by Cecy Robson
Declan returns to scribbling on his pad. “That sounds like a great idea. In fact, take her on a getaway—make a long weekend out of it. My big case—you know the one I’ve been working on for months—it doesn’t start on Monday or anything.”
“Declan, come on. You’re ready—I know you are.”
“That’s not the point, Curran.” He tosses his pen aside. “Montenegro and his team are ready, too. If something comes up, I may need her help.”
“Then call her at my place. We’ll both head back here, to your apartment, or wherever you want us.” I mean to sound relaxed, but in truth, I’m worried about my girl. Her finals wore her out, and she’s still waiting on grades for three classes. Yet despite her stress and the demands of finishing law school, she’s helped Declan with all the last-minute legal shit he’s needed.
What bugs me, too, is how quiet she’s been since I arrived. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. At first I thought maybe her chicken-neck father was causing trouble. She denied it in the few seconds I managed to get her alone, but she can’t seem to meet me square in the eye.
“What’s up?” I whisper in her ear.
She shifts uncomfortably in my lap, and keeps her arms crossed in front of her. “Later, okay?” she says quietly, her attention trailing in the direction from which Declan’s eyeing us.
Tess wants me to drop things, but the worry shadowing her beautiful face tells me I shouldn’t. “You know, Deck, the reason you’re prepared is because your sexy intern here has worked her ass off—making up for all the help you could’ve gotten if you’d only asked. She’s tired—she’s had a rough week. Just give her the night off. We’ll be back tomorrow—sooner if you really need us.”
“A lot could change,” he mutters.
“Between now and the time it takes to get back to my place? Come on, weren’t you the same guy who told me yesterday that you were ready to make Montenegro and his entire family your bitches?” I frown when he doesn’t answer. “What’s changed? And why the hell are you pissed?”
Declan considers me for a beat, his face tightening. “We’ve heard that Montenegro will put hits on his attorney’s family if he loses this case,” he answers. “His attorney denies it, but if there’s any truth to it, I’m going to have a lot more to deal with than just this case.”
I hear the unease in his voice, and what goes unsaid. My hold on Tess turns protective. “More reason to put this asshole and his cronies away for life.”
“I know. He thinks he’s untouchable.” His voice hardens. “We’ll see how he feels when I send him to prison to rot.”
The silence grows an edge that matches my brother’s tone. If most DAs are pit bulls, Declan is a damn bull. His horns are out, ready to ram anyone in his path and toss their limp bodies aside.
His eyes cut to Tess. She’s quiet, barely moving. Like me, he senses her exhaustion and maybe something more. “Tess, you can have the rest of the night off. I’ll call if I need you.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, straightening.
For her not to argue rubs me and Deck the wrong way. We exchange glances. Yeah, something’s definitely brewing. Declan nods. “I’m sure. Besides, I think I know where I can find you.”
Her face turns that bright shade of pink I can’t get enough of. I laugh and nibble behind her ear.
Declan rolls his eyes. “Jesus, Curran, what are you, twelve? Get a damn room.”
“If I were twelve this shit would be illegal,” I fire back.
“Christ” is his response.
A knock at the door shuts us up and sends Tess scrambling off my lap. She reaches for her discarded law journal and fumbles through the pages while Declan resumes his DA pose. The annoyance eases from his face, replaced by the neutral demeanor of a consummate professional. I chuckle, seeing as I know better.
Miles Fenske’s voice booms from the other side of the door. “Declan? May I come in? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Declan sits straighter and clasps his hands in front of him. “Of course, Miles, please enter.”
Miles strolls in first…followed by the hearing-impaired lady from the bistro Declan had crashed and burned with. Both she and Declan go stone still. But where the woman’s skin heats, and her scowl fixes on my brother, Declan’s face turns the color of ash.
Miles’s patient smile fades as his attention drifts between Declan and his companion. “Ah, this is my daughter, Melissa. She’s taking over as director of the Victim Services Unit.”
It’s then I completely crack up, whipping around to face Declan. “Oh, shit. This just gets better and better.”
The color in Declan’s face returns with a vengeance, his warning glare to shut the hell up trained my way. Being who I am, I continue to laugh. Tess glances between Melissa and Declan, her obvious confusion matching the puzzled look etched into Miles’s face. “I take it you’ve met?” Miles asks.
Declan, the Wizard of Words, the Count of Couth, doesn’t have shit to say. Melissa? She says a lot, but says it with her hands, signing furiously. This is the man you wanted me to meet? The one you’re so fond of—the one you want for your replacement?
Miles signs back, attempting to keep the conversation private. But I can understand sign language well enough. Yes, Miles says in his motions. Why are you so angry?
Because he’s an asshole, she signs back.
My laugh draws their attention, both of them frowning at me. I smirk and sign back, He’s not so bad. His heart is good, even when his mouth is saying otherwise.
My motions are crude, seeing how I don’t practice the language much, but they seem to understand. Melissa cocks her head. I have her attention now. You understand American Sign Language? she asks.
Of course. I’m not just good looks and personality.
