by SUE FINEMAN
“He’s not under arrest. The argument got a little heated, so I took him in for his own protection. I just wanted to let you know where to find him.”
She felt like screaming. “You interrupted an important presentation and you just wanted to let me know? You could have called and left a message. Instead you made me walk out on an important client.”
He shrugged. “From what I hear, you don’t need the job. Your rich husband can well afford to support you.”
“What rich husband?”
“The one your grandfather told me about. Or is it ex-husband now?”
Surprised that he’d think she could so easily replace him, Cait said, “I’ve never had a husband, rich or otherwise.”
“But Henry said—”
“You’re the one who went off to marry someone else. After you dumped me, I went back to college to get my MBA.”
“What?”
“Zola said your parents had found you the perfect wife, and you went to Florida to marry her.”
He slowly shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his aunt would say such a thing. “Crazy old woman. I went to Florida for training and to visit my parents, not to get married.”
She sighed deeply. “Maybe you should lock her up instead of my grandfather.”
“And maybe you should put him in a home or something.”
Cait crossed her arms. “Then who would clean up after Jasmine?”
He cocked his head. “Jasmine?”
“Your aunt’s darling doggie, the one who’s always decorating our yard with smelly little—or not so little—presents.”
“You mean that homely hound her last husband gave her?”
“Jasmine is cute, but she’d be cuter without the nail polish and perfume, as if that’s going to make a basset hound look and smell less doggy.” She waved her hand. “That’s beside the point. If Jasmine would stay in her own yard, we wouldn’t have a problem. Of course, that would mean Zola would have to scoop up the poop herself.”
Evan tapped on the door. “Caitlin? Everything all right?”
“Fine. I’ll be right there.” She turned back to Rico, wondering if she’d ever see him again. “Tell Grandpa I’ll spring him this afternoon.”
She walked back into the conference room to finish her presentation.
<>
Later that afternoon, Rico stood beside his car in the company parking lot, watching the main entrance to the building. Caitlin’s old beater was parked on the last row over. You’d think a woman with an MBA could afford to drive something better.
Cait came out of the building with her briefcase. She looked professional, yet sexy and beautiful. Her pale red hair, thick and shiny, brushed her shoulders in a sleek, professional style, and she wore her makeup with a light touch. Her dark green suit skimmed a figure he remembered so well he could almost feel her silky skin, smell her soft hair, and taste her sweet lips. If he didn’t watch it, he’d have her naked and in his bed, but he couldn’t rush it this time. Her grandfather and his aunt had deliberately broken them apart, and if he didn’t take control of the situation now, he’d never have a future with Cait. And that was what he wanted, what he’d always wanted. A future with Cait.
Rico met her at her car. “Cait, we need to talk.”
“Not now, Rico.”
“Then we’ll talk over dinner tonight.”
She shook her head and slid behind the steering wheel.
He hunkered down beside the car and looked up at her. “We need to talk about the situation with Henry and Zola. It’s time to put an end to their interference in our lives.”
“How?”
“Dinner. We’ll talk over dinner. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
She shook her head. “I can’t—”
“Six-thirty.” He stood and closed her car door, shutting off her arguments.
Once he settled the dispute between Zola and Henry, the good guy would get the girl. And this time, he intended to keep her.
<>
Cait drove directly to the police station. If she had any sense, she’d leave Grandpa sit in jail for a few more hours, but she couldn’t do it. She loved the obstinate old man.
She found Grandpa sitting in a jail cell with a drunk who was singing Show Me the Way to Go Home. Grandpa had a big safety pin over the zipper of his pants, and the drunk smelled like he’d died last week.
Grandpa looked up. “About time you got here.”
“I should leave you here to fend for yourself.”
“Can I help it if the zipper on my pants broke? Huh? I can’t believe that old biddy had me arrested. And then it’s just my luck to get the worst cop on the force. Rico Capelli.” He said the name like it was a dirty word.
She crossed her arms. “Are you finished?”
“I’m finished. For now.”
Rico walked up behind her. “You’re not under arrest, Henry. If you’d gone home like I asked, I wouldn’t have brought you in. Pigheaded old man.”
Grandpa’s chin came up. “Yeah, well, your aunt is a batty old woman.”
“Can’t argue with you there.” Rico motioned to a uniformed officer, who unlocked the cell door.
Cait handed Grandpa his jacket. “This is the last fight with Zola, Grandpa. I can’t keep bailing you out of trouble.” Taking care of him was like having a four-year-old. This wasn’t the first mess he’d gotten himself into, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
<>
Rico hurried home to get ready for his dinner date. He’d made reservations at Michael’s, the nicest restaurant in this part of town, and he’d pick up flowers on the way over.
Who was he kidding? It would take a lot more than dinner and flowers to get her back. Their last night together, she told him she didn’t want her kids to grow up like she had, with a parent who couldn’t keep a decent job. The words she didn’t speak shouted at him. She thought he needed a better paying job.
