The Lawman

by Martha Shields

  “Just like a dog.”

  “Pretty much. He even comes to her when she calls him. Every time. It’s amazing.”

  Jake stood and dusted off his hands, though just from habit. The floor was so clean he could eat off of it. “Why don’t we sit in the living room, then, and wait a while. Maybe he’ll come out and investigate.”

  She lifted a pale eyebrow. “How about that. Sometimes cops do have good ideas.”

  “Yeah, I’ve come up with one once or twice in my life.” Jake waved an arm toward the door for her to precede him.

  She grinned as she swept through. “Then I won’t hold my breath for the next one.”

  Her sweet little bottom wiggled out the door. Was she doing it on purpose? He wondered if she knew how much she tempted him…and he wondered how much he tempted her.

  Tabitha sat in a red leather chair with pine arms that had horse silhouettes in several different postures painted on them.

  Jake sat gingerly on a red brocade settee, which looked as if it might break if he sat too hard. It didn’t complain at his weight, though, so he leaned back.

  He glanced up to find Tabitha grinning at him. “Am I amusing you?”

  She tossed her head, making her curls bounce around her beautiful face. “Big men are so funny. Like a bull in a china shop.”

  “This place is so small and cramped,” he complained. “And I’m not that big.”

  “Six-what? Two? Three?”

  He stretched his arm along the back of the couch. “Three.”

  “About two hundred pounds?”

  “Thereabouts.” He slapped his stomach. “Solid muscle, of course.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

  Just that quickly, she reminded him of the kiss they’d shared that morning. Shared, hell. Sizzled was more like it.

  Jake wanted to kiss her again. He wished she was sitting beside him so he could pull her against his side. He’d rest his head on her soft blond hair and let his hand caress her shoulder, then—

  Damn. He had to get his mind on other things.

  Despite the desire churning his mind, he pulled out the question she hadn’t answered earlier. “You said Caitlyn reminded you of yourself at her age. What did you mean? You never did finish your thought. Do you have your socks folded in neat piles by color, too?”

  Her smile faded a couple of shades. “No. I’m not that bad.”

  “Then how do you think you’re like her?”

  “It’s just…” Tabitha suddenly found a speck on her skirt fascinating. “She’s an only child who lived with just one parent. She’s had a pretty hard life.”

  “Being the daughter of a cop is a hard life?”

  She looked up, then pointedly away. “It can be.”

  Recognizing the stubborn expression, Jake steered his questions in another direction for the moment. “How was Caitlyn’s life hard?”

  Tabitha took a deep breath. “Hers was much worse than mine. She never knew her father, and her mother abandoned her when she was two. She was raised by a great-aunt, who died when she was four. So she was in and out of foster homes the rest of her childhood.”

  “I thought you didn’t know much about Miss Matthews.”

  Tabitha lifted a silk-clad shoulder. “I don’t know because she told me. There were enough clues in her human resources file, which I review, to make me do a little research.”

  Jake nodded. He could certainly understand the need for information. “Foster homes can be rough. I’ve processed more than a few products of them over the years. I know there are some very good ones out there. Probably most of them are. But I also know it can be pretty tough on a kid. They get care, if they’re lucky, but they rarely get love.”

  “Yes.”

  He studied her lovely face as she stared thoughtfully at the polished pine coffee table. “There are a lot of things that are tough on a kid.”

  Her gaze rose to his. “That’s true.”

  “Like—”

  “Meow.”

  Relief washed across her face. “Billy boy? Where are you, silly Billy?”

  An orange head peered around the end of the couch between them. Huge golden eyes studied Jake intently.

  He slowly lowered his hand, palm up, toward the floor. “Hey there, big fella. Wanna come on over and—” He glanced up at Tabitha. “I don’t know. What do cats like to do?”

  Her eyebrow quirked. “Rub themselves all over you.”

  He straightened enough to put his hand on his knee. “Speaking for yourself, kitten?”

