Divorced, Desperate and Daring

by Christie Craig

  “No, not sad. I’m honored.” He sat down on the other wing of the sofa, keeping his distance.

  She leaned back. Her heavy lids lowered. “I think I’m tired.”

  “You need to sleep.”

  “I think you’re right.” She curled up in a little ball and rested her head on the arm of the sofa, but she just stared at him. “I shouldn’t have looked at the photo album. That was my mistake.”

  “What?” he asked, not following her.

  “You looked sad in some of them. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

  “I—”

  “You deserved better,” she said, and she looked like she was about to cry. “How could parents do that?”

  His chest tightened. “I’m not sad anymore.”

  “Good.” She cut him a sexy grin. “Bet you’d have been happier if we’d had sex.”

  He chuckled and pushed the nostalgia away. “True.”

  “I think I’m going to go to sleep now.”

  “You do that.” He stood up and debated telling her to go to his bed where she’d be a little more comfortable, but his gut said she wouldn’t do it.

  He reached down and brushed his hand over her head. “I’m going to get you a pillow and blanket.”

  She didn’t answer. He went to his hall closet and pulled out two pillows and two blankets. Walking back, he gently tucked a pillow close to her head, so as not to wake her, and draped a blanket over her.

  Then he went to the other wing of the sofa and found a reclined position where he could watch her sleep. Taco came over and butted him with his nose and then curled up on the floor right beside him, where he, too, could keep an eye on his owner.

  Danny dropped his hand down and rubbed the dog’s head. “How about we share her?” he whispered to the dog.

  Then together they watched her sleep. She looked . . . precious. She looked vulnerable. She looked so damn right sleeping here.

  In his apartment.

  In his living room.

  In his life.

  How the hell was he going to convince her to stay?

  How was he going to stop breaking out in hives whenever he thought about her staying?

  That feeling. The same damn feeling he’d gotten that night he’d left her at the hotel started to build in his chest.

  Difference was, he wasn’t running this time.

  For six damn months, he’d craved a second chance, and now he had it. Hives be damned.

  • • •

  “Danny? Are you still in bed?”

  The feminine voice roused Sheri from her sleep. Before she opened her eyes, memories came pouring into her brain. Right along with a pounding headache.

  Bomb.

  Danny.

  Brandy.

  Feminine voice?

  Sheri heard footsteps moving in the apartment and then she heard Taco’s paws clicking on the wood floor to check on the footsteps. Both of which sounded way too loud.

  “What the hell?” the feminine voice muttered. “Danny,” she called out in a low, panicked voice.

  Sheri pushed up a few inches to see over the sofa’s back. A woman stood plastered against the wall, holding what looked like a doughnut box over her head. Taco leaned in. He loved doughnuts.

  Sheri blinked and stared at the woman.

  Blond.

  Beautiful.

  Familiar.

  Shit!

  It was the same woman from . . .

  “Danny!” the blonde screamed, glancing down the hall.

  Sheri dropped back down before the woman saw her. Still trying to wrap her head around this, she felt something shift on the sofa and looked to her right, where Danny slept on the other side of the sectional. Their feet almost touched.

  Sheri butt-scooted down a few inches and kicked his foot.

  He didn’t even budge.

  She kicked him again. Harder.

  “What?” He sat up. Sleep filled his confused expression.

  She glared at him and pointed behind her.

  “What?” he asked again.

  “Danny! Get this beast off of me!” The blonde yelled.

  Danny shot up off the sofa. Sheri stayed down, hoping to slip between the cushions and disappear. Her mind started racing, trying to remember last night.

  She recalled killing clowns.

  She recalled drinking brandy.

  She recalled . . . kissing him. She recalled . . .

  Emotions flooded her. Had they . . . ?

  “Danny, do something!” the blonde screamed again.

  The only thing Danny did was run a hand over his face. “Anna,” he said. “What are you . . . ?

  Sheri pressed a hand to her pounding temple. What the hell had she been thinking, coming here when she already knew . . . ?

  Oh, yeah, because someone had sent her a bomb and tried to break into her condo.

