Falling for the P.I.

by Victoria James

  He shook his head. “Not a friend, just a random woman.”

  Kate swallowed hard. He was making it clear that he wanted her. She eyed her whiskey. “Excuse me for a second,” she said, taking a long drink and squeezing her eyes shut. She shouldn’t have agreed to this. This guy just turned down a gorgeous woman who had draped herself on him, and was now here, with her. The only reason Kate was agreeing to this was…because of pride? To prove that she could do this? Or was it him, something about this guy that had propelled her to cross the floor and sit at the bar?

  “I’ll try not to take that personally,” he said.

  “Belcher liked that I could down a whiskey,” she said into her glass.

  He laughed, low and throaty, and Kate found herself smiling along with him. “Well, maybe we should call Belcher back here?”

  “Don’t you dare,” Kate said, placing her empty glass on the counter and meeting his gaze. “But maybe you should reconsider all this. I mean, I still see your friend over there. She’s staring at us. I’m sure if you walked up to her and—”

  “What if I told you that there’s something about you, besides you being unbelievably gorgeous? What if I told you I never dance? Ever. But for some reason, I feel compelled to dance with you.” Gone was any trace of laughter, teasing.

  Kate took a deep breath and took in the masculine beauty of the first man who truly made her want to forget everything and act like someone who could enjoy the moment, enjoy the affection of a man who commanded the attention of every woman in the room, someone who could revel in another’s strength.

  “I’m Matt,” he said, extending his hand and standing. Kate shook it. It was large, warm, and strong as it gripped hers. The sensation of his hand around hers encompassed everything she’d been trying to avoid—sensuality, desire, heat. When she made the mistake of looking into his eyes, his hand still locked onto hers, she read the same emotion glittering in the striking blue depths of his. She slid her hand free and looked away. It was impossible to feel that.

  “Kate,” she whispered.

  “Come on, Kate,” he said, tilting his chin in the direction of the packed dance floor.

  Kate opened her mouth and then shut it. What was she doing? She glanced around the bar quickly. “It’s just a dance,” he said, grasping her hand and giving it a gentle tug. She stood next to him, feeling small next to his towering height, but she didn’t have time to react, because he was already walking, leading her though the crowd to a secluded corner, as the music shifted to a slow, sultry ballad, and then she was being drawn into his arms. All breath was stolen as she came into contact with the strong wall of Matt’s chest, the clean, masculine scent of his cologne teasing her with an attraction she knew she wouldn’t pursue. His large hand wrapped around one of hers, holding it against his chest, the other wrapping around her waist. The band’s smooth sound lulled her into a cocoon where this handsome stranger meant something more than a simple Friday-night pickup.

  His arms were wrapped around her, and she felt cherished, desired, as they moved in unison. Her head rested against the lower part of his shoulder, and his lips grazed the top of her head, his hand moving up and down her back. They danced like that for a few moments, until his warm hand found the nape of her neck, slowly, gently pulling her head back to look at him. Her mouth opened involuntarily as she looked from his eyes to the perfect curve of his lips.

  Motion at the side door as a few uniformed police officers walked into the bar caught her attention. She tried to look normal, she tried to breathe, but between the overwhelming sensations suffocating her and the automatic reaction she had to seeing policemen, she couldn’t find a spare breath.

  Matt pulled back slightly, looking down at her and then following her gaze. “My friends are here,” he murmured, looking into her eyes and then down at her lips. But the moment was slipping for her, reality taking the place of the fairytale as his words registered.

  “You’re a cop?” she whispered, slipping her hand out of his.

  He frowned down at her as they both stood still. “Not anymore. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’ve never been a fan of the uniform,” she whispered, backing up a step, hoping the crowd on the dance floor would swallow her. She was panicking and she couldn’t help it.

  His eyes wandered over her and, despite everything, her body felt a wave of desire in response to the obvious praise in his stare. “Some of the best men and women I know are police officers.”

