Remembering You: Pushing the Boundaries, Prequel

by Audra North

  They’d talked for hours through the curtain, until he’d finally drifted off to sleep as the sun was starting to come up. He’d woken up a few hours later to find he’d been wheeled into a different room, alone except for one of his fellow officers stationed outside the door, barring entry to the swarm of reporters trying to get a piece of him. Rhonda the nurse had told him they would have kept him in the shared room, since he’d been sleeping so peacefully, but the press had started to get too invasive. To protect him and the patient whose room he’d been sharing, they’d had to move him.

  But in doing so—by protecting him and her from the fucking media hounds—they’d taken her away from him completely.

  He hadn’t asked her who she was while they’d been talking for all those hours. Somehow, the small details of name, job or even the neighborhoods they lived in hadn’t come up. And by the time he’d been up and about, she was long gone from the hospital.

  He had debated, back then, whether to ask one of the nurses to find out her name, or at least tell him why she was in the hospital. But not only was that a breach of her privacy—and it would make him feel like a jerk for asking when he knew it wasn’t right—he also didn’t want to risk anyone’s job should one of the nurses actually tell him. He didn’t want his job winning him favors he didn’t deserve.

  But not a day had gone by in which he hadn’t thought about her. He’d wondered about her constantly. Who she was, why she was alone and how she got to be so understanding, funny and strong at the same time. Things he’d known simply from listening to her stories, hearing her speak. Sometime he wondered if he might be able to pick her out of a lineup by voice alone.

  Too bad he’d never get the chance.

  Fucking journalists.

  Ben was jerked out of his daydream by the sound of a car door opening. Right. He had an accident to take care of—one he’d caused. He sighed, then leaned over and grabbed his license and insurance information and opened his own door, sliding all six-foot-one of himself out of his car and onto the asphalt of the parking lot.

  The air was chilly this early, with the bite of early October characteristic of the climate of the Northeast. Even in the city, the wind was starting to pick up.

  He glanced at the hood of his car, which was fully intact. Thank God.

  Then he stepped slowly around the Range Rover, assessing the damage he’d done to the other car. The bumper had a deep dent in the middle, and there were some paint scratches, but it didn’t look like he’d messed up the rear door, at least.

  He poked his head around the driver’s side.

  And paused.

  Legs a mile long, capped off by a round, tight ass were sticking out of the car, a woman’s upper body leaning into the cab. Ben couldn’t tell what she was doing in there, but he sure as hell appreciated the resulting view. She wore gray leggings and black knee-high boots, with some kind of off-white colored top thin enough to be a little bit see-through.

  It looked damned sexy. And expensive.

  With an outfit like that, driving a nice car, she was probably a wealthy brat who would lay into him and make him—well, the insurance company, anyway—pay for every last nick.

  He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat.

  The rest of the woman’s body emerged slowly from the cab, like a photo being revealed in pieces. Light silky top floating around her, caressing the curves of her breasts. A curling end of shining, dark brown hair skimming her collarbone. She wore sunglasses, and he couldn’t see her eyes, but he guessed she was probably in her late twenties or early thirties, with a somewhat sharp chin softened by full pink lips turned up in a—smile?

  Why was she smiling at him when he’d just hit her car?

  Shit. Maybe she had hit her head against the steering wheel and was suffering brain trauma. “Are you okay?” he barked, and when her smile dropped, he softened his tone. “I mean, are you injured?”

  The woman laughed, and the hairs on the back of Ben’s neck rose. Her voice sounded familiar. Almost like the woman from that night…the one he’d let slip away…

  No. Couldn’t be. Given how attractive she was, he probably wished she were the unseen woman who had been his confidante for a few hours, years ago. He was a fool. The real woman was probably married with a kid by now. Maybe she already had been even back then.

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. Are you hurt anywhere?”

  Her face dipped slightly, and he could feel her gaze even through the darkened lenses of her glasses, running over his body. Blood rushed to his groin, surprising him with his reaction. He shifted his stance and rolled his shoulders. The right one was still a little stiff, especially in the mornings, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

  Her slow perusal of his body, on the other hand…well, better get those hidden eyes back on his face before she spotted the growing bulge in his pants.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m glad to hear you’re okay. And I’m really sorry about causing this accident. I was…distracted,” he finished lamely. Yeah, right. If he were an officer who had arrived to assess the scene right now, “distracted” certainly wouldn’t cut it as an explanation for why he had rear-ended her car.

  But she shrugged, not bothering to press him for details. “It happens. How are the cars?”

  So he’d been wrong about her being a brat. She was actually being more than reasonable about the fender bender. He jerked his head in the direction of the back of the SUV. “Dented. Why don’t we have a look?”

  He hoped she wouldn’t start flipping out once she saw the damage. But at this point, he didn’t think she would. Once he got a chance to talk to someone, his assessment was usually spot-on.

  Except when it comes to romantic relationships.

