Dating A Cop (The Dating Series Book 1)

by Love, B. T.

  It had taken James a while to get back to his old self after what had happened to Brad. For a couple of months after his death he would break down out of nowhere when he would ponder a fond memory of him. I helped him every way that I could, giving him space if he needed it and listening to him when he wanted to talk. We even visited the cemetery a few times and left flowers on the grave, which seemed to help bring him peace. But all in all it was a new year and we were looking forward to new beginnings, especially since the cheeriness of spring was right around the corner.

  * * *

  “Hey babe, I’m gonna take the trash out.”

  “Okay baby.”

  I tied the garbage bag and lifted it out of the bin, passing the kids on the way out of the living room. “You two having fun with that game?”

  “Yeah,” they replied in unison, too busy with it to give me their full attention.

  I smiled at them as I opened the door and went outside. The air was still cold, but the sun was out and it was a gorgeous day. We needed the break in weather; we had had so many dreary days that it was getting depressing.

  I made my way to the dumpsters, passing Megan’s apartment on the way. When I got to the end of the sidewalk it sounded as if her door opened but I ignored it. I didn’t really want to look back and make eye contact with her. She was always one to try and spark up a conversation with me for some reason, and I was not in the mood. The day was just too beautiful to be ruined by her overly-provocative presence.

  I rounded the corner and rolled my eyes at the large bins. “Ugh, I hate it when they close the lids on these things.” I put the trash bag on the ground and then lifted the dumpster’s lid, pulling it back and dropping it open with a bang.

  “Wow, you sure are strong.”

  I turned to see Megan holding a bag of trash, looking like a perfectly-sculpted Barbie doll. “Not really,” I replied. “These lids are so heavy it takes both hands for me to lift them.”

  “Yeah, same here.”

  I nodded and picked up my bag of trash, tossing it inside. She followed after me, revealing her tanned flat stomach as she lifted her arms up and threw her bag in.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask how James has been,” she said as she dusted her hands together. “I haven’t seen him much and I know it was hard with his boss dying and everything.”

  I internally rolled my eyes at her statement. “Yeah, it was tough on him but he’s much better now.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’m always . . . glad, to hear when James is feeling good.”

  I cocked my head with irritation; I was a little put off by her choice of words. “Well, speaking of James, I should get back inside. We have a lot planned for today.” I smiled as nicely as I could manage and walked around her.

  “You know,” she said behind me, “it always seems like you’re in a hurry to get away from me. Is it because of my past with James?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “What are you talking about?” I asked as I turned back around to face her.

  A smile of mischief lifted her glossed lips. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” My pulse was racing. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to know what she was about to tell me.

  She crossed her arms and flipped her hair behind her shoulders. “We used to be kind of a thing back when he was going through his divorce.”

  “A thing?”

  “Yeah, you know, like friends with benefits. I really helped him through some hard times.”

  My heart dropped. Was it true? Did James really keep this from me? Or maybe Megan was just making it up to stir up trouble between us so she could dig her claws into him.

  I shook my head. “You know Megan, I really don’t believe you.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because James would have told me.”

  “Hmm, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. Because it’s the truth.”

  “Well maybe he didn’t tell me because he was ashamed of ever sleeping with you.”

  She twisted her lips and then managed another fake smile. “Mm, he really is good in bed, isn’t he? We rolled around beneath his covers for hours on end. I miss those days.”

  My lips parted but no words came out. I was shaking; I was defeated. I spun around and hurried back to the apartment, trying hard to keep myself from crying.

  When I went inside Hailey took one look at me and paused the game. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing sweetheart. Where’s James?”

  “I think he’s upstairs.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “Go back to playing your game.”

  She gave me an unsure nod and went back to playing.

  I climbed the stairs one by one, my legs almost giving out beneath me. When I went into James’s room he was in his closet thumbing through his shirts, wearing only his jeans. I stood there quietly, too shaken up to even know where to start.

  He turned around holding a shirt in his hand. “Jeez you scared me, babe.” His eyebrows knitted together at the sight of me. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

  “I . . .” My words trailed off into the space between us.

  He took a step forward. “You what? Can you please tell me what’s wrong? You’re starting to worry me.”

  I cleared my throat and tried to fight the feeling of vomit that was blocking my words from coming out. “Did you . . .” I whispered.

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you sleep with Megan?”

  His face dropped, and his coloring instantly drained away. I imagined we both looked the same at that very moment.

  “What . . . why are you asking me that?”

  “Tell me,” I muttered.

  He drew in a slow deep breath. “Yes.”

  I closed my eyes, the pressure squeezing out a tear that rolled down my cheek.

  He took another step in my direction. “Katie—”

  “No,” I said, raising my hand up to stop him. “Stay away from me.”

  “Please, let me explain.”

