by Tawny Weber
“That’s hardly a glowing character testimonial.”
Jade grimaced. She didn’t know which was worse. Harboring what she’d thought was an unjustified, unreasonable dislike for someone. Or being clueless that someone in her life was despicable enough to deal in human trafficking.
“You’re right, it’s not. I guess that’s why I’m not shocked. There’s always been something about her, and Neal, too, that bothered me. But I didn’t know what it was. I mean, on the surface, they were nice people.”
“Surfaces are deceptive.”
“You saw through it, though,” she said. “What was it that clued you in?”
“A lot of little things that when put together just added up. And one odd thing that really stood out.”
“Like?” She really wanted to know how he’d figured it out. She’d lived in the same town as the Kroger family since she was a little girl. Her sister had almost married into the family. And other than a nagging something in the back of her head—which she’d easily ignored—she’d been clueless.
“Like Persephone.”
“My cat?” Shocked, she glanced toward her house, a few yards away past the trees and hedges. “How?”
“She hated Neal. Not that she was overly friendly with anyone, but him? She growled, yowled and spit whenever he was around.”
Confused, Jade nodded, but said, “But that’s not exclusive to him. You saw it yourself. She did the same thing yesterday over my rescued underwear...”
Her words trailed off, her mouth forming an oh.
“I knew dogs could track things, find things through scent, but I didn’t realize cats could.”
“I didn’t, either,” he said. “But she reacted the same way over your thong, and over that brick that was tossed through your window.”
“So you arrested Neal?”
“So I used arresting Neal as an excuse to get onto their property and have a closer look.”
“Because?”
He hesitated, then saying it quickly, like taking bad medicine, he said, “Intuition.”
She wasn’t sure what fascinated her more. That he believed in something so esoteric. Or how adorable his sheepish expression was.
“If I’d followed procedure, like my captain prefers, I’d have busted Neal and the case would be closed. But I knew there was something else going on. He’d hatched the panty thefts as a distraction because they had a busload of illegals coming in. But instead of moving them on out within a few days, Mrs. Kroger apparently saw a chance to bring in her harvest and not pay for labor.”
“But if you’d followed procedure and arrested Neal here in town, you wouldn’t have had anything to justify going out to the Kroger property,” she confirmed.
“And by arresting him there, I had enough probable cause to call in Immigration.” He grimaced. “Kinnison’s still likely to bitch though.”
“Will he mess up your promotion?” As much as she wanted him to stay, Jade didn’t want it that way.
“Nah. I reported to Applebaum while on this job. He okayed the bust.” Diego gave a wicked grin. “He gets credit for it, too. That’s gonna piss Kinnison off even more.”
“Probably not as much as it will losing such a talented detective to a big promotion,” she said, reaching over to lay her hand on his knee. She pulled back after a second, though, needing to keep her wits about her for this next part.
“It’s easy to see why you got the promotion. San Francisco will be lucky to have you on their force.”
She watched his face, desperate to see a hint, any little bit of encouragement, to continue. He was in cop mode, though. Inscrutable and unreadable.
She swallowed hard before forcing the words past the lump of terror lodged in her throat. “Of course, Diablo Glen would be luckier to have you stay here.”
His stoic expression flickered. Narrowing his eyes, he shifted backward on the swing to better see her face.
“I know you’ve got a lot to look forward to in San Francisco. It’s a big promotion and a much more exciting place to fight crime than Diablo Glen.” She bit her lip. Then, unable to hold back the words, unable to even imagine life without him, she blurted, “But I wish you’d stay here. Applebaum wants you to head up the new police department. Everyone’s talking about it. And they all want you, too.”
“What?”
Why did he sound surprised?
“Everyone loves you,” she told him, stating the obvious. “At least, everyone I’ve heard mention the subject. They’re all hoping you’ll take the position.”
She gave him a naughty smile, then added, “Of course, some of the ladies are hoping you’ll take it because they think you add a sexy vibe to the view around town.”
He pulled a face. Then he gave her another searching look. “What about you?”
She couldn’t read his voice. Couldn’t tell what he wanted to hear. So she had to go with what she had—the truth.
“I want you to stay. You’d be wonderful at the job. You’re good for the town, and I think the town would be good for you.” At his arch look, she put it all out there, reaching over to take his fingers in hers. “I want you to stay, for us. To see if we can make this work.”
He didn’t say anything. Jade’s stomach pitched into her toes, but she continued anyway. “I have a lot more shoes. Boots. Sandals. The variety of lingerie and footwear combinations are endless.”
His eyes turned to liquid heat and he gave a low hum of approval. Then he shifted, reaching over to lift her out of her swing and onto his lap.