  Her smile vanished. “I’m not a kitten.” She straightened her suit jacket. “I’m Tabitha Monroe, plain and simple.”

  He already knew she didn’t have a middle name. Had her father not cared enough to give her one? “Well, Tabitha Monroe, as far as I can tell, there’s not a damn thing that’s simple about you.”

  “Meow.”

  Their gazes dropped to the cat.

  The feline appeared to be indignant, probably at being ignored.

  Jake smiled. “Women. Huh, fella? Can’t live with them, can’t put them in handcuffs. At least, not without permission or justifiable cause.”

  “Cop humor?”

  Jake ignored her comment and placed his hand near the floor again. “You gonna come here so we can get to know each other, Billy boy?”

  The cat padded over cautiously, then very carefully stretched his neck until his nose was close enough to Jake’s hand to catch a good scent. Jake felt the cold nose bump his hand several times very lightly, like a butterfly’s touch.

  Jake smiled at Tabitha, who watched them. “He tickles.”

  She smiled back. “Cats have a much lighter touch than dogs. They’re a lot more subtle in their affections.”

  “Give me a dog’s enthusiasm anytime. At least it’s honest.”

  Billy took a small step forward and nuzzled his head against Jake’s palm. But when Jake turned his hand to pet Billy’s head, the cat skittered out of reach.

  “Meow.”

  Tabitha chuckled. “He knows you’re not a cat person.”

  Jake shrugged. He wasn’t going to deny it. “You try.”

  Tabitha leaned over slightly and patted her lap. “Hey, Billy. Remember me? Come on, boy. Jump up here and I’ll scratch behind your ears.”

  The cat sniffed around her ankles, then gathered his hind legs under him and leaped lightly into her lap.

  Tabitha grinned triumphantly. “Just takes the right touch.”

  Jake lounged back against the couch. “You mean it takes a cat to know a cat…or kitten.”

  She ignored his comment. “And the right scent, too, I imagine. I smell like the hospital, as Cait does.”

  “I’ve been there all day, too,” Jake pointed out.

  “Oh, that’s right. You have.”

  She didn’t make any further comment, so Jake watched the cat stretch in her lap, enjoying the vigorous petting he received, letting her know with deep purring Jake could hear from where he sat. Tabitha scratched the sides of the furry head, kneaded her way lightly down the arched back, then wrapped her fist around the bushy tail and drew out the length.

  Billy was in feline heaven. Finally, having discerned this human knew the preferred method of pleasing him, Billy settled across her lap.

  “Shall I get the carrier?” Jake asked.

  “Let’s give him a minute to get used to me.”

  “Fine by me.”

  He watched the petting action for several silent minutes, watched her hand stroke down the furry back, imagining what it felt like, wishing her hands were doing the same thing to him.

  He shoved a hand back through his hair and suppressed a groan.

  “What?” she asked quickly.

  “Nothing.” Every damn thing she did made him want her. All she had to do was sit there and breathe. “Did you find cat food for us to take?”

  She nodded. “And litter. We have to take the litter box, too, you know.”

  �
�Great.”

  She gave him a sideways grin. “Why don’t you go clean it out?”

  “What?”

  “Well, you’re not doing anything at the moment.”

  Cursing under his breath, he started to rise.

  “Easy, now. We don’t want to spook him.”

  Jake glared at the cat. It was getting all the affection while he had to clean up the damn thing’s bathroom. But he stood nice and easy.

  Billy turned his head to watch Jake, but didn’t move from his comfortable spot on Tabitha’s warm lap.

  “That’s good,” she crooned. “You’re such a big fine boy, silly Billy.”

  The cat blinked in what looked like orgasmic pleasure, and Jake spun toward the bathroom litter box before he did something stupid like haul the cat off her lap and crawl up there himself.

  The litter box didn’t smell nearly as bad as he thought it would. Caitlyn Matthews’s ferocious cleaning habits extended to her cat, as well, thank God. After pulling the plastic lining over the edge, he saw that it worked like garbage bags with a pull-string closure.

