Do You Take This Cop?

by Beth Andrews

  “Game doesn’t start for two hours.” Ethan helped himself to another cookie, then wiped his hand on the side of his khaki work pants. “And you’re not usually in a hurry to get away from a pretty woman. Usually they can’t wait to get away from you.”

  Nick set the bucket underneath the spigot and turned it on to drain the remaining water from the heater. “The only reason I’m doing this is because Brit nagged me into it.”

  “Bullshit,” Ethan said cheerfully. “You’re interested in Ms. Lewis. What’s the matter? She have enough sense not to be interested back?”

  “I wonder,” Nick said thoughtfully, tapping a wrench against his palm, “what Lauren would say if she discovered what really happened the night of your bachelor party.”

  Ethan’s smirk faded. “That’s cold, man. She can’t ever find out about that.”

  Nick feigned a puzzled expression. “No? Huh.”

  “I was drunk.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep my mouth shut about her dog’s Mohawk—and who really held the clippers—and you can keep your mouth shut about me and Faith Lewis.”

  Eating another cookie, Ethan shrugged belligerently, which Nick took as a yes. Nick slapped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s a sad state of affairs when a man is afraid of his one-hundred-and-ten-pound wife.”

  Ethan snorted. “About as sad as a man putting in a new water heater for a woman who’s clearly not interested.”

  Damn. No wonder his mother always warned him not to gloat.

  Once the water stopped draining, Nick took the bucket upstairs. Opening the kitchen door that led out into Faith’s tiny backyard, he was met by the loud rumble of a lawn mower shaking the hell out of Austin as he cut the grass. Squinting against the sunlight, Nick crossed over to the side of Faith’s one-stall garage, where she knelt weeding a flower bed.

  Like the inside of her house, the small garden was a riot of colors. White, yellows, pinks and blues filled the base, but the centerpiece was a bright purple clematis winding its way up the sides and around the rungs of an old wooden ladder leaning against the wall.

  She stood and met him by the edge of the garage. “Everything going all right?” she asked over the sound of the mower.

  “Fine.” He set the bucket at her feet. “We had to drain the heater and I thought you could use this to water your flowers.”

  She wore dark sunglasses, so he couldn’t see her expression. “That’s very…environmentally sound of you.”

  “I’m all about reducing, reusing and recycling,” he said soberly.

  “Really?” She took off her dirt-encrusted garden gloves, held them in one hand while trying to untangle hair caught in her sunglasses with the other. “I never would’ve guessed you were so green-minded.”

  “Here,” he said, edging closer, “let me help.”

  She stiffened as he gently extricated her hair from the small hinge and tucked the silky strands behind her ear. He let his hand drop and curled his fingers into his palm.

  “I would try and tell you that Al Gore has always been a personal hero of mine,” he continued, trying to put her back at ease—if she ever was at ease with him, “but the truth is, I promised my nephew Isaac I’d do my best to save the planet.”

  Acting as if it took her entire concentration, she stepped back and brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans. “Sounds like a pretty big job for one man.”

  “Isaac’s five. He pretty much thinks that since I’m a police officer, I’m something of a superhero.”

  And why that made her wince, he had no idea.

  “Every little bit helps. And since we’re not due to get rain for a few days, this—” she tapped the bucket with the toe of her worn sneakers “—will come in handy. Thank you.”

  “That kills you, doesn’t it?”

  She swallowed. “Wha…what does?”

  “The few times you’ve thanked me, it’s as if someone’s dragging the words out of your mouth.”

  “Don’t be silly. I appreciate you helping me like this.” She raised her head, and though he couldn’t see past her dark lenses, he sensed she was looking him dead in the eye. “Truly.”

  He also sensed she was lying through her teeth.

  “I’d better get back,” he said, not wanting to push her too far. He nodded toward a very sweaty, red-faced Austin. “It’ll take a while for the water to warm up in the tank, but I don’t think Austin will mind rinsing off under the hose today.”