  Still wrong. A voice echoed in her head. And then she’d drank too much brandy and . . .

  Sheri’s gaze shot back to Danny. He still had on his jeans. Sheri blinked to get the sleep out of her eyes. Then she saw the bulge at his crotch. She closed her eyes. Now Anna was sure to think . . .

  But they hadn’t, had they?

  Surely, she’d remember . . . that. Wouldn’t she?

  “He doesn’t bite. He just wants to sniff you,” Danny said.

  “Well, I don’t want to be sniffed!” the blonde squealed.

  Sheri stayed ducked down. Did he want her to stay out of sight so his girlfriend wouldn’t know she was here?

  “This is perfect,” he muttered.

  Not perfect. So not perfect.

  “What’s perfect?” the blonde asked.

  “Uh, Anna, I want you to meet Sheri,” Danny said.

  “I thought you called it Taco?”

  “The dog’s Taco.” Danny looked down at her, still hiding. “This . . . is Sheri.” He motioned to where she lay and then he moved around the sofa—no doubt to pull the dog away from the doughnuts.

  With no option now, Sheri sat up, ran a hand though her hair and turned so she could see the woman. But dear Lord, if she had to meet Danny’s girlfriend, it would have been nice not to have a hangover or the breath of a gorilla.

  “Hi,” Sheri said.

  The blonde’s gaze widened when it landed on her.

  On the tip of Sheri’s tongue were a thousand words, all jumbled excuses to why she was here and why the woman shouldn’t take offense.

  “Hi.” The blonde said, but her focus quickly zipped back to Taco. Sheri’s focus stayed on the woman. She wore a running suit. A fitted running suit that showed off her feminine shape. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, but just enough of it hung loose and framed her heart-shaped face to make her look slightly breezy and sort of sexy.

  Then breezy-and-sexy let out another yelp when Taco moved closer.

  “Taco, no!” Danny ordered and attempted to pull the dog back. Both the dog and Danny looked half asleep. “I got him,” he assured the blonde.

  Her gaze shifted from Taco to Sheri.

  Sheri waited for the conversation to take a drastic turn. One with accusations and anger. Suddenly, wanting to defuse it before it started, she said, “Someone tried to break into my condo last night. Danny was just being polite by bringing me here.”

  Danny, still holding Taco by the collar, looked . . . almost happy. What was he so damn happy about? “Sheri, I’d like you—”

  “Nothing happened last night,” Sheri blurted out, finally recalling Danny telling her no.

  “You mean besides someone trying to break in?” The blonde appeared perplexed.

  “Yeah.” Sheri felt perplexed, too, and her head pounded. “We killed clowns. On a video game.” She should seriously shut up, but the words kept falling out. “No clothes came off.” Then she noted her shirt was inside out and the memory of Danny putting it back on her fell on her like pitchforks. “For long.” She slapped a hand over her mouth.

  The woman eyed Danny. “That . . . do
esn’t sound like much fun.”

  Sheri stood up. She reached for her phone on the coffee table. If things got ugly, she could call Uber. Hopefully one that didn’t mind transporting lion-sized dogs.

  Taco broke loose of Danny’s hold. The blonde screamed.

  Danny shot forward and caught the dog by his collar, two handed this time.

  He glanced back again. Sheri couldn’t read his expression. But he didn’t look worried. Why didn’t he look worried? Did he and this woman have an open relationship?

  Oh, hell, she didn’t care if they had an open relationship. She’d never been into sharing. “We didn’t . . . do anything,” Sheri put it out there. But was that a lie?

  Then she remembered that six months ago they’d pretty much done it all. And they’d kissed. Last night. And he’d touched her. Her breasts.

  She’d literally thrown herself on him. And gotten turned down.

  Ouch! That stung!

  “Please move him back a few more feet,” the blonde muttered.

  “He doesn’t bite.” Danny held the dog, but Taco wasn’t making it easy. “Sheri,” Danny glanced at her while struggling with Taco. “This is Anna. My cousin.”

  Cousin? Cousin?

  His cousin? The blonde was his cousin?

