by Susan Fox
Jake grinned. “That’s a great idea. You and me, Jamal, Karen.”
“Will you be finished work by dinnertime tomorrow?”
“We’ll make sure of it. What’s the best restaurant in town?”
“The Wild Rose. But let’s eat here. It’s more friendly. I’d love to cook for all of you. It’ll be a small good-bye present.”
His face sobered as if he’d only just realized that their time together was almost over. “Oh hell, Brooke,” he said, as he reached for her.
She slid into his arms. Keep it light, she told herself. That had been the deal from the beginning, and it was the only way she could handle this relationship. She nipped his ear. “Ready for bed?”
Chapter Twenty
News of Sergeant Miller’s arrest had been released, so Jake said Brooke was free to tell Kate all about it. That took up their entire Friday lunch hour, at the Big & Small. The only part Brooke left out was her personal relationship with Jake. She didn’t want to seem like a middle-aged fool.
And she wasn’t. She cared about him and she knew that, in his fashion, he cared about her.
Tomorrow he’d be gone. Out of her life, forever.
Intellectually, Brooke knew it was better this way. She and Jake had no long-term place in each other’s lives. She could count the reasons on the fingers of both hands, and still need more fingers. But the short term had been so special, it was hard to imagine her life without him.
“Just the same as before,” she muttered to Sunny as she assembled the ingredients to make lasagna. Except, before she’d been happy with her life. It had seemed perfect. Now she knew there would be something missing. No, someone. It wasn’t just a man’s touch, great sex that she’d miss. It was Jake. Scratching her cat, reading on the couch, helping her make salad. Talking across the kitchen table. Slowly, bit by bit, revealing himself to her.
Jake, the man who had brought Anika’s killer to justice, the man who wanted to get a teenager called Sapphire off the street. The man she’d fallen in love with.
For the second time in her life she’d foolishly given her heart, but at least this man deserved it. So, where did that leave her come morning? Bereft?
Brooke squared her shoulders. Hardly. Lonely, missing him, but not bereft. She knew she could live a full, happy life without a man.
She dropped lasagna noodles in a large pot of boiling water, put a container of homemade tomato sauce in the microwave to thaw, and began to sauté ground beef.
Thanks to Jake, she had wonderful memories to call to mind. Best of all, she’d know that the two of them had shared something special. That he respected her and truly cared for her. They might never see each other again but in a certain way he’d be her friend for life.
For her, it was the best outcome. She’d learned that she had healed enough to be a woman who could love, a woman who could win the affection of a wonderful man. That was a huge step. Maybe, some years down the road, she’d meet another great guy—a different kind of guy, one far more compatible with her. Perhaps then she’d be ready to take another step forward and feel confident that, despite her illnesses and her track record, she was ready and able to handle the pressures and responsibilities of marriage.
She poured the tomato sauce in with the beef, and stirred.
As for Jake, she hoped he’d learned something too. He didn’t believe his parents loved him. He wouldn’t let himself admit that Jamal was his dear friend, not just his colleague. He had apparently never—until now—let a woman get close to him.
This man who thought nothing of risking his hide was terrified of putting his heart in jeopardy, because his parents had taught him he didn’t deserve love.
But then . . . Wasn’t she the same?
As the thought flashed into Brooke’s mind she caught it, to examine as she went automatically through the steps of making béchamel sauce.
She knew she didn’t deserve Evan’s love; that was a fact. And yet over the past year he’d given it. Even with Jessica and Robin, she couldn’t quite believe—accept—the affection they showered on her. Then there was Kate. Her boss.
Her friend, too, she realized now. That’s what Kate wanted, and she’d been patiently trying to draw Brooke in that direction, but Brooke had held back. Undeserving, untrusting of herself.
Was it time to take another step forward? To open her heart to the friends who were just waiting for her to hold out her arms?
Yes. Jake had helped her realize she did deserve other people’s love. Just as he did.
