Her heart beat in her throat. He'd said something like this once before, that maybe he wanted her to fall in love with him. At the time, she'd passed his words off as a joke, something to lighten the mood.
But... What if he'd been serious?
His hands came to rest over hers lightly on the doorframe. "I meant it," he said, almost as if he could read her whirling thoughts. "Princess."
Her stomach pitched.
Princess. Zorro had called her princess.
With everything happening with Lily and Christmas, she hadn't spent much time thinking about the mysterious man who'd kissed her at the Halloween party.
Eric was Zorro?
"C'mon," he said. "Food's on." He wiggled the door until she let loose of it. He stepped back and closed it.
He smiled easily at her as he put a hand to her lower back, but she felt anything but steady. Eric had kissed her. He'd known who she was this whole time.
Had he thought her a fool, not to figure it out all this time? Had he laughed at her?
He shifted as they reached the steps, curling his arm more around her waist. "Quit worrying so much," his whispered. He bussed her temple with a quick kiss before he ushered her in the door.
But how could she?
* * *
"You don't have to clean up." Eric followed Courtney away from the dining room table and past the high counter and barstools into the kitchen.
"I'd like to." Her head was turned slightly away from him as she set the empty, sauce-smeared plate next to the sink, along with the almost-empty bowl of green beans. "It was nice of you to make dinner."
He looked across the bar to the three girls who slurped the last of the messy spaghetti into their mouths. Three faces covered in red sauce. Grinning faces, with white teeth flashing against the stained mouths.
The girls had giggled and chattered all throughout dinner, telling stories of the kids in their class and comparing Christmas presents. But Courtney had been conspicuously quiet, only speaking when spoken to.
He deposited his plate and the bowl of what remained of the bare noodles on the counter as well.
"Here's the bad news," he said. "I don't have a dishwasher. You want to run some water in the sink? I'll scrub."
"You cooked," she argued.
He figured he had time to talk her out of it as he made another trip to the table for more dirty dishes, but by the time he got back to the sink, she was wrist-deep in sudsy water.
He left the plates and grabbed a canister of wet wipes from a drawer and took them to the table for the girls. "I've got warm cookies if you hurry and get cleaned up."
One last trip cleared the last dirty dishes from the table, and he joined Courtney at the counter. "Let me wash. It's my house."
"Uh-uh." She continued scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of sauce from a plate.
He growled a little in his throat, and she eyed him from the side. He snagged a dish towel from the drawer and took the plate from Courtney's hands.
Lily whispered something to Bea, and giggles burst from both older girls at the table.
He nudged Courtney's elbow. "That sounds a little like resolution, doesn't it?"
She watched the girls even as she scrubbed a fork. "I love hearing her laugh." Her voice went slightly nostalgic.
"It must've been hard being away from her. How often did you see her...before?"
She shook her head slightly. "I asked Jake not to bring her to the prison. I thought it would be too hard." She sniffed, then used the back of one wrist to wipe one cheek.
"So you didn't see her until...?"
"Until I got out."
Although he didn't have children of his own, he couldn't imagine going even a month without seeing Bea and Piper.
He touched her wrist, wet and warm from the water. "That must've been hard."
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
"More cookies, Uncle Eric!" Piper banged on the table, breaking the private moment.
He held the invisible connection where their eyes met for another second and then left to tickle his nieces and bring one more cookie.
"You'd better have one before the cookie monsters eat them all," he said. He brought a cookie to Courtney, but she lifted sudsy hands and shrugged.
"Oh, you need help?" He winked and raised the cookie to her mouth. "Here."
She hesitated, but he held firm, and she took a nibble from the cookie. He put the rest on a napkin on the counter—well away from the splash zone—and returned to helping her rinse and dry the dishes.
A few minutes later, he heard the front door open and James's voice called out, "Where's my girls? You've kidnapped them long enough, Eric!"
Bea and Piper squealed and deserted the table to run into the front hall. James appeared in the doorway moments later, one girl held in each arm. He'd shed his suit coat, even though it was cold outside, and his tie was slightly askew.
"Thanks for feeding them," he said. "But we've got to get home. Girls, where're your coats?"
Eric helped gather up the girls' things, and by the time he'd said goodbye and James had loaded them up in the car, Courtney was on the second-to-last pan.
"You want to see my collection of watercolor paints, Lily?" he asked. The little girl nodded, so he fished in a drawer from the sideboard where he kept craft supplies for his nieces, coming up with a kids paint set and paper pad.
"What about painting a picture while your mom and I talk for a little bit?"
Lily tilted her head at him, eyes inquisitive, but she then agreed with an enthusiastic nod.
He rejoined Courtney in the kitchen, hopefully far enough away from little ears.
She was drying her hands with a dishtowel. "We should probably go."
He poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter and offered it to her. "It's decaf. She's busy"—he nodded to Lily—"so why don't you finish your cookie?"
