He looked over at her as he hefted the box down from the shelf and put it on top of the other one. “Didn’t we have this discussion already?” he asked, a half-smile on his face.
“Yes, we did,” Jeanie said, rolling her eyes. “And you’re being a male chauvinist pig about it.”
Donovan nodded, twisting his lips in a grin. “I think the term you were looking for was ‘gentleman.’”
Jeanie laughed, shaking her head. “No, I had the right term, you’re just in the wrong century.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Donovan said, nodding. “You can call me anything you want, but you’re not lifting heavy boxes and getting hurt, okay?”
“Aye, aye, aye,” she said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “How am I ever going to pass the physical agility if I’m not allowed to do anything physical?”
“You’ll pass,” Donovan said confidently.
“I will, huh?” Jeanie said with a lot less confidence.
“I told you I’d help you, didn’t I?” Donovan opened the box and surveyed the items inside it. “Three Motorola Sabers, two Midlands.”
“Got it. Yes, you told me you’d help me, but what if I don’t have the actual physical strength to handle it?”
Donovan looked up at her contemplatively. “Okay…” he said, walking over to some shelves. He pulled boxes out and lifted them away, eventually finding what he wanted. “Come here,” he said, and moved over a couple of aisles away.
Jeanie stood up and followed him. He set the box down on the floor and stepped back. “Okay. Bend down, and using your legs to lift, drag that box from here to that next row.” He gestured down the aisle. Jeanie looked at him for a long moment, not sure if he was joking, but he looked serious so she did as he’d said.
When she got to the next row she was out of breath. She set the box down on the floor and straightened up. She looked at Donovan as he walked up to her; he was nodding.
“Okay,” he said, extending his arms out toward her. “Take my wrists. I’m going to apply some resistance—you just hold them this distance apart if you can.”
Jeanie took his wrists in her hands, feeling the warmth of his skin and making a point of ignoring it.
“Ready?” he asked, and she nodded.
He began applying pressure to move his arms apart, and Jeanie tightened her hold on his wrists, using all her strength to hold them together. Before she knew it, he’d lightened the pressure. Jeanie blew out her pent-up breath, nodding to him and belatedly releasing his wrists.
“You’ll pass,” Donovan said, nodding confidently.
“Because I could do that?” Jeanie said disbelievingly.
“That,” he said, pointing to the box on the floor, “was fairly equal to the fifty-pound body drag, and this,” he said, pointing to his wrists, which were still colored from the test, “was equivalent or more than the cuffing exercise. You’ll do fine—those are the hardest ones.”
Without thinking, Jeanie reached out and took his wrists in her hands, rubbing them, because they were red and looked like they hurt. But she looked up at him with surprise at what he had said. “Really, that’s like what the tests will be?” Then her expression changed. “But what about the six-foot wall?”
Donovan glanced down at her hands rubbing gently at his wrists and smiled, then looked back at her. “I told you there’s a trick to the wall, and I will teach you that trick, okay? Trust me!”
“Oh, sure, that’s what they all say,” Jeanie said, smiling back at him. She stopped her ministrations but didn’t let go of his wrists. “So do you think I could cuff somebody like you?” Her look was challenging.
Donovan grinned, then shook his head. “I don’t roughhouse with women either.”
“Who was talking roughhousing? I’m talking serious police work here, Sergeant Curtis.”
“Okay.” Donovan nodded and moved toward one of the shelving units. Standing with his feet just over shoulder-width apart, he put his hands out on either side of him, placing them on the shelves in a search stance. “You’re arresting me,” he said, his tone instructional now. “Take my left wrist and start to bring it around to my back.”
Jeanie had to stand on tiptoe to reach his wrist, but she took it and did as he said.
“Okay, now I’m going to start resisting. What I want you to do is to grab my hand around the thumb area, putting your thumb into the palm of my hand,” Jeanie did as he said. “Now as I resist, put pressure on the palm of my hand and twist my wrist outward toward you. At the same time, put your other hand just above my elbow and guide me to the floor.”
