by Addison Fox
Or one he’d wanted more?
The answer was a resounding no as he opened the passenger-side door for her. He waited for her to slide in, hoping for another one of those smiles, but it never came. Instead, she gracefully slipped in, swinging her feet into the car and keeping her gaze straight ahead.
Determined to have a nice evening, he ignored the deep freeze. He’d figure out what was going on soon enough. And, if he were guessing correctly, he suspected Melissa hadn’t given her a particularly big choice in going out that evening.
His fearless chief had come back into the precinct like a whirling dervish, ordering him to get up from his desk and go home to get ready. She’d informed him there was a reservation in his name and that he would be taking Evangeline Whittaker out that evening.
Brett had laughed at the set of orders but Troy didn’t miss the slight note of panic in the other man’s eyes when Melissa turned her serious gaze on him. Troy would have laughed at the unnerved bachelor routine if he weren’t being steamrolled into leaving work early and taking Evangeline to dinner.
Which wasn’t exactly a hardship.
Troy climbed into the driver’s seat and backed out of his spot in front of her home. Part habit, part heightened vigilance, he scanned the parking lot as he drove slowly toward the main road, seeking anything out of place. Satisfied nothing lurked around Evangeline’s home, he took his first deep breath as he headed for downtown and the Grave Gulch Hotel.
“I’m glad you could come out tonight.” He kept his tone light, conversational, and was completely surprised by the continued cool response.
“Melissa seemed insistent we do this.”
“You don’t want to?”
He took his eyes off the road just long enough to see her subtle shrug. “It’s nice to get out of the house.”
Wow, he thought. Chalk that one up to a ringing endorsement. She might have mentioned taking a trip to the grocery store or scraping mud off her shoe.
“I know I’m looking forward to the evening.”
When Evangeline remained silent, Troy kept his gaze on the road and focused on the short drive to the Grave Gulch Hotel. At least he’d see a friendly face when Antonio met them at the front desk.
The silence between them was heavy as he drove and it was only as it grew more and more oppressive that Troy realized why. In all that had happened over the past several days, there hadn’t been silence. Despite her fear and anxiety, Evangeline had talked to him. She’d discussed how she felt and she spoke with him on any number of topics from her work to her family to the external situation they were dealing with in the faceless threat that stalked her.
And now?
Silence.
It was jarring in the extreme, and as Troy thought over the past twenty minutes since his arrival at her home, he racked his brain to come up with what had set her off.
He drove into the hotel parking lot, pulling up to the valet station. Melissa had given strict orders there, too, ensuring his car would be well cared for while he and Evangeline ate. As he handed over the keys, he hoped whatever malaise had settled over Evangeline would fade once they were seated in the restaurant.
Or they were going to have a long night ahead of them.
* * *
Evangeline knew her behavior was terrible. She’d spent enough time growing up to know the damage emotional tantrums—and their counterpart, dead silence—could do.
Yet try as she might, she couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm or excitement for the evening. Especially when Troy had made it abundantly clear he saw this whole dinner as a commitment, nothing more.
He did a damn sweep of her home, for heaven’s sake. A thorough check of the locks and doors, ensuring no one could get inside while they were gone for the evening.
It wasn’t a rational reaction, especially after spending the afternoon convincing herself this evening wasn’t a date. Yet at the same time, there was something about watching him inspect her condo that had landed like a cold bucket of water on her hopes for the evening.
Hopes she didn’t need to be having.
Yet ones she’d had all the same.
“Troy!” A man she knew to be Antonio Ruiz met them at the maître d’s stand at the front of the restaurant. The tall, elegant figure turned toward her, his smile broad. “And you must be Evangeline. I’m Antonio Ruiz. It’s a delight to have you dining with us.”
“Hello, Antonio. Thank you for having us this evening.”
“It’s my pleasure. And please consider yourself guests of Melissa and mine.”
He led them to their table and Evangeline didn’t miss the way several discreet gazes followed them on the walk through the room. She suspected it was due to the fact that she and Troy were guests of Antonio’s, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of being on display. After spending several weeks in a mix of isolation and hiding, it was an odd sensation to find herself in view of so many people.
It was only when they were seated at a small table in the back, in a private corner, that she finally began to relax.
Antonio waited until they’d sat, and with a final request that they enjoy the evening, he departed.
“I’m still getting used to the fact that he’s about to be Melissa’s husband.” Troy smiled as he opened the heavy leather menu from its perch on the charger plate in front of him. “We’ve spent years looking out for this place at the GGPD, ensuring its high-end clientele were always safe while here. It’s funny to now think of him as family.” Troy glanced over the top of his menu. “And I say that in the best way.”
“Melissa seems really happy.”
Troy set his menu back down, his smile easy and genuine. “I’ve never seen her happier. A lot of responsibility rests on her shoulders as chief of the GGPD. Responsibility she’s earned and wants. But it doesn’t mean that it’s not hard. And facing that alone, without a personal support system at home?” He shook his head. “It’s a tough life.”