She hesitated but accepted the cup of coffee. She watched it as if it held the answers to the universe as she asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were Zorro?"
He shrugged. "At first I thought you might've guessed," he said honestly. "And then when I realized you didn't know it was me, I was afraid to scare you off. I'm not usually that impulsive."
"Why'd you kiss me?" she whispered. "Because you felt sorry for me?"
"Because you looked kissable. And maybe a little breakable." She frowned, and he decided to just go for it. "I'd like to do it again."
She looked up sharply and shoved the cookie into her mouth.
He grinned a little, but what levity there was faded as he recognized the desolation behind her eyes.
It was time to tell her the rest, and it scared him a little. But he was man enough to face it, to face telling her the hard things about his past. Now he just had to find the words.
* * *
Eric's expression grew serious, the hint of a smile leaving his lips and tiny lines fanning around his eyes.
He glanced behind her to Lily, who sat at the table, and Courtney felt a knot take up residence low in her belly. If he was going to tell her something he didn't want Lily to overhear, did Courtney really want to know?
He tilted his head to indicate the nook just behind the kitchen. He had it set up as a mini-office. There was an empty space large enough for a laptop on the built-in desk, and papers had been strewn around that empty space. From where Courtney stood, she could still see Lily at the table, head down and concentrating on her painting.
Being in the smaller space meant being closer to Eric. He shifted his shoulders, and the motion disrupted the air, sending his scent in her direction.
He cleared his throat. "That first night, Halloween..."
She shored up her courage. Whatever he was about to tell her, she had a feeling it was serious. Like it would change their relationship forever.
"I followed you around the corner to check on you," Eric said. "I'd forgotten how pretty you were. Maybe I wasn't ready for the attract
ion that hit me. Really, I just wanted to see how you were doing."
She nodded, starting at her toes as numbness stole over her. She'd known he couldn't be attracted to her, not really.
"The truth is, I'm not sure you ever should have gone to jail." He blew out a frustrated breath, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
Her head jerked up. "But I committed a crime."
He met her eyes squarely. "Yeah. But I think you're also the kind of person who could've been scared straight by a court hearing and some community service. Especially since you were a first-time offender."
Her chest squeezed. Not to have spent those years in lock-up? Not to have had to fear for her life every day? To wonder if she'd get to see her daughter again?
"The system doesn't always get it right," he said.
She was looking this time, and saw the muscle ticking in his cheek as he stared at something over her shoulder. Saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes.
For the first time ever, she reached for him. She touched his hand lightly, and he grabbed on, gripping her as if he were the one who needed an anchor.
"Did something happen to you?" she asked softly. It was only a guess, because of the depth of emotion he was sharing with her.
He shook his head minutely. "Not to me. To the girls. Bea and Piper."
Her indrawn breath burned her throat. She was curious, but she wouldn't—couldn't—pry for details.
Apparently, she didn't have to, because his eyes met hers, and he squeezed her hand and went on. "The girls were small when James came to me with concerns. Bruises where there shouldn't be bruises. He was working long hours and Janice was home with the girls... At first, she claimed they were clumsy, having accidents—"
His words cut off, and he took a steadying breath.
She was choking on a hot ball of emotion. The picture he painted... She hated thinking about those two little girls suffering, even if one of them had been cruel to Lily.
"It wasn't long before his marriage unraveled, and then the girls got a little older, a little more talkative..." He rubbed his free hand over the bridge of his nose. He wasn't crying, but there was no denying that the big, strong sheriff had been touched by this tragedy.
"James followed every protocol, every rule the system had, and it wasn't enough to protect the girls. It took months longer than it should've to get them away from her."
He shook his head. Maybe unable to continue.
"And now?" she whispered. "He has full custody, right?"
He nodded. "They're finally free. And the kicker is, they still miss their mama."
It was an awful situation, one she had no answers for. She could only imagine that it must've killed him not to be able to fix things for the girls, not to be able to trust in the system he'd devoted his life's work to.
Eric was a man of honor. That his heart was broken because of what had happened to his nieces was obvious. And yet, he still believed in his work enough to risk his life every day. To fight to keep their community safe.
He wasn't someone who would toy with her feelings on a whim.
He was someone she could trust. If she dared.
9
February
Eric usually didn't mind PTA meetings. The school board paid the sheriff's department to have a visible presence when the building was open after school hours. Usually it meant standing at the back of a room full of women and eating cookies. He was doing both of those things, but tonight the activity chafed.
He'd answered a hit and run call earlier, and when he'd made the scene, there had been two DOAs—one of them a child.
He hurt all over, and he either needed to punch something or do a hard workout.
He didn't feel sociable at all.
And then Courtney sidled up to him, Styrofoam coffee cup in hand.
"Hey," she whispered.
He nodded but didn't speak, because he wasn't sure he could keep his roiling emotions from spewing all over her.
