That day was a turning point in their relationship. The following day, once in their patrol car, she sat behind the wheel, staring straight ahead for a few long moments.
“O’Neil?” Jason said, not sure what was wrong.
She turned her head to look at him. “You’re saying I need to loosen up,” she said simply, making him realize she’d thought about this all day long.
“I’m saying you need to cut loose every now and then, or you’re going to make yourself old long before your time,” Jason said seriously.
Rhiannon nodded, then turned to face forward. After a minute she shrugged, nodding again. “Okay.”
Nothing more was said that night about the conversation the morning before, but Jason noticed the next day that Rhiannon was suddenly more open and sociable. She started making conversation with him, laughing when suspects came on to her, even joking with him about all his “girlfriends.” She confided later that her father had always told her that being a police officer was serious business, not to be taken lightly. That their responsibility was great, and that they needed to treat everything with professionalism. It had been ingrained in her from childhood.
“O’Neil, no offense, but your father was from the old school, and that’s why so many of the cops from the old school are divorced alcoholics. They had no outlet for the stress they were under every day.”
Rhiannon nodded, understanding what he was saying. Remembering the depressions her father would go through, when he only wanted to be alone. It was difficult to face the reality that her father had had his flaws; she’d always been afraid to admit them, even to herself. After all, he was her daddy and she’d loved him dearly.
“Loving him meant you accepted his flaws,” Jason said one morning at breakfast when she brought up her previous obtuseness. “It doesn’t mean he didn’t have any. And you’re not sullying his memory by realizing what his faults were and making sure you don’t make the same mistakes.”
Rhiannon grinned. “How’d you get so wise, Templeton?”
Jason grinned back at her. “A whole family full of cops.”
He told her about his family: his father, who was ex-highway patrol; his mother, who was a dispatcher; his brother, who worked for the sheriff’s department in Kansas somewhere. His uncles, who were both Federal Department of Justice. Even his aunt, who was a customs agent.
Jason found that Rhiannon had a very definite quality about her. On the one hand, she was a good cop; she did her job well, and tried to learn as much as she could. On the other hand, she had this vulnerability that lay just under the surface, which she rarely showed him. Something made him want her to share that side with him. She was very intelligent, so their conversations were always lively. She’d also learned quickly that she was “allowed” to disagree with him, so when she didn’t agree with something he said, she argued. She never, however, disagreed with him on the job. She trusted his knowledge on everything pertaining to police work. So while he found it great that she questioned things about his views on politics, life, and love, it was a big compliment to him that she trusted his abilities as a training officer so thoroughly.
Three weeks after they’d gotten to this new level in their partnership, Rhiannon came down with the flu. She called off shift two days in a row, which for her was monumental. After the second day, Jason decided to check up on her, to make sure she was okay.
She answered the door to her apartment in a bathrobe, with her hair up in a towel. She looked surprised to see him.
“Jason,” she said. “What are you doing here?” It was obvious from the sound of her voice that she was congested, and her face was pale.
“Came to check on you—see if you needed anything,” he said, not wanting her to think he was checking up on her in terms of her calling off sick.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked, standing back and opening the door wider.
“Sure,” he said, and walked inside.
Rhiannon went over to the couch, where it was obvious she’d been lying. There was a pillow and blanket, a coffee mug with a tea bag label hanging out of it, and tissues.
“All set up, I see,” he said, gesturing to the couch and coffee table.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Do you want to sit down?” she asked, moving her blanket out of the way.
He nodded, sitting down a couple of feet away from her.
“Are you feeling any better?” he asked solicitously.
She grimaced. “Not really. I thought a shower might help,” she said, gesturing to the towel on her head. “But it didn’t really.”
“Do you need anything? Medicine, hot soup, anything?” he asked, sounding like a concerned parent.
“Company?” Rhiannon said hesitantly.
“I can do that,” Jason said, grinning.
They sat and talked for a little bit. He caught her up on what had been happening while she was out. They watched some TV for a while. When it was obvious she was getting tired, he told her he was going to get going. She walked him to the door.
He turned around and looked down at her. “Get some rest, and make sure you dry that hair before you do. If you get a chill you’ll get more sick.”
“Okay,” she said simply, looking like the obedient child.
“I’ll come check on you before shift tonight. Don’t even think of coming back tonight, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, the beginnings of a grin on her lips.
“Don’t ‘yes, sir’ me, young lady—just do what you’re told,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll see you tonight.” He gave her a long look, then turned and walked out the door.
That evening he showed up with hot soup in hand. She thanked him for his thoughtfulness. He noted her hair was in its usual bun and wondered idly if he’d ever see it down.
“Isn’t that uncomfortable?” he asked, pointing to her hair.
“What?” she said, reaching back to touch the bun. “This? No, not really. It’s easier than getting all tangled up in it when I sleep. And with my fever and all, it’s so hot when it’s down.”
“Okay…” he said, trailing off as he shook his head. He never understood women’s thinking.
