“I can drive her over now. The manager needs to lock up and she’ll meet us at the station so we can all make a formal statement,” Cara concluded, since she was off duty when the incident occurred.
“She okay?” Sam tipped his head in Daniella’s direction.
Cara nodded. “She is. I just hope she stays that way.” She’d seen too many women, her own mother included, back down and change their minds once faced with the reality of testifying and pressing charges.
“And you? Okay?” Sam eyed her critically, as he always did after any kind of incident.
“Just another day at the office,” she said with a grin.
Sam shook his head. “Smart-ass,” he muttered. “See you at the station.”
Cara spent the rest of the night filling out forms and making sure Daniella was settled. Bev insisted that Daniella go home with her, and Daniella agreed. As long as she was somewhere she felt safe, there was no risk of her returning to the apartment she shared with Bob. For now, the bastard was in jail, but after his arraignment in the morning, he might get out on bail. And Daniella would have to make some smart and hopefully permanent decisions.
Sunday dawned cold and sunny after the snowstorm the night before. Mike had spent all day yesterday at the station catching up on endless paperwork, which was still piled high on his desk, and he’d met with the tech guy to go over the potential computerization of files. Last night he’d spent at Ethan’s playing poker with guys they’d gone to school with, where Mike had won a decent amount of cash and caught up with old friends. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday night, short of seeing Cara and spending the night in her bed.
He hadn’t seen her much since their return from Vegas, their schedules keeping them apart. He’d been busy, but he thought about her often. Although he was getting used to it, stranger still was that he missed having her around—in his bathroom, sharing drawers, and in his space. There was never a time when being apart from a woman bothered him. He’d even invited her to the family dinner tonight, but she’d begged off, claiming she was exhausted. Considering he’d woken her when he called this morning at eleven, he didn’t doubt it.
At his parents’, Mike handled chores his father used to do himself, like shoveling the walk clear of snow and de-icing the driveway. Sam and Erin pitched in to do their parts as well. Between the three of them, Mike hoped they kept Ella and Simon’s lives running as smoothly as possible until this nightmare ended.
No wonder people whispered the word cancer. The damned disease took a toll on everyone within loving distance of the person afflicted. But Simon appeared stronger today and hadn’t been napping when Mike arrived.
Mike kicked the snow off his boots and left them along with his coat and gloves in the laundry room to dry. Dinner was their normal affair, joking with each other, and for the first time in ages, even Simon participated, leaving Mike with a feeling of warmth about his family he hadn’t experienced in too long—if ever. Maybe meeting Rex had given him a newfound appreciation for all he had here in Serendipity.
“Where’s Cara tonight?” Mike’s mother asked over dessert.
Mike paused, his spoon full of his mother’s delicious bread pudding midway to his mouth. “Home. She said she’s exhausted and asked me to send her apologies.”
“Which of course you forgot to do,” Erin teased him. “I don’t blame her for being tired after last night’s excitement.”
“Excitement?” Suddenly uneasy, Mike laid his spoon down on his plate.
“Someone hasn’t checked the blotter today,” his father said, laughing as he glanced at Mike. “I can relate. There were Sundays I didn’t want to know what was happening in town. I figured if the world was falling apart, someone would let me know. That’s what deputy chiefs are for.”
“I was the assistant D.A. on call last night,” Erin said.
Mike’s mouth grew dry. “What happened?” he asked his brother, who he knew had been on duty.
“Cara didn’t tell you?” Sam asked.
Mike shook his head.
“Shit,” Sam muttered. “I thought you knew or I would’ve said something sooner.”
“Tell me now,” Mike said.
Sam cleared his throat. “We got a call about a disturbance at the McDonald’s off Route 80. Manager said a drunk guy was threatening one of her workers. Ted Shaeffer was with me. We arrived to find the perp with his arm around his girlfriend’s throat and Cara holding a gun on him.”
Mike’s stomach churned, his gut firing on all cylinders. Cara wasn’t on duty last night, but if she was involved in something, there was only one other person who could’ve been there too.
“Was the woman’s name Daniella?” Mike asked.
Sam nodded. “Cara was off duty when she got a call. She met Daniella at McDonald’s and her boyfriend showed up. Abusive asshole,” Sam added, and Ella didn’t reprimand him for his choice of words. “We defused the situation without bloodshed.”
Mike nodded, not surprised. He hadn’t been worried about Cara handling herself or being in a difficult situation. Hell, he’d trust her to have his back any time. What did shock him was the fact that she’d heard from Daniella and yet she hadn’t called him last night and she hadn’t mentioned it this morning.
“Who is this Daniella?” Simon asked.
“A young woman who Cara took under her wing at Havensbridge. She left a couple of weeks ago and nobody’s heard from her since. I knew how worried Cara was, so I spent some time calling a couple of neighboring area hospitals. Just in case,” Mike said. Yet Cara hadn’t let him know that Daniella had surfaced.
“Daniella agreed to press charges and testify. She even took out a restraining order, which took guts.”