Should she tell him she loved him? The idea was scary, but why should it be? It wasn’t like she wanted anything from him in return.
She smiled to herself. Honesty was her policy, so, yes, she’d tell him. Maybe the knowledge that he was lovable would help him to one day find a woman to love. Someone his own age, maybe someone like Karen who understood his work. A woman who could live with him putting himself in danger, who could share his excitement over the challenges of his life. A woman far different from herself.
All the components now prepared, she assembled the layers of lasagna and put the large pan in the preheated oven, then went upstairs to change. She chose a short denim skirt because she knew he liked her legs, and a blue-green blouse he’d once said matched her eyes.
Her reflection in the mirror showed the same old Brooke, and yet not. Same hair, same face, same body—but a new sparkle in her eyes. Jake’s gift to her. She now knew herself to be a desirable, sexy woman.
Another step in her healing. There’d been lithium and A.A. Plants to care for, then Sunny. Evan’s return, and his marriage. Jess’s pregnancy, and then, just when Brooke had thought her life couldn’t get any better, Jake.
Steps to becoming whole. A grandmother, and a sexy babe. She was grinning at her reflection when she heard a car drive up. A quick glance out the window told her it was Karen MacLean, and she hurried downstairs.
Karen came up the steps wearing jeans, a pretty gold-colored tee, and a huge smile. Her dark brown hair was loose on her shoulders.
To Brooke’s surprise, Karen caught her in a big hug. “We did it!”
“You and Jake did.”
“Nope. Couldn’t have done it without you. We should make you an honorary member of the force.”
Brooke shuddered. “No thanks. I’m too risk-averse. A little bit of excitement every now and then is all I can handle.”
Karen winked. “You can handle Brannon, and I’m guessing that’s more than a little excitement.”
“Karen, you haven’t told anyone? I don’t mind you knowing, but . . .” She shrugged, embarrassed. Others would think her a fool, not a sexy babe.
“Your private life is your private life. I’m not telling. But you mean you’re not going to keep seeing each other? You’re perfect for each other.”
Brooke chuckled. “Far from it. But it was fun while it lasted. No, we have no plans to see each other again.” The truth was, they’d never really discussed it. But in her mind their time together was perfect just as it was. She couldn’t imagine trying to prolong it, or to force it into a different shape. She was positive Jake felt the same.
Karen shot her a skeptical glance but all she said was, “Something smells great.” She held up a bag. “I brought champagne.”
“What fun. I’ll put it in the fridge.” Too bad she wouldn’t be able to drink it. Nor, she realized, would Jamal. She wondered what excuse he, a closeted alcoholic, would find.
The two women went into the kitchen. Karen took two bottles out of the bag and handed them to Brooke. The champagne was nonalcoholic. Brooke raised her eyebrows and Karen said, “You’ve got to drink the toasts too.”
Touched, Brooke smiled at her. “Thanks.”
She heard a car and headed for the door again, arriving just as it opened. Jake stepped through and caught her in his arms, “Hey, babe.”
She hugged him back. “Hey, yourself.” Then she turned to Jamal, who had followed him in. “Nice to see you again, Jamal
.”
He was grinning like his face would split. “You too, Brooke. Or babe, as some may call you.”
Was Jake actually blushing? Was such a thing possible?
Jamal glanced over her shoulder and grinned again. “Hey, Karen.”
“Jamal.”
There was something in Jamal’s eyes, and something in Karen’s voice. Brooke glanced between them, then toward Jake, who winked. He wrapped his arm around Brooke’s waist and she leaned into him. She’d take every last opportunity to touch him.
“Karen brought champagne,” she said, then added, “nonalcoholic, so I can drink it.” She avoided looking at Jamal.
“Sounds good,” Jamal said easily. “Karen, why don’t you pop that cork, and let’s start celebrating?”
