by Liz Isaacson
A cop looked up from his station and said, “Berlin. Good morning.”
“Hey, Mason. Can I wait in the Chief’s office?”
“Yeah, sure.” He looked surprised. “You’re okay then?”
She stalled in her hasty stride toward Cole’s corner office. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I ran the trace for the Chief last night. He seemed pretty freaked out. Have you talked to him?”
“Yes, we’ve spoken.” She lifted the pink pastry box that held his favorite morning snack—a peach and pecan tart. “I’ll just wait in here. Thanks, Mason.”
He nodded and she went into Cole’s office. It smelled like him, that deep, rich spiciness of his aftershave and the fresh cotton scent of his uniform.
She set the pink box on his desk and stayed standing as she looked at the certifications he’d gotten framed over the years. They sat on a bookshelf and listed the trainings and courses he’d taken. The certificate from the FBI National Academy sat at the top, with beautiful gold lettering, and she reached out to trace his name.
“You have to be nominated to get into that program.”
She spun to find him standing in the doorway, tall and impressive in his black uniform. “And then they have to invite you. Can’t even apply.”
She nodded and moved out of his way so he could step around his desk and sit down. “I brought you a tart,” she said.
He didn’t open the box or say thank you, almost like he knew why she was there. He probably did.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” She’d said those exact words several times over the years, but never had it tore through her throat this much. Never had she wanted to recall the words as soon as she’d said them. Never had it felt like she was ripping her heart out and leaving it behind.
Cole didn’t blink. “So that’s it.”
“I think so, yeah.”
“So you can make mistakes and apologize and I forgive you, but I don’t get the same luxury?”
Berlin didn’t want to fight. Didn’t have it in her. Not today. “I guess not.” She started for the door, guilt gutting her. She expected him to step in front of her, place his big palm against the door so she couldn’t get out. Heck, she would’ve taken him calling after her to please come back.
Instead, the only words she heard were, “Thank you for the tart.”
Chapter Twelve
Cole had endured bad days before, but nothing like this Saturday where Berlin had left his office after breaking up with him.
After he’d yelled at Lesli for the third time, she’d gotten in his face and told him to go home until he could treat people kindly. And he had, but being home with Sarge and Honor was no better. At least they knew how to stay out of his way and offer comfort at the same time.
He didn’t go to the office on Sunday either. Or church. He simply wanted to stay away from people until he could do what his secretary had told him to do—be kind.
And he simply didn’t know how to do that without Berlin in his life.
He knew how to run, so he did that. He knew how to drive around town and look like he was busy, so he did that. He didn’t have to worry about running into Berlin, because she was buried with work, between her regular job and the police department audit. She only had a few weeks left to complete that, and her requests for an extension had been denied.
He wasn’t sure why the City Council or the City Controller wouldn’t grant her more time to complete the audit, but they wouldn’t. She’d confessed to him on multiple occasions that she hoped she could finish it in time, and he’d been hanging around her office every Sunday after church since the one where she’d left church early and disappeared.
He hated her disappearance from his life. He’d known it was somewhat empty before, but now his entire existence felt hollow.
He had no drive anymore. No desire to do anything, even so much as throw a ball for Sarge, much to the dog’s disappointment.
Pioneer Day in Utah was a state holiday, complete with family barbecues, parades, and fireworks. He put himself on patrol, not only to give the other guys a chance to spend time with their families, but because if he wasn’t working, he’d be sitting home feeling sorry for himself.
He directed traffic after the parade and hurried home to feed himself and the dogs before he went to the park to oversee the carnival. Jordan met him in the parking lot with a nod and a fist bump.
As they walked around, casually looking left and right, it felt very much like the summer fair, which had happened a lifetime ago, to another man.
“So what happened with you and Berlin?” Jordan asked. He was smart and didn’t look at Cole when he spoke.
“Things got…too hard.” He didn’t want to say anything bad about her. The fact that she’d caused him grief by kissing him in front of her family always made him see just a hint of red, but he wouldn’t badmouth her to anyone.
“Oh,” Jordan said. “I thought you two were a good match. You liked her, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Cole didn’t know what else to say. There wasn’t anything else. He’d treated her in a way she didn’t like, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Without her, he felt wild, out of control, and like he might snap at anyone, for any reason, in any moment.
She’d tamed all of that out of him, made him want to be a better man, slow down and think rationally and then speak with kindness and respect.
I tried, he thought, realizing he hadn’t told his mother about the break up yet. She’d be devastated, as Cole knew from their weekly talks that none of his brothers were dating anyone yet.
The afternoon wore on, and the large grassy field started to fill with families, couples, food, and coolers as the town of Brush Creek prepared for their fireworks. Cole wasn’t sure he could stay and take part in the celebration.
Exhaustion coated his bones from the inside out, and all he could think about was the last time he was in this field. He’d lain on his back to watch the fireworks, Berlin curled into his side, sighing and oohing with the crowd.
He’d put in a fourteen-hour day when he found another pair of officers. “I’m gonna head out,” he told Mason and Tate. “Jordan will join you two.”