  After Tania, he had dated only a couple of women, both of whom were completely wrong for him. One of them flirted with every other officer on the force, every chance she got, and Ben finally discovered her in a bar one night, kissing a cop from another town. The fellow police officer hadn’t known she was taken, and had apologized profusely when Ben showed up and broke up with her on the spot. Ben hadn’t needed to hear the apology from the other guy. Some women had a thing for cops. He had been just another uniform to her.

  The other one he had dated had been way too young. Eight years younger than him. He was thirty-two now, for chrissakes. He was ready to find the right woman, settle down and have the kind of loving, lasting relationship his parents did. He wasn’t built for going out clubbing and cliff diving like she’d been.

  But no one else had tempted him for the past few months, and he’d never been able to completely forget the nameless woman he’d shared a night with in a hospital three years ago. At this rate, he’d probably go to his grave dreaming a disembodied voice was his soul mate.

  He turned and moved back behind the car. The woman followed him closely, and Ben caught a whiff of a scent unlike anything he’d ever smelled. It was spicy, conjuring up images of hot, foreign lands and desert caravans.

  He wondered what she would smell like if he put his nose to the bare skin of her breasts.

  Shit. He shouldn’t have thought that. A rush of arousal attacked him, making him shift a bit to accommodate the sudden discomfort in his pants. He had stopped behind the bumper now and was looking down at the damage, trying to avoid staring at the woman.

  She followed his gaze, then whistled. “Quite a dent.” But then she laughed. “Do we have a matching set?”

  He couldn’t resist an answering smile. She really was easygoing about everything. So different from the women he usually had in his life.

  He liked it.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her voice, either. The more she spoke, the more familiar it became. It was so soothing, but teasing at the same time, like the woman in the hospital had sounded. Once again, he wondered…

  He shook his head. No. Not
possible.

  “Surprisingly, my car is fine,” he answered, giving her a wry look.

  “Figures.”

  Okay. Good. So now we’ve looked at the damage. Now let’s exchange information and be on our way so I won’t have to keep fighting an erection.

  But then she pushed her sunglasses up on her head, and he actually sucked in a breath at the sight of her eyes. Beautiful. Heavily lashed, perfectly shaped.

  She was fucking gorgeous.

  Get it together, man. Just last week, you led a drug bust with no officer casualties. They call you a machine, for fuck’s sake, and you’re losing it over a woman’s eyes.

  First a voice, then some eyes. Eventually, he would manage to fall in love with an entire woman.

  He cleared his throat and looked away from her again. “So do you want me to call the police?” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tried not to groan. The guys were never going to let him live this down, but it was the right thing to do.

  To his surprise, the woman waved away his question. “No need for police. Neither of us is injured, and it’s only minor damage.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You sure?”

  She laughed and pulled her sunglasses back down over those lovely eyes. He felt a pang of disappointment they were covered up again.

  “I’m sure. Let’s exchange insurance information and it’ll be enough.”

  He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to push it, but finally nodded. “I’ve got my license and the policy information right here.” He held up his hand, the paper flapping. “I don’t suppose you have a pen and paper?”

  She grinned at him and handed him a page torn out of a notebook. “You can use the bottom half of this.”

  He took the paper from her and read it. Josephine Lang, it said, followed by her phone number and insurance company information. She’d already written everything down. That was probably what she’d been doing when he came upon her bending over the front seat.

  He respected efficiency. And in a woman like this, it was downright arousing. But she wasn’t a stranger anymore. She was Josephine Lang. Josephine. Hmm. It didn’t quite suit her. Almost…but not quite.

  Ben frowned. Whatever. It didn’t matter.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lang—” he began, but she cut him off.

  “It’s Miss. And please call me Nina.”

  Nina. Yeah. The nickname definitely fit her. He shifted the paper to his left hand and held out his right. “I’m Ben Crewes.”

  She put her hand in his…and fuck if it wasn’t exactly like in the movies, because for a moment—the barest whisper of a breath—the world stopped turning. He froze, the feel of her warm fingers in his the only thing he could focus on for an infinitesimal marking of time before she squeezed his hand lightly and pulled hers away.

  His arm dropped heavily to his side, as though it had simply died when she removed her touch.

  Freaky. Ben felt like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. He’d never had such a reaction to a woman.

  She turned back toward the driver’s side of her car. “I’ll go grab the pen for you.”

  Thank God she was walking away for a minute.

  First the voice, and then her touch had affected him deeply. And she was gorgeous, on top of it. Tall too. Maybe five-foot-nine? He had been able to talk to her without bending his head down.

  He needed a moment to get the wild, beating arousal to cool down a little.

  Chill out, man. Just write down your info, get back in your car and get to work.

  He had a shitload of reports to follow up on today. At least it would mean some downtime away from the frantic pace of fieldwork.

  She returned, holding out the pen to him, but paused. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Her concerned tone made him frown. “Really, I’m fine. Why?”