Melissa’s words from her earlier visit ran through Evangeline’s mind.
Troy has borne the brunt of it.
The search for Randall Bowe and all the work to expose the depth of his cover-ups. The ongoing hunt for Len Davison. And the continued frustration that both remain at large.
It can be overwhelming sometimes.
He was deep in the morass that the GGPD was dealing with. Hadn’t she seen that herself these past few days? Yet even with the pressure and stress, she’d not seen him crack under it.
No, instead, he did just as Melissa suggested: he bore up under the weight of it all.
She was entitled to her anger from earlier, but did she really want to be petty and ruin a thoughtful evening provided by someone with seemingly the best intentions? Sure, this evening might not be what she’d secretly hoped. But it was still an evening out with an attractive man. A good man. One who deserved the simple enjoyment as much as she did.
Wasn’t that some of what the past few weeks had taught her? She believed in her work and the long, long hours that she’d put in throughout her career. But the Davison case had also taught her that she wasn’t infallible. More than that, her instincts were valuable and worthy, but every situation she found herself in wasn’t going to be black-and-white. It was in the shades of gray that the real work happened.
Resolved to look at the evening with fresh eyes, Evangeline picked up her menu. Troy was owed a nice evening, too, and she wanted to be a fun, charming dinner companion.
The word date didn’t have to factor into it.
And he did look really good this evening. The attraction she was determined to fight was having a hard time remembering the “not a date” part, even as she reveled in being out with such a handsome man.
And in the end, wasn’t that something?
Whatever inconvenient feelings she might have for Troy Colton, she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed sharin
g his company. He was easy to talk to and they had a common bond with their work. She admired his commitment to the job and the focus and dedication that he brought to everything he did.
Her life might be wildly challenging right now, but she wouldn’t regret the fact that its temporary strangeness had given her an opportunity to know Troy better. The cop she’d admired from afar, in their limited interactions during court cases, had become a real person.
Tangible.
Human.
And incredibly interesting.
“What are you having?” Troy asked.
“The steak looks wonderful but Melissa already gave me the heads-up that the shrimp scampi was amazing.”
“I’m trying to decide myself. And while I love shrimp, I’m not sure I can turn down a steak. Especially when the scents coming from the kitchen are so amazing.”
“This really is a beautiful place.” She looked around, the dark paneling throughout setting off a bar on the far side of the room that ran to white lighting and yards of glass shelving. Those glass bar shelves glistened like diamonds in the light and she considered what a pretty, intimate setting they’d managed to create here. Grand without being imposing. “I’ve been here for drinks after work on occasion, but that’s been it.”
An ADA’s salary wasn’t designed for steak dinners and lavish appetizers but being here now made her realize that it was okay to indulge every now and again. She worked hard and while she had never regretted going into the district attorney’s office, perhaps she’d been a bit too focused on her job and on saving for her home.
“Those look like more serious thoughts than choosing between the filet or the shrimp.”
With one last glance at those glistening glass shelves, she turned back to Troy. “I was just thinking about my life. Before going on leave.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been so focused on being frugal that I think I might have missed a few opportunities to live a bit.”
A trait from her father? He’d spent years launching into a tirade at her mother for the barest infractions, from a splurge on cookies at the market to a new pair of shoes. Had she minimized her needs to avoid a confrontation?
Or worse, looked at any sort of indulgence as so frivolous that it was to be avoided?
“There’s nothing wrong with saving what you earn.”
“No.” She twisted her hands in her napkin, searching for the right words. “There isn’t. And I’m proud of the home I worked for as part of that savings.”
“So why the sudden sadness?”
“More of my father, I suppose. The strange way he used whatever was at his disposal to control my mother. It was like he always needed to keep her on her back foot. I wonder how much of that I picked up, even subconsciously?”
As the conversation with her mother earlier replayed back through her mind, Evangeline couldn’t help but smile. “But on a happier note, I spoke with my mother today and she’s seeing someone. A man named Bill who makes her happy and who is from Kalamazoo.”
Evangeline shook her head, surprised at how easy that admission came. And how truly excited she was for her mother as she embarked on this new relationship.
“You don’t have to brush it off, Evangeline. Those were difficult years. Just because you got out of them and moved beyond them doesn’t mean they didn’t do damage.”
Before she could answer, their waiter came over, balancing a bottle of wine on a tray. “Compliments of Mr. Ruiz.”
Although she didn’t know the full ins and outs of wine, Evangeline had enough of a working knowledge to know the bottle Antonio had sent them was special. “How lovely.”
“May I pour?” Their waiter set two glasses down on the table and made a big show of the wine.
