by Tara Mills
Of course she was driving up Lester Parkway when she realized she’d completely forgotten to give Bob a heads up on Wes. She pulled into the parking lot across the street from the gym and ran inside to the office. Bob was just hanging up the phone when Lauren knocked on the jamb. He waved her in.
“Ms. McKay. What brings you our way?” he asked, his coarse gray whiskers giving him a grungy look.
“Hi, Bob. I thought I’d drop by and see how the self-defense classes are going and tell you I might have another instructor for you. I meant to call you days ago but I haven’t had a chance.”
“You talking about Wes?” He nodded at the window overlooking the small gym.
“Yes,” Lauren said slowly, approaching the glass.
* * * *
Wes beckoned to a woman standing at the edge of the mat with her coworkers. “Joyce, would you come up and help with this next demonstration?”
The woman in gray sweats took off her glasses and handed them to a friend before walking over to him.
“Situation,” Wes began, directing his comments to the entire class. “You’re walking to your car in a parking lot. What should you do first?”
A chorus of women’s voices said, “Scan the area.”
“And?”
“Look in and under the cars.”
“Why under the cars?”
“Because it’s easy to pull a woman off her feet by the ankles.” Their voices almost sounded like a chant, but he was happy to hear they were paying attention.
He turned to Joyce. “Where are your keys?”
“In my hand, ready to go.”
“Are you done yet?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I still need to look inside my car before I get into it.”
He nodded, giving all of them a satisfied smile. “Very good. Now, I’m the bad guy and I’m going to take advantage of the fact that you’re distracted and your back is to me. When I grab you like this, what are you going to do?”
She gave an involuntary yelp when Wes came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her chest, locking her arms down so she couldn’t fight back, or so it would seem.
“I’ve got you, Joyce. What are you going to do about it? Think fast, otherwise I could throw you into your car and take your keys.” Wes could see he’d shaken her. Now he had to lead her back to a rational response. “Think, Joyce. You aren’t powerless. Did you drop your keys?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “No.”
“What can you do to me with them?”
“Stab you?”
“Go for my hands, my arms if you can. If you can’t manage that, stab into my leg, go for my groin, anything you can reach. Be merciless. What else can you do?”
“I can kick.”
“Go ahead.”
She gave his padded shin a weak kick and he frowned.
“Don’t hold back. You’re not going to hurt me. Fight, go for my weak spots. Kick me in the knee.”
Her next feeble kicked pissed the hell out of him.
“Come on!” he shouted at her. “Kick me like you mean it, like your life depends on it. It just might!” He needed to psych her up.
Joyce slammed her soft rubber sole into his protected knee and he set her down.
“Better. Your kick just bought you enough time to get away.” Wes addressed the entire class next. “What else could she have done?”
“Stomped your instep.”
Wes nodded. “Good. What else?”
“Punched you in the groin,” another voice answered, and there were uncomfortable titters and giggles but he smiled.
“Ladies, don’t underestimate a good wallop to the nuts. At the very least he’s going to relax his grip enough to let you squirm free. Best case scenario he’ll be down on the ground in a ball, gasping for air and unable to chase you. So go for it. Don’t be shy or reserved. This is not the time for social niceties.” He turned and patted Joyce on the shoulder. “Good job.”
The poor woman looked tremendously grateful to be excused.
Wes looked over all the faces and raised his eyebrows. “Who wants to help me demonstrate a frontal assault?”
* * * *
Lauren stared in horror as Wes was pummeled by an old woman. Sure, he was wearing full protective pads but still, that little spitfire was beaming like a maniac with every blow she landed on him.
Lauren cringed. “My God, she’s trying to kill him!”
Bob chuckled. “He’s insane, likes to rile them up.” There was approval in his voice.
Lauren glanced over with a frown. “But why would he do that?”
“To prepare them. It’s one thing to know what you’re supposed to do when you feel safe. It’s completely different when emotion gets in the way. They have to know how to handle it. The last thing you want them to do is freeze up.”
They both winced when Wes took a solid kick to the groin. It was incredible that he managed to stay on his feet, even with the pads. Bob was shaking with silent laughter when Wes pointed the woman off the mat.
Lauren took that opportunity to slip away while Wes dismissed the class.
* * * *
Ten minutes after class ended Wes wandered out of the gym with his huge, black duffel of equipment slung over his shoulder. He was limping a bit. He shook his head and chuckled ruefully. Leave it to the sweetest little woman to get in the best shots. He’d never underestimate Lois again.
Still, Wes loved teaching self-defense. It gave him a satisfaction entirely different from police work, though he considered the two related. He liked to call it his ounce-of-prevention approach. There was nothing more satisfying than taking a big chunk out of the potential victim pool, and if even one perp had to suffer a little retaliation they might just reconsider targeting other easier marks later on. Let them take on ninety pound Lois in her baby blue sweat suit and matching hair. Wes laughed softly, imagining how some goon would pay dearly for that fuck up.