Their fight had left him with a badly bruised ego, and his Italian pride wouldn’t let him call her. And then her grandfather finished it off. He said Caitlin had found herself a rich man, they’d had a whirlwind courtship, and they were on their honeymoon cruise around the Greek islands. Rico couldn’t afford to give her a cruise anywhere. The cops in Frogtown didn’t make that kind of money.
He wore his best slacks with a soft yellow sweater, picked up flowers on the way over, and walked up to the door of the Harrigan house. Henry opened the door and then slammed it in Rico’s face. Frustrated, but not surprised, Rico leaned on the bell.
“Hold your horses,” Caitlin yelled. “I’m coming.”
She appeared at the door wearing a black mini skirt with a light blue sweater that matched her eyes. The big, floppy collar framed her pretty face, and he fought the urge to kiss her senseless right there in front of her grandfather.
“Are those for me?” she asked, and he handed her the florist box with the pink roses, knowing they were her favorites. She took the lid off the box and smiled. “Thank you, Rico.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d buy her roses every day if it brought a smile like that. “You look beautiful tonight, Cait.”
She looked him over from head to toe. “You look pretty good yourself.”
He followed her into the kitchen, where she arranged the flowers in a vase. The house looked clean and tidy, but it was more rundown than the last time he’d been here. The cabinets needed a fresh coat of paint, the linoleum floor had worn all the way through in spots, and the countertops were in bad shape. Other homes in the neighborhood had been remodeled and restored, and this one could be nice if someone put some time and money into it.
How many times had he kissed her in this kitchen, then taken her to his apartment, where they made love? How often had they come back here together, where she made him breakfast before he went to work? No matter what Henry and Zola thought, he wanted Caitlin back in his life.
Rico helped Caitlin on with her jacket and his hands lingered on her shoulde
rs. His gentle touch sent tingles racing through her body. She longed to feel his arms around her and his lips on hers, but so much time had passed. He may not be married, but Rico was a lusty, loving man. Surely he had another woman in his life, someone to love as he’d once loved her.
As he unlocked his car, a gust of wind swirled the dry leaves and one rust-hued maple leaf landed on Rico’s shoulder. Without thinking, she brushed it off. He put his hand over hers and held it there, while his gaze held hers in the dim glow from the street lights. “I’ve missed you, Cait. God, how I’ve missed you.”
Her eyes welled up with the intensity of his words. “I’ve missed you, too, Rico.”
He dipped his head for a kiss, and she couldn’t move away. His lips brushed hers, teasing and tasting, and she longed for more. His hand slid under her hair to cup the back of her neck, and he claimed her mouth with a hunger that left her weak and breathless. Until now, she thought she’d gotten over him.
“Rico,” she whispered, and he kissed her again, this time deeply and passionately. After the kiss, she clung to him, blindsided by the intensity of her feelings for this man. They stood holding each other on the sidewalk in front of the house, where Grandpa and Zola could see them. At that moment she didn’t care who saw them as long as he didn’t stop touching her.
Minutes later, they were seated at a private table in the restaurant. The last time Rico brought her here was on her birthday. She expected an engagement ring that night, but she left disappointed. Instead of taking her to his apartment to make love, he took her home, and he didn’t call her again.
“Remembering?” he asked, his voice deep and soft and sexy.
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t the way I intended for things to happen that night, Cait. I didn’t even give you your birthday present.”
She hadn’t celebrated a birthday since then. How could she, when they brought such painful memories?
They talked about Grandpa and Zola over dinner, but they were just killing time until they could leave the restaurant and be alone. From the look in his eyes, he wanted to make love tonight. So did she. She wouldn’t think about the past, and she wouldn’t wonder what Grandpa and Zola would think, because none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was being with Rico, having his lips on hers and his hands on her naked body.
After dinner, he drove her to a rundown little house three blocks over from Grandpa’s house. He turned off the engine and twisted to face her. “I moved here last week. I’ve been buying houses, fixing them up in my spare time, and selling them. I make more doing this than I do in my regular job.”
“You do all the work yourself?”
“Most of it. Would you like to see the inside?”
“Yes, I would.”
Building supplies littered the living room floor, and the kitchen was a total disaster, with half the cabinets stripped out and the battered old sink sitting in the middle of the floor. He opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, which he carried into the bedroom. “I usually update a bedroom and bathroom before I move in, so I have a place to live while I work on the rest of the house.”
The wood floor in the bedroom had been refinished, and the walls were painted a soft gray-blue. He motioned toward a door on the side of the room. “This house only had one bathroom, so I added a master bath and dressing room.”
The dressing room had a huge walk-in closet, and the bathroom looked like something out of a home magazine. It had antique cabinets for the sinks and the most exquisite oversized slipper tub she’d ever seen. But the best part of the room was the man who’d built it. “I had no idea you had this kind of talent, Rico. It’s beautiful. When did you start doing this kind of work?”
“When your grandfather told me you married another man, I put my fist through my apartment wall. Another cop showed me how to patch it so the landlord wouldn’t ding me for repairs. He suggested the two of us go into business together. Now he’s married with a baby on the way, and I work alone.”
“But you’re still a cop.”
“Yeah, I know it doesn’t pay much, but I couldn’t give that up.”
