Falling for the New Guy

by Nicole Helm

  She took a bite of brownie, then the phone in her pocket buzzed, producing a genuinely nauseated feeling.

  It’s probably someone from the department.

  She ignored it.

  “So,” Tess said brightly, having no idea where she was going with this line of conversation, “Marc told me you’re an electrician. That’s a really interesting field of work.” That Tess knew absolutely nothing about.

  “Aside from the whole dealing-with-customers aspect, it’s pretty much a dream job. Luckily Jacob takes care of most of the customer crap.”

  “What do you do, Tess?” Grace asked.

  “She’s a police officer,” Leah said before Tess could answer. “She’s even my brother’s superior. It’s all very sordid.”

  Grace chuckled, but shook her head. “See? Ridicule. Don’t pay attention to her. But, oh, you should join our book club!” Grace said, nodding toward Leah. “There’s always room for more.”

  “Yeah! You could probably blow us all out of the water, but you should definitely come.” Leah nodded. “If you want. It’s a good group. Always nice to get out and do something.”

  Blow them out of the water? What did book clubs have to do with being a cop? “I’m confused.”

  “Oh, right. Our version of book club doesn’t exactly involve books,” Grace said with a sheepish smile.

  “What does it involve?”

  “Guns,” Leah said, as if it was the most normal thing in the word to have a book club about guns.

  “Well, that is different.”

  “We go to Shades gun range once a week, weather permitting, and do target practice. Susan over there—” Leah pointed to a tall redhead holding the baby that had been crawling around earlier “—she’s a part of it, too.”

  “It helped,” Grace said simply, and that, coupled with some hints she’d gotten from around the party, was enough for Tess to get it. Grace had gone through something similar to what had happened with her and her dad. But she had been introduced to Grace’s parents at one point, so her...incident couldn’t have been exactly the same.

  Or was it similar enough? Tess didn’t know. It was all uncomfortable, really. She knew it was meant to be some kind of comfort or commiseration, but regardless, the idea of getting together with other women and doing something sounded good. Though she occasionally went out with some of the dispatchers, considering all her direct coworkers were male, she didn’t have a lot of female friends.

  She smiled at the two women in front of her. “I’d like that.”

  “Good. You can give me some dirt on my brother. The guy’s a fortress.” Leah sighed as Marc headed toward them. “And here he comes. Like he has some kind of radar I’m finally going to get some information to make fun of him over.”

  “Any dessert left?” Marc asked, easily slipping his arm around Tess’s waist. Well, that she liked. Maybe all that dissatisfaction from not knowing much about his history was unfounded. Maybe it was an offshoot of not really knowing what to do with her life now that her father was basically out of it.

  And everyone at the department knew she and Marc were together. The world hadn’t ended yet. It was as if her whole life had been flipped upside down, and yet everyone was acting as if it was business as usual.

  Jeez, she was tired.

  “Thursday nights,” Leah said with a wink. “Book club. I’ll harass Marc for your number later.”

  Leah and Grace walked off with their desserts and Marc gave her a quizzical head tilt. “Book club?”

  “Ah, yes, they invited me to join their book club.”

  “I guess you won’t be reading any biographies of Lyndon Johnson.”

  She smiled. “No. No, I do not think so.”

  He helped himself to a brownie, his arm still around her waist. “You are a hit with my family. Mom’s practically salivating over that baby like you’ll...” He trailed off, cleared his throat. “Um, I didn’t mean it like—”

  “No, I know.” They walked to a few chairs that had been set up under a big tree. “I’m pretty sure she interrogated me on the health of my uterus.”

  Marc choked on a bite of brownie. “She did not.”

  “Okay, she didn’t come right out and say it, but I got the sense I was being interviewed for my ability to offer her grandchildren.”

  A few reddish spots appeared on Marc’s face. “She’s...”

  “Deeply concerned about her child’s future.” Tess reached over and gave his knee a squeeze. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I think it’s nice, if a little weird and uncomfortable.”

  He made a kind of grunting noise, but as he leaned back in his chair, his arm came to rest on the back of hers. One thing she would never get tired of. He might shut himself off, but he never failed to touch her, smile at her, kiss her.

  Words might be hard for him, but affection wasn’t, and Lord knew she could use some affection in her life.

  So she tilted her head to his arm to lean against it. She surveyed the group around them.

  Almost everyone was in pairs, and even from her brief introductions she could see differences in the relationships. Grace and Kyle were sweet together. Smiles and hand-holding. Whereas Jacob and Leah were all teasing all the time, and yet there was an undercurrent of genuine affection that was obvious to anyone—probably even Marc. Mrs. Santino led Mr. Santino around a bit like a dog on a leash, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  She glanced at Marc from the corner of her eye as his parents approached Leah and Jacob. He looked relaxed, toying with the ends of her hair. Almost carelessly, as if it was just a habit he’d picked up.

  She leaned into him, searching the sky for the first star to wish on. Silly and foolish, but she’d all but missed out on a childhood of silly and foolish, so why not employ a little now?

