The Girl Most Likely To...

by Dorien Kelly

  “It was a busy day. How about yours?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.” He paused to have a swallow of his wine. “That is, if you don’t count helping to round up two of Abe Calhoun’s llamas. They were heading south on US-31 with an eye to get back to Peru.”

  She laughed, as he’d hoped she would. “You got ’em?”

  “Yep, they’re captive once again.” About a dozen corny lines came to him about how she held him captive. True enough, but even he couldn’t push this new, romantic Cal that far.

  “Hey,” he said, giving her a crooked smile, “I’ve been thinking…”

  Her blond eyebrows arched as she waited for him to go on. “And?”

  He’d never thought it would be this rough to ask a girl to a dance. “The Westshore Spring Benefit is coming up, and I was wondering if you’d like to go.”

  Maybe he should have waited until she wasn’t sipping her wine. “You mean the charity party at the country club?” she asked once she’d finished coughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Actually, no. I thought it might be fun to get dressed up, drink champagne and dance. We haven’t danced together since Chicago, you know.”

  He saw a quickly extinguished flash of yearning in her eyes.

  “That event is organized by a bunch of social dinosaurs,” she said.

  She wanted to go, he was sure of it. Otherwise, her voice wouldn’t waver that way, and she’d be able to meet his eyes. “They’re nice dinosaurs. Really.”

  “It’s just not my thing. Why don’t you go without me?”

  “Because I want to go with you.”

  She moved aside her wineglass and stood. She looked almost scared.

  “It’s taken me a lot of years to build up an image as Sandy Bend’s bad girl. You want me to give back all those gains by showing up at a public function with you?” She laughed. “I don’t think so, Chief.”

  He felt a jolt of shock as strong as if she’d hit him. It took the full sum of his years as a cop to keep his face impassive. As he struggled with his own conflict, it came to him: She was scared. Reassuring her would only make her more defensive. Cal scrambled for another approach.

  “View it as a business proposition,” he said. “If you’re seen with me, Mike will think twice before he bothers you again.”

  Okay, so it was a blatant manipulation of reality. Dana didn’t need to know about his run-in with Henderson, which had been more than enough warning for the jerk.

  From her viewpoint, this approach just might make sense, even if it struck a killer blow to Cal’s ego. He wanted her willing and excited to be with him, but he’d take her whatever way he could get her.

  She hesitated. “So this would be kind of a work night for you, and I’d only be going to gain some protection?”

  “Sure,” he said, swallowing the bitter pill.

  “Then I suppose I could do it.”

  “Great,” Cal said, feeling distinctly underwhelmed. “It will be a night to remember.”

  He just hoped those memories wouldn’t crop up in his nightmares.

  12

  ACTS OF DEFIANCE were something Dana had once practiced frequently. Today she was brushing up on her skills.

  “I’m not sure about this,” Hallie said as she rinsed Dana’s hair in one of the salon’s bowls.

  “It’s no different than the highlights I put in for the last Summer Fun picnic.”

  “Those had a certain patriotic flair. These are, um…”

  “Pink?”

  “That would be the word.”

  Dana had chosen her new hot-pink highlights to stand out against her pale skin. They also clashed gloriously with the electric-blue dress she’d chosen for tonight’s Spring Benefit. She couldn’t be more in your face without body art. And there she’d drawn the line. She’d never been able to get past the image of what a tattoo would look like on her when she was seventy.

  “So do you want to tell me why you’re really doing this?” Hallie had asked that question in one form or another at least a dozen times this afternoon.

  Dana closed her eyes. The full answer would take months on a shrink’s couch to unravel.

  She knew she was scared to death about going to this dance with Cal. Not only did she think he was committing career suicide, but she wasn’t anywhere near prepared to deal with the women on the Spring Benefit committee. Her mother, a mere committee minion, was the warmest of the bunch.

  Their clique had never come near Devine Secrets, and never would. Gathering in the crème of Chicago trunk-slammer society was no problem. But the West-shore crew? No way.

