Falling for the Cop

by Dana Nussio

  The Keaton women were unlucky in love. Both had taken a leap of faith—her mother with Zeke, and Natalie with Paul—and both had been burned. Just like her father, Paul had left the woman he was supposed to love when she needed him most. As if Natalie’s life hadn’t been dark enough in the aftermath of the accident, while her mother was still hospitalized, Paul left a note on her apartment door, saying he couldn’t be with someone who had so many problems. She didn’t need more proof than that. Love was too dangerous. Not worth the risk, no matter how tempted she was to let herself fall.

  “Yes, I did.” There was a faraway look in Elaine’s eyes as she stared out the window into the darkness, but then she turned back to Natalie. “I was a naive kid. I didn’t even know what love was...until I became a mother. So instead of wasting my time crying about my situation, I put all of my energy into building a career so I could support the two of us and make a home for you.”

  A lump formed in Natalie’s throat. Why had she held her own secret for so long, waiting for the right moment to spring it on Elaine? She’d wanted to hurt her mother, of course, just as her mother’s secrets had hurt her, but now it just seemed cruel. Even her frustration over being the center of her mother’s life seemed petty and selfish now. Still, there had been secrets between them for far too long. It was time for the whole truth to be told.

  “Did you ever hear from Zeke again?”

  Elaine shook her head. “Since I wasn’t going after him for child support, there wasn’t even a paternity suit. I assume he had some glamorous career in pro basketball and then went on to be a coach or something.”

  “That wasn’t exactly how it happened.”

  Though her mother had been staring down at her folded hands, she jerked her head to look up again.

  “What do you mean?”

  Natalie reached for the journal that she’d set aside and produced a dated photo of a handsome African-American man in a basketball uniform. The name Zeke Morris was printed at the bottom.

  Automatically, Elaine reached for the photo, staring at it for several seconds before looking up again. “How did you get this?”

  “After the accident, the hospital people told me I should look for the documents containing your advance directives and life insurance policy, just in case. I found your journal instead. Then I had more questions, so I just kept looking.” She hadn’t really answered her mother’s question, but she wasn’t ready. Wasn’t sure she could make herself say it.

  Though Elaine appeared to be trying to listen, her attention kept returning to the photo in her hands. It was probably a reflex that had her tracing her thumb over the photo’s glossy surface.

  “I don’t look a lot like him,” Natalie said to make her stop.

  “What?” Elaine asked, startled. She pulled her hand back. “Oh. I guess not. You look more like me.”

  Natalie leaned in for a closer look and then shook her head. “He doesn’t look much like that photo anymore, either.”

  She pulled a second photo from the journal, this one on printer paper instead of glossy photo stock. It was a portrait of a man in a business suit, his head shaved, a paunch causing his suit jacket to pull slightly. If not for the same wide-toothed grin, he might not have been recognizable at all.

  “Are you sure that’s him?” Elaine stared at the more recent photo, her expression bewildered as if she couldn’t reconcile that man with the one from her memories.

  “It’s him. He did play in Europe like he said he would, but his pro career was short-lived. Just two seasons in Italy, and much of that riding the bench. Then he retired and moved back to the States.”

  “Were you trying to find out what happened to him after that?”

  Natalie had to smile at the way her mother posed the question, trying not to sound too interested.

  “He’s a Realtor in Cleveland now and is married to, from what I can gather, his third wife.”

  Natalie paused as Elaine shifted and set the photo on a side table as if it was too painful to look at it now. He’d been married, after all. Just not to her, any of those three times. Would she say she didn’t want to hear any more? Would she refuse to talk about it now just as she’d hidden from it all of those years?

  But Elaine didn’t say anything. Instead, she tilted her head to meet her daughter’s gaze, folded her hands across her belly and waited.

  “From his bio on the real estate company’s website, he likes to work on his classic Mustangs and plays an above-average game of golf.”

  “How did you find out so much about him?”

  “You can find anything online. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t look him up yourself.”

  “I wanted to know, but I was afraid of what I would find.”

  Natalie nodded. She understood that dilemma because she’d lived it. “He also has three kids. Three sons.”

  The word tasted sour on her tongue. Of course, her father hadn’t known her gender when he’d left her mother. He’d only known that she existed. But it still hurt that he’d acknowledged those children. Welcomed them. Loved them. If a man who denied his own child was even capable of love.

  “They’re probably jerks just like their father,” Elaine ground out.

  Natalie couldn’t help grinning. “Hey, that’s my father you’re talking about. And, apparently, those are my half siblings.”

  “I’m sorry,” Elaine said for the second time.

  “That you called him a jerk?”

  “That I kept it from you and forced you to hunt down your own history. That you don’t have a better dad. He’s the one missing out on the chance to know his amazing daughter.”

  “He doesn’t seem that concerned.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Elaine lifted a brow and then turned and picked up the portrait that she’d set aside. She must not have noticed them before, but now she pointed to the words written in marker in the right bottom corner. It read, “All best, Zeke.”

