Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

  Then he remembered Terrence saying, “Take care of my girl.” Sue needed him.

  Sue’s grandmother looked up, studied Jason with the same intensity that her husband had used minutes earlier. “I guess that’s your fellow.”

  “He’s not my fellow,” Sue said.

  The woman nodded. “Name’s Rose White. You dating my Susie?”

  “I told you, he’s a friend of Chase’s. He had a flat tire.” Sue’s gaze met Jason’s with an I-told-you-so glare if he’d ever seen one.

  “Name’s Jason Dodd.” He nodded. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m gonna show him my roach collection.” Sue’s grandfather motioned Jason forward.

  Jason glanced at Sue. The last guy who’d shown him his roach collection was spending two to five in Huntsville prison.

  Sue laughed. “Cockroaches.” Then she looked at her grandpa. “Can you show him when we get back? We should probably go.”

  “Cockroaches?” Jason whispered in Sue’s ear as they walked to the car.

  She nodded.

  When they got to Sue’s Honda, Mrs. White eyed him up and down. “You haven’t robbed a bank, have you?”

  Jason almost laughed, but oddly enough she seemed serious. “No, ma’am. Never.”

  He opened the door for the woman. She had one foot in the car when her wrinkled face gazed up at him. “You don’t fancy ladies’ underwear, do you?”

  That had to be a trick question. He looked at Sue for help.

  She moved between him and her grandmother. “Isn’t it a nice day?”

  It was two o’clock when they headed back to Sue’s place. In a few minutes she’d be back home, where she’d hole up in her study. Away from Jason, away from temptation. He sat next to her, watching her drive, a pensive shimmer in his eyes.

  She tapped her fingers against the wheel. “I wish you’d stop staring.”

  He stretched his arm out, his hand on the edge of her headrest as his fingers played with her ear. Yet, even as he took the time to touch her, to send her looks that could make panty hose unravel, he’d never stopped acting like a cop. His gaze continuously moved to the mirror to see if anyone followed them. Even when they’d waited in the doctor’s office, he’d sat facing the door so he could see who came in.

  Her hands tightened on the wheel, and she stared over her dash. She hadn’t realized it until this morning, but subconsciously today had been some kind of a weird trial by fire: Throw Jason in the lion’s den of her crazy family and see if he’d run for his life. The tactic had scared more boys away than Sue cared to admit.

  Jason hadn’t run. In fact, he’d seemed unaffected by the wacky morning. He’d even been sweet to her grandparents.

  She, on the other hand, felt as if Jason had just been given a peek into her private world—a world that included prostate exams, dead roaches pinned to red velvet, and her naked baby pictures exposing the birthmark between her left thigh and buttock.

  Which maybe explained her current resentment. The man kept his private world under lock and key. Had she gotten to see a naked baby picture of him? No.

  That did it. The next time she visited her grandparents, she was confiscating that album. And Sue was super glad she’d managed to whisk Jason out of the house before he was in danger of getting his stomach pumped. Her grandma had just started to move toward the fridge when Sue jerked the album from his hands and dragged him to the door.

  On the way home, they’d stopped off for fast food. While they ate, Sue had asked him about his mother. He’d changed the subject to the movies he enjoyed watching. Action-adventure. Who would have guessed?

  When Sue asked him about where he’d gone to elementary school, he’d started talking about a drug case he’d worked a couple years ago. Interesting conversation, but it told her nothing about Jason Dodd.

  “You’re getting quiet again,” he said.

  “Long day,” she muttered.

  She glanced at him. He held a milk shake, running his fingers over the condensation on the cup. Then, as if he sensed her staring, he turned.

  She jerked her gaze back to the road, where it belonged, especially considering she’d just missed her turn into her neighborhood.

  “You still have that birthmark?” A smile sounded in his voice.

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “I’d be happy to check.”

  “In your dreams.”

  “You got that right.”

  Silence hummed with her car’s air conditioner. She saw him again checking the side mirror.

  “You haven’t seen anyone following us today, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “Your grandparents seem…” He looked from the mirror to her.

  “Seem what?” Sue squared her shoulders, ready for a fight.

  “That they appear very healthy for their age,” he finished sincerely. “And I guess they know how lucky they are to have you.”

  Her spine relaxed. “I’m the lucky one.”

  “All of you are.” There seemed to be some hidden emotion in his statement, and she was about to ask about it when he continued. “I should probably tell you that your grandfather knows about the rat incident.”

  Suddenly seeing the stop sign, Sue slammed on the brakes and then shot him an accusing look. “You told him?”

  “No. You asked me not to. He said your mother let something slip and then tried to cover it up, but…but that she’s as bad at lying as you are.” He grinned when he said the last.

  “I lie way better than my mom!” Sue gave a gulp of frustration and recommenced driving. “Now Grandpa is going to worry. I told her not to say a word. Dad burn it! Sometimes she…” She clamped her mouth shut. Jason wasn’t interested in her mother’s faults. And if he was, she wasn’t so sure she’d tell him, not when he believed in a closed book policy for himself.

  “She what?”

  “Nothing.” Silence returned to the car.