Since the night they'd had dinner with the girls at his place, she'd opened up to him. They talked on the phone almost every night and texted throughout the day. He was learning her quirky sense of humor, and he'd been able to open up about some of the stresses of his job. She was settling in to being a mom—not without some bumps and bruises along the way. And he liked being a part of her settling-in process.
He hadn't pushed for another dinner invitation, though he wanted to—this time just the two of them. She was special. Worth the wait, if going slow allowed her to continue to open up to him.
"Are you okay?"
Her quiet question turned heads from the back row, and two of the women glared, then bent their heads together, obviously whispering.
Courtney's eyes darted in that direction, her lips firming briefly before she focused on his face again. She edged slightly closer to him. "You seem a little..."
Frustrated. Upset. Broken. Any of those would've worked, but what she said was, "Antsy."
He rolled his shoulders, making sure his half-full coffee cup didn't spill. "It's been a long day."
"A bad day?"
More than she could guess.
But somehow she knew. He didn't have to tell her. She reached for him. For the second time.
Her hand slipped into his empty mitt, her fingers curling against his.
He looked down on the top of her head, fighting the emotion that swamped his chest.
She'd reached for him, again.
He talked to the counselor the county paid for occasionally. And sometimes his brother, if he needed to vent. But he'd been single a long time, and being on the receiving end of her comfort... Having someone to hold onto him...
It was something he hadn't imagined.
And it mattered.
* * *
Courtney didn't press Eric about what was bothering him. In his line of work, there were so many things it could be, and she couldn't imagine him wanting to talk about it in public.
But the fact that he'd accepted her hand—in public—reinforced the hope that had sprouted and was edging toward full bloom. Especially in this room where she'd begun to feel claustrophobic among all the perfect PTA moms.
But she still wasn't sure she could trust in the hope.
Life had taught her that hope was dangerous.
And there was still one big secret she'd kept from him.
The meeting was adjourned, and voices rose in conversation. Eric nodded to the girls' teacher. He glanced down at her and back at the teacher, and Courtney watched as his eyes narrowed with what looked like determination.
And he took off.
Since their hands were linked, he took her with him.
"What—?"
He didn't answer, just dragged her with him as he caught up to the teacher. What was his rush? Did he need to talk to her about the girls?
Courtney saw the obvious glance the teacher aimed at their joined hands, but the woman didn't comment.
"I think you should reconsider allowing Courtney into the classroom for reading time," he said.
She couldn't have been more surprised. And at the same time, unease twisted her gut.
"Eric." She tried to get his attention, but when he glanced at her, she read determination in his fierce smile. This was the same man who'd kissed her on Halloween, who'd worked to make things better between her daughter and his niece.
Blood rushed from her face and for a moment, she felt faint.
No. Not now.
Not when things had been going well for them.
She'd wanted a relationship with him.
She shook her head, squeezing Eric's hand as tightly as she dared. "It's not a big deal, Mrs. Sanders. Really."
But this time Eric didn't even glance her direction. "Is there a policy that says a parent with a felony conviction can't come into the classroom?"
Mrs. Sanders' lips pinched. "There is not."
"Then you can't keep her from attending reading time."
The teacher shook h
er head slightly. She shot a look at Courtney that expressed genuine apology. "I wish it were that easy. I spoke to the principal, and if parents pull their children from school, we lose state and federal funding. We spoke about it at length, and I'm afraid there are no good solutions here."
A muscle ticked in Eric's jaw. "Would parents really pull their children? What would they do? Homeschool? There's no private school closer than Weatherford, and I don't see folks driving there every day. I think you're worried for nothing."
He seemed to have valid points, but he didn't know...
"Eric, it doesn't matter—"
"Yes, it does. Where's the justice? You've served your time. But you're still being punished."
Her stomach twisted further. His impassioned words were turning heads from other parents nearby.
"Eric—"
He shook her hand. "Don't give up so easily."
"It's not that—"
His focus was already back on the teacher. And she couldn't keep letting him fight on her behalf as she choked on her secret.
"Eric, it doesn't matter," she spoke low enough that hopefully other curious ears wouldn't hear, but her words fell between the three of them clear as a bell. "I can't read."
There was silence for an expectant moment.
She was aware of Eric's piercing gaze as he looked down on her, but she couldn't raise her face to see the disappointment in his expression.
She spoke to her feet. "It's kind of funny, because Jake is so brilliant, but I've been the stupid one all my life. I'd rather Lily didn't know that about me."
The radio on Eric's shoulder chose that moment to squawk loudly. A distorted voice spoke an address and a code and Eric's posture changed, exuding tension.
"I'm sorry—I've got to go."
He dropped her hand to reach for the radio and was already turning away as he spoke into the mouthpiece.
And then he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. Leaving her with Mrs. Sanders.
Surprisingly, the other woman didn't look at Courtney with disdain.
"Will you walk with me to my classroom?" the teacher asked.
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