  “Why do you have an autographed photo of your father?”

  “He must have thought I needed one. It’s what he sent to me when I wrote him after the accident.” At her mother’s narrowed gaze, she explained, “Just to let him know.”

  Elaine pressed her lips together, the pain obvious, even if hidden beneath callused layers she’d formed for her own survival.

  “What did you expect him to do, send a welcoming party?”

  Natalie shook her head. “I don’t know what I expected. That he would have some regrets for what he did to you. Or maybe he would recognize me now that I’m an adult and he wouldn’t have to pay child support.”

  She pointed to the photo in her mother’s hands. “But, hey, I got an autographed photo out of it.”

  “And I was even luckier. I got you.”

  The loving words only made Natalie feel lousy. Had her mother really been lucky to have a daughter like her? One who ambushed her over the discovery of her secrets? Who cared for her physical needs but resented her for it? Who’d betrayed her by becoming involved with a police officer when cops were the very reason she would never walk again? Who still wanted the cop and had let him befriend her mother when he would just leave them both the moment he was steady on his feet?

  She couldn’t let that happen. Her mother had already experienced enough hurt to last a lifetime. Now that she finally appeared ready to live in the world again, the last thing she needed was to experience more pain and another setback when her volunteer life coach grew bored of this project and moved on to fix someone else.

  Like before, Natalie would be left to pick up the broken pieces and restore her life and her mother’s to their comfortable norm. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to do that again. So to assure against that possibility, she had to back away from the man whom she wanted more than she’d ever wanted anything. And
she had to guide her mother to step back from her new best friend. It was for the best, she told herself. Some sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good, and for all the sacrifices her mother had made for her, she could do this one thing in return. If only she could convince her heart she was doing the right thing.

  * * *

  NATALIE CAUGHT HER mother yawning a week later as she pushed her through the power-assisted door and out into the movie theater’s patio area. As had become her habit lately, she immediately turned back to assist Shane through the doorway. And, as usual, he was already right behind her, requiring no help.

  “I told you that you were doing too much this week, Mom,” Natalie said, shaking her head. “You’re going to wear yourself out if you don’t watch it.”

  “I’m fine, you worrywart. It was just one yawn. Anyway, that movie was amazing.” Elaine lifted her hands for emphasis. “Don’t you just love movies about law enforcement?”

  “They do get your heart pumping,” Shane agreed. “I’ll give you that.”

  “Come on.” Natalie frowned. “That movie might have been the worst one I’ve seen in three years.”

  Shane grinned when she shot a look back at him. There was no way he could have liked that film with its awkward police dialogue about perps and dirtbags. Having missed that he hadn’t exactly said he’d enjoyed the movie, Elaine prattled on about justice and the “war on crime.”

  How could her mother say she loved that movie, anyway? In the high-speed-chase sequence near the end, the police cruiser had narrowly missed a mother pushing a baby in a stroller and a puppy on a leash. Had she forgotten what it was like to be on the other end of those squealing tires? But then her mother loved everything this week, particularly everything to do with a certain state trooper.

  “What did you think about it, Laura?” Natalie asked, looking for an ally.

  Laura, who’d finally agreed to come on one of their outings, shrugged. “It had interesting cinematography.”

  “That’s like saying a book had good margins,” Natalie said with a frown.

  “We definitely had the best seats in the house,” Shane chimed.

  “Yes, the view was perfect,” Elaine agreed.

  If they could call Natalie being sandwiched in the wheelchair section between the chairs, with Laura on the other side, then they were the best seats. Unfortunately, they were also too close for Natalie to avoid breathing in the spicy scent of Shane’s cologne and to miss when his tongue darted out to lick the popcorn salt off his lips.

  So much for her grand plan to put some distance between the Keaton women and one Shane Warner. Elaine had outmaneuvered Natalie on every attempt she made to avoid Shane this week, calling him before Natalie even got home from work and scheduling plans with him instead of allowing her to serve as coordinator.

  Shane hadn’t been much help, either, and had even been intentionally obtuse when she’d suggested that her mother needed more rest instead of more activities. Still, more often than not, she would find Elaine and her new best friend waiting in the living room for her when she arrived home from work. Usually, there wasn’t even a patrol car in the drive to give her a heads-up to expect him there—nothing to prepare her for the tingly reaction she had every time she came near him.

  Once they reached the lobby, Elaine spun around to face her. “I need to use the facilities before we go.”

  Natalie scanned the hall for the ladies’ room. “Let’s go.”

  “Why don’t you stay here?” her mother said. “Laura can take me.”

  Natalie watched after her, feeling summarily dismissed and highly aware that she and Shane were alone again—well, as alone as one could be surrounded by about thirty other moviegoers.

  “Hey, could you give me a hand with this?” he said from behind her.

  When she turned back to him, he held out his hat to her.