  “He doesn’t know everything.” Jason fit his cup in a holder. “And I think the idea of my being around put him at ease.”

  “He’ll still worry. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I have a message on my answering machine from him when we get home.”

  “I could talk to him again.” He reached over, his fingers moving in her hair.

  “No. It won’t help,” she said. “But thanks for offering.”

  Silence fell again. Sue toyed with the idea of turning on the radio and tried not to think about how Jason’s touch was turning her on.

  “Did your grandparents help raise you?” He gave the mirror another look.

  “I always lived with my mother, but yeah, they were a big part of my life.”

  “Because of your dad’s death?” He shifted, bumping his knee on the dash.

  “You can adjust your seat,” she said and realized he was doing it again. He was rummaging around her past when he wouldn’t give even a hint about his own. Couldn’t he share just a little bit?

  He rubbed his knee. “How old were you when your dad died?”

  Instead of answering, she tossed a question out herself. “Do you see your mother often?”

  Her implication hung heavy, but she didn’t care. If he wanted to know about her, he’d have to—

  “I…uh…” He pulled his hand from her neck and hit his knee again on the dash. Then he reached down as if to adjust the seat.

  Sure, she completely understood a reluctance to talk about painful memories, but he hadn’t minded digging around in her painful memory bank. And she’d let him.

  Pulling into her driveway, she cut off the engine and waited to see if he planned to answer her. Instantly, she remembered what Kathy had said last night. Kissing any toad was difficult, but kissing one you cared about was risky. Was that why dating Paul hadn’t scared her? She knew she would never get hurt, because she hadn’t cared?

  Sue reached for her purse, wanting to run from the answer, run from the truth that would become evident if
she let herself think about it. Jason caught her hand.

  “She lives here in northwest Houston. I see her once a week.”

  He’d shared! Panic shot to her chest.

  “That’s what you asked, wasn’t it? About Maggie.”

  “Yeah.” And why had she wanted him to give, to share? Because then she could justify giving more of herself. Giving him her body, her soul.

  Her heart.

  The panic, already at an uncomfortable level, shot up past uncomfortable. Then her panicked mind shot to her ex-husband, the pain, the betrayal. Why had she thought she could start dating? She’d been much safer when she kept that door closed. Locked. Could she put on the brakes now? Lock Jason out?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jason watched Sue get out of the car as if she was running from something. And since he was the only thing she’d left in the car, that something had to be him.

  He raked a palm over his face and crawled out of her Honda. “Are you going to lock it?”

  She headed to the mailbox and, without looking at him, pointed her clicker and clicked.

  She’d gotten quiet again as soon as they’d gotten to the hamburger joint, at which he’d purposely not eaten one of her fries. But had he said or done something else wrong? Was she upset about Bob taking her computer? Was she worried about breaking up with the foot doctor?

  He didn’t like her going. And he wasn’t finished trying to talk her out of it, either. Frankly, he didn’t want Sue within a mile of the man. The fact that she’d bought something slinky and sexy and had probably worn it for the jerk still chapped Jason’s ass. The fact that the doc’s psycho wife could be the one who was out to hurt Sue took that chapping to third-degree burns.

  Opening and closing the mailbox as if it was empty, she headed toward the door.

  Jason glanced at his watch. It was only two o’clock, and they weren’t supposed to meet the doctor until seven. He had five hours to convince her not to go. And if they got that out of the way, maybe they could find something else to do. Something a lot more fun.

  He watched her scoot across the driveway and wondered if her lapse into silence was due to the fact that she, like him, was thinking about last night. The memory of it had flickered through his mind a thousand or so times off and on during the day. Which meant he’d had an off and on problem all day. And at the most inopportune times, too! Like when he’d been sitting next to her in the doctor’s waiting room and her leg had brushed up against his. That was all it took, and just like that he’d remembered unbuttoning her bicycling teddy bear pajamas and taking her breasts into his mouth. He’d remembered how she’d tasted, how she’d felt against him, how close she’d come to giving herself to him. Suddenly, bam! He’d had the problem. A noticeable problem, too. He’d had to snatch the one and only magazine from the table to hide the evidence.

  Unfortunately, the magazine had been for lactating mothers.

  Of course, the article about how to use a breast pump had taken care of his little problem right quick.

  Seeing Sue at the front door, he hurried his steps to catch up with her. She fumbled with her keys. Was she nervous about their being alone? Nervous could be good. It meant she was thinking about them being together, which meant she thought it would happen.

  She dropped the keys and reached down to snag them up.

  Then again, nervous could be bad. Bad, because her nerves could be more than just the average first-time anxiety. Her “not settling” comment had jabbed at his curiosity off and on between his other issues. He’d considered talking to her about it, but talk was cheap; he’d rather just prove her wrong. If he could simply get her in bed, she’d see how good it could be. How good they would be.

  Okay, he knew it wasn’t just the sex that mattered. But they got along, laughed, and could talk about anything. On top of that, he genuinely liked her. Hell, he “got” Sue, understood her and respected her more than any woman he’d dated. Her quirkiness intrigued him: the way she tried to come across as tough as leftover steak but passed out vitamin C because she worried about everyone getting a cold. And he saw the goodness in her by the way she took time for her grandfather’s prostate exams and to comb out the holes in her grandmother’s hair.