The tension lifts at Miles’s smile, and Melissa’s, too. He places his hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to turn so she can read his lips. “This is Declan’s brother, Curran. He’s a police officer like your grandfather.” He looks past her to me. “Melissa damaged her hearing devices and is in need of replacements. Being as busy as she is, she keeps postponing her evaluation with her audiologist.”
Melissa keeps her focus on me, choosing to sign instead of speak. I have the feeling she’s more comfortable communicating this way, but I also think she’s trying to get a handle on me. How long have you wanted to be a police officer?
Since forever, I respond.
She knits her brows, moving her hands fast. Then why not learn Spanish, since it would be more helpful in your line of work?
I already knew Spanish. I pause, trying to remember the word for “Cuban,” but end up subbing it with words I do know. I grew up in a neighborhood mixed with Spanish-speaking families. I learned a lot through them, enough to be fluent, so when I had to pick a language in college, I picked American Sign Language. I liked it enough to keep at it. I pause again. Plus, all the hot girls took American Sign Language. It helped me get dates.
Miles and Melissa laugh out loud. Dates or laid? Melissa questions.
I chuckle. She’s not shy around her old man, and her question doesn’t seem to surprise him. Maybe a little of both, I admit.
They laugh again. They like me. Declan…not so much.
“What did you just say?” he asks through clenched teeth.
I lower my hands and grin. “We’re just talking about what an asshole you are.”
Miles surprises me by laughing. “My apologies, Declan,” he says, trying to placate Declan’s growing resentment. “I assure you, your brother was quick to come to your defense. Melissa and I were simply surprised to find him so fluent in American Sign Language.” He gestures to his daughter. “It seems she’s quite taken by his charm.”
Declan squares his jaw. “I can see that. He’s a real pip, isn’t he?”
He means “prick,” but I’ll take the compliment. Melissa keeps her smile, and her attention, on me. It’s then Tess who steps forward and off
ers Melissa her hand, luring her attention, and smiling in a way that tells me she’s more than a little pissed at my charm.
“Hi, I’m Tess Newart. The law clerk assigned to help Declan.”
Melissa shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. Please, call me Melissa.”
Her voice is slightly garbled, which tells me she’s been hearing impaired likely since birth. But she’s clear enough to understand, just like she was when she ripped into Declan at the restaurant.
Something in her genuine smile eases Tess’s annoyance; so does the wink I send Tess’s way. Melissa is one of those classic beauties: thick dark hair, brown eyes, creamy skin, soft pink lips, and one hell of a figure. But Tess is my girl, and she has nothing to worry about.
Melissa doesn’t miss the wink or our obvious connection. She smiles, although I catch a trace of disappointment before she glances away and reaches into her purse. “Here. This is for you.” She hands Tess a new smart phone. “The pass code is 2-2-2-2. Please change it to something you’ll remember. The phone number is listed in the contacts section under ‘My phone.’ You may use the phone as long as you’re part of the office, but I’ll need it returned when your assignment is done.”
“Thank you so much.”
Melissa smiles again. “No problem. Do you have the other phone? I’ll have it recycled along with our old ones.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Tess answers, reaching for her purse.
Melissa stares past Tess to where Miles and Declan are speaking quietly. “I should head back to my office, Dad. I still have a lot to catch up on.”
Miles turns his focus back on her, disappointed, but also something more. “I was hoping to steal you and Declan away for a quiet dinner.”
Melissa takes the phone Tess offers her, looking directly at Declan. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she answers, her voice firm.
Miles tilts his chin. “Very well. Dinner tomorrow, then? Just you and me?”
She tears her attention away from Declan, her face softening as she takes in her old man. “Depends—are you cooking or buying?”
“Buying,” he tells her.
“In that case, yes.” She’s just slightly taller than Tess, but still has to stand on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Good night, Daddy,” she says.
Daddy? Oh, yeah, these two are tight. My attention returns to Declan in time to watch him bury his pained expression in his hands. It’s all I can do not to crack up again.
Melissa waves to me and disappears through the door. Miles crosses his arms over his chest, his typical laid-back disposition dissolving in his daughter’s absence. “Contessa, Curran, will you excuse us, please? I’d like to discuss the Montenegro case with Declan.” He pauses, his deep tone turning harsh. “Among other things,” he adds, stiffly.
Chapter 26
Tess
Curran can’t stop laughing on the drive back to his apartment. His recap of Declan and Melissa’s first encounter, and now their reunion, has him in stitches. I sit here, horrified on his brother’s behalf. “Of all people he could have insulted, it had to be Miles Fenske’s daughter.”
“I know,” he answers, continuing to laugh. “It was like karma and Murphy’s Law hooked up and decided to screw with Declan. Holy shit, can you believe his damn luck?”
“No, and—” I tug on his arm. “Will you stop laughing? It’s not funny.”
“Considering what a kiss-ass Deck is, it kind of is.”
“Curran, what he did was awful.”
“Come on, it’s not like he meant it. For all that Deck is or isn’t, he’s not cruel. He’s a good guy. Knowing him, he’ll make it up to her and be back in Miles’s good graces in no time.”
