Tangled Hearts

by Barbara McMahon

  They took a table, moving one of the chairs so the wheel chair fit. The waitress quickly appeared, took their order and left.

  He leaned back in his chair, all casual male animal. His long legs stretched out before him, he regarded her with a lazy, possessive air. “You’re pretty when you get worked up about something,” he said unexpectedly.

  Brianna’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened and she stared at him. He carried himself with such a don’t-give-a-damn attitude, he was almost scary. But she never feared him— only her own reactions and feelings around him.

  Now watching him stare at her caused her heart to race. She wanted to fling herself into his lap and hold on for dear life. The image of their kisses the other night sprang into her mind. Unconsciously she licked her lips. His gaze was drawn to her mouth and slowly he sat up, reached over and brushed her damp lips with the pad of his thumb. Cupping her chin with his palm, he rubbed her lips again.

  Brianna felt the touch to her toes. Every cell quivered to attention. Butterflies danced in her stomach. Her gaze was captured by his and she couldn’t look away. She knew he’d see the love residing deep within her, but there was nothing she could do to conceal that. He already knew, so what did it matter?

  He knew and it changed nothing.

  “You’re dangerous to be around.” His voice was so low she had to strain to hear.

  “Why?” A whisper only, but she hadn’t the strength to speak aloud. Bonded to Jake by the touch of his hand, by the caress of his thumb, she clutched the arms of the wheelchair tightly to keep herself from throwing her arms around his neck. They were in a public place, for heaven’s sake. She had to demonstrate a modicum of decorum.

  “Because you get a man thinking things he has no business thinking. Wishing for things that aren’t possible.” He released her and sat back, breaking eye contact as he scanned the bakery, looking for their waitress. Spotting her walking toward them, he kept his eyes on her.

  Brianna couldn’t look away. What had he meant?

  “Here you go, folks. A chocolate éclair, a brownie and two cups of coffee.” Placing the order on the table, the waitress smiled and turned away.

  Brianna didn’t want the sweet. She wanted to go home. She wanted them to be alone, where he could kiss her as if there was no tomorrow.

  “Change your mind?” he asked as she continued to stare at him, ignoring the éclair.

  “Let’s go home,” she said, her voice husky with emotion.

  His eyes locked on hers. Long moments slowly passed.

  “No,” he said briefly.

  She broke contact and reached for her fork. The éclair tasted like chalk. But she ate every bit of it. The coffee warmed her. She hadn’t realized how chilled she’d grown.

  Finally finished, she idly glanced around the bakery. The brightness of the day had faded. She was getting tired. Maybe she should go home and take a nap.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to work,” she said, not looking at him.

  “If you feel up to it.”

  “I do. But I’m tired now. We’ve gotten most of the things on the list. Can we go home? I want to take a nap before dinner.”

  She remembered from two years ago that sleep helped when she was depressed. It afforded an escape and for the moment was what she wanted most.

  “I still need to get some pictures.”

  “Another time, Jake. I’m tired.” She refused to meet his eyes.

  Brianna went straight to bed when she reached home. She slept until dinner, ate, then returned to her room. Reading, she tried to quell all thoughts of Jake until she finally fell asleep.

  The next morning, she dressed and was ready to leave for the campus in time for her first class. She didn’t speak as he drove her. The wheelchair had been left behind and she was relying on the cane. Her ankle was better today and her wrist barely ached.

  “I’ll walk you to class,” he said, pulling the car to a halt before the Tadlow Building. He put a placard in the window denoting law enforcement and came to open her door.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t want to admit she was just a bit nervous. Not that she was carrying anything anyone would want today, only her shoulder bag. Still, it would take a while for the uncertainty to fade.

  Jake not only walked her to her room, he sat in the back during the class, studying the students, watching Brianna.

  “You didn’t have to wait,” she said after the last student had left at the end of the hour.

  “I only had a couple of math courses in college. My major was criminology. But if I’d taken one of yours, I might have signed up for more. You make it sound so exciting, as if it’s the greatest subject in the world,” he said, ignoring her comment.

  “I like it,” she said stiffly.

  “It shows. And you make it come alive for these kids. I loved your example about the cattle ranch.”

  “So much of math is practical, but people don’t always realize it.”

  “So you make sure they do.”

  She nodded, pleased he liked her teaching technique.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised. You bring a lot of enthusiasm to everything you do,” he said thoughtfully.

  “For the most part, life is wild and wonderful. Why not express it?”

  “Yeah, why not? Where to next?”

  “I have a break for an hour, then another class. You really don’t have to hang around.”

  “I want to,” he said simply.

  Jake stayed with her all day Wednesday and Thursday. Friday was a free day, and she had him drop her off at her office and then leave. She needed to get caught up on all the administrative work involved with her job as well as redo the lost lesson plans. And she needed to do it alone. He was too distracting.

  Saturday he was gone most of the day. She longed to ask where he was going, but kept quiet. It was enough that he thought the danger had diminished by asking Mrs. Benson to stay with her. That woman would not be a match for the man in the stairwell. But nothing had happened in the last several days. Maybe the guy realized she didn't have what he wanted and he'd moved on.