  Kate crossed her arms in front of her, chilled. “I wish I could say the same, but I can’t. I should really get back to my table,” she said, taking another step into the crowded dance floor. “All that food and everything,” she said, her voice trailing off.

  Matt took a step toward her. “There are two types of people who hate cops. Those who have something to hide and are running from the law, or those who’ve been hurt by the power of that uniform.” He wiped his hand across his mouth roughly, his voice low and harsh. “And I hope to God, sweetheart, that neither of those are your reasons.”

  Emotion swelled in her heart briefly as his words, his expression, touched her, enough that she contemplated staying, until another man walked in the bar. Every tiny hair on the back of her neck stood. She couldn’t see the man’s face, just the back of his head. It couldn’t be. She looked back at Matt who was staring at her, a frown pinching his dark brows together. Panic ensnared her, holding her prisoner. She looked back at the crowd and couldn’t find the man again. She stood motionless as her eyes scanned the people, looking for the brown hair, the hunched shoulders…someone bumped into her from behind, jostling her forward. Matt’s hands flew to her arms to steady her, but the comfort of his touch was gone.

  If Derek Stinson was in this pub, she wasn’t safe.

  “I’ve got to go,” she whispered, hearing a few loud voices yell out Matt’s name. She weaved her way through the crowd, careful to sidestep the rowdy dancers as the loud, fast-tempo music pounded in her ears. Her eyes were on the side door. She needed to get outside. She’d text Cara and Alex. She needed to get away from the man who looked eerily similar to Derek, the monster that had destroyed her world.

  Chapter Two

  Katie, remember, always, how much I love you and how much Sara loves you. We’re always together. Even when we’re apart we’re together, always. You are my darling, strong girl, and I know you’re invincible. Remember that. Invincible.

  Kate sat upright in bed, taking in huge gulps of air, like a person who just surfaced from the water, on the verge of drowning, the exact opposite of an invincible person. She hadn’t had that dream in ages, and she knew exactly why she had the dream two nights in a row—Derek, or the man that had reminded her of Derek.

  She threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed, glancing at the red glowing numbers on her alarm clock. 4:38 a.m. She quietly rifled through her drawer and pulled out her running gear, dressing in the dark. There was only one way to deal with the dream and deal with being up this early—a run. After grabbing the bear spray she kept on the top shelf of her closet, she tiptoed down the stairs, stopping for her raincoat and running shoes. Waterproof running gear was essential this time of year.

  Minutes later she was well on her way into the core of Still Harbor. She didn’t run with music in her ears because today there were certain voices she wanted to cling to. Right after waking, she could recall the precise pitch of her mother’s voice, but she knew the inevitable fading would happen, and it would all seem like a distant memory. This morning she wanted to hold on to the sound of her mother, like the little girl who clung to her dress when facing a stranger. This morning, she wanted to feel the warmth of her mother’s voice a little bit longer.

  She ran harder, faster, the splash of puddles welcome, the heavy rain welcome as the memories grew more vivid and, for the briefest of moments, their sweet voices were louder than the rain, more real than the cold water soaking her feet. She ran, and she didn’t know anymore if she
was running toward the memories or away from the other memories slowly creeping through.

  She was almost at the pier, the memories basically gone. She enjoyed finishing up her run at the pier, with a final loop around the lighthouse, and then a slow cooldown and walk home. It was still dark out, dawn a good half hour away. Her hood kept her warm, the rain dripping off the front, and she could feel the outline of the bear spray in her pocket.

  She increased her pace, needing the burn in her lungs to replace the ache in her heart. She was running downhill, almost at the pier, needing to see the dawn, the sunrise over the lake, needing to watch where she was going. Bam.

  She collided almost head-on with a person and would have fallen into a massive puddle if large hands hadn’t gripped her. She couldn’t even scream because she was breathing so hard.

  “This is what I call fate.”