Evangeline gave the man his moment, grateful that the dramatic flourishes gave her a chance to regather her thoughts. Why had she gone there about her parents? As the complimentary wine suggested, it was meant to be a lovely evening out, away from their cares and concerns. Yet here she was, the meal not even served, rambling on about her father and his emotional abuses.
Scintillating conversation, Whittaker.
They waited until their waiter had departed, their orders in hand, then Troy lifted his glass. “To a lovely evening with a beautiful companion.”
She felt a flush spread over her skin at his words. “Thank you.” She tapped her glass against his, the delicate crystal making that satisfying clink.
The evening flowed from there and Evangeline felt her cares float away on the engaging drift of conversation and food and wine. She’d dated off and on through the years, but in all that time, she couldn’t remember a man she’d shared so much with, or whose company she’d enjoyed more.
It made that push-pull of emotion—was it a date? wasn’t it a date?—that much more challenging. It was only as their waiter wheeled over the dessert tray that she finally found an answer to both questions.
Did it really matter all that much?
She was out for the evening. Whatever moniker she wanted to put on it, the fact remained she’d had a lovely time. A truly enjoyable evening.
As their waiter wheeled the cart away, with their orders of crème brûlée for her and chocolate mousse for him, Troy’s gaze turned serious. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Earlier. In the car. I upset you.” He stared down at his hands before those hazel eyes met hers, the gaze bold. “Did I offend you in some way? Complimenting you at the door or making you feel as if Melissa forced you to come out this evening?”
Something cracked wide open inside at his honest question. At the fact that he was willing to ask it at all.
“It was the sweep.”
He frowned at that, confused. “What sweep?”
“Of my house. Before we left. I thought we were about to go out and you marched in and looked for signs of intrusion.”
“And that upset you?”
“No.” The answer was out before she could stop it, an unfortunate habit of denying what really mattered to her. With her earlier thoughts about choosing what she wanted in life and making some decisions that could be entirely frivolous in nature, Evangeline forced herself to reconsider. “I mean, yes. Yes, it bothered me.”
“Why?”
“I was ready to go out, and you treated the evening like a job.”
“But I—” He stopped, genuine surprise still painting his face. “I’d chalk it up to an occupational hazard but that’s not fair.”
“It’s fine now. I’m over it.”
“I appreciate you saying that. But regardless of how you feel now, I’m sorry I made you feel that way before.”
That was it. A simple I’m sorry. Not all the accusations she’d heard through the years, each one lobbed at her mother and, at times, herself, like grenades.
You’re overreacting.
That’s not what I meant.
You never listen to me.
But never, in any iteration, had there been an I’m sorry.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t quite hide the strangled whisper and reached for the cup of tea she’d requested with dessert. “That means a lot.”
As their waiter set down their desserts, Evangeline realized his apology had meant more than a lot.
It had meant everything.
* * *
Troy was still reeling from Evangeline’s revelation over dessert. He’d been mostly honest with her. It was customary for him to check locks and doors, especially in a location he knew had been breached.
But his walk down her hallway had been about so much more.
Desire.
Desperation.
And an overwhelming sense of despair that his feelings for her were rapidly spiraling out of control. Feelings he had no business having for a woman under his protection an
d part of an open investigation.
He was a professional, damn it. He knew how to keep his own emotions in check and do the job. And he was good at it. He’d learned the skill early, a coping mechanism to ensure no one would ever have reason to ask him off the force or find a way to push him out of the GGPD.
He was a cop.
It was all he’d ever wanted to be and all he’d ever seen himself becoming.
He’d spent his life accepting that his mother’s killer would never be found. Oh, it had never stopped him from following up on leads or reviewing her cold case file with what he hoped were fresh eyes. But it was because of the fact that her case was cold that he’d never wanted to give anyone a reason to think he took the job so personally that he couldn’t be objective.
So why now?
And why her?
Evangeline Whittaker needed his help and all he could do was think about getting his hands on her.
So yeah. It was an “occupational hazard” as he’d claimed, marching through her apartment like a man on a mission. But it was more a disguise—a moment to find some much-needed composure—in order to control his raging need for her.
It was why he had put up an argument when Melissa had told him he was having dinner this evening. The protest was token at best, but he had to try.
Only, when faced with his cousin’s insistence—and the opportunity to spend an evening with Evangeline—he’d caved pretty quickly.
Some cop you are, Colton.
But wasn’t that the problem? He was good at his job. He didn’t doubt that. He worked hard and knew the importance of what he did. The emptiness his family still lived with over his mother’s murder was something he fought hard every day to ensure other families didn’t have to. He couldn’t always provide positive news, but he could provide closure.
And for someone in the process of trying to heal, that mattered.
For all those reasons, he knew his badge deserved better. Evangeline deserved better. He couldn’t stay focused on her case if he was too focused on her. Hadn’t that been proven more than once this week?
Even as he told himself to remain strictly professional, he was also abundantly aware that the genie was out of the bottle.