by J. M. Madden
She sat back in her chair, surprised at all they had in common. They each had a love of speed and riding the edge of danger. As one of the few women to fly the heavy Super Stallion helicopter in combat she wouldn’t have given that experience up for anything. It had been the most trying but rewarding thing she had ever done. Dean talked about law enforcement the same way.
The two of them also had a love of physical fitness and an eagerness to experience all life had to offer. When he mentioned the motorcycle he’d crashed she took him out to the garage to show him her bike. The black Honda 250R was a few years old but definitely suited her need for speed…occasionally.
“I had a Ninja 650R. That thing was a beast,” he sighed, face going soft with remembered enjoyment. “But it got away from me on a rainy night. I’ve been thinking about getting something new to replace it.”
There had to be several years’ difference between them, but everything he talked about she enjoyed. “How old are you, Dean?”
Again, that ornery grin. “I’m twenty-nine.”
A few years younger than her, not much, but miles apart in experiences.
Rachel wanted to act more reserved, but there was no way. She was enjoying talking with him too much.
“Tell me about the military.”
She lifted her brows in surprise. “Well, I was in there for ten years, all tolled, before I was shot down. I flew the Super Stallion, a heavy equipment and personnel helicopter. I could haul 55 troops or thirty thousand pounds of cargo. Or if it was a slung load, up to thirty-six thousand pounds. I hauled Humvees and armored vehicles all over Afghanistan.”
He blinked in amazement. “That’s incredible. Truly. I’ve been near those things and they are impressive. Massive machines.”
“Yes, they are. It was a great time in my life,” she admitted. “I still miss it.”
He nodded, eyes going thoughtful. “I would miss running hot if I couldn’t do it again. And just helping people.”
Rachel nodded. “I know what you mean. That’s one thing I love about LNF. We do that there.”
“If you have a job that you can feel fulfilled and like you’re helping the community, that really makes a difference in your well-being.”
It did, truly.
Rachel took a more comprehensive look at Dean. Yes, he was handsome and virile but he had a depth to him that she didn’t always see in men. Coming from the military environment she’d been in, she’d seen more than her share of egotistical jocks. Dean had the build and character to dominate any situation if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Everything she’d seen him do had been compassionate and gentle. And he didn’t feel the need to act like he knew everything.
“I agree, whole-heartedly,” she smiled.
That direct gaze dropped to her mouth and it was all she could do to keep her lips curved.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Rachel.”
The smile completely fell away as arousal swirled through her. Damn, it had been a long time since anyone had stirred her that way. She’d heard the words before, many times, but when they were thrown at her as an attack, questioning her ability to do her job or how she’d gotten there, the effect had been very different.
Dean wasn’t belittling her or trying to get sexual favors from her in the middle of the desert.
Taking a heavy breath, she tipped her head. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate that.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall and started gathering up trash. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this I should probably get going. You’re still recovering.”
Rachel also glanced up, amazed to see that it was after ten o’clock. She didn’t want him to leave. She was enjoying herself and had totally forgotten about her pain and boredom.
Piling everything in the paper bag he started to put it in her trashcan, but it was too full. Setting the paper bag aside he pulled the plastic bag full of trash from the can, settled it against the floor a couple times and put the paper bag inside. “Where’s your trash can?”
She motioned out the back door to the wheeled Waste Management container, a little humiliated that he was hauling out her trash but also fascinated. Damn. A good looking guy with conversation skills, unending sexiness and an openness to clean. What the hell?
Dean laughed when he caught her looking at him and moved close enough to look down at her. “I took the trash out but you can put the bag back in.” Then he seemed to reconsider his words. “Wait, where are your trash bags?”
“Left hand cupboard under the sink.”
Sighing, he moved to pull a folded bag from the roll, snapping it open before he settled it into the trash can. Then, moving back to her he leaned down to drop a kiss to the top of her head. “I only did it this time because you’re injured and I didn’t want you to bend over. I can tell how stiff you are. Next time it’s your turn.”
He pointed a meaty finger at her, then gathered up his phone and turned to leave.
Rachel followed him to the door, her bones creaking. The huge man took up a lot of room in her home but she hated to see him leave. “Dean, thank you so much for the dinner and everything. I really do appreciate it.”
“Thank you for seeing me. I hope it doesn’t seem too strange.” He cast her a squinty look in question.
She shook her head, what she could. “Not at all.”
“Think we can do it again, but maybe go out next time?”
Rachel blinked, a little caught off guard. “Yes, I guess we can. Call me.”
That broad grin stretched his mouth again and she had to catch her breath. Before she could move away he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. Rachel gasped but he’d already pulled away and was slipping out the door.
As she watched his broad back heading to the black truck in the driveway, she had one of those premonitions. There was another crash coming. This time straight to her heart.
FIVE
Dean hated to leave. When she’d opened the door and he’d seen her standing there, his tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth. When he’d picked her up at the hospital she’d cleaned up a little, but damn. Now that she’d removed the big bandage and gotten some sleep, she looked flippin’ gorgeous. He’d had no idea.