  “Yeah, go right ahead and explain this one to me. Explain how she just told me that you were friends with benefits. Tell me about how you rolled around in your bed under your covers for hours on end.” I wiped the tear away from my cheek. “Tell me how I’m supposed to handle the fact that she just told me that you were good in bed.”

  James closed his eyes and looked down at the carpeted floor. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You made love to me there,” I said as I pointed to his bed. “In the same bed that you screwed her in. Tell me something, James, is that the same comforter you had when you screwed her for hours?”

  He kept his eyes on the ground, silently confirming his answer.

  “I don’t even know what to do about this,” I sobbed.

  He looked up, his eyes glossing over with tears. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I can’t believe you slept with her, that she and I shared the same blankets.”

  “I slept with Brittany in that same bed too, with those same blankets. That didn’t seem to bother you.”

  “She was your girlfriend, James. And I knew about her. She wasn’t the apartment complex whore.”

  “God you act like I never washed my comforter or something.”

  “It’s the concept,” I said in a shushing tone, hoping the kids wouldn’t hear us. “I just can’t believe you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you.”

  “Oh here we go again. Is this the part where you say you didn’t lie about something, that you just kept it from me to protect me so I wouldn’t get hurt?”

  He stayed quiet.

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe I trusted you. I, I can’t believe I slept with you.”

  My words pained him. “What do you mean?”

  “You slept with a whore, James. And then I slept with you. What if you have an STD or something? What if you gave me something that
you got from her?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m not an idiot; I wore a condom.”

  “Yeah, no James, you’re not an idiot . . .”

  “Oh so now I’m an idiot?”

  “You can get STD’s from doing other things sexually with people.”

  “No, it was strictly sex with her, not any fooling around. And it was only one time and I regretted it.”

  “I can’t believe I slept with you without making you get tested first . . .”

  His face contorted into a look of anguish, as if my words crushed his soul. “Is that really what you think of me? That I’m some kind of STD-infested man whore?”

  “You said it, not me.” His jaw clenched. I brought my hands to my face and sobbed into my palms. “I can’t do this, James. I’m gonna go.”

  “No,” he said as he came closer. “Please don’t leave. We need to talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this. I want to go home and think about this, about us.”

  “What do you mean about us?”

  “I just, I want to leave.”

  He threw his shirt on the ground and then dropped to his knees, placing his hands on my hips. “Please don’t go.”

  “Don’t touch me.” I stepped away from him and he dropped his hands in defeat.

  “Please,” he begged while he started to cry. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”

  “Well maybe you should have thought about that a long time ago when we were disclosing our sexual partners to each other.” I left his room and hurried down the stairs, leaving him to cry on his knees. “Hailey,” I said through my tears, “it’s time to go.”

  The kids both looked over at me. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I managed to say with a smile. “I just don’t feel good right now and I want to go home. Sorry Tyler, she’ll have to play the game with you later.”

  The kids looked at each other and Tyler shrugged his shoulders. Hailey cooperated and got her shoes on while I grabbed my purse from the kitchen table.

  James came downstairs, his eyes displaying a trace of red. “Please stay,” he said down low as I walked past him to the door.

  I shook my head. “Sorry but the last thing I want is to see you right now.”

  “Will you call me tonight at least?”

  “No.”

  “Well can I call you tomorrow then?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on right now but we can work this out.”

  “Don’t call me, James,” I warned him quietly.

  He nodded and twisted his lips to try and keep from crying again. “Okay. If that’s what you want I’ll respect that.”

  I nodded in return and opened the door. “Come on Hailey. It’s time to go home.”

  Twelve

  “It’s been a week since you’ve talked to him,” Mary pointed out.

  “Why are you calling me at work, Mare?”

  “Because I wanted to tell you what Mark told Rick.”

  “I don’t care what Mark told Rick. I need to get back to work.”

  “Will you stop being so stubborn?” she huffed. “You should listen to what I have to say.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “He’s been devastated since you left.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “Oh shut up, yes you do. He’s been over at his brother’s house crying on his couch almost every day after he gets off of work, barely able to function. Mark told Rick that he’s acting like a zombie.”

  “It’s his own fault.”

  “Listen, I know that he kept sleeping with the whore from you but I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  “Oh,” I scoffed, “so you’re taking his side on this?”

  “Yes, I am. You can’t lose him, Kate. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you since Matt and you know it.”

  “Then he should have been honest with me from the start.”

  “I agree with that. But why don’t you just call him and hear him out?”

  “Mary, I really have to go or else I’ll get in trouble for being on the phone for so long.”

  “Call him,” she ordered me. “Tonight.”

  * * *

  “Hi.” His voice was soft when he answered, with an undertone of hopefulness.

  “Hi.”

  “I’m glad you called.”