Donovan started to move his arm as if he were a suspect trying to resist, and Jeanie did as she’d been instructed. She was surprised when within moments Donovan was down on his knees. She let go of him immediately for fear she’d actually hurt him.
“My God, it worked,” she said excitedly.
Donovan nodded, glancing up at her and moving his head as if to stretch his neck. “Yes, it works, and you learn too damn fast!” His tone held mock disgruntlement.
“Did I hurt you?” She extended her hand to help him up.
“No, you did exactly right, except if I was really a bad guy, you shouldn’t let go right away.”
“Well, I know that, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Well, thank you, Ms. Franco,” Donovan said, grinning. “You did good though.”
“You’re a good teacher,” she replied, patting him on the back.
Donovan sighed dramatically. “Just one of my many talents.”
“I’ll just bet.”
They went back to work then, and the rest of the day passed quickly. At four o’clock, Donovan escorted her back out to his car; he had driven over to the warehouse. Jeanie found herself sorry that the day was over. She had enjoyed the time alone with him. In the office there was always some feeling of not being able to joke around too much, or seem too friendly, but today they seemed to have been able to goof off a little bit. She wished in a way that they didn’t have to leave. She was happy to note that they hadn’t finished, so they’d probably have to come back.
In the car, Donovan called Midnight to tell her they were on their way back to the office. His cell phone was set up for hands-free, so Jeanie could hear the whole conversation.
“You guys get even close to finishing?” Midnight asked, knowing that the warehouse was really loaded with equipment.
“We’re probably more than halfway,” Donovan said, looking over at Jeanie for confirmation. She nodded.
“Well, you guys want some overtime?”
Donovan glanced back at Jeanie, and she nodded again. “Sounds good, Night, but personally I’m dusted today.”
“I didn’t mean today, Donovan,” Midnight said. “I know you have lives. I just thought if you wanted to work this weekend maybe you could finish up.”
“I can. What about you, Jay?”
“I have no life—I’ll be here,” Jeanie said, grinning.
“Great, then that’ll be done and we can move on. I’ll see you two when you get back in here,” Midnight said, and they hung up.
A few moments later Donovan’s phone rang. He hit the hands-free button again. “Hello?”
“Pony,” said a man’s voice.
Donovan grinned. “Gregory.”
“So… did you totally forget about tonight or what?”
Donovan winced. “Shit, man. Yeah, I did. What time am I supposed to meet you guys?”
“Seven thirty,” Gregory said, as if he’d said it a million times already.
Donovan looked contemplative for a minute, glancing at his watch. Then he nodded. “I can make it. I’ll be there.”
“Hey, man, it’s your party,” Gregory said chidingly.
“Hey, man, I was promoted six months ago,” Donovan replied, his tone equally upbraiding.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, be there, man. Seven thirty at 10-7, got it?”
Donovan grinned. “Ten four.” He hung up and glanced over at Jeanie, who had
watched the proceedings with amusement.
“Some friends of mine,” he said by way of explanation. “They’ve been trying to take me out to celebrate my promotion for months now.”
“Uh-huh, and you forgot about it.”
He laughed. “Well, they’ve changed the date so many times now, I can’t keep track anymore. Hey,” he said then, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “You want to come?”
Jeanie raised an eyebrow at him. “To your promotional party?”
“Bad idea? I mean, I just thought you might like to go out with me and my friends for a drink. No big deal.”
“Sounds fun,” Jeanie said. “Are you guys heavy drinkers?”
Donovan gave her a measured look, as if not sure how much to tell her. “Sometimes, but I’m driving tonight so I won’t get drunk. I need to run home and shower and change, but I could pick you up if you want to ride with me.”
“What if I follow you to your house and ride with you from there?” Jeanie said, surprising him.
“Sounds good to me.”
Back at the office, Jeanie told Midnight that Donovan was taking her out drinking. Donovan shook his head, rolling his eyes.