But her expressive eyes had still carried a lot of pain.
Everybody had issues to deal with in life. Rachel seemed like she’d had to deal with more than normal, though. Dean wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her on his lap, curled under his chin as he blocked out the world and gave her a chance to recover.
As he slid into the cab of his truck, he looked back at the house. She stood backlit by the living room lamp, a thoughtful smile on her face.
Though she hadn’t said it outright, he knew she wasn’t wild about the few years’ age difference between them. It didn’t mean anything to him, really. The woman was incredible. She hadn’t gushed about herself like a lot of women he’d met out here. And she certainly didn’t make herself out to be more than she was. There were a few pictures throughout her condo, one of which was of her in her flightsuit standing next to a small group of other women in flightsuits. Her hair had been a lot shorter then, but she’d still been stunning.
Dean felt a pull to Rachel that he’d never experienced with any other woman. From the slightly dazed look in her eyes when he’d kissed her he hoped she felt the same.
Killian teased him unmercifully the next day as he agonized over whether or not to send her flowers. “I don’t think she’s into flowers.” He frowned, looking at the pages of options on the computer in front of him.
“All women are into flowers.”
Killian didn’t even look up from filling out his paperwork, so he missed the skeptical look Dean sent him. Then he did jerk his head up. “Hey, there’s a place in Arvada that sends those edible arrangements. I bet she likes cookies or fruit.”
Dean thought about it for a minute. “That may not be so bad.”
He found the place online and placed an order for a mixed arrangement o
f brownies and cookies.
Killian grinned at him as he pushed away from the desk, paperwork in hand. He smacked Dean on the shoulder. “Hopefully she won’t think you’re criticizing her weight.”
Dean looked up at him sharply. “No way. She wouldn’t, would she?”
Killian shrugged his heavy shoulders. “You never know with women. They’re strange creatures. I’ve been married eighteen years and I still haven’t figured my wife out. When she starts yelling, I just apologize. Then I get her flowers.”
Dean gave his buddy a look. His wife Joyce was one of the most pleasant people he’d ever met. He doubted she’d ever lifted her voice to her husband at all.
Killian must have seen the look on his face because he grinned, his blue eyes shining. “Okay, I may be messin’ with you. I love her to pieces and we get along better than we ever have. Now that the yahoos are getting older and more self-sufficient, we have more time for each other. She’s really sweet right now because she wants to do another cruise this year. I’m going to soak up the lovin’ then give in, but not just yet.”
Dean laughed at the wicked light in his buddy’s eyes. Killian had been his training officer when he’d first moved out here last year, and they’d been the best of friends since. They traded insults and jokes almost constantly, but Dean new if he ever needed anything Killian would be right there.
Dean gave him a serious look. “Rachel appeals to me more than any other woman I’ve ever met. It’s a little scary how similar we are.”
Killian grinned at him crookedly. “That’s excellent! Good thing you weren’t working that day, huh?”
“I know.”
If there were an active case it was kind of an understood rule that there could be no fraternization between the officer in charge and the subject. Too much chance to lose objectivity. But Dean wasn’t worried about that.
Even if he had been the officer doing the report he doubted he would have been able to resist asking her out.
* * *
RACHEL WENT BACK to work on Wednesday. Wilde had talked her into staying home an extra day, probably because he’d heard the pain in her voice. She was too stubborn to take the pain pills they had given her but she would take the time off, then make up her workload later.
When she walked into the gleaming office building that morning, Shannon was waiting for her. The smaller woman dared to reach out and wrap Rachel in a hug. “I was so worried about you. Are you okay?”
For a moment, Rachel was a little choked up. She wasn’t aware she’d meant that much to Shannon. Yeah, she’d been incredibly welcoming, but hadn’t she done that for all the new hires? Maybe it was just because she was now pregnant now and everything seemed to make her emotional.
“I’m fine. Just bruised and sore.”
Shannon turned her left arm over and gasped at the line of stitches. “Oh, fuck!”
She slapped a hand over her mouth and looked down the hallway guiltily, scanning for Palmer. “I told John he had to start laying off the word fuck because the baby is coming, and now I’ve said it.”
Shaking her head, wincing, she released Rachel’s hand.
“When did this happen?”
“Saturday.”
“And they had to cut you out with the jaws of life? Is that what I heard?”
Rachel nodded and pulled out her cell phone to show Shannon the picture of the mangled car. Dean had taken it for her. The smaller woman’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry.” She reached out and gave Rachel a hug again. “If I had known, I would have been there for you. I know your family isn’t nearby.”
Incredibly, Rachel’s throat began to tighten. Shannon was so sweet to have said that. “Thank you, Shannon. Honestly, I was kind of out of it for a while, then I slept the rest of the night. When they released me, I kind of had a buddy waiting. There was a guy that stopped, an off-duty cop named Dean West. He got there right after I crashed and helped me out, then he picked me up when they released me from the hospital.”