  “He’ll love it. Why little boys can stand under the freezing spray from a hose for hours, but hate the confines of a tub or shower, I’ll never know.”

  Nick grinned. “The hose is more of an adventure. And if there’s one thing males of all ages can’t get enough of, it’s an adventure.”

  Another thing they couldn’t get enough of was a challenge. At least Nick couldn’t resist one. And at the moment, his biggest challenge was figuring out the woman in front of him.

  “We should be finished and out of your hair in no time,” he said before walking back into the house.

  No, he wasn’t interested in Faith, at least not the way Ethan accused him of. But Nick was curious. Back inside the house, he watched Faith through the kitchen window. She crouched and began yanking weeds, tossing them into a small pile. He couldn’t quite figure her out, but he aimed to try.

  She obviously loved bright colors, so why did she dress in such muted tones? Add that to her jumpiness around him, her obviously not wanting him alone with Austin, and the kid’s rush to get away from him yesterday and Nick couldn’t help but think he’d seen this situation many times before.

  He’d been called to his fair share of domestic disputes, and each one of them had made his stomach turn. He’d also seen the results of that abuse. How the victims blamed themselves for the violence. And believed they could never get away from their abuser. Was that what made Faith and Austin so secretive? Had some bastard laid his hand on them?

  Though Faith showed signs indicating she might have been abused, Nick wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. He needed more evidence to prove his instincts were right. He wanted to help them. And there was only one way he’d be able to do that.

  He needed to earn their trust.

  LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Nick and Ethan had her new water heater installed and the old one in the back of Ethan’s pickup. Standing in her freshly mowed backyard, Faith handed Ethan an envelope with the money she owed him.

  “I really can’t thank you enough for coming today,” she said, her voice steady and almost pleasant. She even added a smile. After Nick’s remark about how strained she sounded whenever she thanked someone, she realized she needed to shore up her acting skills.“Glad I could help out,” Ethan said. He was a big man, as fair as Nick was dark, with white-blond hair and pale blue eyes. He seemed harmless.

  Nick, on the other hand, was a whole other story.

  Last night as she’d tucked Austin into bed, he’d admitted he’d inadvertently told Nick they’d once lived in Serenity Springs. That, combined with her nervousness around Nick getting the better of her, convinced her she needed to be friendlier. More open and honest. To show Nick she had nothing to hide.

  Even if it was all a lie.

  “I was…” She cleared her throat. “I was hoping you would allow me to treat you both to dinner.”

  “Excuse me?” Nick asked.

  “Now I don’t have to go the rest of the week without hot water, not to mention the money I was able to save. I just wanted to thank you. Both.”

  Nick searched her face. “Let me get this straight. You’re volunteering to spend more time with me?”

  She ground her back teeth together. He just couldn’t make this easy, could he? “Yes. I thought the four of us could go to Nero’s for pizza.”

  Ethan glanced from one to the other. “I’m afraid Nick’s in a hurry to get home. Something about a baseball game.”

  “That game’s not on until tomorrow,” he countered.

  Eth
an’s pale eyebrows shot up. “It’s not?”

  “Nope. I’d love to have pizza with you and Austin.”

  “I must’ve heard wrong then,” Ethan said. “And I’d be happy to join—”

  “But he can’t,” Nick interjected smoothly.

  “I can’t?”

  “He needs to get home to watch his kids,” Nick explained. “Tonight’s Lauren’s yoga class at the Y.”

  “It’s Wednesday,” Ethan pointed out. “Yoga is on Tue—”

  “Mohawk.”

  Faith frowned. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Nick seemed as innocent as a newborn. She didn’t buy it for a moment. “I just don’t want him to be late.” He lowered his voice as if Ethan wasn’t right there to hear him. “His wife holds grudges when she’s mad. One time she made him sleep on the couch for… How long was it?” he asked his friend. “A week?”

  “Ten days,” Ethan grumbled.

  “I’d hate for that to happen again,” Nick said, giving his friend a significant look.

