in a small prank at school today.”
“What happened?” the woman asked.
RJ clapped his hand onto the back of his neck. Now he understood why Jessica had such a hard time telling him this story. “Uh, well, they, uh, flushed something down a toilet and it overflowed.”
The Italian guy snorted. “That required a visit from the cops? I had no idea this town took kids’ pranks so seriously.”
RJ rolled his eyes. “It didn’t require anything. It was almost the end of the day and I was taking Hillary home and offered to drop Nina off on our way.”
The lady turned her blindingly beautiful smile onto RJ and he almost forgot how to breathe.
“Thank you for bringing her home. I’ll make sure she understands not to flush anything inappropriate down the toilet from now on.”
RJ smiled back. “It’s okay.” He thrust out his arm and walked across the room toward her, shoes be damned. “I figure I should know your name since our daughters apparently like to hang out and get into mischief together.”
After a glance at the Italian guy, she slid her hand into his. Her shake was firm, confident. No dead fish handshake for this woman. RJ liked that. And her.
“Margot,” she said. Another look to the guy standing by her side. “Margot Swanson.”
2
He’s Just A Cop
Margot half-filled two glasses with red wine and handed one to Antonio. “He’s a cop.”
“A detective,” Antonio corrected, accepting the drink and lifting it to his lips. “Who was definitely giving you the eye.” He waggled his brows.
“The eye? What in the world does that mean?”
Antonio motioned with the glass. “You know. The ‘I’m interested’ look. Or have you really been out of the dating game for so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like when a guy expresses interest in you?”
She took a gulp of wine. “Well, since I was married to your brother, I think you know the answer to that one. I’ve been on one date since I divorced Gino four years ago, and we
all know how that ended.”
He nodded. “Here in Nowhere, New Hampshire.”
Actually, the town was named Sleepyville.
Yes, really.
There were less than five thousand residents in this town, and most were friendly but not nosy. Two years ago, she, Nina, Antonio, and Phoebe fled Detroit in the middle of the night to escape the mob, and found this perfect house with plenty of room for all of them and a top-notch elementary school two blocks away. Antonio and Phoebe had a quiet wedding ceremony on the beach, and Margot joined the PTA and started volunteering at a nursing home two days a week. Phoebe recently began her tenure as president of the Sleepyville Gardening Club. Antonio continued to hold Gino’s money hostage and scoured the internet for information regarding his brother’s illegal empire.
So far, all had remained quiet since they walked away from Gino Sarvilli’s world.
“I love my life,” Margot said. “I don’t want to disrupt it.”
“By considering dating again? Gino’s in prison, Margot. And I’ve got his money under lock and key. He can’t get to it, which means he can’t get to us. So you’re free to finally have a life.”
“Maybe you’re right. But not with a cop. Sorry, detective. Which is even worse. Think about Proctor.”
“I’d really rather not.” Antonio wrinkled his nose and frowned. The detective from Detroit had been relentless in his pursuit of Margot’s ex-husband. He’d also been an ass to Margot and obnoxiously rude to Antonio, and probably everyone else in his life. He definitely wouldn’t win any personality contests.
Not like Detective RJ Karney. He’d been polite and a little bit awkward. Not to mention breathtakingly handsome.
“But he’s still a cop.”
“Sure. I mean, I assume he is. He closed the biggest case of his career two years ago. Why quit the force at that point?” Antonio mused.
“Not Proctor, silly. I’m talking about RJ. He’s a cop, which means it’s a bad idea for me to even think about his gorgeous blue eyes and all those muscles and that charming personality.”
“Sounds like you’ve already done a lot of thinking about him in the”—he glanced at his watch—“five hours since he left the house.”
She wrapped one arm around her stomach and wandered over to the window overlooking the backyard. The deck was surrounded by flowers, courtesy of Phoebe’s green thumb. They lined the driveway, too, and overflowed the planters attached to the wooden fence. A swing set and a trampoline were set up in the middle of the riot of sunny colors.
“This place is starting to feel like home,” she said. “I don’t want to take the chance of screwing this up.”
“Screwing what up?”
Margot glanced over her shoulder as Phoebe stepped into the room. Her hair was wet; she’d just taken a shower after playing outside in the dirt all day. She hugged Antonio from behind and dropped a kiss on his neck before pouring herself a glass of wine at the counter.
“Our life,” Margot murmured.
Phoebe shot a swift glance at Antonio. “Did Gino figure out how to get to his money?”
He shook his head. “Nope. All’s well on that front. But Margot met a guy earlier, and now she’s all stressed out about the idea that he might be interested in her.”
“You met a guy?” Phoebe asked. “That’s great. Isn’t it?”
“It would be, if he weren’t a police officer,” Margot replied. “What if he gets nosy and starts digging into our past? We’ve all had this last name for only two years. A detective can find that stuff out.”
“Why would he?” Antonio asked. “He has no reason to connect us to something that happened in another state two years ago. Margot, Nina, and Antonio Sarvilli, plus Phoebe Cavanaugh all disappeared off the face of the planet. They don’t exist anymore. And there’s no connection between them and us.” He dropped a hand onto Margot’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Quit worrying, Margot, and start enjoying yourself.”