Rhiannon grinned. “Trust me on this, Templeton.”
They talked about how she was doing, and when she thought she’d be back. She tried to say she’d be back the next night; he told her she’d be back the night after that if she was still feeling better.
When Rhiannon didn’t say anything, Jason gave her a stern look. “This is when you say ‘yes, sir.’”
Rhiannon looked rebellious. He narrowed his eyes. She sighed. “Okay—yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
“Very patronizing, Sergeant,” she countered.
“Was it?”
“Yes, unless I’m a dog.”
“You’re not a dog.”
“No.”
“Then you aren’t a good girl?” he asked, grinning.
“I’ve been an angel since the day I was born.”
“See? I was right.”
“Ugh!” she said, throwing up her hands.
Jason laughed. “You’ll never win, O’Neil. Face it.”
“We’ll see.”
“Uh-huh,” he replied, giving her a suspicious look. “I’m gonna take off. You get some more rest.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied obediently.
“You’re learning,” he said, chucking her under the chin as he grinned down at her.
“I’ve been taught by the best.”
“Yes, you have,” he replied, smiling now.
He left, only to return the following morning with tea and croissants, her usual breakfast. That evening he came back with soup again, and again the following morning with breakfast. Rhiannon was endlessly amused and warmed by the fact that her FTO was such a big softy. She told him that the third morning he was over.
“Soft? Me?” he replied. “No, I just want you back to full strength so I don’t have to keep doing your
job and mine.” His tone was stern, and for a moment he managed a straight face, only to ruin the effect with his ever-affable grin.
“Yeah… big, tough guy,” Rhiannon said with a nod, looking far from convinced. “Well, I’ll be on tonight, so you don’t have to worry anymore.”
“Good,” he said sharply. Then he broke into a grin again. “I’m gettin’ lonely.”
“Ahh…” Rhiannon said, laughing.
“Yeah, shut up,” Jason grumbled.
He left a short time later, and Rhiannon again reflected on her luck. How much luckier could she have gotten? An FTO that was a good teacher as well as a hell of a nice guy.
Rhiannon showed up on shift that night, but it was very obvious she still wasn’t feeling 100 percent. Jason told her to go back home, but she refused, citing that she didn’t have that much sick leave on the books and she couldn’t afford to be off payroll. He couldn’t argue with that, so he conceded. He refused to let her drive that evening; he also thanked God that it was the middle of the week, so it was generally quiet on their shift. By the end of the night, it was obvious she was fighting to stay awake.
“Do you have meds with you?” he asked, glancing over at her while they completed paperwork on the few calls they’d handled in the last two hours.
“Yes, but I can’t take them yet.”
“Why?”
“Because they make me sleepy, and I have to drive home.”
“When were you planning to take them?”
“Right before I leave the office.”
“They could still hit you before you get home,” he pointed out. “Especially considering how tired you’ve been tonight.”
Rhiannon shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll wait till I get home.”
“I have a better idea.”
“What?”
“I live downtown. Why don’t you just crash at my place and then you can go home later tonight, since we’re off for the next two days.”
“I don’t want to impose, Jason,” she said, feeling like the world’s biggest pain in the butt.
“O’Neil, the imposition would be if you managed to get yourself killed on the way home,” he said sternly. “All that good training gone to waste—and think about the paperwork I’d have to do.”
Rhiannon grinned. “I know, I know—you hate paperwork.”
“I hate losing good trainees more,” he said seriously.
Rhiannon looked back at him for a long time. She sighed. “Okay, you win. I’ll crash at your place this morning.”
“Good.”
After they got off shift, she followed him the three short minutes from the department to his loft in the Gaslamp Quarter. Walking in, she noticed that he seemed to favor casual and comfortable furniture over style. His couch was a sectional, large, overstuffed, and covered in a simple navy material. There was a matching recliner and foot stool. His coffee table was simple but nice in oak; his kitchen table and chairs were oak as well.
“Do you want anything to eat before you take your meds?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
He walked into his kitchen area and got her a glass of water while she pulled the medicine in its little packet out of her purse. He handed her the glass and she swallowed the pills. Then he showed her to his bedroom.
“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep out there on the couch.”
“Jason, I don’t want to put you out.”
“Hey,” he said, grinning again. “How do you know the couch isn’t more comfortable than my bed?”
“Is it?”
“I’ll take the fifth on that one,” he said, laughing. “Seriously, though, this way you’ll have some privacy, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, too tired to argue anymore. She was surprised to note that his room was clean and his bed was made. “You’re a good boy, Templeton. You make your bed before you go to work and everything?”
Jason shook his head. “Are you kidding? I have a lady that comes in every other day to clean. I’m basically a slob.”
She laughed. “Oh, so I got the lucky day?”