As Brooke had learned, it didn’t take alcohol to have a good time. Soon the four of them were clustered around the kitchen table, eating with gusto and laughing and talking as they rehashed the case and celebrated their victory.
“I always liked my job,” Karen said, “but the detachment will be so much nicer without that ass Miller.”
“Who’ll be taking over for him?” Jamal asked.
She shook her head. “Don’t know yet.” Her eyes gleamed. “But I’m going to be the acting commander.”
“Congratulations!” everyone yelled.
She shrugged. “It’s not that big a compliment. I’m the only one they’re relatively sure is a straight arrow, who knows the community.”
“It’s still a compliment,” Jamal assured her, serving himself a second helping of lasagna. “It’ll look great on your record. Though I s’pose in the long run they’ll want a sergeant.”
“Yup. Replace a sergeant with a sergeant.”
“How long’ve you been a corporal? Enough to write your sergeant’s exam?”
“Not yet. But I’m studying. I want that promotion.”
“Unlike some folk,” Jamal said, shooting a pointed glance at Jake.
“Hmm?” Brooke said.
“I wrote the damned exam,” Jake growled. “Got tired of you hounding me.”
“And you passed with top marks, God knows how. But now you won’t apply for a sergeant’s job.”
“I like what I’m doing. Not everyone wants to be a desk jockey.” He scowled at Jamal. “Old man.”
“You’ve lost me,” Brooke said.
“Generally, as you rise through the ranks, you do less active duty,” Karen explained. “You coordinate others rather than doing the street work yourself.”
“And you’re in less danger?” Brooke asked.
The other woman nodded. “That’s usually true.”
“Then I can see why Jake wouldn’t want a promotion,” Brooke said. She glanced at Jamal. “Though I’d hardly call you an old man myself.”
“Nor I,” Karen chimed in.
Brooke noticed how her and Jamal’s gazes caught and held.
It didn’t surprise her one bit when Karen and Jamal both decided to make it an early evening, and the corporal offered to drive him back to his motel.
After they’d gone, Brooke said, “That’s an interesting development. Karen found a guy who isn’t intimidated by her.”
“Not much intimidates Jamal.”
“So I figured.” She clicked off the outside light and went back to the kitchen. “I’ll just load the dishwasher.”
“I’ll help.”
Working smoothly together, they tidied the kitchen. Brooke said, “Is Jamal like you? No plans for settling down?”
“Dunno. We’ve never talked about it.”
She tried to imagine what it would be like working year after year with someone, going undercover for weeks on end, trusting that person with your life, yet never talking about whether you believed in things like marriage, children, love. “I hope Karen knows what she’s doing.”
“I’d bet on it. And Jamal’ll be straight with her.”
“I’m sure he will. Just like we’ve been with each other.”
“Right.” He sounded slightly uncertain as he caught her hand and pulled her toward him. “You’re still okay with that, right, Brooke? About this being temporary?”
“Well, sure. I mean, we don’t exactly fit into each other’s lives, do we?”
He gave a lopsided smile. “Not exactly. But it’s been a fun week.”
“Yes, it has.” She broke away from him and set the dishwasher to run. When she ran a practiced eye over the kitchen, it met her high standards.
She leaned against the counter and gazed up at him. Bright lights, cheery yellow walls, the dishwasher rumbling, and the scent of lasagna in the air. Not one bit romantic. This was perfect. She didn’t want to terrify the poor guy, but she did want to tell him tonight. Before they made love. Before they said good-bye.
“Jake, there’s something I want to tell you. Just so you’ll know.” She swallowed, then rushed it out. “I love you.”
He looked like she’d socked him in the belly. “Wh-what?”
“I love you. You’re a wonderful man. A fantastic lover, but also a fine man. And I love you. I’ll always remember you with love and be grateful for our time together. I’m a better, stronger person for having known you.”
“You . . . love me?” He looked like he wanted to turn and dash out the kitchen door.