  Kate’s stomach dropped, then proceeded to flip repeatedly at the sound of that unmistakable voice. It couldn’t be. She looked up the hard wall of a chest that was currently sporting a navy hooded jacket and then up into the blue eyes she had fallen asleep thinking about. Matt. She took a deep breath and knew part of her breathing difficulties were due to the man in front of her. “Seriously?” She was about to shrug off his hands, but he’d already dropped them the moment she’d tensed.

  He was smiling down at her. “Didn’t think I’d see you again. You can’t leave a guy standing alone on the dance floor, you know. Bad for the male ego.”

  She found herself smiling, but then she remembered why she’d left him on the dance floor, so she stopped. “I had to go.”

  He gave a slow nod, like he knew she was lying. “Want some company to finish your run?”

  She shook her head. “I was just about done anyway.”

  “Ah, you’re scared you can’t keep up with me,” he said, still smiling. He was even better looking than the other night. He hadn’t shaved and the hoodie framed his face in a way that highlighted his bone structure. Ugh.

  “I can keep up with you, even though you have the advantage of being taller, but I’m sure I could finish you off.”

  He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. She had never run into him before, and now all of a sudden he was everywhere? She folded her arms under her breasts and narrowed her eyes. He had said he was a cop.

  He held up his hands. “I know what you’re thinking and I promise this is totally a coincidence. I don’t even know your last name.”

  She made no attempt to give it to him. “Fine, I’ll take your word that this is a coincidence. Besides, I’m fully equipped to deal with creeps.” She slipped her fingers into her pocket and clutched the bottle.

  This time his smile dipped. He even moved back a step and she was actually disappointed. He recovered quickly from her rebuff and glanced at the bulging pocket.

  “Bear spray,” she said with a shrug. She forced herself to sound calmer, friendlier.

  He gave a nod. “Always good to be prepared.”

  “Of course, it’s a good thing it’s not mace or you’d probably have to arrest me or something for having an illegal substance.” Hmm, she needed to work on her calmer, friendlier tactic. She wasn’t sounding much of either.

  His lips twitched and he coughed. “I’m not a cop anymore.”

  She nodded, pulling her hand out of her pocket. His laugh was entirely too appealing. “So, anyway, I should probably get back home. Morning rush and all that,” she said, taking a step back.

  He gave her a short nod. The rain had slowed to a misty drizzle. Dawn had broken, but it was barely noticeable with the gray sky and thin fog swirling around them. “See you, Kate.”

  She backed up a step, into a garbage can. He had the good manners to look down, probably to hide his smile.

  She turned around and forced her legs into a jog. She wasn’t going to turn around and look at him, because she knew he’d be looking at her, and she knew how good he’d be looking, too. What she should be more concerned about was why the juvenile girl inside her was disappointed he hadn’t made any further attempts at getting her number. Well, of course he wouldn’t. She hadn’t been friendly. She’d been standoffish and bragging about her blinding self-defence spray. She was great at picking up guys. A feeling of emptiness filled her when she rounded the corner onto the main road that would take her home. It couldn’t be emptiness because of him, she didn’t even know him. No, it was because all the voices and images from her dream had now vanished.

  “Come on, funny bunnies, finish up your breakfast, or you’ll all be late for school,” Kate said to the table of six-year -olds two hours later. Cassy and Beth giggled, spooning the cereal into their mouths faster. Her daughter, Janie, smiled at her, her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose and almost landing in the bowl of cereal.

  “Here, sweetie,” Kate said, her heart squeezing when she adjusted the glasses. There were times with her daughter that made her remember moments from her childhood that she worked so hard to forget, images of people who had the power to bring her to her knees if she let them, memories from before she met Cara and Alex. Before she had even entered foster care, back when she had a real family: a mother, a sister, and a stepfather. The memory of her little sister, so similar to when Janie was younger, was achingly sweet. And all the afternoons they would spend together, how she’d call out “Katie!” when Kate would come home from school. Her brown eyes would light up the same way Janie’s did whenever they’d play together, or go on the afternoon walks through the woods their mother would take them on, collecting pine cones and leaves in the autumn.