“You aren’t supposed to tell her,” Donovan told Jeanie.
“Why not?” Jeanie and Midnight asked at the same time.
Donovan blinked, as if surprised by the question. “Because you’re the chief, and…” he started, not sure how to put it.
“It’s not a date, right?” Midnight said humorously.
“No,” Donovan and Jeanie said together.
Midnight laughed at the denial in their voices. “Knock it off, guys. I wouldn’t care if it was. Even if I did, Jeanie, you’re not a cop yet. And I’m hardly the chief to worry about fraternization. Hello? My husband’s a cop, Donovan, your sister and brother-in-law are cops… We’re a family, literally and figuratively.” Midnight was smiling by the end of her lecture. “Just be careful, and Jeanie…”
“Yeah?” Jeanie said, her face very serious.
Midnight laughed. “Just keep moving.”
Jeanie laughed too, knowing that Midnight was referring to how fast cops could be with their hands. She and Midnight had discussed it often enough.
“Hey!” Donovan said, doing his best to look offended but grinning all the while.
They left a little while later, with Jeanie following Donovan. She drove a newer-model 200SX that she had managed to buy on her student wages. On the drive to Mission Beach, where Donovan rented the house Midnight had lived in before her marriage to Rick, Jeanie reflected on what she was doing. She’d never gone to this particular bar. She and her friends usually went to dance clubs, not bars per se. This was going to be different. It would be interesting to see the social side of Donovan. Jeanie wondered if he’d be any different. Part of her wondered what he’d be like if he did get drunk, but the other part didn’t really want to know. What if he was a real jerk? Would she still be his friend? Of course, there was always the concern that he’d be the grabby type, and that he’d try something he shouldn’t. She dealt with that all the time.
Guys that took her out always wanted something by the end of the night, and she wasn’t really willing to give much on a first date. The fact of the matter was, she was a virgin and she figured she would probably stay that way for a while yet. Every time she got involved with a man, she knew there would come the time when he’d want to have sex, and she’d have to tell him. A lot of times the guy would say it didn’t matter, that he respected her for it, but in the end it came down to “give it to me or else.” When she didn’t give in, they walked. Lately, she’d stayed away from relationships because she wasn’t ready to get her heart trampled again. She was very cautious with guys, and she never trusted their motives, figuring they were always angling to get into her pants.
Donovan was the first guy she’d met that had been totally proper with her the whole time they’d known each other. He had never made comments about her looks; he never made sexual comments or jokes about sex. What he had said earlier in the day about being a gentleman seemed to be very true. He treated her with respect and she liked it, a lot. She was amused to realize that she was actually a little upset that he hadn’t really made any sort of move to get to know her on a personal level up until this evening. Now the thought of going out with him, even if it wasn’t really a date, excited her just a little bit. It was a chance to get to know him away from the office. She found that she wanted to know a lot about him. The most personal thing she knew at this point was that his parents had deserted him and his siblings when he was eleven. But she would have learned that anyway, since Midnight told her about it the day after she first met Donovan. It was obviously not a big secret.
Wanting to know more about him was what had prompted her to suggest that she follow him to his house. She wanted to see where he lived, and how he lived. When they pulled up, she got out of the car and looked at the modest house on the hills above the beach.
“Come on in,” Donovan said, his tone holding only a friendly note as he held the door open for her. She was waiting for some comment that would ruin her whole picture of him as a gentleman, but it didn’t come. Once inside she looked around. The furnishings were surprisingly nice for a man’s house. She had expected at least messiness, but she was far from right. It was clean and nice. The living room held a comfortable-looking sofa and an antique-looking armchair, and an incredible entertainment center with a huge television and a nice stereo setup. His dining room held a fair-sized antique table with four lyre back chairs. Jeanie was further astounded to note that his kitchen was clean. The room was long and narrow with a low island on one side. Everything was clean, and Jeanie couldn’t get over it. As she turned around, she noticed that Donovan was watching her.