  Over the past several days, as Dana had dwelled on a plan for dealing with the Spring Benefit, an old quote had played through her mind: Give the people what they want.

  The Westshore women expected—no, wanted—her to be a wild thing. How else could they bolster their own egos? Besides, no one could hurt her if she bit first.

  “Look,” Hallie said as Dana’s silence stretched out, “I know you’re not thrilled about having to go to the benefit, and I know Cal wouldn’t be your first choice as a date—”

  She could no longer hide the truth from her best friend. “Hallie, there’s something you need to know. I saw Cal in Chicago.”

  “Yeah, he saw you, you two said hi, and—”

  “Then we spent the night together in my room.”

  “No way!” Hallie lost control of the water. It sprayed across Dana’s forehead and ran down her face.

  “You don’t have to drown me,” Dana said as her hand closed over the nubby terry cloth towel she’d laid across the arm of the neighboring chair.

  Hallie turned the water off and moved around the bowl to take a seat next to Dana, who had sat up and was drying her hair.

  “We’ve been seeing each other since then, too.”

  “This is fantastic! The first time I saw you two together, I knew you were made for each other!”

  “Let’s just say we get along better in certain arenas than others.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I don’t want anyone knowing about Cal and me. I never want to feel as though I’ve hurt his chances to win the permanent appointment as police chief.”

  “Hurt his chances how?”

  “I have a certain…ah, reputation,” she said as she finished toweling off her new pink do. “And I’m not just talking about the hair.”

  Hallie scowled. “Anyone who knows you understands that’s ancient history.”

  “That’s the point. Anyone who knows me… Everybody else is perfectly content to go by word of mouth.”

  “Forget those people.”

  “I can and you can, but right now, Cal can’t.”

  “Cal cares about you, and there’s no way he’s going to hide his feelings to protect his job.”

  “This has been about sex, nothing more.”

  Hallie snorted. “Cal’s a Brewer. Trust me, in the Brewer family nothing happens without hearts being involved, no matter how much we might wish it were otherwise.”

  “Not this time.”

  Her friend’s smile was unbelievably smug. “If thinking that makes you feel better, be my guest.”

  SHE SHOULD HAVE GONE with the tattoo.

  That night, when Dana opened her front door and ushered Cal into the living room, he looked appreciative, but not shocked.

  “Great dress,” he said, his eyes lingering on the skin exposed by the plunging neckline. “You look gorgeous.”

  “It’s vintage,” she replied. “My tribute to Lauren Bacall. Can’t you see Bogie’s ghost hovering over there in the corner with Old Lady Pierson?”

  “Smart ghost,” he said.

  Thinking maybe his gaze hadn’t traveled above her cleavage, she raised her fingertips to fluff her spiked highlights. “Of course, I’ve updated the Bacall look.”

  He simply smiled.

  Yes, it seemed that the ability to shock diminished in direct proportion to the number of times one exercised it. A tattoo
of an anaconda coiling up her right arm and down to her breast might have done the trick, but pink hair was yesterday’s news.

  As Mr. V and Olivia cornered Cal and made him promise not to keep her out too late without calling, Dana allowed herself to take in how spectacular he was.

  Just about any man could look good in a tuxedo, but a rare few could make a woman’s heart sing. Cal fell into that group. The white of his shirt set off the dark tones of his skin, and his eyes seemed even bluer than usual tonight. It also didn’t hurt that he was tall and most definitely fit.

  He caught her checking him out and sent a quick wink her way. All the while, he assured Olivia that his intentions were honorable.

  Dana gathered her black velvet wrap from the back of Mr. V’s orange leather recliner.

  “Well, shall we?” she asked, nodding toward the door.

  Olivia wasn’t quite done. “Didn’t you bring her flowers? It’s not a Spring Benefit without a corsage. Butterflies are helpful,” she added.

  Cal reached into the breast pocket of his tuxedo. “I decided to go for something a little different.”