“That poor girl,” his mother said softly. Ella shook her head, her eyes filled with sadness. “Nobody should have to go through something like that.”
“What about Cara?” he asked. “She was okay afterward?”
Sam nodded. “I’m sorry, man. I really thought you knew.”
“It’s okay.” Mike appreciated that his brother cared, and he knew that Sam had finally accepted Mike’s relationship with Cara.
“She was fine. She gave her statement, made sure Daniella was taken care of, and went home.”
Alone, Mike thought. She’d gone through her own form of emotional hell, one that probably brought back all sorts of painful memories and fear for her mother, and she still hadn’t called him at any time afterward. Damn stubborn, independent woman, he thought, rising from his seat.
“Mike? What’s wrong?” his mother asked.
Simon put a hand over Ella’s to calm her. “It’s fine. Let him go. He has a lady to talk to.”
Leave it to his father to understand. Mike smiled at the old man. “Thanks for dinner, it was delicious.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the cleanup,” Erin said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and a grin that let him know he owed her.
“Hey, take it easy on her,” his brother warned him about Cara.
He supposed some things would never change, and he stopped short of telling Sam that how Mike treated his woman was none of his damned business. That would only cause more trouble than he had the time or patience to deal with.
The only person he wanted to shake sense into was Cara.
Thirteen
Cara had a massive headache. By the time she’d gotten home last night, she’d fallen into bed exhausted but had trouble sleeping. Normally the adrenaline of a situation at work would lead to a crash and a good night’s sleep, but this wasn’t work. Everything about Daniella felt personal to her.
She had flashbacks of Daniella cringing when Bob yelled, slinking down in her seat as if trying to become invisible, taking the slap as if it were normal. It all reminded Cara of her mother’s body language and behavior, hence the nearly debilitating headache.
She took a couple of Advil and was about to lie back down on the couch, a place she’d been most of the day, when her doorbell r
ang.
She padded across the room in her bare feet and peeked out. Catching a glimpse of Mike, her heart fluttered faster.
She swung the door open wide. “Hi!” she said, surprised but not unhappy to see him.
He stood in his leather jacket, a serious expression on his handsome face. “Hi.” He stepped inside and immediately turned to face her, stepping into her personal space.
His brows furrowed tight, and she curled her fingers to prevent herself from smoothing out the wrinkles. She needed to know what was going on in that head of his first.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I thought we had a relationship.” He pinned her with his dark, steady gaze, and her pulse rate tripled.
He was angry and she had no idea why. “Umm, we do?”
“Not sure?” he clipped out.
“Of course I am! What I’m not sure about is your mood and what’s causing it.”
“I’m getting there. So we’re in a relationship.”
She nodded, suddenly too warm in her own skin.
“Yet you not only heard from Daniella, you went to meet her, ended up pulling a gun on her boyfriend, and I had to hear about it from my brother and sister?” he asked, his voice rising.
Despite his anger, she wasn’t the least bit put off. She knew no matter how upset he became, he’d never hurt her. She was more intrigued by this sudden wave of emotion he was turning her way.
“You weren’t on duty last night or today, so you heard it from them?” she asked, trying to understand.
“At dinner with my parents, yeah. So why didn’t you tell me when I called this morning?”
“Because you woke me and I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly!”
“I can understand that, but after you woke up? All day when you weren’t feeling well, when you were upset, it never dawned on you to give me a call? Let me comfort you?”
“Wait. You’re hurt that I didn’t tell you I’d finally heard from Daniella?” This seemed so out of character for him, she didn’t know what to say.
He looked at her, stupefied. “Hello? Of course I’m hurt! If I heard from my father and didn’t call you, wouldn’t you be?” he asked, the storm passing from his eyes, replaced by a calming, more wounded look that touched her deeply.
She swallowed hard. “I thought about calling you. On the way there.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Then why didn’t you?”
Oh, this was going to be hard. Honesty always was, but he deserved the truth. “Want to sit?” she asked.
He tipped his head to the side, his cocky stance answering for him.
“Guess not. I wanted to call and that’s why I didn’t.”
“Which makes no sense.”
“Maybe not to you. But when we started this”—she gestured between them—“I said you were going to break my heart, remember?”
He nodded, wariness in his dark eyes.
“Do you remember what you said?”
Awareness dawned in his expression, and she noted the exact moment when he recalled his statement.
“I said no hearts involved.” His voice sounded scratchy and rough.
Good, since those words were like sandpaper on her already bruised heart. “I knew if I was going to let myself get involved with you, I’d have to keep up my walls. But you’re an intense guy, and what’s between us is too.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Tell me about it,” he muttered.
She smiled. “Yeah. Those walls crumble pretty quickly when you’re around. The thing is, if I’m going to survive you leaving—whenever that is—I have to keep living my life without relying on you.”
“And letting me know what’s going on with you is relying on me too much?” He spread his hands wide, not getting it.
“That’s right. It is.” Already the condo that had always felt like home seemed emptier when he wasn’t here. “I can’t let myself get used to calling you and sharing the little things when soon enough you’ll be gone and I’ll be on my own again.” Just the thought had her shivering.