  Gathering it together, he walked back into the living room. “I’ll go ahead and take this out to the trash.”

  Tabitha wrinkled her nose. “Good idea.”

  “Gee. Two in one day.” He opened the door. “I must be living right.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

  He butted the screen door open. “With you around? How could I?”

  If she replied, he didn’t hear it, because he seized the opportunity for the last word and exited. From the vantage point of the landing, he looked around. Darkness had fallen while they were inside, but everything seemed to be normal. So he descended the stairs and deposited the litter bag in the metal trash can on the other side of the driveway.

  Pulling the cell phone from his belt, he checked in with his men at the hospital. Everything was quiet.

  Satisfied that his instincts were right, and that Hines wouldn’t make a move or call until at least tomorrow, if not for a couple more days, Jake took the stairs quickly and pulled open the screen door. “Now what?”

  She glanced down at the cat in her lap. “I guess get the carrier. We can gather his food and other stuff after we get him secure.”

  Jake nodded, then turned down the short hallway again. He pulled the small padded carrier from the shelf above the hanging clothes and carried it into the living room.

  Billy’s head came up as Jake approached.

  “Uh-oh,” Tabitha said. “He’s getting tense.”

  Jake opened the little door. “Let’s get him into it quickly, then.”

  When Tabitha wrapped her hands around the cat’s stomach to pick him up, Billy started howling and writhing in her hands.

  “Ow!” she cried as she shoved him in.

  Jake closed door on the outraged cat and made sure it would stay closed. “What happened?”

  Tabitha held her right hand to her mouth. “He bit me.”

  “Well, don’t…” Jake pulled her hand from her mouth. “What are you trying to do, suck out the poison?”

  “I don’t know. It hurts.”

  She tried to draw her hand back, but Jake held on. “Let me see.”

  There were tiny teeth marks on the pad at the base of her thumb that seeped blood.

  “It’s not too bad, but we’d better get it clean,” he said over the cat’s caterwauling. “Let’s see if Miss Matthews is as anal about medical supplies as she is about everything else.”

  “She’s a nurse,” Tabitha pointed out. “So she should be.”

  Jake wrapped his hand around both of Tabitha’s wrists and pulled her to her feet. He turned toward the bathroom, towing Tabitha along by her uninjured hand.

  Feeling like a child, she tried to back away. “I can do it.”

  Jake held on. “Don’t make it worse.”

  “That’s not the hand that’s bleeding.”

  He pulled her into the bathroom. Keeping a hand on her wrist as if he was afraid she’d run away, he lowered the lid on the toilet seat and ordered, “Sit.”

  Since she didn’t have any choice, Tabitha sat. “This is silly. It’ll be okay.”

  He gave her a withering glance from the medicine chest. “It’s a puncture wound, which means the germs sank deep underneath your skin. Seems as if you’d know such basic first aid, Miss Hospital Administrator.”

  “I do, it’s just—”

  “Ah, iodine.” He glanced her. “Just what?”

  Tabitha held up her injured hand as an excuse to look down, away from his see-through-her eyes. It was just that she’d never had anyone fuss over her before. Not for something so minor. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Iodine hurts.”

  “Not as much as getting an infection would,” he said mercilessly. He doused a cotton ball, then held out his hand. “Let me see.”

  She held out her left hand for the cotton ball. “Give it to me and I’ll do it.”

  “Oh, no.” He held the iodine-soaked cotton out of reach. “You’ll be all prissy like a girl and not get the medicine where it needs to go.”

  “I am a girl,” she reminded him.

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed. Quit stalling.”

  Feeling a frown all the way across her forehead, she gave up and extended her hand. She expected a first-aid assault, not the tender care with which he dabbed the medicine on her upturned palm.

  She gasped as the first iodine hit raw skin.

  He quickly pulled the cotton ball away and blew on the wound.