  By six-thirty she was ready for the reception. She took off the bandage pleased the worst of the bruise and scrape was fading. The dress she chose was a warm, light woolen one, pale cream with a blue pattern that caught the color of her eyes. She had no choice of footwear, a flat pump for her right foot and a walking cast on her injured left foot.

  Mrs. Bensen let Jake in when he arrived. Brianna walked into the living room when she heard him. He looked gorgeous. The dark charcoal gray suit with a crisp white shirt and red tie made the perfect escort for the reception.

  “Wow,” she said softly,

  He frowned. “You ready?”

  She smiled and nodded slowly. “I think I'm changing my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “Because one look at you and everyone else will forget the guest of honor.”

  “Right. I’ll give it a miss if you want.”

  For a moment, she gave serious thought to staying home and spend the evening just the two of them.

  “Nonsense, she's spent effort getting ready. You two go and have fun,” Martha said, putting on her old jacket. “Good night, and have fun.”

  She left and Brianna smiled.

  “She's right, I really should attend. It’s good form, you know. And when I make professor, I want everyone to come to my party.”

  “Invite me when that event occurs. I’ll come,” he said, holding her heavy coat for her. He fastened it, ending with the button beneath her chin. Cupping her chin, he raised her face for a light kiss.

  The reception was in full swing when they arrived. Brianna greeted members of her department who were concerned about her recovery. Jake had his arm around her waist, half-holding her to minimize the weight on her ankle. She introduced him to everyone as they greeted others she knew.

  “Find a chair and sit. I’ll get you a drink,” he said, scanning the room.

  “Every t
ime we go anywhere, you check the place out as if you’re expecting a gang of terrorists. It’s creepy,” she said, gladly sitting at one of the small tables on the edge of the large room near a favorite fellow professor.

  Gerald Holcomb greeted her and sat beside her. One of the long-term professors in the mathematics department, Brianna was glad to have someone to talk to.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Jake asked both Brianna and the professor.

  Brianna took a soft drink merely to keep a straight head on her shoulders. She considered this still a business meeting.

  “I'm set,” Professor Holcomb said, raising a glass still full.

  To Brianna’s surprise, Jake returned with a drink for each of them. He sat on another chair at the table and listened to the conversation between Gerald and herself about new programs expected for freshmen. Jake gave no indication he wanted to move an inch.

  She wondered once or twice if he’d be bored with the conversation. It tended so often to gravitate toward university concerns.

  Probably cops talk shop when they got together, too.

  “…two errors, which I quickly corrected. Computers are fine, but only as accurate as the person entering the data,” Gerald Holcomb was saying.

  “Sorry, I missed the first part,” Brianna said. She needed to pay attention not worried Jake was enjoying himself.

  “I said I compared the computer-generated grade sheet with my own records and found two errors. Not that one student would have minded. His score and the others were reversed. It pays to double-check. Don’t you agree, Brianna?”

  “Yes, I do, actually. I’ve never found an error. Did the grades from last semester get posted?”

  “They were in the mail last week, Wednesday or Thursday, I think. I know I checked over the weekend.”

  Brianna gave Jake a telling glance.

  “My briefcase was stolen with the mail in it.”

  “I heard. Sorry about all that. You can get you a duplicate.”

  “Actually, I don’t have my notes, either. My office was broken into and trashed. When I got everything squared away, my lesson plans, final exams and grades were missing. I didn’t worry about it too much because I’d already turned in my grades.”

  Jake leaned over. “Tell me about the grading system. You send in the grades, the administration department keys them into a computer, then sends you a listing to verify accuracy?”

  Professor Holcomb nodded. “That’s right. The grades have already been posted, but it never hurts to double-check. If there are errors, we can catch them. As I did with these two young men.”

  “Brianna, were you missing your grades for your fall classes?”

  She nodded. “My grade book was stolen. But it didn’t matter since I had already turned in my grades.”

  “Could they be changed?”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Hackers can get into any computer,” Gerald said. “In fact, I believe those focusing in computer science almost consider it a rite of passage to break into the college computers. Usually they leave trick reports easily flagged as not real. But in my case, one of the students changed the grades.”

  Jake looked at Brianna. “Could someone have changed your grades in the college computer? Someone who then made sure you couldn't double-check?”

  “It’s possible,” Gerald Holcomb said before Brianna could answer.

  She nodded. It was possible.

  “Tomorrow we get a copy of the grades and you see which ones you remember. If any are glaringly different, we’ll have a starting point,” Jake said.

  “Good grief, Jake. I had over a hundred and fifty students. I can’t remember what grade each one earned.”

  “It’s worth looking at.”

  “I say, is this detective work?” Professor Holcomb asked excitedly.

  Brianna turned back to Gerald, exasperated. “Yes. I wanted to enjoy the reception, not think about this. Apparently policemen never leave their work.”

  “One of the hazards of the job,” Jake murmured.

  “You’re off duty tonight, detective. Enjoy yourself.”