  “Mary made me.”

  “Oh.”

  I cleared my throat. “How have you been?”

  “Miserable.”

  “You don’t know what miserable feels like.”

  The line went silent, and after a few seconds passed he sighed quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. You said that already.”

  “Well I mean it.”

  The familiar warm feeling of tears forming in my eyes started but I brushed it off, not wanting to cry any more than I already had the past week.

  “It’s taken every ounce of my strength not to call you,” he admitted. “I was trying to respect what you asked of me.”

  “So now you have respect for me all of a sudden?”

  “I’ve always had respect for you. You know that.”

  “Then why do you feel the need to keep things from me? That’s not respect.”

  “I was wrong. Can I just come over and talk to you please? I’ve done a lot of thinking this past week and I’m making some changes that I want to talk to you about.”

  “I don’t think so James. I had a long day at work and I’m really tired.”

  “Why did you work today? It’s Saturday.”

  “Yeah well Felicia came down with the flu so she asked me if I would cover for her.”

  “But you're never too tired to see me.”

  “Funny how things change.” He stayed quiet, and for a moment I felt like I was being too cruel. “And anyway,” I went on, “the last thing I want is for us to argue in front of Hailey.”

  “Well what about tomorrow? Can Hailey go hang out at your mom’s for a little bit?”

  “I, I don’t know. Besides, there’s a big storm coming in and I don’t want you out driving in it.”

  “Oh don’t give me that bull,” he shot back. “Listen Katie, I made a mistake and I’m sorry. I’ve been miserable without you and I just want to see you tomorrow so we can talk about it. If you cared about me at all you would let me at least try to make this better.”

  I thought about it for a second, being fully aware of the tugging desire to see him. “Fine,” I gave in. “What time will you be here?”

  “Whenever you want me to come over.”

  “How does three sound?”

  “Three’s perfect.”

  * * *

  The storm was raging outside, and I was worried about James driving in it. As much as I hated to admit it I missed him desperately. I had cried so much over my feelings being hurt, but after a couple of days my bouts of crying were because I just missed being around him. As much as I was wounded by his secret I still wanted him, and I wanted to forgive him for keeping it from me.

  Relief washed over me when I heard his truck pull up. I hurried to the door and opened it as he rushed up and came inside.

  “Man this storm is crazy,” he said as he pulled back the hood of his sweatshirt.

  “Yeah, I know. I was worried about you driving in it.”

  “Ah, I was alright.”

  I switched on my living room lamp and clasped my hands together. “Do you want to take off your sweatshirt? It’s pretty soaked. I can put it by the heater.”

  “Yeah, uh, okay.” He pulled it off over his head and handed it to me. “Thanks.”

  I nodded and went to the kitchen, laying it over a chair to dry off in the gentle blowing heat of my much-too-expensive-to-run wall heater.

  “Why don’t you have a fire going in the wood stove?” he called from the other room.

  “Because it was too cold to
go outside and split wood.”

  “Did you already use up the stuff I split for you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He left the living room and joined me in the kitchen. “I asked you to tell me when you needed help with that,” he said gently.

  “I can do it myself I was just lazy. I should have split some last week when the weather was nice.”

  He crossed his arms. “Can I make you one?”

  “What, a fire?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, no, it’s okay. I don’t want you going back outside. The rain is really bad out there.”

  He grabbed his sweatshirt from the chair and slipped it back on. “I’m making you a fire. You can’t afford to run that heater.”

  “James—”

  “Can you just listen to me this once?”

  I sighed as if I were weighing a life-changing decision in my mind. “Okay,” I said, giving him a nod. “Thanks.”

  “It’s no problem at all.”

  He went out the back door and trudged through the heavy rain over to the wood pile. I watched him for a minute or two from the window as he split the logs, raising the axe above his head and bringing it down hard with the strength I knew existed beneath his clothes.

  “He’ll want coffee,” I said to myself as I spun around and went to the counter. I poured his favorite grounds into the coffee pot and filled it with water.

  A few more minutes passed and he came back in with some kindling and a few logs to get the fire started. “I’m going to make a couple of trips back outside and get all the wood I split. Is it alright if I pile it up next to the wood stove?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m making you some coffee to get you warmed up.”

  “Oh. Okay, thanks.”

  He disappeared into the living room and I could hear the sound of him crumpling up newspaper and tossing kindling into the wood stove. The coffee finished brewing just as he clicked the lighter to set the pile ablaze. I kept my back to him as he passed me in the kitchen and made a few trips in and out, bringing the rest of the logs he split inside.

  “Okay that should be good for now,” he said when he came in and shut the door for the last time. “I’ll split some more before I leave so you can have enough to make a couple more fires.” Without waiting for my reply he went back into the living room and tended to the fire in silence.