  Kate stood up from the breakfast table, her chair scraping against the hardwood. She gave each of them a kiss on the head before walking over to the sink. She was in a good place. They all were. They were all safe.

  After her run this morning, and her visit with Matt, she had been able to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely a decent guy. And as for Derek…well, it couldn’t have been Derek at the bar. Derek was from another life. They had never run into each other. She hadn’t seen that man in almost fifteen years. What were the odds she’d see him in Still Harbor when she was dancing with the most gorgeous, compelling man she’d ever met? Matt should be filed away as another memory. The problem was that Kate could still hear the low timbre of his voice, see the exact shade of his eyes, and smell the scent of his body. It was nuts, crazy, to feel something for a man she barely knew. She didn’t feel anything, for any guy. In fact, it had been a policy that had served her well for many years. So why now, why this guy? Stop the daydreaming and get back to reality.

  “When’s the pumpkin parade, Auntie Kate?” Beth asked, eager green eyes staring at her.

  Kate smiled, glad for the interruption. See, this was her reality, the one she wanted, filled with family and pumpkins. No guys, no matter how good they looked with early-morning scruff and hoodies. “At the end of the month, honey. The weekend before Halloween.”

  “And we get to pick our own pumpkins?” Cassandra asked.

  Kate nodded, looking at Janie. Janie hung onto their every word and Kate could tell she was trying to keep pace with the conversation. “Yes, we’ll all go to the pumpkin patch and you can each pick out whichever pumpkin you want. Then we’ll bring them home, carve them up, and enter them in the contest,” Kate said, grabbing their lunches from the refrigerator. She lined up the Disney Princess, Hello Kitty, and Frozen lunch bags on the stone counter.

  “Coooool,” Cassandra yelled. “I’m going to make a spooky pumpkin,” she said, making a scary face at Beth and Janie who laughed at her antics. Cassy was the most theatrical of the three. Kate had often marvelled at the similarities between Alex and her adopted daughter, Cassandra.

  “I’m going to make a crazy one, with giant eyeballs!” Beth, who was Cara’s adopted daughter, said, pulling down on the skin around her eyes and almost knocking over her bowl of cereal, which they all thought was absolutely hilarious.

  “Okay, girls, let’s try and calm d
own before you spill all your breakfast,” Kate said, trying to keep a straight face. “What about you, Janie? What kind of pumpkin are you going to carve?”

  Janie’s brow furrowed and she looked at Kate. “Happy one,” she said, finally, smiling at all of them. Her sisters smiled back at her and then went back to the Pumpkinfest discussion.

  She loved how close the girls were, how Cassy and Beth knew Janie was different and treated her as though she was just like them. Kate glanced at the vintage red clock above the doorway and marched out into the hall. It was her job to get the girls to school in the morning and she had this routine down to the wire, no time for fantasies. She dropped each of the lunch bags into the appropriate backpacks and placed them on the rustic, black antique bench at the front door.

  “Girls, five minutes and we’re outta here, okay?” she called from the foyer. She slipped on her black trench and zipped up her laptop bag.

  “I’ve got three minutes,” Cara said, racing down the carpeted staircase.

  “Your coffee is in the travel mug on the counter,” Kate said to her sister’s retreating figure. Cara was never on time. She was a second grade teacher in the neighboring small town.

  “Thanks,” she called out from the kitchen. Kate gave herself a once-over in the front hall mirror, smiling as she heard Cara greet the girls and offer a round of tickles. Some mornings, Kate still struggled to convince herself that this had all happened. When they all met, in their early teens at the group home, they’d bonded instantly, but they’d each had to move on to different homes and, on her darkest days, Kate had wondered if they’d ever meet again. Well, they had made it, they had found their way together again and accomplished what they dreamed of back when they were girls. They were successful, and they had all adopted their own girls, creating their own family.

  “Girls, let’s go,” Kate called out as Cara bounded out of the kitchen, a croissant in her mouth, coffee mug in one hand and briefcase in the other. She placed her briefcase on the ground and pulled the pastry out of her mouth.