The next afternoon, Margot headed up to the school to walk Nina home. As she passed a gray Challenger waiting in the pickup lane, the window rolled down and a masculine voice said, “Hey there, Margot.”
She bent slightly to get a better view of the person…RJ sitting in the driver’s seat. His dark hair was disheveled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, but his pale blue eyes and smile were warm and friendly.
Maybe a little more than friendly.
“Er, hello, RJ.”
He climbed out of the car and ambled over. She hadn’t realized yesterday just how large the man was. He was as broad shouldered as Antonio, maybe even a little more so. Did he have a flat stomach under that polo shirt? Six-pack abs? That positively delectable V-shaped muscle over his hips?
Why the heck was she even wondering? Okay, yes, she was lonely, and yes, he was attractive, but he was also a cop, and despite Antonio’s reassurance last night, she wasn’t convinced the idea of dating someone in law enforcement was a good one.
“I’m guessing our daughters didn’t get into trouble today,” he said. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and leaned against the car.
“That’s good. Nina’s usually a good girl. I’m not sure what provoked the pad flushing incident.”
RJ shrugged. “Curiosity, probably. And to be honest, my kid’s not a great influence. You probably don’t want yours hanging out with her.”
Margot stared at him. Was he serious? Did he really—?
“I’m kidding.” He lifted his hands, palms out, like he was surrendering.
“Oh. Right.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Sorry. I mean, they are only eight, right? They’re going to get into trouble sooner or later.”
“Yeah, our job as parents is to do our best to show them the right path and hope to hell they’re absorbing what we’re teaching them.”
Margot nodded.
The bell rang and, as if someone opened a dam, kids poured out of the building and raced every which way. Nina and Hillary came running toward them, hand in hand.
“Hey, Dad!”
“Hi, Mom!”
Nina wrapped her arms around Margot’s waist; Hillary gave her dad a high five.
“Ready to go, kiddo?” RJ asked.
“Can Nina come over and play for a little while? Please?”
“Yeah, can I, Mom? Can I? Please?”
“Er…” This was the first time Nina had asked to go to another child’s house since they moved to Sleepyville. He’s a cop, Margot. He isn’t going to hurt her. He isn’t going to kidnap her. He isn’t going to…
She cleared her throat. “Sure. Um, that’s fine.”
“It’s only because they want to ride in the back of a cop car,” RJ said. “I live in an apartment, so I’m sure your house is way more fun.”
“We’ll come to my house tomorrow,” Nina piped up.
“Oh,” Margot said. “Okay.”
“I’ll feed them dinner and bring her home around seven,” RJ said. “Does that work?”
She nodded. He ushered the girls into the back seat of his gray car. “All right, I’ll see you later.”
Margot nodded. Did he sound hopeful?
“Wait,” she blurted.
He paused in the act of opening the driver’s side door.
“Are you…are you married?” Why was she asking? He wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. And what did it matter?
He smiled. “Nope. Divorced for five years now.”
And then he hopped into the car and took off.
Margot walked home in a daze. As much as this new, warm fuzzy feeling in her chest felt, well, good, she was equally afraid of it. The first time she was attracted to a man since Gino and he was a cop. Oh, the irony.
Oh, the frustration.
“Where’s Nina?” Antonio asked when she stepped through the front door. He stood in the arched entryway to the dining room, holding a bag of chips in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
/> “She, uh, went to a friend’s house. She’ll be home after dinner.”
“That’s great. I was getting a little worried given how long it seemed to be taking her to make friends here.”
“It’s RJ’s daughter. That detective.”
“Even better. Maybe you can both make a new friend.” He winked. “And by friend, I mean—”
“I know what you mean, and it isn’t happening.” No matter how many flips her belly did when she confirmed that he was a bachelor. A handsome and friendly bachelor, who, like Antonio said last night, had definitely been giving her the eye.
“Hey, take my word for it: the good ones make great marriage material.” He winked again and wandered into his office.
Later that evening, RJ dropped off Nina as Margot hovered at the base of the stairs, wringing her hands. God, why was she so damn nervous?
“Did you have a good time, kiddo?” Antonio asked.
Nina nodded vigorously. “RJ let me pick hard shell or soft shell tacos,” she announced. “He didn’t make me eat whatever you choose to make.”
RJ chuckled.
“It’s time for your bath,” Margot said.
“I’ll get her started,” Antonio said far too cheerfully, and before she could protest, he herded her little girl up the stairs.
RJ watched them until they disappeared at the top. “This feels a little like a set up.”
Margot started to run her hand through her hair but stopped when she realized she’d pulled it back into a bun. Ugh. Hopefully, she hadn’t tugged out the strands so that they were standing up every which way. “Um, he’s, um…”
“He just wants Margot to be happy,” Phoebe said, striding into the room with her arm outstretched. “I’m Phoebe. It’s nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand. “RJ Karney. Nice to meet you, too. I take it you’re Antonio’s wife?”
Phoebe nodded and grinned. “Yep. Almost two years now.”
“So does that make you two…?” RJ waved his finger between them.
“Sisters,” Margot blurted.
Phoebe furrowed her brow and Margot plastered a wide, fake smile on her face.