  “I don’t know if it’s the right time or place for this,” he said after a few minutes of pleasant quiet. “But I did want you to know...” His eyes seemed to take in all the couples around them, too. Susan and her wife with their little baby, Henry and his bubbly girlfriend.

  “When Franks brought me into the office yesterday he mentioned that if our relationship went, uh, legal, I believe was his term for it, one of us wouldn’t be able to work at BCPD anymore. At least not as an officer.”

  “I know that, Marc. We don’t have to talk—”

  “I know it’s too soon to think about, maybe even too soon to talk about, but I just wanted you to know that if it came to that—I’d leave. We...still have a ways to go, but I didn’t want you wondering. BCPD is yours, Tess. You belong there, and I might like it there, but I could like it somewhere else just as well. I’d never expect or ask you to leave.”

  She swallowed at the lump in her throat, that he’d offer, that his fingers never stopped rubbing the strands of her hair between them.

  “It’s not a big thing. Just the truth.”

  She swallowed and forced herself to turn to him. “It is a big thing.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his mouth instead. “And I appreciate it.”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  And it was good. She was getting her good. Some well-deserved good. Nothing was going to take that away. Not a damn thing.

  * * *

  “COME ON, SLEEPING BEAUTY.” Tess was cashed. They’d spent most of the evening in the yard of MC, watching the stars come out, talking—not even all small talk. By dessert Marc had managed to feel almost comfortable with the people he only barely knew.

  With the help of Tess.

  Who had promptly fallen asleep on the way home and was now having a hard time waking up. She’d had a hell of a few days.

  “I’m going to have to carry you.”

  She mumbled incomprehensibly. He slipped his key rin
g over his finger, then reached over and unbuckled her seat belt. He did his best to pull her out without knocking any body parts against the top or side of the truck.

  “I can’t believe you’re carrying me,” she muttered. But she rested her cheek on his shoulder, and he kicked the door closed.

  He adjusted her weight, trying to make his grasp around her knees more stable. She expelled a breath against his neck.

  “You’ll never make it up two flights of stairs.”

  “Well, now you’ve challenged me,” he said, trying hard not to sound out of breath. “And if you’re so awake, you can pull that door open.”

  She chuckled and reached for the door. It wasn’t easy to keep her in his grasp when she did that. But he managed, and he was going to manage it up those stairs. Really. He was. Because he could.

  “Put me down, Santino. You are not going to drop me down those stairs.”

  He tightened his grip. “Damn right I’m not.” The first flight wasn’t even hard.

  Then he started sweating. But he forced himself to their floor without dropping her or having a heart attack or anything.

  “You’re dying.”

  “I am getting you all the way to my bed.”

  She pressed her mouth to his neck. “And then what are you doing to do when you get me to bed?”

  “Okay, knock that off. I can’t do this with an erection.”

  She giggled, then wiggled. “Let me down.”

  “No, no, no. Got this far.” He shook his fingers so the keys jangled. “Unlock, please.”

  “You can’t even talk in complete sentences, but you manage to say please.” She shook her head. “And carry me. You’re crazy.” But she unlocked the door and let him carry her inside.

  He kicked that shut then turned. “Dead bolt,” he instructed.

  “Somehow I think you would still insist on locking the dead bolt even if I was standing in the middle of the room naked, ready to go.”

  “Wouldn’t want anyone to walk in.”

  She snorted. “You are a bit paranoid, sweetheart. Someday I’m going to come home to, like, an infrared gun safe.”

  Marc made it to the hallway with slow, halting steps. His arms were starting to shake, but he was going to do this. Because he liked the sound of someday and come home to.

  Finally, he dumped her on the bed.

  “I think you’ve worn yourself out too much for any extracurriculars.” But she flipped open the button of her jeans, unzipped, and despite his arms feeling like jelly, he helped her pull them off.

  Her phone dropped out of her pants and he bent to pick it up. He handed it to her, but her eyes were closed, one arm flung over her face, chest moving up and down in steady, even breathing.

  He kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep, honey.”

  “No, I want to...” She made a kind of humming noise, her head sinking deeper in the pillow, and then she was out.

  As much as he would rather have ended the night on a slightly different note, this was good, too. Because Tess was in his bed, and she knew that even if they weren’t at the future, he was interested in it.

  He walked to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth, setting Tess’s phone on the nightstand as he passed. The screen lit up. A word in the illuminated text stopped him in his tracks.

  1 missed call from County Jail.

  The urge to go into her phone and erase evidence of that call was so huge, the only thing that stopped him was the fact that when he swiped his finger across the screen it asked for a passcode and he didn’t have a clue. He wasn’t going to try and guess her password.

  That was too much. Besides, it could be for work. But they would have left a message. If it had been a collect call from a prison, though, leaving a message wouldn’t have been an option.

  Marc took a step away from the phone. And then another. This wasn’t his business, and she wouldn’t like it if he tried to tell her what to do. Tried to interfere and erase something from her phone.

  Crossing a line. He didn’t want to cross lines with Tess. He wanted to give her what she wanted.