“Wes?”
He swung around and saw Lauren walking toward him. “Hey!” he said cheerfully. Smiling, he tossed his bag into his trunk. “What are you doing here?”
“I dropped by to tell Bob you might be calling, but you were already here.”
He closed the lid and laughed. “I know, he reeled me right in.”
“You did a nice job in there.”
Wes was stunned when her gaze dropped down his body to the bulge in his black sweats. Then she flushed and jerked her eyes back to his.
“Thanks,” Wes said carefully, a hint of a smile lifting one cheek. “Hey, would you consider going to get a coffee with me?”
“Now?”
“No time like the present. We can catch up.”
“Sure…that’d be nice.”
“Let’s take my car.”
Without giving her a chance to argue he went to his passenger door and opened it for her. When she settled into the seat he closed her in.
Wes jingled his keys as he walked around the car, the memorable quote from Neil Armstrong running through his head. That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.
He chuckled at the comparison, but in truth, falling under the spell of someone was very similar to enduring space. There was risk, weightlessness, and a strange euphoria that came with the hit of pure oxygen. It was bliss, a pure high you didn’t want to come down from. Humans had always strained for the heavens, metaphorically speaking, though their interpretations of what constituted heaven varied from individual to individual.
Wes slid into the driver’s seat and gave Lauren a warm smile. “And we’re off,” he said.
Chapter 4
Lauren realized the last time Wes had driven her anywhere was fifteen years earlier when he’d dropped her and Sherry off at the mall for the afternoon. It felt a hell of a lot different now. For one thing, she was sitting in the front seat, not mooning over the back of his head. For another, there wasn’t a constant stream of cha
tter coming from Sherry to keep her grounded.
Wes glanced over and said, “I had dinner with Sherry and Ken yesterday.”
Lauren jumped a bit, startled by the sound of his voice. “Ken? Is he Sherry’s husband?”
“Yes.”
“So what’s he like?”
“He’s a nice guy. Worships her like a goddess, which I wholeheartedly approve of. He’d walk through a plate glass window for her.”
“So good guys really do exist,” she murmured.
Wes smiled. “There are a lot more out there than you probably realize. You’ve just had your nose rubbed in the garbage heap too long.”
“You think so?”
“I’m only speculating here.”
“And how about you?” She risked a quick look at him, wondering how he’d characterize himself. Would he admit he was one of the nice guys?
Wes’s smile was grim. “Me, I’m throwing them onto the garbage heap as fast as I can, hoping my back holds out.”
Not the answer she was expecting but she couldn’t fault it either. He simply read the question differently. “Let’s hope it does,” she said softly.
They both fell quiet after that, the turn signal finally breaking the silence five minutes later when he turned into the parking lot in front of the coffee shop. They met up at the front bumper and Lauren nearly jumped when she felt Wes’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward. He reached around her at the door and caught the handle before she could. Pulling it open, he followed her inside.
Lauren was going into system overload. Nothing had plagued her more over the years than the hunger for Wes’s touch, the aching need to be near him, and now that she felt him, sensed him right behind her, she was so skittish she didn’t know what to do. She was beyond confused, suspended between longing and outright panic.
“Two,” he told the hostess over Lauren’s head.
She led them to a table by the windows and they sat facing each other. They both picked up a menu and read silently.
Wes finally glanced up. “Sherry misses you.” He shut his menu and set it aside.
“I miss her too,” Lauren admitted sadly, closing her own.
“I won’t pry,” he said, tipping his head thoughtfully, “even though I’m curious as hell. Just know this—she’ll take your call, no questions asked.”
“I’ll call her.”
“Good. Then I won’t push anymore.”
“Thank you.”
A server stopped over. “What can I start you with?”
“Lauren?” said Wes.
“I’d love a double mocha.”
“And you, sir?”
Wes’s eyebrow rose as he appeared to reconsider his order but then he relaxed back in his chair and shook his head. “Nope, I’ll stick with my first choice—caramel latte.”
“I’ll be back.” The server gathered up their menus and left.
“Mmm, I love caramel,” Lauren said wistfully.
“And I love chocolate. How about sharing a taste back and forth? Not afraid of my germs, I hope.”
Lauren laughed nervously, her heart pumping at the idea. “Hardly, I stopped thinking boys had cooties in the tenth grade.”
He looked shocked. “It took you that long?”
Lauren blushed. “Well, how old were you when girls stopped being toxic?”
He thought about it for a second and grinned. “Kindergarten. I kissed Maggie Foster just before snack time.”
Figures. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Beats me.” The smile he gave her was sinfully sexy.
Lauren’s next question begged to be asked, but it wasn’t easy because the answer had the potential to hurt. “So, are you seeing anyone?”
“No. You?”
“No,” she said, relieved to have that topic out of the way.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Why aren’t I seeing anyone?”
He nodded.