  “Me, too. Which is why,” Ethan said to Faith, “I can’t accept your dinner invitation.”

  “Oh.” Crap. There went her third-party buffer. “Maybe another time,” she said lamely.

  “Sure thing. Talk to you later, Nick.”

  Faith watched Ethan climb into his truck and drive away. Damn. What was she going to do now?

  Shoving her sunglasses on top of her head, she faced him. “Since Ethan had to leave, why don’t we…postpone that dinner? I’m sure you’re anxious to get home.”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Still,” she said, not caring if she sounded desperate, “it’s getting late—”

  “It’s only seven-twenty.”

  “But we both have to work tomorrow,” she stated.

  “Faith, are you trying to renege on your dinner invitation?”

  “Of course not,” she sputtered. “That would be rude.”

  “And you’re never rude, are you?”

  That’s right. She’d been a tramp, a liar and a horrible mother who made her precious baby feel guilty if he so much as breathed a word of truth to anyone. She’d broken the law, didn’t trust a living soul and was afraid in her zeal to keep Austin safe, she was somehow doing more harm than good. But at least she was always polite.

  Nick looked past her and said, “If you and Austin don’t want to go to Nero’s—”

  “We’re going to Nero’s?” Austin asked as he burst out of the house, the back door slamming behind him. “When? Now?”

  Faith sighed and smoothed her son’s wet hair back from his forehead. As Nick had predicted, he’d been more than happy to strip down to his shorts and rinse off outside with the hose. He’d even talked her into letting him wash his hair, shrieking and laughing the entire time he’d doused it with the cold spray.

  “I hope you didn’t leave your wet clothes and towel on the floor,” she said.

  “I hung them over the shower rod.” He shook her arm. “Are we really going to Nero’s?”

  “Yeah. We really are.”

  Austin gave a whoop and she winced.

  “Well, now that we have the attention of everyone in town, and out at the marina, we’d better get going.” The sooner they left, the sooner they could get back. “Why don’t we meet you there?” she asked Nick. Once she sent him on his way, she might be able to fake car trouble. Or a sudden, violent illness. Sure, Austin would be disappointed but—

  “It’s a nice night,” Nick said. “You two up for a walk?”

  Her son’s eyes widened. “Can we, Mom? Or I could ride my bike?”

  And there was no way she could say no. Besides, maybe having dinner with Nick wouldn’t be so bad. She’d just have to make certain she worked it to her advantage.

  “Sure. I need to get my purse,” she called after Austin as he took off toward the garage. “Wait for us out front and stay off the road until I get there.”

  With him out of sight, she grabbed Nick’s wrist and dragged him inside the house.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked when they were by the sink.

  “That depends.” His skin was warm under her fingers. She snatched her hand away. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  “Do what on purpose?”

  “Did you want him to overhear us? Did you think I’d give in simply because my son wanted pizza?”

  “To take your questions in order—yes. And I’d hoped.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why would you do something like that? Didn’t we already discuss you not interfering with my business?”

  “But this wasn’t just your business, it was mine, too. You were trying to get out of going to dinner—”

  “I wasn’t trying to get out of anything,” she insisted, her cheeks burning. “I just thought you’d prefer to go another night.”

  “—but once a pretty woman offers to feed a single guy, he’d be crazy to let that opportunity pass. You see, men have certain basic…needs. So the reason I made it as difficult as possible for you to back out of dinner is pretty simple.”

  He leaned forward. Her heart sped as she pressed back until the edge of the counter dug into her spine. But even though he was close, he didn’t touch her. He just whispered, “I’m hungry.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAD TO make the most of a lousy situation.

  And that’s exactly what she’d do, Faith resolved as she and Nick walked down her quiet street toward town. After all, it was a lovely summer evening, warm with a light breeze that brought in the salty scent of the ocean. They’d gone two blocks and so far Nick had kept the conversation off personal subjects. Instead they’d discussed the weather and the new specialty candy shop going in over on Foster Drive.Boring, yes. But at least he wasn’t interrogating her.