“Jesus. Is it really that easy for you?” he asked, as if he were the wounded party.
“Are you kidding? Nothing about being with you is easy!” She’d give him her heart on a platter if he asked, but he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. And the pain that would slice through would be sharp enough without adding to it by knowingly letting him in.
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tight. “Join the club, baby.”
She managed a laugh at his use of their word and laid her head against his chest with a sigh. He smelled good, his musky warm scent sending her senses reeling.
“I still wish you’d called me,” he said, his lips against her hair.
“And I wish I didn’t care about you so much, but we don’t always get what we want.” She turned and started to walk away, to give herself much-needed space and distance.
Not because she was angry or upset but because she wanted to jump into his arms and lose herself in everything that was Mike. And losing herself wasn’t something she could afford to do. She thought of her mother, giving up her sense of self for a man who couldn’t give her what she needed. Mike wasn’t abusive like Cara’s father, but he couldn’t give her what she deserved either.
“Cara.” He grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him, the pain on his face indicating he wasn’t happy about their situation. “I feel more too.” He stroked a hand across her cheek.
“But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”
He winced, and she had her answer. Just because she’d expected it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “I’m starving,” she said, focusing on something she could control. “I’m going to heat up some lasagna. Want some?”
He shook his head. “I ate at my parents’.”
Without waiting for his reply, Cara headed toward the kitchen. Her bare feet stuck out of her navy, overly large Serendipity PD sweat pants, her bare waist peeking beneath her cropped top, her ponytail swishing against her back. She’d never looked more appealing. Mike groaned and followed her.
She had so many valid points, he didn’t know where to begin. Did his feelings for her change anything about his future intentions? The truth was, he didn’t know. Everything about his return to Serendipity was unexpected, from the overwhelming depth of feelings he had for this woman to the lack of desperation to leave. But Simon was feeling stronger and he would come back as chief, which would put Mike out of a job.
Could he stay in Serendipity as a detective or cop? Did he even want to? He didn’t know, and until he did, he wouldn’t give her false hope.
He waited until she’d put her dinner in the microwave before capturing her between his body and the kitchen counter. She studied him in silence with too-wise blue eyes.
“Know what I like most about you?” she asked.
The question surprised him. “My good looks?” he quipped.
She slipped her hands around his waist. “Other than that.”
“My charm?”
She managed a laugh. “Besides that—you’ve always been up front with me. Knowing where I stand makes whatever happens more bearable.”
He smiled at the compliment. One that somehow, deep inside, didn’t make him feel very good about himself at all.
Mike stayed while she ate dinner. He asked if she wanted to talk about Daniella or her situation, but she said no, she’d done enough of that all day. So they discussed things like the state of the computer system at the station and Annie and Joe’s upcoming wedding. Mike watched an episode of Law & Order, which she loved and he found ridiculous, so he focused on her devouring half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s instead. Her lips wrapped around the spoon and she slowly savored the ice cream, licking the treat with her tongue and moaning with each chunk of cookie dough she found in the tub.
He couldn’t take another minute and not pick her up and carry her to bed. He had no doubt she’d let him, too. She wasn’t one to hold on to hurt or disappointment. Discu
ssion finished, she hadn’t brought it up again, nor did she punish him with moodiness or any inkling of disappointment.
As they chatted about everyday things, as she seemed content, his mood worsened, which only pissed him off. He had a woman who accepted his life and wasn’t making demands. He should be relieved. Hell, he should be sinking into her willing body and taking everything she was willing to give. But she’d had a rough weekend and though he knew sex would be a good temporary distraction, he couldn’t shake the feeling that sleeping with her tonight, when their feelings were so raw, wouldn’t be fair to her.
She met his gaze over her spoonful of ice cream and grinned.
Okay, maybe her feelings weren’t raw after all, but his were. He was feeling unsettled after their intense talk, almost…unhappy that he was getting everything he wanted and thought he needed out of a relationship.
So instead of staying, he kissed her good night and headed home.
Monday morning, Mike stared at the mound of paperwork on his desk that seemed to have grown over the weekend. He had a part-time administrative assistant, a fifty-five-year-old woman named Rachel who liked to mother him and the rest of the officers who worked under him. Thankfully she was on this morning, and when she walked in with two cups of coffee, he gratefully accepted his and they got to work.
While she sifted through the various papers, Rachel made notes, updated his calendar, and sorted everything into piles for filing later on.
An hour later, they were nearly at the bottom of his inbox. True, his schedule was full for the week, but he was up and running efficiently once more.
“I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” he said to Rachel.
“Your father used to say the same thing. If I’m making myself indispensable, I’m doing my job right.” She smiled, and she looked younger than her light silver hair usually made her look.
“My father’s a smart man.” Mike smiled at the thought of Simon in this same seat.
“And you’ve got a lot of him in you. The respect you command from your officers, the way you don’t take the mayor’s BS—pardon my French—and of course, your way with the ladies.” She laughed. “Not that you’d do anything about all that attention they give you. You’re like your daddy in that way too.”
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