“You’re not going to stay for the fireworks?” Tate asked, tilting his head to the side as if he could understand the Chief better that way. He was also Berlin’s brother-in-law, and Cole had avoided the man for the past ten days since she’d left him standing in his office with a tart he’d never eaten.
“I’m not much of a fireworks guy,” he said.
His officers let him go, and Cole took another circuit around the field alone, trying to find another person, someone, anyone, who was alone the way he was.
They didn’t seem to exist in Brush Creek, and for the first time since he’d left home twenty years ago, he felt truly isolated from everyone, almost like a pane of glass had been put between him and them and he hadn’t realized it.
“Hey.” Tate jogged up to him. “You should stay. Wren’s got our daughter and tons of candy. She said you could sit with her.”
“Berlin’s not with her?” After all, Cole knew Berlin and Wren were close. Not only had he observed it by the way Berlin sat next to Wren every week at church and helped her with her niece, he’d overheard phone conversations between the two of them, knew they worked together in the same office, and listened when Berlin told him that Wren was the best big sister.
Tate shifted and squirmed, which gave Cole his answer as he’d never seen a Marine show any signs of nerves. “I’m not—she broke up with me.”
The people closest to him looked up, and a pinch of frustration pulled through him. “I have to go.”
Tate got right in his face, the way Cole would expect a Marine to do. “Just answer one question for me, and then you can go.”
“Fine.” If it would get the guy out of his face, Cole would do it. He respected Tate a lot. He’d brought two dogs to their K9 unit and had been w
orking with them for almost a year. He had patience by the truckload and a vulnerability about him that made the other officers trust him.
“Are you in love with her?” Tate’s dark eyes flashed with challenge, and Cole’s muscles tightened in response. Fight or flight.
“I—”
“Yes or no,” Tate amended. “No I don’t knows.”
Cole clenched his teeth together. “Maybe.”
“Yes or no,” Tate pressed.
“I plead the fifth.” Cole stepped past Tate and strode out of the park without looking back. He could see the fireworks just fine from his front porch if he so chose. But he didn’t want the happy, sparkling bursts of color in his life. Not if he didn’t have Berlin to share them with. How could she sit with Wren and not even think about the last time she’d been in that park, watching fireworks? Was she dying a slow death too? Was every day, every hour, every minute this level of torture for her?
The thought made his chest collapse. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He hadn’t wanted to get hurt. But he supposed that was what happened when a person fell, and he’d definitely fallen in love with Berlin Fuller.
“Yes,” he whispered as he climbed his front steps and shut himself behind the very solid front door. “The answer to your question, Officer Benson, is yes.”
He didn’t want to own her. He simply wasn’t complete without her, and she should know that before too much time went by.
And now that Cole had admitted to himself that he loved Berlin, he needed to do something to get her back in his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Berlin read over the police department audit one last time, just to make sure every I was dotted and every T crossed. She checked page breaks and insertions and merge codes. If she looked at it any longer, she might just select all the text and push delete.
So she saved the document and sent five copies to the printer. One for the City Controller. One for the City Council. One for the mayor. One for public record. One for the Chief of Police.
Ah, the Chief.
He was never far from her thoughts, but she refused to let herself dwell on him for longer that seven seconds. She’d read somewhere that if thoughts could be redirected before giving them too much attention, they could be reformed. She desperately didn’t want Cole to plague her. At one point, she’d planned to live in Brush Creek indefinitely with him and that horrible first date at the crepery.
She could do it again. Their circles really had no reason to cross, other than this audit.
“Which is now finished.” She collated the reports and put them together into little booklets. She hated this secretarial work when she knew how she’d neglected her regular job. Wren had assured her it was fine, that they could wait to get their accounts payable and receivable sorted out, but Berlin hated the backlog of work when everything wasn’t done on a monthly basis.
She put the anxiety to the side and left the offices in favor of the city buildings a couple of blocks away. She hand-delivered all the audit reports until she only had one left. She didn’t have to hand it directly to Cole. No, her plan was to give it to Lesli, his secretary.
Then, onto lunch, she thought. She and Caitlyn had taken a half-day off of work so they could get together over salads and sodas.
Berlin had spoken to no one about her break up with Cole. Wren knew, of course, but she didn’t question Berlin at the office, through texts, nothing. She really was the best big sister a girl could hope for.
In a town the size of Brush Creek, everyone knew the Chief was back on the market anyway. Berlin didn’t need to explicitly say anything to anyone, and she’d already asked Caitlyn to keep Cole out of their lunch conversation. Her friend had agreed.
She eyed the cruiser that she’d ridden in dozens of times as she approached the station. Cole was inside. It had been just over two weeks since she’d ended their relationship, and she wanted to run and hide for another year.
“You’ll have to see him sometime,” she whispered to the stuffy, late-summer atmosphere. So she pulled in a lungful of that suffocating air and entered the police station.
Activity hummed like a well-oiled machine, and a few officers glanced up and acknowledged her. She went straight to Lesli’s desk and asked, “Is the Chief in?”