She had to laugh. “Aha, I managed to scare the tough undercover cop. No, seriously, Jake, don’t get upset. It’s just that I don’t think many people in your life have told you they love you, unconditionally love you, and I do. So I thought you should know.”
Frown lines creased his forehead, and she guessed he was thinking of his parents.
She took his hands and held them lightly. “Do you believe me?”
He stared down at their hands and then he squeezed hers. “Yes.” Then he squeezed harder. “Thank you.” He pulled her to him and held her body as tightly as he’d gripped her hands.
She hugged him back. “Ready for bed?”
He hadn’t said the words back to her and she hadn’t expected him to.
What she did know, as they made love through that last long night, was that with each movement he was telling her, in the only way he could, that she was as special to him as he was to her. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week. She was almost sorry they’d have to deal with the morning, and saying good-bye.
Brooke woke to find Jake sitting on the bed.
Dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, his hair damp from the shower, he gazed at her. “I think I’ll go now. No breakfast, okay?”
She nodded and forced words past the lump in her throat. “I’ll get up and see you off.”
“Don’t. I want to remember you this way. I can’t . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t do well at good-byes, Brooke. I just wanted to say, you’re amazing. One of the strongest people I’ve ever known. I’m so glad I met you.”
“Me too.”
He handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s my contact information. If you ever need anything . . .”
“Just try to stay safe. That’s the one thing you can do for me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He was going. The moment she’d known had to come was now here. Soon, very soon, she’d get back to her normal life.
Except, the prospect didn’t seem very appealing.
He leaned over her and touched his lips to her forehead, and then, soft as a feather, to her mouth.
Fighting tears, she caressed his cheek, then nodded, giving him permission to go. Then she lay back and closed her eyes, refusing to watch as he left. When she heard his footsteps on the stairs, she let the tears escape.
Then there was the click of the front door as it closed. The car starting up, then driving away. Driving away in such civilized fashion, compared to the way he’d arrived.
The tears fell harder. This was the right thing—the only thing—for both of them.
A soft thud, and the bed shifted.
She opened her eyes to see Sunny perched on
Jake’s pillow. “It’s just you and me again, pal,” she murmured, reaching out to stroke him.
She could lie there and cry all day. Call in sick. She could go down and open one of the beer bottles she’d bought for Jake. But she wouldn’t. Resolutely, she threw back the covers. “I haven’t been to fitness class in two weeks,” she told the cat. “I need to get back to my routine.”
She was halfway to the bathroom when she saw the painting. It sat on the floor, resting against the wall across from her bed. She stood back and studied it, enchanted by the romantic garden scene. Delighted by the idea that Jake had bought her such a wonderful gift.
He hadn’t given her the opportunity to thank him. He hadn’t hung it, perhaps because he didn’t want to wake her or maybe because he wasn’t sure she’d want this memory of him in her bedroom.
But yes, this was the perfect place for memories of Jake.
Chapter Twenty-One
A month later
In shock, Brooke gaped at her GP. “No, it’s not possible.”
Carlene Young, petite and thirtysomething, tucked her black braid behind her shoulder. “Are you saying you haven’t had intercourse in the past month?”
“Yes, I mean no, I’m not saying that. But we used condoms.”
“Every time?”
“Yes!”
“Your partner always put the condom on before any semen could have entered your body?” she asked matter-of-factly.
Brooke thought of all the times, and all the ways, she and Jake had made love. “I, uh, think so.”
“Even when you use condoms properly, they’re not one hundred percent reliable.”
Brooke groaned. “This can’t be happening.”
Dr. Young gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Brooke. You’re only a few weeks along but you’re very definitely pregnant. You’ll want to discuss this with the father.” A hint of curiosity lit her dark eyes. She knew Brooke had been sexually inactive for a very long time.
“The father isn’t in the picture,” Brooke said quickly. “Good Lord, I can’t be pregnant. I’m forty-three!”