  Her gaze narrowed. Since when did he accept any kind of help from her, let alone with dressing? Now, undressing, he’d been especially grateful for that kind of assistance. When she reached down to take the hat from him, their fingers brushed in a move that didn’t appear accidental, and a shiver began at the tips of her fingers and stretched all the way to her baby toes inside her snow boots. She pretended to feel nothing. She’d done a lot of pretending lately.

  She pointed as his hands. “You should be wearing gloves.”

  “You’re not wearing yours,” he retorted, but his smile suggested he knew exactly what his touch did to her.

  He pointed to the mini marquee outside the theater they’d just exited.

  “Wow. That movie really was terrible.”

  “Why didn’t you say that before?”

  “It seemed so important to Elaine that I would like it. And, anyway, I never said I did. Only that it got the heart pumping.” Then he shrugged. “But it just might have been the company.”

  Natalie’s jaw tightened. “Why do you keep doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  How could she answer that when his very presence had all of her senses on high alert? When even when she wasn’t looking at him, which she admitted was rare, she could feel his gaze on her, heating her skin with its caress? “Why do you keep accepting my mother’s invitations?”

  “Because she keeps making them, and I don’t want to be rude.”

  Was he also trying not to be rude when he sat so close to her at the restaurant the other night that their knees kept brushing, or when she caught him staring every time she flipped her hair out from her coat? Every single time. Had he realized that she was trying to pull back from him and had decided to make it impossible?

  “How do I know you’re not the one inviting her on outings just to—” She stopped herself before saying he was trying to get to her, but he had to know what she’d meant.

  “I guess you don’t know.”

  “Then stop.”

  He shrugged. “But I like the company.”

  “You like our company? The guy who admitted to making the rounds with women wants to hang out with a former recluse and her overly tired daughter?” He’d already had her in his bed. She was no longer an enticing mystery to him, so why wasn’t he off in search of his next conquest?

  “I said I like the company. A lot.”

  “Is this because I’m not pining over you?” she asked when he didn’t answer the first question. “Is that why I still present a challenge to you? Is that part of the game?” Why was he making it so hard for her to shield herself—and her mother—from the hurt he would leave behind when he decided it wasn’t fun anymore?

  Where laughter lit his eyes before, Shane suddenly looked serious, hurt even.

  “If one of us is playing a game here, it’s not me.”

  Natalie’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips. What could she say to that?

  Her mother and Laura saved her from having to answer by finally returning from the ladies’ room. Natalie shot a glance at Shane, but this time he wasn’t looking.

  “I think we should go get coffee,” Elaine announced as if she’d just come up with a brilliant idea.

  “But it’s getting late, Mom. And we’ve been out every night this week. You haven’t been this active in a long time. You have to be exhausted. I know I am.”

  “It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” Elaine said with a pout.

  “I could drink coffee,” Shane said to her mother instead of her. “There’s that new place on Grand River.”

  Natalie turned back to her mother. “You definitely don’t need coffee this late. You know you have trouble sleeping.”

  “I’ll make it decaf,” Elaine said.

  She glanced at Laura, again looking for support, but the middle-aged caregiver only shrugged. “I like coffee.”

  “Come on,” her mother said. “I
t’s just coffee.”

  The grin won Natalie over. Her mother had smiled more this week than she had in the last year. That it had everything to do with Shane was as frustrating as it was undeniable. She couldn’t blame her mother. There weren’t many women who could deny Shane’s charms. But it was more than just his charm that Shane had invested in her mother. He’d been genuinely kind to her, acting as if he truly wanted to be her friend.

  As if Natalie hadn’t already found too many things attractive about him, the way he treated her mother made him nearly irresistible. That kindness, and her mother’s smiles, she would miss most of all when he moved on.

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. It’s three on one. We’ll get coffee. But we’re getting it to go.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE SYRUPY SWEETNESS of the specialty coffee drink still sat uncomfortably in Natalie’s stomach as she helped her mother pull the nightgown over her head an hour later. Somehow she’d managed to make it all the way to Shane’s house without any of them spilling coffee inside the van. She hadn’t been so lucky in her attempt to avoid his touch—and all the aftershocks that went with it—as she’d helped him inside. She could still feel the brush of his lips on her cheek from the kiss he’d given her while she was helping him out of his coat.

  A platonic thank-you kiss, not so different from the one he’d given her mother earlier in the evening, but Natalie had felt it everywhere and had craved more than she had any business wanting.

  “Tonight was fun,” her mother said as they shifted her body into the bed.

  “Yes, it was.” Natalie propped two pillows behind Elaine’s head that she would need to remove before lights out. “I just wish—” She stopped herself, realizing that the things she really desired would never be the ones she would mention now. Obligations were more important than desires, anyway.

  “What do you wish?” her mother prompted.

  “I know you’re enjoying going out lately, and I think that’s great. We should definitely continue doing that, though maybe once a week instead of every night.” She inserted a smile, both to make her words more palatable and to give herself a chance to form them. “But I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t invite Shane to go with us.”