  “You looked a little pained. Just want to be certain.”

  God, her voice. Why did it sound so right? Was he trying too hard to make her into the woman he’d been looking for all these years?

  Must be. It was too good to be true.

  He nodded. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll jot this all down and be on my way.” He moved to the trunk of his sedan and tore the paper in half, then started copying his own information down.

  Nina stood silently and looked out into the parking lot while he wrote, and when he finished, he handed her the piece of paper and her pen. “Well, again, I’m really sorry. Please do call if you change your mind and want to file a police report.” And then, because for some reason he felt it would be misleading if he didn’t tell her, he added, “I can help you take care of it, since I’m a cop.”

  She froze, the smile sliding off her face for an instant.

  She recovered quickly, but not before he’d seen the strange look cross her face. Almost like she felt as though she’d been betrayed.

  That was ridiculous. Telling her he was a cop wasn’t like saying, Surprise! You’re under arrest for being way too beautiful! He was the one in the wrong, and he wanted to be honest. Why had it upset her? And she was upset—he could tell. She was smiling again, but now those beautiful lips were tight, and her jaw was tense. She was faking it.

  She’s not the kind of woman who would ever fake it in bed, though.

  He stiffened. Damn, she was doing something to him. He hadn’t been this interested in a woman since the one who had been nothing more than sound waves in a hospital room. And now he was fighting a near-painful erection inspired by someone whose car he had dented?

  He needed help.

  “Well, thanks! I’m sure our insurance agents will be in touch with one another. Drive safe!” she chirped, her stilted falsetto sounding ridiculous after her free-flowing, easy conversation until now.

  He shrugged and waved as she disappeared around the driver’s side. “Sure, uh, sorry again. Bye,” he called, even as he heard her car door shut. The Range Rover’s engine started up and Ben moved to his own car, leaning against the trunk as she backed out carefully.

  He gave her a wave as she pulled out and headed toward the exit. She gave a small salute in return, then she was off, the SUV completely out of sight within seconds. But he stood in the parking lot for a few more minutes, watching the road. He couldn’t shake the strange feeling she had been running away from him.

  And he couldn’t help but feel like he had lost an important opportunity.

  He shrugged. Maybe it was time to meet another woman. Even if the next girl he dated wasn’t the one he would spend the rest of his life with, it would at least do him some good to get laid. It had been nearly a year. Imagining some strange woman was the one he’d thought about for three years, and getting a hard-on in a parking lot over her—a woman who seemed to dislike police officers, no less!—wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be in his romantic life.

  He sighed and pushed off the trunk of his car. He folded the piece of paper with her information and put it in his wallet, got into his car and headed to work, his mind now crowded with thoughts of two women whom he’d never see again.

  Chapter Three

  What a shit day.

  Nina practically ran out of the main doors of Excelsior Media, desperate to get away from all the crushing bureaucracy. Her first day back in a desk job after more than two years traveling the globe, writing hard-hitting reports on human rights atrocities around the world, and she was already on the verge of quitting.

  She’d wanted to cover the drug bust that had just gone down in the city. It was the most interesting local story they had right now. Exciting news with national implications. She’d grown up in Greenbriar and the recent breakup of a big drug dealing ring was shocking, even in this city of half a million people. She would have happily reported on it without feeling like she had come down too far, even if it did mean she’d have to interact with a lot of policemen. Sh
e usually didn’t like covering cop stories.

  You wouldn’t have minded covering the cop from this morning.

  Ben Crewes. Even after she’d found out he was on the force, she’d still been unable to control the desire pumping through her from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, standing by her car. And when he’d opened his mouth and in his low, gruff voice had asked whether she was okay, the need to get his clothes off had nearly knocked her speechless. She’d never been so attracted, so fast, to a man like this, to the point where she was ready to get naked with a complete stranger in a Denny’s parking lot.

  It wasn’t solely his tough-guy good looks—light brown hair worn short, deep brown eyes, a well-defined nose to match his angular jaw, and a blue button-down shirt hugging broad shoulders and a trim waistline. His looks had definitely gotten her attention, but it had been his reserved but polite demeanor that had pulled her in.

  A guy who could keep his cool in what could have been a tense encounter was sexy as hell to Nina. His attitude had struck the perfect balance between nonchalance and real concern for her welfare. It—he—had felt oddly familiar, somehow.

  It wasn’t until that she was back in the car, driving away from him, that she’d realized why. He had been the one to lead the drug ring bust. She’d read about him from the reports that had come in to Excelsior.

  Of course, she’d never actually met him before. This strange feeling of closeness that went beyond recognizing his name meant nothing. She definitely would have remembered a man who looked like he did. But talking to him had made her feel good, just the same. She couldn’t figure out why, but something in her also wanted to protect this big, muscled man from harm. There was just something about him that pulled at her.

  Not to mention that she definitely wouldn’t have minded stripping down and riding him in the backseat of the Rover.