  “I am.” His smiled at her and her heart began to race.

  Chapter Nine

  “I always wanted to be a detective. I remember once when I was a young man…”

  Brianna tuned out Gerald’s ramblings and let her gaze drift around the room, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything but Jake. Blast! She wished to give the appearance of being totally oblivious to him. If he guessed how he affected her, would his attentions escalate?

  He’d made it clear more than once that he wasn’t interested. At least not interested in what she wanted.

  Yet he continued to touch her, kiss her. He easily conversed with the professor and others who came by their table to greet her, not wanting her to have to stand on her injured ankle.

  Now his fingers seemed to have developed a will of their own. How could he calmly converse with the professor when his threaded through hers and focused her full attention on him? Her heartbeat was loud enough to be heard across the room.

  She was grateful when Susan Talbot joined them. At least Jake stood then and offered his seat, breaking contact, giving Brianna breathing room.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, Detective. We all wondered who Brianna brought with her. She usually comes to these things alone. But when I heard you were the one investigating the assault, well, I just had to come meet you and tell you we would all do anything to help.”

  Susan was of average height, yet next to Jake she looked almost petite. Her dark hair was cut short, her brown eyes were deep and sultry as she flirted provocatively.

  Brianna gritted her teeth. “Your mistake, Susan. Jake is not handling the investigation. He and I are longtime friends.”

  Jake glanced at her, his expression carefully neutral. Thoughtfully he nodded and turned back to Susan. “Brianna and I go back quite a while. Do you teach in the mathematics department, as well?”

  “Oh, no, I’m in anthro.” Susan smiled flirtatiously and then looked at Brianna. “You don’t mind if I take Jake and introduce him to everyone? I know you’re fairly immobile with that ankle. We’ll be right back.” Tucking her hand into his arm, she drew him across the room. Brianna was not so pleased with Susan after all. Not that she betrayed her emotions by even a flicker of her eyelids. For a moment, she watched to see how he fit in, meeting so many men and women from the college.

  The two life-styles were so different. Would he feel out of place?

  Slowly Brianna stood, leaning on the cane Martha had lent her. “Gerald, I’d like to mingle a bit. Would you walk around with me?”

  She refused to watch Jake any longer. He was a grown man and he could fend for himself. And she needed to fend for herself.

  Brianna congratulated Professor Sorenson on his promotion and met the new professor.

  She answered endless questions about her fall and the break-in of her office. She didn't tell everyone about her house and car. Speculation and gossip were rampant enough without that.

  It was clear everyone else thought, as Susan Standford had, that Jake was accompanying her for protection, and that he was investigating the case. It was an obvious conclusion.

  He was a policeman and she had not brought another man to any university affairs in over two years. When they’d been dating, she had been reluctant to share their time together. And then once he’d stopped calling, she hadn't wanted to spend her time with any other men.

  She limped slowly across the reception hall. Stopping beside Jake, she smiled at the small group discussing the latest science fiction film. He glanced at her, smiled and slipped his arm around her waist. Gratefully, Brianna leaned against him.

  When she was asked about the film, she had to reply, “I haven’t seen it yet.”

  She rarely went to the movies. She didn’t like going alone.

  “We could go tomorrow,” Jake murmured softly.

  “I thought you’ve s
een it,” she said, warmed by the offhand invitation.

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. Then I could see if Tyler's assessment of the hidden social implications is accurate.”

  “It is, Jake. Would I lead anyone astray?” The young assistant professor of sociology grinned engagingly.

  “Put it down to my suspicious nature. Cops like to investigate things on their own,” Jake responded.

  He looked at Brianna again. Taking in how tired she looked.

  “We’ve got to be going. It’s been a pleasure.” He eased her away from the group and toward the door.

  She walked beside him, leaning on him a bit more than earlier. Her ankle hurt, her wrist ached and her head had begun to pound.

  “You look exhausted.” He got her coat, slipped it on her and tilted up her face. “Have you visited enough?”

  “Yes. It's more tiring than I expected. At this rate, I won’t' be good for anything for weeks.”

  “You don't want to force it or you can put back your recovery.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Morgan, for your expert medical assessment of the situation.”

  “Mouthy.” He brushed his lips over hers, which effectively shut her up.

  Brianna wanted to look around to see who might have noticed, but she dared not. Better to ignore the gesture and leave with some dignity. She hoped everyone in the room was too busy with their own conversations to notice Jake’s kiss.

  In less than ten minutes, Jake pulled his car up in front of Brianna’s house. When he opened her door, he did not give her the chance to step out, but reached in and scooped her up.

  “Jake! I can walk.”

  “You’re tired. It’s a short way to the house.” By the time he finished talking, he’d reached her front stoop. Setting her gently on her feet, he waited as she found her key. Taking it from her cold fingers, he inserted it and opened the door. Gently he urged her inside and closed the door behind them.

  “I enjoyed meeting the people you work with on a social level,” he said.

  “Still think one of them is trying to steal my article idea?” she asked, shrugging out of her coat. She steadied herself against the wall. She was more tired than she realized.