  His warm breath tickled, but didn’t make Tabitha want to pull her hand away. Just the opposite. She’d never felt anything quite so sensuous.

  Just the thought made a shiver run along her arm.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked as he straightened and applied the iodine again.

  She shook her head. “Why did you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Blow on it.”

  His eyes seemed surprised as they met hers. “I don’t know. Doesn’t it feel good?”

  “Well, yes, but I wondered if there was a medical reason for it.”

  He grinned and bent over his task again. “Hell, I don’t know. My mom always blew on a scrape or cut when she doctored it. Didn’t your dad?”

  Tabitha didn’t answer, and was glad he wasn’t looking at her.

  “As for a medical reason,” he continued as if she had, “maybe it dries the iodine faster, so it doesn’t hurt as long.”

  “That makes sense,” she murmured.

  As he bandaged her hand over her ignored protests, he told her about a scar on his forearm he’d gotten when he was seven. His mother wanted to take him to the emergency room and have it sewed up, but he threw a fit until she doctored it herself. Since it was deep and really should have had stitches, he was left with the scar.

  “So at seven, you’d already learned the macho cop attitude,” she said. “Was your father a policeman?”

  “Nope. Dad sold shipping supplies.”

  “He doesn’t anymore?”

  A shadow crossed Jake’s face. “No.”

  “Retired?”

  He met her eyes squarely. “Permanently.”

  “He’s dead?”

  Jake nodded as he cut off the end of the bandage.

  “What about your mother?”

  “She’s dead, too.”

  “Oh.” Tabitha watched him roll the rest of the bandage up and put it back in the box. “Then we’re both orphans.”

  “Seems so.”

  Neither of them said anything as Jake repacked the supplies and put them back in the linen closet where he’d found them. “Think she’ll notice they were moved?”

  She stood and stepped toward him, which was also toward the door. “Probably.”

  He didn’t turn to go out, however, just stood blocking the way. He lifted her injured hand. “Feel better?”

  “Yes. Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcom
e.” He smiled warmly. “Want me to kiss and make it better?”

  Another motherly ritual she’d heard of though never experienced. Dutifully she held her bandaged hand higher.

  He made no move to take it. “That’s not what I meant.”

  She frowned. She’d been looking forward to feeling his lips on her hand. “What did you—”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “Oh.” She took a tiny, involuntary breath and shivered again. This time it shook her entire body.

  He smiled and locked his gaze onto hers. “I see you remember.”

  “Re—” She cleared her throat. “Remember what?”

  He slipped a hand around her waist and drew her closer. “This.”

  Then his lips touched hers, briefly, softly.

  Her breath caught again. Kissing him brought the oddest sensation. There was a tiny shock, as if an electrical connection that had been broken was now complete.

  Wanting to feel it again, she initiated the second kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

  When his arms locked into place, tightening around her, Tabitha felt a rush of feminine power, bringing a deep sense of satisfaction that she could wreak the same kind of havoc on his senses that he wreaked on hers.

  Jake deepened the kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth.

  Tabitha groaned, and stood on tiptoe to give him better access.

  Jake groaned this time and, placing both hands at her waist, he picked her up and leaned her back against the wall, never breaking the contact of their lips. One of his knees parted hers.

  Understanding what he wanted, she tried to pull her legs up so she could wrap them around his waist, but her skirt was too tight.

  He must have realized the problem, because he gathered handfuls of silk until his hands touched her bare bottom.

  His whole body tightened, and his lips slid off hers. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “You’re wearing a thong!”

  Who cared about that? All Tabitha wanted was for the fire to resume. She pulled his head down to hers.

  With one heave, Jake lifted her up against the wall and settled himself in the crook of her legs.

  Feeling the hardness rubbing against a highly sensitized spot, Tabitha bucked against him.

  “Oh, God.” His lips slid away from hers again, but only to burn a path down her throat, making her lose her train of thought, her will, her determination to—