Wanted: Wife

by Stella Bagwell

  “Sure, why not?” Jenny told him.

  Five minutes later they were traveling down a street lined with elaborately landscaped lawns, massive brick homes and expensive cars parked in wide driveways.

  “This is it,” Jenny said as she carefully read off the house number. “I don’t see his car. He’s probably pulled it into the garage.”

  Orville slowed the patrol car to a crawl and looked out the windshield. “Boy howdy! How would you like to live in that?”

  Jenny studied the L-shaped brick home. It was modest by Hollywood standards, she supposed, but seemed rich to her. She wondered if he stayed there very much, and if she went inside, would she find a wife and children waiting for him to come home?

  She pulled her brows together in a faint frown. Lucas Lowrimore didn’t have that married, family-man look about him. In fact, he’d looked like a smooth philanderer to Jenny.

  “That’s not my cup of tea, Orville. I want to live where I can put my feet on the furniture and eat in the living room if I want to.” And she didn’t want a man around telling her what to do. Or hitting her if she didn’t do it.

  Shaking his head, Orville drove on past the Lowrimore residence. “You’re a hard one to figure, Jenny.”

  So she’d been told before, Jenny thought. But she wasn’t about to change.

  The two of them drove slowly through the quiet residential area, then turned and headed toward the main thoroughfare. They’d gone about five blocks when Jenny noticed a park full of kids. That wasn’t unusual on a late fall evening. It was the car parked nearby that caught her attention.

  “Stop, Orville!”

  “What’s the matter?” Frantically, he wheeled the car to the side of the street and reached to make a radio call.

  “Put that down!” She grabbed the mike from his hand and hung it on the dash. “That’s Lowrimore’s car over there,” she explained, inclining her head toward the black sports car.

  Orville’s skinny face swung toward the park. “Why, you’re right.”

  Before she even realized what she was doing, Jenny climbed out of the patrol car and peered across the fifty yards or so to the group of children and the tall man they were clustered around.

  It was Lucas Lowrimore! The football game he’d said he was hurrying to was obviously with these children.

  For a moment Jenny felt like a complete heel. But only for a moment. As a police officer she was supposed to doubt and never assume that a person was telling her the truth.

  From this distance she could see that he’d taken off the gray jacket and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt above his elbows. A football was tucked beneath his left arm while his right hand was busy pointing to specific children.

  What was a man like that doing with a bunch of ragamuffin children?

  The sight so intrigued Jenny she was still thinking about it when she got home later that night. Yet by bedtime she’d convinced herself it didn’t matter what Lowrimore was doing coaching football on a playground in the park. He’d simply been one of hundreds of traffic violators she and Orville stopped throughout the year. In her line of work she met all kinds.

  The next morning she was dressing when the telephone rang. She walked over to the nightstand by her bed, tossed back her long red hair and picked up the receiver.

  “Prescott here,” she answered quickly.

  A female voice at the other end of the line giggled, and Jenny knew immediately that it was her friend Savanna. “Jenny, you sound so official,” she said.

  “That’s the way I’m supposed to sound,” Jenny replied, laughing along with her. “How would it sound if the police chief called me and I answered ‘hiya, honey’?”

  Savanna laughed again, then groaned miserably. “Oh, don’t do this to me so early in the morning. I haven’t eaten my crackers yet.”

  “Still having morning sickness?” Jenny asked with concern.

  “Not nearly as much as before. I’m getting through it. Besides, it’s all worth it to have Joe’s child.”

  Jenny eased down on the side of the bed. “You must love that oilman a whole lot.”

  “I do,” the other woman said with a contented sigh that made Jenny wonder what kind of man it would take to make her feel that way. “But right now,” Savanna went on, “I’m wondering if you’d like to come over for supper. We’re going to barbecue out by the pool. Dad and Gloria have driven up for a visit, and I thought you might like to join in on the family fun.”