“This is really nice,” she said, sitting down on the low island.
“Thanks.” He canted his head back down the hall. “I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”
“Okay,” Jeanie said, still trying to absorb this new dimension to him. Donovan disappeared down the hallway. Eventually Jeanie stood up and walked over to the refrigerator, curious what a guy like him would have in his fridge. She opened it to find that not only was it clean, but stocked well. She noticed two bottles of wine and a six-pack of Rolling Rock beer, but that was it for alcohol. She saw vegetables and bottled water, bread and real butter; there was no margarine. Everything looked very organized, and she wondered at the variety of things in the refrigerator, including fresh herbs. Feeling like a thief in the night, she looked in his cupboards next. She found spices, oils, seasonings, and staples such as rice, flour, and sugar stored neatly in clear containers. She was surprised to note very few canned foods, nor boxed foods either. He had the kitchen of a cook, and now she was curious if he cooked too.
Eventually, she ceased her investigation, after noting that he did indeed have a fairly nice-looking set of copper-bottomed pans that had all the marks of frequent use. She sat down on the couch and found the remote for the television. She clicked it on and was surprised when the speakers came on as well. This was obviously a serious man’s television. Experimenting with the sound, she found that it was indeed a powerful home theater system.
Well, he has good taste, she thought. She had to tamp down on the urge to investigate the rest of the house, for fear he’d catch her spying on him. She found that she was very curious now about his bedroom. What kind of room would a man like him have? What style of bed? What colors would he use? As it was, the living room and dining room were predominantly navy and cream.
Twenty minutes later, when Donovan came out of his bedroom he was wearing tan slacks and a hunter green polo shirt. He looked good. His hair was still a little damp, but he was clean-shaven and he smelled of Tommy cologne. He was pulling on a brown leather bomber-style jacket. When he walked around the couch, she noted that he still wore the brown Dr. Martens boots, but they looked good with the outfit.
&nbs
p; “Acceptable?” Donovan asked, noting her assessing look.
“Oops,” Jeanie said, grinning as her cheeks reddened. “You caught me checking you out, huh?”
Donovan smiled good-naturedly. “Well, I figure you want to make sure I’m not going to embarrass you or anything.”
“Donovan, appearance-wise, I don’t think you could embarrass me if you tried.”
“Well, thanks… I think,” Donovan said, smiling again.
Jeanie smiled back. “It was a compliment.” To her surprise, he extended his hand to her gallantly. She took it and allowed him to tug her to her feet. “Such a gentleman too,” she chided gently.
“See, I told you,” Donovan said, his voice just a little bit softer this time. Jeanie felt herself shiver at the slight change in it. She wondered if he realized she was leery of men, and that this whole thing had been more or less a test of his personality. Looking up at him, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She realized then, though, that she was standing very close to him, and she sensed that he was as hesitant to move away as she was. In the end it was Donovan that ended the moment. “Should we go?” he asked surreptitiously.
“Yeah,” Jeanie said, feeling a stab of disappointment that he hadn’t tried to touch her or anything. The thought surprised her; here she was testing him to see if he would remain a gentleman in his own home, and yet she wanted him to try something with her at that moment.
Once in the car, Jeanie inhaled the combination of scents—his leather jacket, the leather interior of the car, and the Tommy cologne. She wondered belatedly if she looked okay. She glanced down at herself. She was wearing black slacks with black ankle boots, and a lavender silk blouse that actually clung attractively to her. She remembered that she had dressed that morning thinking about the fact that she and Donovan would be alone together. It had never occurred to her that she’d be going out with him that evening as well. She glanced over at him as he drove. “Would it be really too female-like to use the vanity mirror and check my makeup?” she asked with an embarrassed grin.
Donovan laughed, glancing back over at her. “You look great, but if you want to see for yourself, no, I don’t think that would be over the top.”
For all Intents and Purposes (MidKnight Blue Book 6) Page 6