  He handed Dana a flat, blue velvet jeweler’s box. Her hands trembled as she opened it. Once she had, tears began to well.

  Inside the box was a delicate gold chain. At intervals on it rested small, gold high-heeled shoes, each a different style, but all twinkling with tiny diamonds.

  Nobody had ever given her something this wonderful before. In fact, her wedding ring from Mike had been of the gumball-machine variety.

  Speechless, she looked up at Cal.

  His smile was tentative, almost as though he’d been worried about whether she’d like his gift. Seeing his concern touched her all the more.

  “I’d kind of noticed you have a thing for shoes,” he said.

  She wondered whether he’d also noticed she had a thing for him.

  “It’s beautiful. Could you help me put it on?” Issuing a silent thank-you to the inventor of waterproof mascara, she subtly wiped the tears rimming her eyes.

  Cal took the box and freed the necklace. When he stepped behind her, she tipped her head down so he could latch the fine chain. He lingered long enough to press a kiss on the back of her neck and whisper “perfect” to her.

  Dana sighed. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. Maybe she could have skipped the pink highlights and the tattoo.

  CAL STEELED HIMSELF to run the gauntlet of committee members stationed just inside the country club’s front door. As he took Dana’s left hand and rested it over the inside of his right arm, he noticed her fingers were far chillier than the cool night air could have caused. She was also dragging her feet in a very un-Dana-like way.

  “We’ll make it fast,” he promised, nodding toward the committee. “Two words to each of them.”

  “‘Get stuffed’?” she suggested.

  He bit back a smile. “I was thinking more in terms of ‘great decorations.”’

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Let’s just do it and then find Steve and Hallie.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Cal hid a wince. When faced with this night, no doubt Dana had concocted a plan, two backups and a contingency. He’d known she’d worked herself into a state when he’d seen the pink hair. Maybe she’d intended to knock everyone off balance with the statement, but he liked the highlights.

  Really.

  He smiled at her. Slivers of green shone in her hazel eyes.

  “Race you to the champagne,” she said as they joined the receiving line.

  Their chorus of “great decorations” continued unbroken until they landed in front of the last committee member. He felt Dana’s hand tense where it rested against his tuxedo jacket.

  “Mother,” she said in a subdued voice. “You look lovely.”

  Cal had seen happier faces on guys he’d just taken down and cuffed than the one Mrs. Devine wore. Through his years as a police officer, he’d learned that some people simply needed extra guidance before they behaved. He’d lay odds that she was one of those folks.

  “I think the Devine women are the most beautiful here tonight,” he interrupted before Dana’s mother could speak. He brushed a kiss against Dana’s cheek. “Then again, I’m biased.”

  Mrs. Devine’s mouth opened once, twice, but she said nothing. She compressed it into a thin line and glared at Dana’s hair. Finally, a very grudging “thank you” worked free of her lips.

  As they walked away, Dana squeezed his arm and murmured, “My hero.”

  He liked the sound of that.

  CHAMPAGNE AND MUSIC had a way of making even the most uncomfortable evening more tolerable. Cal Brewer had a way of making it downright magical.

  Everyone seemed to be in a welcoming mood when Cal was around. During dinner, even her mother and her friends had stopped by to talk about having a ladies’ day once the day spa was open. About the only one who hadn’t let his guard down was Richard MacNee, but he was politically astute enough to work the crowd on the other side of the ballroom.

  She and Cal danced, laughed, talked and then danced some more. Just after ten, he left her with Steve and Hallie while he had a quick word with the mayor. Dana was happy for the break. Her mock alligator pumps had been a case of brief infatuation. If she had walked more than five steps in them, she would have never bought them. Her toes were pinched, and she thought she could feel a blister starting on her left heel.

  The band struck up a new tune. Steve and Hallie gave each other that “they’re playing our song” look.

  “Go on, you two,” Dana said, shooing them in the direction of the dance floor. “I’m a big girl. I promise I can stand here all by myself.”