  When her second attempt to fit the key in the door didn’t work, he took her keys and opened the door for her.

  “Thanks.” She hurried inside.

  She scooped up her cat and headed straight to the counter to hit some buttons on her phone. Her gaze shot to him. “Three calls. The first one reads, ‘Restricted.’ ”

  Jason came up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t sure if the phone company had started tracking her calls yet. “Play it.”

  The machine rewound. He felt her tense and pulled her and her cat closer.

  “You’ve won a free vacation!”

  “Thank God.” Relaxing, Sue rubbed her face with her cat’s.

  The sales pitch ended and the next call came on. “Hey, it’s Kathy. Just thought I ‘d see how the wart inspection is going.” The redhead’s laugh echoed from the machine. “Oh, he’s not going to be listening to this is he? Oh shit.”

  Jason leaned over her shoulder, tilted his head down, and met her gaze. “Wart inspection?”

  “Inside joke.” Sue slipped out of reach.

  “Anyway,” Kathy continued. “If your ficus plant needs a break, call me. I promise not to quote Dr. Phil.”

  The line clicked off and then on again.

  “Susie…” Her grandfather’s voice came through the line. “Call your grandpa when you get home. Just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Sue looked at Jason. “Told you he’d call.”

  “And Sue,” her grandfather continued in a lower voice, “what’s this your grandma’s saying about Jason reading some breastfeeding magazine? Personally, I kind of liked the guy, but I could have misjudged him.”

  Sue grinned. Her smile, her first in a while, was almost worth being the butt of the joke.

  “Hey, it was the only magazine available.” No way was he going to explain his hard-on. From experience, women generally didn’t understand.

  Sue picked up the phone and called her grandfather. While she talked, Jason moved in front of her case of DVDs, but he didn’t miss her defending him about the magazine.

  “It was the only magazine available! He’s not a weirdo.”

  Her defense of him felt really good.

  When he heard her hang up, he looked back. “Why don’t we watch a movie?” The thought of them cozying up on the sofa felt right.

  Her gaze shot to the sofa, as if she thought the same thing he did, but from her expression he figured cozying up wasn’t on her agenda.

  She set her cat down. “I need to write.”

  “I need to feed my cat.”

  “I’ll do it.” She took off down the hall. “I don’t need to be interrupted.”

  Definitely, she was running from him. He watched her go.

  Disappointment burned in his chest, but he fought it. He needed to make a few more calls himself. He’d been on the phone off and on all day; he’d spoken with Steven, Chase’s friend who’d done the background check on the foot doctor. But he still hadn’t talked to his buddy, Carlos, a sergeant at the Hoke’s Bluff division about bringing Paul in for questioning to night after Sue—if he couldn’t talk her out of going—met the married Toe Jerker. Because the case did come under Hoke’s Bluff’s jurisdiction, Jason’s hands were pretty much tied. If he tried to bend the rules too much, he could get his ass in a crack. Jason preferred trying to keep his ass out of cracks. Mostly because he seemed to get it there without ever bending the rules.

  Fifteen minutes later, he’d started to punch in Carlos’s number when his phone rang.

  “Dodd,” he answered, without looking at the caller ID.

  “What kind of crap are you up to?”

  “Excuse me?” Jason tried to recognize the voice.

  “It’s Brian Peters.”
/>
  Okay, Jason understood the hostile tone. He and Chase had butted heads last year with Brian about a case they’d all been assigned to work. Peters didn’t like to be proven wrong. So much so that he’d left their department.

  “I just heard you and your partner are butting into my case again.”

  “What case?” Jason asked.

  “The Paul Everts case,” Brian shot back.

  “The foot doctor?”

  “Yeah. I heard ya’ll ran a background check on him.”

  “We did,” Jason agreed. “What kind of case are you working?”

  Peters’s voice was grim. “Homicide.”

  Sue sat at her desk, iPod on, doing a trick that a writing buddy had recommended, the power of deletion. The writer types her thoughts, concerns, or fears into her computer and then gets rid of them from her life the way a good writer takes out poorly written sentences; she simply deletes them.

  Sue’s fingers started moving…Jason Dodd still feels like the perfect pair of jeans.

  Highlight. Delete.

  He’s kind to elderly women bearing cucumbers and to my grandparents. He even pretended to be interested in cockroaches.

  Highlight. Delete.

  I just happen to have a sexy black nightie hidden in my underwear drawer that I’ve never worn. Should I go see what Jason thinks about it?

  Highlight. Delete! Delete! Delete!

  It wasn’t working. Blast deletion therapy!

  Sue yanked off her earphones when she heard a knock at the door. If she didn’t answer him, would he go away? She watched the door.

  Jason opened it. His gaze fell on her old, outdated laptop.

  “I told you that you could use mine.” He ran a palm over his face.

  She’d seen this gesture enough to know that it was a nervous tick. Writers noticed traits like that because they could use them. Her newest book’s hero had already picked up the little habit.

  In response to his comment she said, “I’ll use it to do Internet research, but I can write on this.”