“A lot of reasons I suppose.” She sighed. “I was living with someone, Keith, when Sarah and Will were killed and I just turned on him. I couldn’t stop myself. He didn’t deserve it, but I needed to lash out and he was convenient. I held him accountable for all the shitty things men do. I tarred him with the same brush because I was furious, bitter, and in pain. He tried to be understanding at first, but it’s pretty tough when the person you want to help is going for your jugular all the time.”
“That is tough.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you love him?”
It was difficult to look at Wes and answer this question knowing he was the other major wedge in the relationship. “No,” she finally admitted. “I wanted to. I hoped I would grow to love him because we were comfortable together, but life doesn’t always follow the script we’d like it to follow.” She gave him a wistful smile, more than ready to shift the topic back to him. “I just can’t get over it. You’re a cop. How did that happen?”
Wes chuckled. “Like you said, life happened.”
“Go on.”
He exhaled a deep breath. “Just into my junior year of college a good friend of mine was raped off campus.”
Lauren’s face fell and he nodded.
“It really forces you to grow up. I was pretty cocky, taking my personal safety for granted. I was ignorant.” She could see the sadness and regret on his face. “Unbelievably innocent. I suppose we all were. But the attack was a sobering reality check. Oddly enough, it gave me something to focus on. I was floundering at the time, still not exactly thrilled with my major. After her rape, I switched to law enforcement.”
“Is she the reason you teach self-defense?”
“An ounce of prevention.”
She returned his smile. “I like that. Are you still in touch with her?”
“We touch base a few times a year. She counsels other women now.”
“I’m not surprised. Some of the best counselors are the ones who have direct experience to draw from. She must be a strong person.”
“She is. I always admired her for it.”
Their coffees arrived and they passed on ordering anything else for the time being.
Lost in thought, Lauren poked her spoon into the whipped cream and twirled it around in the cocoa powder sprinkled over the top. She set the spoon aside and lifted the cup to take a taste. When she lowered it she found Wes watching her.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Just thinking.”
“I’m here.”
Lauren laughed. He was—a fact she found both strange and incredible. How could she tell Wes the truth? There was no way she could look him in the eye and confess that she’d carried this torch for so long that she was terrified, absolutely terrified, of getting any closer to him.
Luckily, Wes didn’t push it. “How do you like working at the shelter?” he asked instead.
Lauren looked at a distant point just over his shoulder and shrugged. “It’s rewarding.”
“That’s convincing. Don’t you like it?”
She brought her eyes back to his. “Just think about it for a second. I have a career because women and children find themselves needing protection from the very men who are supposed to love and protect them. It’s absurd. The really sad part is we don’t even have enough shelters to satisfy the demand.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was,” she said. “We get far more calls than we can handle. It’s wrenching to turn a woman in crisis away for lack of space. You find yourself crossing your fingers, hoping she’ll be okay until something opens up, and praying she doesn’t become another statistic or news blurb.”
“I never realized.”
“You know, Sarah tried to get into a shelter with Will, but couldn’t. She had to get a restraining order and change the locks instead. It didn’t make a bit of difference.”
There was a grave, understanding set to his face. “I’m sorry.”
Lauren ran her fingertip along the table in little circl
es for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. “So I fundraise, get the word out, pound on doors, and beg for support.”
“We’re on the same team. What you’re doing is important.”
“I know.” She studied him carefully and he raised his eyebrows.
“Your turn. What else do you want to know?” said Wes.
“Have you ever shot anyone?”
“No.” He traced the handle of his cup slowly with his index finger and thumb. “I’ve drawn my weapon but never had to fire it. I’m lucky. I’ve known a few guys who had to deal with it afterward, and it isn’t easy.”
“I’ll bet. What sticks with you?”
“Grim pictures. They’ll pop into my head at the strangest times. The one that always gets me is the missing guy we found in a trunk three weeks later. Disturbing.”
“How do you cope?”
“I immediately turn the channel. Think of something else. Nature works best.”
“And you still like what you do?”
“I love it. Not all of it, but I know I’m doing what I was meant to do.”
Lauren shook off the depressing mood. She was sitting across from Wes for crying out loud! “So what brought you back here?”
Wes leaned back in his chair and shook his head, a confessor’s smile on his face. “I missed it, and I wanted to be close to my family again. My parents are getting older and Sherry’s about to have a baby. How could I stay away?”
“I’m glad you couldn’t.”
One eyebrow rose then Wes smiled at her. “I got to feel the baby move the other day.”
Lauren shot up in her chair, a big smile on her face. “You did?”
“He was all over the place. I’m not sure if I felt an elbow or a kick, but it was crazy cool.”
“That would be so weird, like having an alien in your body.”
“It is in a way.”
“I suppose it is.”
She took another sip, and when she lowered her cup Wes laughed and held out his napkin, dabbing her nose. “You have some whipped cream.”
Lauren blushed with embarrassment. “Thanks.” She snatched up her own napkin and finished the job herself. “Better?”
“Perfect.”