  Anna looked back at Sheri. “Oh, you thought that we were . . .” Anna shot Taco another glance. “I’ve heard a lot about you. But not your dog.”

  Sheri really wished she could say the same. Then again, Danny had mentioned a cousin.

  Blowing her hair out of her face, she got a whiff of her morning breath that could peel lead paint off an old wall. She put a hand over her mouth and saw Danny studying her.

  “How about I make us some coffee?” Danny took a backward step toward the kitchen, dragging Taco with him, but without removing his gaze from her.

  “No,” Anna said. “I’m gonna go and . . . let you two play more video games.” She grinned. “Seriously, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” She looked at Danny. “You’d said we might go running today. But I should have called.”

  “No. Please.” Danny said. “You—and your doughnuts—are staying for coffee. No argument.”

  Anna gave Taco another glance and didn’t look so scared this time, but she didn’t move away from the wall. “Is it my company or the doughnuts that you really want to entertain?”

  “Depends,” Danny said. “If you’ve got a chocolate glazed in there, it’s a hard call.”

  “Gotta love him for being honest.” Anna grinned at Sheri.

  Sheri offered Anna the closest thing to a real smile she could. But this whole thing still felt . . . awkward as hell. Or maybe she just felt stupid. All this time she’d assumed . . .

  But did it make any difference? He’d still left her at the hotel.

  Sheri walked over to her bag leaning beside the wall. “Excuse me for a minute. I think I’ll freshen up.” And see if she could find her dignity. But she’d better hurry. She was certain it was circling the drain right now.

  • • •

  Danny watched Sheri walk down the hall. Part of him wanted to follow her to make sure she was okay. Another part said she wanted to be alone. When he’d first seen Anna, he’d thought this was the answer to all his problems. But damn it to hell and back because for some reason, it didn’t feel like that now. Why not?

  “I’m sorry,” Anna said.

  “Don’t be.” Danny gave the hall one last glance and then moved into the kitchen to make coffee. Anna followed him.

  “She thought I was your girlfriend,” Anna said in low voice.

  She thought it six months ago, too. “I know.” He filled the coffeepot with water.

  “Do you think she believes we’re lying?” Anna set the doughnut box on the table, and when she saw Taco come in, she moved behind a chair.

  He considered her question and grabbed the coffee from the pantry. “No.” But was it going to make a difference? Shit! He ran a hand through his hair. Why did he suddenly feel insecure?

  “You okay?”

  He glanced at Taco, who sat down beside his bowl, and dished out eight scoops of coffee into the filter. Then, realizing how little sleep he had, he added one more. “Yeah, I’m just processing it.” He ran a hand over his mouth.

  “But things are good, right?” Anna asked.

  He looked at her, unsure of what she meant, and hit the button to start his go juice. After coffee, he’d feel better.

  “Between you two,” she said. “She stayed the night here.”

  “Yeah, but . . . not that good. Someone was breaking into her place.”

  “She still trusted you.”

  “There’s that,’ he said. And he wanted that. Wanted her to rely on him. Wanted her here. So why the hell was he shaking inside?

  “You sure you’re okay? You look scared,” she said.

  “No,” he lied, and ran another hand over his face. Then he looked at his cousin, and for God only knew why, the truth slipped out. “Not scared. Terrified. I want that woman to be a part of my life so damn much, it’s all I’ve thought about for the last six months. But now I’m scared shitless that she’ll become a bigger part of it than I want her to.” That if he really let Sheri in, he might end at the same place Tanya left him. The same place his parents left him. “Is that fucked up or what?”

  Empathy filled his cousin’s blue eyes. “Not really fucked up. You were hurt. Kind of like I am. Losing someone you love hurts, and it makes you question if loving anyone is worth it. But I think we’re wrong. I think we just need to take it slow.”

  Slow, he thought. But his heart argued there were no speed controls on whatever vehicle drove this thing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  His cousin sat down at the table, as if her own confession had cost her emotionally as well. She kept a leery eye on Taco and then grabbed a doughnut from the box.

  Danny snagged a chocolate glazed. They ate in silence and listened to the coffeemaker gurgle. After a few more minutes, he retrieved three cups from the cabinet.