  “If you’re sure…” Hallie said with the proper degree of best friend hesitation, but she already had Steve by the hand and was on her way.

  Warm from the press of bodies and the time spent dancing, Dana looked longingly out the French doors to the back terrace. After a moment, she gave up on acting like she was thrilled to be standing there sweaty and alone, and slipped outside.

  The night was clear and warm for mid-May. Crickets sang with the muted music drifting from the clubhouse.

  Smiling, Dana strolled to the edge of the terrace. Resting one hand on the stone balustrade that marked its border, she slipped off first one shoe, then the other.

  “Much better,” she said with a sigh. She knew she’d pay when it was time to put them back on, but for now, comfort ruled.

  “You never could keep your shoes on after a night of partying,” a voice said from behind her.

  Dana gripped the rail tighter. “I didn’t see you here, Mike.”

  He stood next to her, now. “I saw you…couldn’t miss you.”

  Even in the dim glow cast by the club’s lighting, he looked tired, almost worn around the edges.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said.

  Thinking ahead, she began to slip her right foot back inside its shoe. “Just for a second. I promised Cal I’d be back.”

  She could hear the band winding down for a break, and the sets of doors onto the broad terrace open as more party-goers stepped outside to admire the starlit night.

  “I’m kind of in a situation,” Mike said. “I might be leaving town for a while—just until things cool down.”

  Right shoe on, Dana lined up her left shoe with the tip of her foot. The shoe wobbled, then fell over. Seeing no way out, she bent to straighten it and wedge her poor foot back in. When she stood, he gripped her upper arms.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  She couldn’t have heard him properly. “You what?”

  “Florida, maybe.”

  She tried to step back, but couldn’t. Unsettled, she shot the first flip comment that came to mind. “Too much sunshine.”

  “Come on, Dana. Game’s up.” He pulled her against him. He smelled of stale beer. She turned her head away. “You’ve made your point with Cal Brewer. You made me suffer, and now it’s time to come
home.”

  His fingers pressed into the side of her face as he forced her to turn back to him. Before she could even draw a breath, his mouth slammed over hers.

  Instinct could be a harsh guide. Hard and fast, Dana slugged him in the stomach. Mike doubled over and gasped a word not often heard on the Westshore Country Club’s genteel terrace.

  Victorious, she swiped her hand across her mouth. What she’d give for some sort of antibacterial wipe.

  “Let’s get this straight,” she said after taking a few quick steps out of his potential reach. “Cal’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s smart and honest and hardworking, and he’s kinder to me than any man has been. You, on the other hand, should be counting yourself lucky not to be in jail yet. Go to Florida, Mike, and don’t come back.”

  She swung toward the ballroom, then stopped as she saw the crowd that had gathered between her and the doors.

  “Dandy.” She figured she could either brazen it out or act like a wilting flower. Brazen suited her better.

  “Someone might want to get him a glass of water,” she said to the spectators. “Then again, maybe not.”

  Cal was at her side before she could even wonder how he got there. He wrapped his arm around her and walked with her to the clubhouse. “The best thing ever, huh?”

  For once, Dana chose silence.

  THEY DROVE AWAY from Westshore without talking, Cal because he was busy reveling in what he’d heard Dana say, and Dana probably because she was in shock.

  He’d just pulled off the highway when she finally seemed to notice her surroundings. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Home,” he said.

  “Then you turned off three miles early.”

  “My home.”

  “Oh.”

  A few minutes later they pulled up in front of the farmhouse. The porch lights on either side of the front door shone like beacons to Cal’s future. He smiled. Everything was so clear now.

  He switched off the engine, then went around to open Dana’s door.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as he helped her from the Explorer.

  He’d never even considered bringing another woman here for the night, but this just felt…right. She stood in the living room, looking so overwhelmed that he had to kiss her, so he did. Once and with all the tenderness he felt for this tough girl with a heart so big she didn’t begin to know how to handle it.