“I wouldn’t want you to give it up. It’s part of who you are.”
He cocked his head. “I thought you had a problem with the money I made. Isn’t that why you got an MBA?”
“I got my MBA because I didn’t want to end up like my father. He spent most of his life chasing the almighty dollar and never catching it. That’s why my mother left us. She said Dad was a dreamer, always a day late and a dollar short, and she didn’t want to live that way anymore. I wasn’t criticizing your job. I’m proud of the work you do.”
Rico cupped her face in his warm hands. “Forget about work. Tonight it’s just you and me, a soft bed, and a big bathtub. I bought a bottle of bubble bath today. Shall we try it out?”
“I thought we were having dinner to talk about Grandpa and Zola.”
“We did talk about them. Now we’re going to talk about us.”
She gave him a little come-on smile. “Just talk?”
“God, I hope not,” he said on a sigh. Impatient as always, his lips covered hers and coaxed her to kiss him back. It didn’t take much coaxing. “Baby, I could kiss you forever.”
“When you walked out on me, I lost part of myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I cried myself to sleep every night from missing you so much. Please don’t make me love you and then dump me again.”
“Not a chance, cupcake.” He clutched her to him. “I love you, Cait. I’ve always loved you, honey.”
She wanted so much to believe him, but five long years had passed, and the hurt had never gone away.
His cell phone rang, interrupting their tense conversation.
“Rico, your phone.”
He kissed her neck. “Let the damn thing ring.”
She shoved him gently. “It could be important.”
Without taking his eyes off hers, Rico answered the phone.
Lou, one of the 911 dispatchers, said, “I know you’re off duty tonight, Rico, but we’ve had a couple of calls about the guy you brought in this morning, the one the guys are calling the Frogtown Flasher. He and your aunt are fighting again.”
Rico sucked in a breath and blew it out. So much for a night of passion. “I’ll handle it.” If he didn’t, Caitlin would never forgive him. “On my way.”
He snapped the phone closed and swore under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” Caitlin asked.
He grabbed his jacket. “Most people don’t have this much trouble with their kids.”
She muttered something about hiring a baby-sitter the next time she left the house and followed him through the maze of building supplies to the front door.
Five minutes later, Rico pulled up across the street from the Harrigan home. The minute he opened the door, he heard angry voices.
Caitlin walked around the car and charged toward the house. He caught her arm. “Wait.” If they listened instead of barging in there, maybe they could hear enough to get to the source of the problem. He had a feeling it didn’t have anything to do with Zola’s dog.
Rico and Caitlin walked quietly toward the yard between the houses, where Henry and Zola stood yelling at each other. Jasmine plopped her big feet over to Henry and whined, and Henry stopped yelling long enough to pull a dog treat from his pocket and hand it to the dog. He was rewarded with a swish of her tail, and the treat promptly disappeared.
“Did you see that?“ Cait whispered.
“Shh.”
“Your secret is safe, Henry,” said Zola. “I promised you I wouldn’t tell the kids, and I won’t, but you can’t hide it forever.”
Hide what? What in the hell were these two keeping hidden, and what did it have to do with him and Cait?
Zola turned and gasped, “Rico!”
“Aw, shit,” Henry said.
“My feelings exactly,” said Rico. “Okay, everyone inside. We’re going to talk about your secr
et.”
Zola turned toward her house, and Rico said, “Henry’s house.”
“But Jasmine—”
“She can come with us,” said Caitlin. “I’m sure Grandpa can find her another treat to keep her happy.”
Henry’s shoulders sagged as they trooped into the living room of his house—the Frogtown Flasher, the woman Rico loved, his crazy aunt, and a long-eared basset hound wearing bright pink nail polish. Rico walked in last and pulled the door closed. No need for the neighbors to hear any more.
Zola refused to meet his eyes, and Henry looked like someone had let all the air out of him. Both sat down, but neither said anything. In the meantime, Jasmine rooted in the pocket of Henry’s pants for another treat. She pulled out a dog biscuit, and for several seconds the only sound in the room was that of the dog crunching her cookie.
Rico walked from one side of the room to the other. “Someone want to tell me what the argument was about?”
“None of your damn business,” Henry snapped.
“I’m sick and tired of playing mediator and I don’t like secrets.” Caitlin stared at her grandfather. “You either tell us or I’m moving out.”
Henry’s head jerked up. “You’d do that to me?”
“After you lied to Rico about me, you’re damn right I’d do that to you. Tell me why, Grandpa. Do you want to see me unhappy?”
The old man shook his head. “I know you love Rico, but you can’t marry him.”
“Why?”
“Tell them, Henry,” Zola said.
After a deep sigh, Henry said, “Zola and I loved each other when we were young pups, but her old man wouldn’t let us get married.”
Zola continued the story. “Henry got drafted and sent to Korea, and I didn’t know I was pregnant until after he left. My father insisted I give the baby up for adoption. Single women didn’t keep their babies back in those days, and I had a friend who couldn’t get pregnant. She wanted a baby so badly, so I let her and her husband adopt my baby.”