  Glancing toward the hall leading to the bathroom, he couldn’t help but worry about what was taking Sheri so long.

  His cell phone rang. It was Chase Kelly. “Yeah,” he answered, and again looked toward the hall for Sheri.

  “Where are you?” Chase tossed out, sounding ten times more alert than Danny felt.

  He heard the coffeemaker still bubbling and wished he’d had caffeine before the day hit him. “Home. Why?”

  “James Talen, the FBI agent from last night, is here. He’s waiting on you. Said you told him you’d be here with Sheri.”

  “I never set a time. I just said first thing in the morning. I’m not on the schedule today.”

  “Well, in his book, eight o’clock constitutes ‘first thing.’ It’s eight fifteen now, and he’s watching the minute hand.”

  “Damn. We were at her place until after two. Doesn’t the guy sleep?”

  “Of course not,” Chase said sarcastically. “Didn’t you know? FBI agents are superhuman. Or so I’ve been told since working with them for the last twenty-four hours.” He chuckled.

  “Tell him to pull his head out of his ass, and I’ll be there within the hour.”

  “Okay, but he’s gonna be pissed.”

  “I don’t give a shit!” Danny growled.

  Anna stood up and caught his eye. She moved cautiously around Taco to pour herself a cup of coffee. Danny inched back into the kitchen and poured himself one, too.

  “I’m gonna go ahead and go,” Anna said in a low voice. “I’ll return your cup later.”

  “Hold on a second,” he told Chase and then to Anna he said, “I’ll call you later. Thanks for the doughnuts. Sorry about this.”

  “I’m grabbing some milk from the fridge.” Her smile turned somber. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Hoping like hell Anna was right, he went and sank into a chair and refocused on the conversation with Chase. “Sorry, I’m back. Just tell him I’ll get there as
quick as I can.”

  “I’ll pass it on. Make sure you bring her phone, and we’ll have her call and set up a meeting with the Mark guy.”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, do you want the bad news?” Chase asked.

  “Isn’t that what you’ve been giving me?” Danny snapped.

  “Okay, do you want the worse news?”

  “What is it?”

  “I heard him talking with the sergeant. He’s saying you shouldn’t be working the case.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because of your relationship with Sheri.”

  “I don’t have . . . That’s bullshit. She’s a friend of a friend,” he said, and it sounded like a huge lie. “Why does he think I have a relationship with her? Why the fuck is it any of his business?”

  “Because he’s FBI, and everything is their business. As for how he knows . . . Probably because you took her home with you, and if not that, . . . then how you were catering to her last night.”

  “She was upset. Someone tried to break into her condo.”

  “I’m not judging. I’m just giving you a heads-up. Oh, one other thing. I just hung up with Cary.”

  “You told him about the bomb?” he asked, knowing he and Chloe would be freaked for Sheri.

  “Was I not supposed to tell them?” Chase asked and after a pause said, “Actually, he sounded more upset that you’d taken Sheri home with you.”

  Danny sighed and took another long sip of coffee. Could the day get any worse?

  • • •

  After hiding out in the bathroom for a good five minutes, feeling hung over and humiliated over her brandy-induced evening, Sheri walked back into the living room. She could hear Danny talking to someone. Anna, holding a cup of coffee, stood at the door as if leaving. Smiling, she motioned for Sheri to follow her.

  Unable to think of a polite way to turn her down, she did as requested. The moment they stepped outside, Anna faced her. “Danny’s on the phone, and I’m going to scoot, but I just want to say . . .”

  Anna frowned as if second-guessing her words. “Danny’s a great guy.” She bit on her bottom lip. “Look, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but . . . he told me what he did earlier. Leaving you at the hotel. I know that was bad. You need to know that . . . that he regretted it. And I’m not trying to excuse him, because before that, he kind of lived the life of some playboy, but he was hurt by his ex, really badly. I mean . . . between finding out Tanya was a lesbian, then her miscarriage, then the divorce, it’s . . . it’s understandable he’s a little commitment-phobic.”