  Family fun? Jenny didn’t know what that was. She’d never known her daddy. As for her mother, she’d hardly been the cookie-baking, bedtime-story-reading type. While Jenny had grown up, Ruby Prescott had worked in a bar, smoked like a chimney and cursed like a sailor. In fact, Ruby was still living in a little town west of Fort Stockton, Texas, working in the same tavern and reminiscing about the smooth charmer who’d seduced her all those years ago and gotten her pregnant with Jenny.

  Twice a year Jenny went to see her mother. But she never stayed more than three or four days at a time. Just long enough to assure herself that Ruby didn’t need her. Actually, Ruby had never needed her daughter and never would. So when Savanna talked about family fun, Jenny could only wonder and wish.

  “Sorry, Savanna. I’ve got duty tonight. But thanks for asking.”

  “Oh, darn!” Savanna said with obvious disappointment. “How about coming over for breakfast then?”

  “Now? I thought you had morning sickness.”

  Savanna laughed. “By ten o’clock that will be gone and I’ll be ready for pancakes and peanut butter.”

  “Oh, Lord, I’m the one who’s going to be sick now,” Jenny said.

  “You can have yours with plain ol’ artery-clogging butter,” Savanna suggested.

  “Sorry again, love. I’m going to court this morning. I’ve got to meet with the DA about a manslaughter trial.”

  “Oh, a murder case?”

  Jenny reached for the coffee cup she’d left on the nightstand. After a quick sip, she answered, “You might call it that. The guy got behind the wheel of a pickup with his blood full of alcohol. At the I-40 exit on May Avenue he smashed into a car and killed two people.”

  Savanna said, “Do your best to put him behind bars, Jen. I don’t want anyone like him endangering my children’s lives.”

  I would never intentionally endanger a child.

  From out of nowhere Lucas Lowrimore’s words popped into her head, and for a moment she considered telling her friend about stopping the sexy-looking businessman who drove too fast. But she didn’t. Savanna was always hunting for a potential mate for Jenny. It would be just like her to call the man and ask if he was available!

  “I will,” Jenny promised. “And call me soon.”

  * * *

  As Jenny drove to the courthouse she noticed it was going to be another warm autumn day. White clouds moved lazily from the south to the north, and the first yellow leaves from the elms and hickory were beginning to fall and scatter across the lawns and sidewalks.

  Too bad she didn’t have the day off, she thought. It might be nice to ride her bicycle over to the lake, take a sandwich with her and extra bread for the ducks. But she had to work, and anyway she couldn’t think of a soul who might want to go with her.

  There I go with that lonely-little-Jenny stuff again, she silently scolded herself. What was the matter with her? Just because she would turn thirty-four in a few days didn’t mean she had to start feeling sorry for herself.

  She should be feeling as chipper as a songbird. Her birthday was on Halloween, and this year the police department was throwing a huge charity dance for the needy children of the city. It was going to be a big event with live music, lots of food and all sorts of people attending. She’d never had a birthday party before. So this was one night she thoroughly intended to enjoy. And no more whining about being alone, she firmly reminded herself.

  A few minutes later, she arrived at the courthouse parking lot. As usual, all the spaces were fill
ed. She made one pass through the rows of cars, then started on a second. If she didn’t find one this time, she’d be forced to park down the street and walk back. Which would make her have to hurry. Her meeting began in fifteen minutes, and the DA frowned on anyone creeping into his office late.

  Suddenly, a black car emerged unexpectedly from a parking slot directly in front of her. She pressed down on the horn, at the same time jamming on the brakes as hard as she could.

  All four tires squealed loudly on the pavement, and the hood bounced up and down as Jenny’s car finally came to a halt a few inches from the driver’s door.

  “Idiot!” She cursed under her breath.

  “What the hell! That crazy driver nearly hit me,” Lucas muttered. He jerked the safety belt away from his waist and climbed out the passenger door of the car.