  What about what you want?

  Funny it was Tess’s voice in his head saying that. Funny it was the first time he couldn’t manage to get what he wanted out of his head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  TESS WOKE UP to an empty bed and sunlight streaming on her face. At first she thought maybe Marc was at work, but she quickly remembered he had the day off.

  She smiled. Her first thought on waking up had been wondering where he was, knowing she was in his apartment. Things had gone so fast, she supposed she should have some worry, but it was rare. The worry only popped up when he closed himself off.

  She stretched and snuggled into the bed. Good. Good. Enjoying the good. Maybe he’d gone for a run or something. She glanced at the clock. Almost nine. Wow, she’d slept in. Considering she’d conked out last night before they could even end the evening properly.

  She would have to make it up to him this morning. Humming to herself, she got out of bed. She crossed to Marc’s dresser, a weird giddy feeling centering itself in her stomach. Without much discussion or commentary, they’d moved some of her clothes and whatnot over to his place after Stumpf had retrieved her keys the other night.

  Which made her think of the party last night and Marc saying if things got to the legal part of a relationship, he’d step down from BCPD. It made her feel warm and fuzzy and teary all over again.

  What was she supposed to do with that? A man who would do all these things for her. It defied reason.

  She grabbed some clothes, but her phone buzzed before she could head for the bathroom. She frowned, trying to figure out where it was until the sound drew her to the nightstand.

  She glanced at the screen.

  Incoming call: County Jail.

  It could be for work. It could be unconnected to the call she’d received at the party last night—she’d never even looked at who that had been from. This could all be so innocuous and unimportant and the diving feeling in her gut could be...paranoia.

  Her finger hovered over Accept. Even if it was Dad, that didn’t mean she had to listen. Or had to not listen. Maybe it was important. Maybe he needs you.

  Someone cleared his throat and Tess turned to see Marc standing in the bedroom doorway.

  He looked so grave. As if he could see the screen and read her mind. As if he knew every weak thought, every desperate word telling her to help, to fix this.

  His expression went blank as the phone stopped buzzing. “I made breakfast,” he said simply.

  “Okay,” she said, wincing that it was a whisper and not a breezy morning greeting.

  “I’ll get you some ibuprofen.”

  “No, it’s—” But he’d already disappeared out into the main part of the apartment.

  Hold on to the good. Fight for the good. God, she was tired of fighting for every little thing. She liked the easy. So much of what they had was easy. Why couldn’t it stay that way?

  Not how life works.

  Steeling herself for, well, life, Tess grabbed her clothes and went through the shower. If she practiced a few speeches to tell Marc what was what, well, so be it.

  Of course, when she entered the kitchen he was blank as ever and overall pleasant. “I made French toast.”

  “Wow, that seems very unlike you.” When his mouth quirked up, she sighed. “You somehow made it healthy, didn’t you?”

  “Sit. Eat. Take the painkillers.”

  “It’s feeling a lot better today,” she said, allowing him to nudge her toward the table. She sat and he placed a plate with French toast and two little pills in front of her. Followed by a glass of orange juice.

  Then he squeezed her shoulder and kissed her temple. “I’
m very glad to hear it.”

  How could this be any more perfect? It was picture-perfect. Hot guy making her breakfast. Taking care of her. Caring about her.

  But the blank expression somehow ruined it. How did he do that? Make everything seem wrong when it should feel absolutely right.

  “I didn’t answer.”

  He paused whatever he was doing in the kitchen before grabbing his own plate and sliding across from her. “It was from the jail again?”

  “Again?”

  He looked down at his plate. “I picked up your phone last night. I happened to see...”

  So it was Dad. Had to be.

  “Tess.”

  She looked up to find him staring at her intently. “It’s probably him, but...I didn’t answer. So...” So what? She’d thought about it. Considered it. Might have if Marc hadn’t cleared his throat. So there were no sos. Not really.

  “Tess. I think...” He looked down at his plate, then rubbed his hands over his face. He was certainly emoting right now. Frustration and a controlled kind of anger.

  “Say it. Say whatever you’re feeling. Please say it.” Because she wanted this moment to feel real, not like some scene out of a movie. Even if it ended up being bad. She needed some honesty.

  “Don’t ever answer it. Let it ring forever. Because, Tess, that man is a monster, and I’ll be damned if I stand around and let him put his hands on you again.”

  In the blink of an eye, she wished for the movie, the blank, because that was the last damn thing she wanted to hear.

  * * *

  MARC PUSHED AWAY from the table. He couldn’t stand to look at the disappointment on Tess’s face. That, that right there, was why he didn’t share every feeling, every past mistake, every thought.

  People didn’t like to know. People didn’t want to know unless it agreed with what they felt. He should have kept his mouth shut, pretended everything was fine. Accepted his role as second in her life.

  He did it so well with his family. They never had a clue. Except, well, maybe Leah a little bit, but still. Still. He needed to get better at all this acting.

  “He’s... What he did was wrong, but he’s not a monster. He’s sick.”