Jade laughed in delight, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“If I hadn’t already accepted the job, the shoe offer would have done it for me,” Diego said with a laugh. Beneath the humor, though, his words held an emotion she couldn’t read. Jade shifted, needing to see his face. In his eyes, she saw a joy that was almost childlike. So pure, so happy, it brought tears to her eyes.
“I was going to take it, move here and chase after you until you gave in,” he told her. “I figured it’d take a few months, maybe some bribes, but I’d wear you down eventually.”
“I can’t believe you’re really going to stay.” Delighted, and feeling freer than she ever had, Jade snuggled deeper into his arms.
Strong, warm and so tight she didn’t think he’d ever let her go.
Good.
His mouth took hers in a kiss so sweet, so gentle, her heart wept in delight. The feelings that poured through her, through them, were stronger than anything Jade had ever felt. Or ever dreamed of feeling. He was amazing. And he made her feel amazing.
“My hero,” she whispered when he lifted his mouth. Needing a second, she buried her face in his throat, letting his scent fill her, empower her. She really, really did love him.
“What kind of bribes?” she asked when he released her mouth.
“I took the job on a probationary basis. Six months. I figured I’d have convinced you that you were crazy about me by then, and I could give you the option of us staying here.” He pulled back so he could see her face, his eyes so intent they made Jade nervous. “Or, if it’s what you wanted, I’d find a way to set things up here so you, so we, could move to San Francisco. Or Los Angeles, New York, anywhere you wanted.”
Her heart turned into a puddle of gooey joy. Jade couldn’t stop smiling. He was giving them a chance. A shot at a future together. Here, there, anywhere that made them happiest.
“Are you sure about this?” she ask
ed. “You’re giving up a promotion, aren’t you?”
“I’m not giving up anything. I’m getting everything.”
Diego reached out, his finger tracing the line of her jaw. Then, his eyes intent on hers, he leaned forward to brush his lips over hers in a soft promise of a kiss.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered.
Just like that, all Jade’s fears melted away.
Right here, waiting patiently, was her every dream come true.
Jade giggled, the emotions exploding through her with the excitement of glitter and confetti. She threw her arms around Diego’s neck.
“I love you,” she declared happily.
“I’ve never had anyone love me. Never had anyone want me to stay around. You make me feel amazing.” He pulled back, just enough to see her face. His eyes intent, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it, he said, “I didn’t believe it existed, to be honest. But you’ve made me believe that love is real. That I deserve it, and can give it. I love you, Jade. I never knew anything could feel this good.”
“And it’s only going to get better,” she vowed, her words a promise to them both.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Just One Night by Nancy Warren.
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1
“SICK LEAVE?” Rob Klassen yelled, unable to believe what he was hearing from the editor of World Week, the international current affairs magazine he’d worked for as a photojournalist for twelve years. “I’m not sick!”
Gary Wallanger pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto his desktop cluttered with Rob’s proof sheets documenting a skirmish in a small town near the Ras Ajdir border between Tunisia and Libya. “What do you suggest I call it? Shot-in-the-ass leave? You damned near got yourself killed. Again.”
Gary didn’t like his people getting too close to the action they were reporting on and his glare was fierce.
Rob put all his weight on his good leg, but even so, the throbbing in his left thigh was hard to ignore. “I was running away as fast as I could.”
“I saw the hospital report. You were running toward the shooter. Bad luck for you. They can tell those things from the entry and exit wounds.” In the uncomfortable silence that followed Rob heard the roar of traffic, honking cabs and sirens on the Manhattan streets far below. He hadn’t counted on Gary finding out the details he’d have rather kept to himself.
“You want to be a war hero,” his editor snapped, “join the forces. We report news. We don’t make it.”
Another beat ticked by.
“There were bullets flying everywhere. I got disoriented.”
“Bull. You were playing hero again, weren’t you?”
Rob could still picture the toddler cowering behind an oil drum. Yeah, his boss would have been happier if he’d left her scared and crying in the line of gunfire. But he was the one who had to wake up every morning and look himself in the mirror. Truth was he hadn’t thought at all. He’d merely dashed over to the girl and hauled her to safety. Getting shot hadn’t been in his plan.
Would he have acted any differently if he’d known what the outcome would be? He sure as hell hoped not.
He knew better than to tell Gary any of that. “You don’t win Pulitzers with a telephoto lens. I needed to get close enough to capture the real story.”
“Close enough to take a bullet in the leg.”