  “It’s you!” Jenny gasped at the tall, dark-haired man rounding the rear of the black car. “I should have known!”

  Lucas’s head whipped around and he saw her! The redhead! It was impossible not to recognize her. Even when she was out of uniform, he knew the curvy shape of her body and that flaming red hair billowing around her face and shoulders.

  “You nearly hit me!” he countered as he stalked the few steps that separated them. “What were you doing flying through here like that?”

  Flying? She hadn’t even been going five miles per hour. “I was hardly flying, Mr. Lowrimore. What were you doing? Trying to get a ticket for speeding in reverse?”

  She couldn’t write him up again. At least Lucas didn’t think so. She was apparently off duty and without that little metal clipboard she’d scribbled his ticket on.

  “Actually, I’m late again.”

  Jenny didn’t know what it was, but something about this man made adrenaline surge through her body like a summer squall.

  Raking her eyes up and down the muscled length of him, she said, “Well, I can see you’re not dressed for football this morning.”

  He was wearing faded jeans, cowboy boots and a mustard-colored long-sleeved shirt. The clothes fit him as well as the suit he’d been wearing, and she knew if Orville could see him now he’d be just as impressed with the man as he had been last night. Thank goodness, she wasn’t!

  He gave her a crinkly-eyed smile, and Jenny’s gaze was drawn to the faint dimples in his cheeks and the slightly crooked line of his white teeth.

  “I’m on my way to work,” he told her, then realized she was the first woman in a long time he’d bothered to explain his comings and goings to. And he wouldn’t have done it now, except that she was a police officer. And for some damn stupid reason he wanted to tell her.

  Jenny’s gaze swept over his broad shoulders and trim waist. The man wore suits to football games and jeans to work. He was obviously rich, yet he’d been playing football with a bunch of street kids. What sort of man was he, anyway? she wondered.

  The kind you need to stay away from, Jenny.

  “Oh, I see,” she said aloud. “This morning you have a different excuse for your reckless driving habits.”

  He smiled at her again, only this time there was an odd sort of gleam in his eye that made Jenny want to place a protective hand over her bosom.

  “Not really. I’m running late, just like last night. Although, I wouldn’t be late this morning if a certain officer had been kind enough to give me a warning ticket instead of the real thing. Then I wouldn’t have needed to make this trip to the courthouse.”

  She was glad to hear she’d at least inconvenienced him. She smiled. “You look like a man who appreciates the real thing.”

  Dear Lord, this woman got to him. Lucas didn’t understand it. After last night, he’d never expected to see her again. Even so, he’d lost several hours of sleep wondering where she lived, if she was married and why he should even care. Now, this morning, she’d very nearly run into him. Yet at this moment he was exhilarated by the simple sight of her.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Lucas shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other and looked down at the pink color creeping across her cheeks. “Where are you going this fine morning, Officer Prescott? I see you’re without your gun and badge.”

  And Jenny felt naked. She didn’t know whether that was because she was out of uniform or because Lucas Lowrimore was looking at her the way a man looks at a woman and likes what he sees.

  She glanced at her watch. “I hope to be in the DA’s office in seven minutes.”

  He shoved back the cuff of his shirt and peered at his watch. “Damn, I’m going to be late, too. Let me pull out of the way so you can park your car.”

  Lucas climbed into his car. Before he could shut the door, however, she leaned her head in the window.

  “Yes?” he questioned.

  “I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that I saw you with the kids last night. You weren’t lying to me about the football game.”

  His dark brows arched with dry amusement. “You doubted my story?”

  Her nostrils flared daintily. “That’s what I’m trained to do, Mr. Lowrimore. So if I offended you, well, that’s just part of my job.”

  That almost sounded like an apology, Lucas thought. He didn’t get many of those. Especially from women. Most of the ones he knew where too busy wanting and demanding to consider his feelings.

  “Thank you for that, Officer Prescott.”