  Austin zipped past them, legs pumping furiously on the pedals of the bike she’d picked up for him at a garage sale a few weeks ago. He rode ahead, stopped to look for traffic, then made a U-turn and rode back to them—a process he’d repeated numerous times since they’d left the house. His face was flushed, his helmet low on his forehead and his knuckles white where he gripped the handlebars. Best of all, he was smiling. And that was something she never tired of seeing.

  It was also something that didn’t happen very often lately. And while she’d like to blame it on his age and hormones, she couldn’t. It was her fault. For forcing him to lie, to keep their secrets. But she didn’t know what else to do. How else to live.

  A car horn sounded and both she and Nick waved at one of her customers. Faith tugged at the hem of her wrinkled shirt. Shoot. She should’ve changed. Or at least brushed her hair. As a hairdresser, she was a walking billboard for her craft.

  Too bad at the moment she was a disheveled mess.

  But she’d been so flustered after Nick’s comment about being hungry, at his nearness, she couldn’t get out of her house fast enough.

  She glanced surreptitiously at him. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, softening the sharp lines of his profile. She wished he looked more like a police officer tonight and less…normal. Albeit normal in an above average sense. But she had to remember he was a cop.

  They came to her favorite house on the street, a gorgeous blue Victorian with white accents, dark gray trim, multiple rooflines and a large horseshoe-shaped window in the front. A man with wiry salt-and-pepper hair badly in need of a new style sat in a white wicker rocking chair on the front porch, reading a paperback.

  “Evening, Mr. Close,” Nick called, causing the man to look up from his book. “Nice weather we’re having.”

  Mr. Close abruptly stopped rocking. Scowling, he got to his feet and muttered something under his breath. He then went inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Faith’s jaw dropped. “Did he call you a bloody wanker?”

  “Ayup,” Nick said, sounding like an old-time Mainer. “Mr. Close is originally from England. He’s, uh…holding a bit of a grudge against
me.”

  Though interested—way more than she should be—she wouldn’t ask. She didn’t want Nick to get the idea that she was curious about him. Yes, her role required her to be friendly, but only to a point. It wasn’t as if she was up for an Academy Award.

  “Mom! Watch,” Austin cried as he came up behind them. “I can do a wheelie.” He pedaled past. His front tire barely left the ground before it fell back to earth again, but her heart lodged itself in her throat. He braked. “Did you see?”

  “Yes, I saw,” she said, injecting what she hoped was the proper amount of enthusiasm. Wasn’t nine too young to be trying daredevil tricks? “That’s great.”

  “Looking good, bud,” Nick said. “Try pulling back when you lift the handlebars. But be ready to put your feet down if you lose your balance.”

  “Okay.” And he was off to try again.

  “Thank you,” Faith said drily. “Maybe next you could teach him how to build a ramp so he can practice jumping over tractor trailers.”

  “Nah. He’d need a motorcycle for that. Although if he got enough speed up, he might make it over a small car.”

  “That’s like music to a mother’s ears.” She knew better, but she couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “Is that what you did to Mr. Close? Taught his son how to jump vehicles?”

  “Mr. Close doesn’t have a son. Just a daughter. Delia.”

  “Judging from the reverence in your voice and the smile on your face, I’m guessing Delia was quite pretty?”

  “Gorgeous. Plus she had this sexy accent…” He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a lady with an accent.”

  Thank God Faith had lost her own Southern accent years ago. “Delia’s dad had a problem with your interest in her?”

  “Not just me. All the guys in school were after her, but her dad was so strict she couldn’t date until she was eighteen.” Nick shot Faith a grin. “I didn’t want to wait. So my sisters told me about some scene in a movie they loved where a guy serenades a girl with his boom box outside her bedroom window.”

  They stopped at the curb, checked for traffic, then crossed onto Main Street. “No more practice wheelies,” Faith told Austin.