“That was unfortunate,” Rob admitted. “I can still handle a camera though. I can still walk.” He made a big show of stalking across the carpeted office, scooting around the obstacle course of stacked back issues, piled newspapers and a leaning tower of reference books. If he concentrated he could manage to stride without a limp or a wince though he could feel sweat begin to break out from the effort.
“No.” The single word stopped him in his tracks.
He turned. “I’m the best you’ve got. You have to send me back out on assignment.”
“I will. As soon as you can run a mile in six.”
“A mile in six minutes? Why so fast?”
Gary’s voice was as dry as the North African desert. “So the next time you have to run for your life you can make it.”
Rob paused for breath and grabbed a chair back for support. He and Gary had been friends for a long time and he knew the guy was making the right decision even if it did piss him off. “It was pure bad luck. If I’d dodged right instead of left...”
“You know most people would be pretty happy to be alive if they were you. And they’d be thrilled to get a paid vacation.” Gary picked up his glasses and settled himself behind his desk.
“They patched me up at the closest military hospital. It was nothing but a flesh wound.”
“The bullet nicked your femur. I do know how to read a hospital report.”
Damn.
“Go home. Rest up. The world will continue to be full of trouble when you get back.” Rob knew Gary was still aggravated by the fact that he didn’t compliment him on his photos, which they both knew to be superb. Instead of getting the praise he deserved, he was being sent home like a kid who’d screwed up.
He scowled.
Home.
He’d been on the road so much in the past few years that home was usually wherever he stashed his backpack.
If he’d ever had a home, it was in Fremont, Washington, a suburb of Seattle that prided itself on celebrating counterculture, considering itself the center of the universe and officially endorsing the right to be peculiar. Fremont seemed a fitting destination for him right now that he was feeling both self-centered and peculiar. Besides, it was the only place he could think of to go even though everything that had made the place home was now gone.
“All right. But I heal fast. I’ll be running six-minute miles in a couple weeks. Tops.”
“You’ll be under a doctor’s care and I’ll be needing the physician’s report before I can reinstate you for any assignments in the field.”
“Oh, come on, Gary. Give me a freakin’ break.”
Once more the glasses came off and he was regarded by tired hazel eyes. “I am giving you a break. I could assign you to a desk right here in New York. That’s your other option.”
He shook his head. No way he was being trapped in a small space. He didn’t like feeling trapped. Not ever. “See you in a couple of weeks.”
Once he was out of Gary’s office and in the hallway Rob gave up the manly act and tried to put as little weight on his injured leg as possible.
“Rob, you should be on crutches,” a female voice called out.
He turned, recognizing the voice and mustering a happy-to-see-you smile. “Romona, hi.”
A print business reporter making the transition to television, Romona had the looks of a South American runway model and the brains of Hillary Clinton. They got together whenever they were both in New York. Neither had any interest in commitment but enjoyed each other’s company and bodies. “I heard you were hurt. How are you doing?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Even though they’d never do anything as obvious as hug in pub
lic, the glance she sent him from tilted green eyes steamed around the edges. She dropped her voice. “Why don’t you come over later and I’ll kiss you all better?”
“I’m filthy. Haven’t shaved in days, had a haircut in weeks, my—”
“I like you scruffy. You look like a sunburned pirate.”
He knew he’d hit rock bottom when he realized he had no desire to spend the night with a passionate woman. His leg was burning, he had a vicious case of jet lag and he’d been pulled out of the field. He felt too worn-out tired even to get laid. All he wanted to do was hide out for a while and heal.
He shook his head attempting to appear more disappointed than he was. “Sorry. I have a plane to catch.”
She knew as well as he did that plane tickets could be changed and it was a measure of his exhaustion that this was the best excuse he could come up with.
She didn’t call him on it though, merely patted his arm and said, “Maybe next time.”
That was the great thing about Romona. She was a lot like him. He’d enjoyed any number of women over the years, loved sex, but had no interest in settling down. Career came first. Maybe it was shallow, and maybe there was a part of him that longed for a woman to comfort him, to listen to his stories, share his pain. The only woman who’d ever been like that, though, had been his grandmother. Ruefully, he suspected she’d been the love of his life.
And now she was gone.
He had so many frequent flyer miles that upgrading was no problem when he got to LaGuardia. He even scored an aisle seat so he could stretch his bad leg out a little.
Once airborne, he recalled that the family attorney had tried to talk to him about the Fremont house. What with getting shot and all, he hadn’t got around to calling back. He’d call him as soon as he got into Seattle.
It was something to do with Bellamy House, the old family place where he’d spent so much time with his grandmother.
He couldn’t imagine the place without her. As a stab of pain hit, he took out the paperback he’d brought and forced himself to read.