“Yep,” he said. He left the room, and she took off her shoes and jeans and got under the covers. It felt strange, being in his room, in his bed. She looked around. There weren’t any pictures on the walls, but she saw his uniforms hanging in the closet on the side that was open, and he had a few pictures of what had to be his family on his dresser. She made a mental note to look at the pictures later if she got a chance. She already felt herself drifting off to sleep. Turning her head, she realized she must be on the side of the bed he usually slept on, because the pillow smelled like his cologne. She inhaled deeply and felt a warm tingle flow through her. For once she didn’t stop to analyze what that meant, just let herself drift off.
She woke to the sound of his voice softly calling her name. When she opened her eyes, he was sitting on the side of the bed. She had no way of knowing he’d been sitting there for about ten minutes, just watching her sleep. It was dim in the room, indicating daylight was fading. She noticed that he was dressed in different clothes.
She sat up, missing the stunned look on his face as she rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Five thirty,” he said, his voice sounding a little strange.
She lowered her hands and looked at him, seeing that he wasn’t looking at her face but her shoulder. She glanced down and realized that her hair had come loose while she’d slept. It now lay in waves over her shoulders and halfway to her waist. She grinned.
“Jesus Christ, O’Neil,” he said, his tone a bit awed. “You have hair.”
Rhiannon laughed softly. “You didn’t think I had hair?”
“Well, I knew you had hair, but I didn’t realize just how much.”
“Now you see why I pull it up so much. It’s really a hindrance. I’ve been thinking of getting it cut ever since the academy.”
“Don’t you dare,” he said seriously, then looked abashed at having said what he’d been thinking without checking it first. “Uh…” he stammered, but Rhiannon laughed.
“That’s exactly what my dad would have said. That’s why I’ve always kept it long. He always said, ‘Females were meant to have long hair!’ Upon reflection it is a bit sexist, but…” She shrugged.
There was a long moment of silence, then Jason took a deep breath and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
“I think we have a problem, O’Neil,” he said, his voice serious again.
“We do?” she asked, surprised.
He glanced at her, his eyes moving to her hair, then down from her shoulders over her legs, which were exposed, since she’d kicked the covers off while she’d slept. His gaze swept back up to her face. “Yes, we do.”
Rhiannon suddenly looked confused and worried. “What’s the problem?” Had she done something wrong? Had she gotten too comfortable in his presence? Had she said something she shouldn’t?
Jason looked directly into her eyes. “The problem is that I want you,” he said simply.
So simply in fact that it took her a long moment to catch on to what he’d said, and before she could respond his lips were on hers. She was stunned at first, but realized suddenly that her body was responding strongly. His hand was at her waist, his other touching her face, sliding through her hair. Within moments she was kissing him back—there was no more hesitation. When her hands slid up his chest and her arms encircled his neck, both his arms went around her, pulling her closer, the kiss deepening dramatically, as if he’d been holding himself back until then.
After a few minutes, he laid her back on the bed, still kissing her. His hand was at her cheek, cupping her face, his thumb stroking her skin. After a few moments, his hands slid down to her neck, and inside her shirt to touch her bare shoulder. She grasped at his back at the feeling of his hand on her bare skin. Jason reached up and pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside, wanting to feel her hands on him too. She obliged that desire by running her hands over his back; her nails
—always kept trimmed but never too short—grazed his skin, making him shiver. When it was obvious he wasn’t going to go any farther than she indicated she wanted him to, she reached between them and unbuttoned her shirt. She’d gotten two buttons undone when his hands moved to finish the job.
His appreciative low whistle greeted the first sight of her body. He had figured that all that time at the gym would have taken away any signs of femininity, but he’d been wrong. Her body was well toned, but very definitely feminine. Rhiannon was delighting in the sight of his body as well. He was well muscled, more so than she’d thought he’d be; his clothes hid a lot.
He took it slowly, caressing every inch of her skin, seeming to take pleasure in awakening every sense she had. She writhed with pleasure, doing her best to touch him in the same way, but knowing that she was far too inexperienced at this to be as effective as he was. She had in fact had only one other lover, an inept one at that. Jason knew exactly what he was doing, and she was sure she was going to go crazy if he didn’t consummate this new level of their relationship soon.
“Jason, please…” she finally begged, her voice a husky whisper against his ear.
She heard him take a sharp breath, not realizing that he was having to rein in his own desire to keep from losing control; hearing her voice like that, so close, had sent an almost electric pulse along his nerves, screaming for release.
Once he was in control of his passion, he did as she wanted. They made love, and he brought them to a climax together. His mouth was near her ear as he reached his release, saying her name over and over again, shortening it to what sounded like “Rannon” in the final moment.
They didn’t talk about what they were doing, this relationship they had. They talked about everything else, but Rhiannon was terrified that someone would find out and he’d get into trouble. She was, after all, his trainee. Because she was afraid to point it out and lose him, she didn’t say anything, hoping that would keep anything from happening. They spent every morning after work at his loft, making love and talking about everything from Vietnam to cars, from weather to music.
Past in the Present (MidKnight Blue Book 9) Page 20