I don’t agree. “Curran, did you see how close Miles and Melissa are? Or catch her reaction upon seeing Declan again? I don’t see either forgetting the incident so easily.” I consider the way Miles regarded his daughter. He adores her in a way that’s completely foreign to me. My eyes sting. Despite my father’s abuse, I hope I can somehow become the parent I’ve always wanted…especially now that the time has come.
Curran pulls into the lot and parks, slamming the emergency brake down when he sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
I let out a breath, trying to compose myself. I’ve been a mess since this morning when the giant blue plus sign confirmed my pregnancy results. My first instinct was to phone Curran at the precinct, but this is news I couldn’t share through a call or text.
“Tess, what is it? And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong, ’cause it damn well is.”
I take another breath as I watch the oncoming guard park across from us. “Inside, okay?”
Curran throws open the door and slams it shut behind him. He hurries to my side, but I can’t wait, knowing I’m moments from breaking down. The stress of my week coupled with the news that I’m pregnant is too much.
I swing open the door and leap out, rushing past him and toward the back doors. Curran catches up to me, but he waits to speak until I hit the door to the elevator. “You’re freaking me out. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I shake my head. I mean to tell him to please wait, and to give me a moment, but I know if I speak now, I’ll only cry. He places his arm around me and kisses my head. “Baby,” he says.
His choice of words makes me clasp my mouth to hold back my sobs. Good God, I can’t believe this is happening.
Curran doesn’t say anything more until we reach his apartment and he’s shut the door tight. Despite the tears blurring my vision, I make it to the couch and sit. He lowers himself beside me. For all his distress, he keeps his voice quiet. “Is this about your dad? Did he do something to you? You need to come clean and tell me what he did.”
“It’s not about him,” I assure him. At least, not yet. But I know Father would make it about him if he knew. “It’s about me.”
“Are you sick? Jesus, don’t tell me you’re sick.”
I clutch his hand when he reaches for me. “I’m not sick, Curran.”
“Then what could be so bad? Did you get your grades?”
I nod, grateful for the momentary distraction. “I received them a few hours ago. I didn’t think my final debate went well, but my professor emailed me to tell me I received the highest score in my class.” I release a shaky breath. “In fact, I excelled in all my exams and made high honors.”
Curran’s entire face lights up before he seizes me in a tight embrace. “Holy shit.”
I cry against his chest, my fear, excitement, and shock releasing all at once. “The head of the department emailed earlier to congratulate me, and to inform me that I’m graduating in the top three percent of my class.”
“Tess, that’s awesome. I’m so proud—”
“And I’m pregnant.”
It’s as if he dies, right there against me. Curran doesn’t move, nor does he breathe.
The burden of my secret releases every emotion burning its way into my heart. I don’t have a best friend to confide in, or a mother to speak to. The only person I have is Curran.
I wait for words of comfort that never come, or possibly even disappointment and anger. But in the silence-filled minutes that pass, I start to fear the worst. Very carefully, I inch away to meet his eyes.
Curran doesn’t meet me with his “cop” face. He’s not angry. Isn’t sad. Isn’t anything. He simply sits there, blinking, his expression absent of any emotion.
I clasp his hands as they fall away from me, squeezing them to remind him that I’m still here. He doesn’t squeeze back. His hands simply lie as unmoving as the rest of him. I allow them to slip from my grasp and release yet another breath. “I need you to say something.”
He swallows hard. “I thought you were on the Pill.”
I lift my glasses and wipe a tear away with my fingertips. “Okay. That wasn’t it.”
He leans forward and rubs his eyes. “Sorry, I just…How did this happen?”
I stand and start pacing. “We’ve had a lot of sex, Curran
. There’s a reason the Pill is considered only ninety-nine percent effective.” Not to mention, my periods were always irregular. When I missed one, I didn’t think much of it. But when I missed it again…
I glance back at him. “Okay…okay,” he answers. I think he’s going to say more, but once again, the silence stretches between us.
The seconds turn to minutes before he speaks again. “I think I can switch to full-time nights when I’m back on the force and make more money. I say you snag a job right away. We’ll bank everything you make, along with the extra I’ll pull in. But when the kid comes, I want you home. A year, maybe longer if we plan it right.”
He rubs his jaw, appearing to think aloud. “I can probably get enough from the sale of this place to buy us a house outright—it’ll be small, but leave us enough to invest in that parking deck me and my brothers plan to buy. Between the revenue it’ll bring in, and my job, we’ll eventually get a bigger place and still have a good sum to retire on.”
He glances out the window. “I want something with a big yard so he can run around, and I can teach him to play catch—or her. Wren has a great throwing arm—why not a girl, too, right?”
This time, it’s my turn to simply stare. I can barely find my words. “Ah, right.”
Curran closes the short expanse separating us, laughing a little. “Ma’s going to lose her mind—seeing how this here’ll be the first grandkid. Thing is, we’ll need to find something pretty quick so I can get the nursery ready. Paint it. That sort of thing.” He stops talking when he gets his first good look at me. “Why you crying?”
I shake my hands out. “I’m that girl.”
He places his hands on my hips and draws me to him. “What girl?”
“The one who gets knocked up.”
He grins. “And I’m the hot stud boyfriend who did the knocking up.”