Lesli, who seemed to know everything before it happened, actually looked away from her paperwork. “Berlin. How are you, dear?” She got up and came around her desk to hug Berlin, not something that was terribly uncommon.
“Fine.” Berlin laughed lightly. “Just fine, Lesli. How are you?”
“Oh, I’d be better if that monster of a Chief didn’t sit and bark at people all day.”
Berlin’s gaze switched to the doorway behind Lesli’s desk. “Is today a good day or a bad day?”
“Oh, honey, since you two broke up, every day has been a bad day.” Lesli gave her a sympathetic smile and sat back down. “I can take that, if you’d like.”
Berlin hugged the inch-thick report to her chest. “I can give it to him.” She glanced over Lesli’s head to the rectangular doorway. The blinds were closed but the door open. Cole had to be in there, but she couldn’t see him yet.
Employing her bravery, she stepped around Lesli’s desk and toward Cole’s office, a few short strides getting her to the doorway. She knocked on the frame. “I have the financial audit complete.”
He looked up and their eyes locked. She threw the bound report out in front of her like a shield. “I think you passed.”
Cole stood, a storm raging in his expression. She couldn’t decide if he was happy to see her or not. Probably not. He hadn’t tried calling or texting her once. He’d never checked in about the audit.
She glanced toward the back corner and found a cot sitting there, a blanket folded on top of it. Surprise bolted through her, along with a bit of sadness. He slept here? Why was he sleeping here? He’d never mentioned that to her, and she wondered if the late summer and early fall festivities had kept him so busy he couldn’t even walk a couple of blocks to go home.
He moved in front of the makeshift bed and reached for the report. She gave it to him, their fingers touching the booklet at the same time for only a moment. Too long and too short at the same time.
“Thank you,” he said without looking at the audit. “I can’t believe you got it done on time.”
“Well, Paul wouldn’t give me an extension, so.” Berlin rocked back on her heels and gave him a smile that felt strained. “Well, I’ll see you later.” She turned, her first step putting her back in the main room, away from the scent of his cologne and the gorgeous sight of his face.
She may have imagined it, but she thought she heard him call her name. She kept going, sure she could cite the din in the police station as a reason for why she hadn’t turned back.
Her pulse felt like the beating of hummingbird wings by the time she reached the exit. She ducked to the side and pressed her back into the hot brick, trying to get a cleansing breath. She’d done it. She’d talked to him and not thrown herself into his arms. Seen him, and he looked good. Maybe he wasn’t getting enough sleep—and that cot in the corner of his office concerned her—but that was normal. Even hearing that he was acting like a monster brought her some level of relief.
Cole was acting like he always had, so their break up must not have damaged him too badly. Berlin wasn’t sure if she should be happy about that or not. As she got in her car to go to lunch with Caitlyn, her heart wailed. It definitely wasn’t happy that Cole didn’t seem to care that they weren’t together anymore.
Ruby’s Roost at lunchtime was like a carnival. People laughed and chatted, the scent of delicious frying food filled the air, and the whole place was packed with locals. Everyone from the pastor and his wife, to construction workers, to moms getting together for a couple of hours, to a handful of businessmen.
Berlin slid into the booth where Caitlyn waited and said, “You’ve got blue paint by your right eyebrow.”
Caitlyn reach
ed up and touched the offending brow and smiled. “Finger painting today at the preschool.”
“Of course.” Berlin didn’t need a menu, so when the waitress came, she ordered a plate of French fries, a big Caesar salad, and a round of pork potstickers. Not exactly a trio of foods that went together, but exactly what she wanted.
Caitlyn didn’t bat an eye as she put in an equally odd order of cream of broccoli soup, a plate of chicken fettuccini, and two cups of Diet Coke. “Those kids really keep me drinking the stuff,” she said with a shrug. “I already have a headache because I haven’t had as much today as I usually do.”
“You’re a saint,” Berlin said. “How’s Robert?”
“Oh, so we can talk about my boyfriend but not yours?”
Berlin leveled her gaze at Caitlyn. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” But she did want to talk about him, just for a moment. “I saw him today. Ten minutes ago, in fact.”
Caitlyn leaned in, her eyes positively dancing. “You did? Did he finally show up at the office with flowers and cake and a live band to serenade you?”
Berlin couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. “No. And now no matter what I say, it will sound stupid.”
Caitlyn laughed and reached for the Diet Coke the waitress put in front of her. She unwrapped two straws and put one in each cup before drinking, drinking, drinking. She smacked her lips and gave a very loud sigh.
Berlin shook her head and put a straw in her own soda. “I took him the police audit. We spoke for a minute or two. I survived.”
“Mm hm.” Caitlyn glanced up when the soup came. She opened a package of crackers and broke them into the soup. “I don’t know if I should say this or not, but let the record show that you brought up Cole.”
Berlin leaned into her arms on the table. “All right. Say it.”
“Honey, you are so far from surviving, it’s not even funny. I don’t even know what to call it. It’s the opposite of surviving.”