Shannon’s sharp hazel eyes turned considering and Rachel felt her cheeks flush. She was a decorated Marine, had flown in several deployments, but the look Shannon was giving her made her feel like a junior high school girl talking about her first crush.
A slow smile spread Shannon’s lips and she reached out to squeeze Rachel’s upper arm. “If you ever need to talk, I would love to have lunch sometime.”
Rachel blinked and looked at Shannon in fresh consideration, thinking about the dried up make-up under her counter. Some girly interaction might be nice. “Thank you. I may take you up on that.”
Grinning, Shannon nodded and returned to her desk.
Wilde rocked back in his chair and crossed his arms when she walked into his office, trying not to limp too badly, his contemplative pose for everything, it seemed. “You’re moving under your own power at least.”
Rachel nodded. “Yeah, hurts like hell but I’m up.”
“Well, if you think you need to go home early let me or one of the other partners know. We’re slow enough right now that your absence won’t cause too much inconvenience.”
“Thanks, Wilde. I appreciate that.”
Wilde gave her an assignment investigating a series of strange bank deposits in a client’s account; needed work but not physical.
When she left and went into the break room a few minutes later she had to show the guys the long line of stitches on her arm and the bruising that enveloped her calf. The ribbing that she got for her ‘boo-boos’ started up and she loved it.
* * *
DEAN CALLED her two nights later as she was settling into her recliner.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me tomorrow?”
Though he wasn’t here, she grinned like an idiot. “I would love to. Thank you for asking me.”
“Do you have any preferences?”
She thought for a moment. “You know, I actually don’t. I’m up for anything.”
“Okay, well, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Rachel stared at the phone in her hand long after he’d hung up.
* * *
IT HAD BEEN a long week but Saturday had finally arrived. Thoughts of Dean had plagued her in everything she did. Though their contact had been minimal, she was absorbed with wondering what he was doing. She knew cop work, but what did he do when he wasn’t on duty?
Unable to help herself she walked to the bedroom. The swelling had gone down on her temple and she’d already tugged out the stitches, which her doctor would probably yell at her about. The bruise on her leg had changed ten different colors, but it was slowly starting to ease. Another week and it would probably be gone completely.
The stitches in her arm, on the other hand, bugged the shit out of her. The skin beneath them was healing, creating the itch. She left them open to the air when she was home, but covered them with a bandage when she went out. She was on the verge of cutting them out as well but the laceration there had been deeper.
As she looked through her closet now, wondering what the hell to wear, she debated just pulling on one of her workout tank tops. They were super comfortable and practical. Definitely not date material though.
Rachel settled on a little frillier blouse in shades of blue. It had been a spur of the moment purchase a couple years ago, still had the tags on it, but it seemed okay for tonight. Maybe she’d talk to Shannon and see if they could go shopping sometime. Her wardrobe needed a serious overhaul.
The shirt chafed when she put it on and she remembered why she’d never worn it. Just for tonight she could put up with a little aggravation to look a little prettier for Dean.
But the longer she wore it the more determined she became to go shopping with Shannon.
SIX
Dean dialed Killian as he drove toward Rachel’s house. “Hey, I’m heading over to take Rachel out. Any suggestions on where to take her? I don’t want to go to the Mexican place dow
n the block from my apartment. She needs something nicer. A date place. I had planned to take her to a movie, but that’s so lame.”
Killian was quiet for several long seconds. “I’ve got the perfect place for you to take her. It’s not very big but it’s a classy joint. It’s called the Pink Cactus.”
Frowning, Dean jotted down the address Killian gave him. “Okay, sounds interesting.”
“Great little Tex Mex place, but a little higher end. You’ll love it!”
“Okay, thanks buddy. We’ll try it.”
Dean glanced at himself in the rearview mirror as he parked the truck. Damn, he’d missed a spot shaving. He ran his thumb over the patch of bristles under his chin. Hopefully she would be too enthralled with his good looks to notice the little spot. Yeah, right…
Rachel opened the door almost immediately, as if she’d been waiting for him to knock. Dean tried to control his surprise, but every time he saw her she was more gorgeous. The bruising on her head had faded and she’d done something to her hair to make it curl around her face. Wow, no ponytail. She was wearing the prettiest shirt he’d ever seen her in and he wondered if she’d gone shopping for tonight. Rachel seemed most comfortable in BDUs and a T-shirt top.
But her expression was the most interesting. There was trepidation there but also true excitement. Unable to help himself he grinned at her and leaned in for a kiss.
Dean would have settled for just a peck right now, but she surprised him by leaning into his touch, just a bit. Damn, she felt good.
One of his hands drifted up to cup her cheek and she let him brush his thumb over her skin. “You taste better than my dreams,” he admitted.
Rachel leaned back enough to give him a sharp look, but her eyes drifted back down to his lips as if she couldn’t help herself. There was no way he could say no to that invitation, so he pressed his mouth to hers again. Sharp arousal slid down through his gut and into his groin, shocking him.