  She gave him a little smile, then turned away from the car. She’d already said more than she should have to the man. She had to get to work and put Lucas T. Lowrimore out of her mind for good.

  His car engine started, then his voice rose above it.

  “Uh—Officer Prescott,” he called out.

  She looked at him over her shoulder, then wished she hadn’t. He was smiling at her. One of those dangerous, masculine smiles that made a woman forget she had a brain or how to use it.

  “Yes?” she asked, not bothering to hide the wariness in her voice.

  “You haven’t told me your first name.”

  What difference did it make? Jenny wondered. She’d never see the man again. Unless she caught him speeding.

  “It’s Jenny,” she said.

  Still smiling, his eyes held hers. “Well, Officer Jenny Prescott, are you married?”

  The question took her aback, and then she let out a throaty laugh. “Not even in my dreams, Mr. Lowrimore.”

  Lucas watched her turn and walk to her car, his eyes appreciating every little jiggle of her body.

  She might be a police officer. And she might give his peace of mind all sorts of trouble. But she was all woman. And he suddenly knew he had to have her.

  Chapter Two

  “Not even in my dreams, Mr. Lowrimore.”

  Two days later Lucas was still pondering Jenny Prescott’s words. What had she really meant, he wondered for the umpteenth time. Obviously she wasn’t married. Nor did she want to be. But did that mean she didn’t want to be married in general? Or more specifically married to someone like him?

  Hell, Lucas, why are you even thinking such things? he asked himself. A year ago marriage hadn’t even been in his vocabulary. He was a bona fide bachelor. He was his own boss, he lived alone, and he liked it that way. Or at least he thought he did. However, more and more he was beginning to ask himself if that was the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

  Frustrated with his thoughts, Lucas rose from the wide desk and walked to the window that overlooked part of the truck yard. Tractors and semitrailers were lined neatly across the tarmac, the words L.L. Freight emblazoned across the side of each rig in bright red letters.

  L.L. Freight, he silently repeated. That was him. He’d built the business from the ground up, with nothing but a worn-out rig and his own two hands to drive it. Now he had scores of trucks and drivers and so many hauling orders they could hardly keep up with them.

  In the past ten years he’d made money. Lots of it. But he still didn’t feel rich. Truth was, Lucas had never set out to make himself rich. He was just a man who like
d to work, and the fruits of his labor had paid off.

  Lucas was proud of his business. He’d be crazy not to be. Especially in these days and times, when the economy could take a nosedive at any moment. But in the past year he’d come to realize there was a hole in his life.

  Years ago, when he’d been young and poor and uncertain about where his life was headed, he’d thought money would fix everything. Not a lot of money. Just enough to pay his bills and make him comfortable. Now he had more money than he’d probably ever spend, and he didn’t feel fixed or comfortable. He felt restless. He felt alone and he felt old.

  There was a light knock on the door. “Come in.”

  A petite woman in her early seventies with beehive blond hair and black rhinestone-studded glasses walked into the room.

  “I’ve finally managed to locate Mr. Johnson,” she said. “He’ll be in touch with you by the end of the week.”

  “Mr. Johnson?” he repeated blankly.

  The secretary shot him an impatient look. “The insurance man who says he can save you thousands on liability costs.”

  “Oh, yes, the insurance guy. Good work.” Lucas walked to the front of his desk and took a seat on the corner. “Lilah, are you an honest woman?”

  The older woman slid the rhinestone glasses to the end of her nose and batted her false eyelashes as she looked at her boss.

  “If you’re referring to my relationships with men, then you know, Mr. Lowrimore, that I’ve—well—known two or three men since I’ve been working for you. But none of them made an honest woman of me.”

  Even though Lilah was outrageously flamboyant, she was a sweetheart. And a hell of a secretary. He couldn’t run the place without her, and they both knew it. As far as her boyfriends went, Lucas figured she’d had more than a dozen or so in the past few years. But he wasn’t going to be the one to point that out to her.