The Lawman’s Nanny Op

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The Lawman’s Nanny Op Page 6

by Carla Cassidy


  She’d left for college and had only been gone a week when rumors began to circulate again about Caleb and Jayme and she didn’t give him another chance.

  Once a cheater, always a cheater, her mother would say. But her mother thought all men were cheaters and just needed the right opportunity to prove their vile natures.

  Now, after all these years, Portia found herself wondering what had really happened between Caleb and Jayme. With the benefit of age and maturity, she recognized how twisted things could get when delivered from gossipers.

  She also could admit that at eighteen years old her mother had been an enormous influence in her life and the memory of her cheating father had certainly played a role in her decision to kick Caleb to the curb.

  She frowned. Why was she thinking about all this now? She couldn’t go back and change the past and Caleb was only in her life now as the deputy trying to solve a crime.

  It was just after four when Layla dropped her off at her place. “You sure you’re going to be okay here alone?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

  “I’ll be fine,” Portia replied. “Caleb said he’d check in with me later and besides, I’m not going to be chased out of my own home by some boogeyman,” she added with a touch of false bravado.

  “You go, girl!” Layla exclaimed. “You know, I could get you a gun if you think you need one. One of my old beaus has a revolver.”

  “No, thanks,” Portia instantly exclaimed. “It would be just my luck that I’d shoot myself in the foot or somehow an intruder would get it away from me and use it on me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Call me later,” Layla said as Portia got out of the car.

  Portia waved as Layla pulled out of the driveway. The two women had been best friends since fifth grade, their friendship challenged by their differences and nurtured by their sameness.

  There had been no father in Portia’s life and Layla’s father had been a cold, critical man who had punched holes in Layla’s soul with harsh words, a backhand and a lack of love. They were holes Layla tried to fill by jumping into bed and into relationships with men too quickly.

  Portia started to head to her front door but paused when a familiar car pulled in to her driveway. She smiled at the pretty blonde who got out.

  “Hey, Peyton,” she said to the woman who was dating Caleb’s brother, Tom, and whose little girl was in Portia’s day care.

  “Hi, Portia. I heard about all the trouble you’ve been having and thought I’d stop by to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “Not that I can think of,” Portia replied. “You want to come in?”

  “No, thanks. I was just on my way to Melody’s to pick up Lilly and thought I’d stop here for just a minute. I know Caleb is worried sick about all this. So is Tom.”

  “I feel a little guilty taking Caleb away from his search for Brittany,” Portia said.

  Peyton frowned. “Unfortunately there isn’t much they can do about it right now. Tom told me that so far they haven’t found anything in the car, no fingerprints, nothing that would tell them what might have happened. It’s been terrible.”

  “Caleb didn’t mention that to me.”

  “Caleb is the type who keeps things bottled up inside. I checked with Tom a little while ago and the search of the Miller property didn’t turn up anything. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there, I just wanted to check in on you.” Peyton reached out and touched Portia’s forearm. “I’ve been where you’re at, Portia. I know all about fear. If you ever need to talk, just give me a call.”

  It was no wonder that Tom Grayson had fallen in love with Peyton. She was not only beautiful, but she was warm and caring, as well.

  “Thanks, Peyton, I appreciate it.” The two women said their goodbyes and then Peyton got back in her car and Portia went into the house.

  Peyton was right. She knew all about fear. It hadn’t been so very long ago that her baby had been kidnapped and her life threatened by an unknown assailant. Tom had investigated the case and had not only managed to get baby Lilly safely back into Peyton’s arms, but had also fallen in love with them both. The man behind the crimes had been Peyton’s ex-boyfriend, who was also Lilly’s father.

  There had been rumors that a wedding was imminent between Black Rock’s sheriff and the beautiful Peyton and everyone in town was happy that Tom had found the woman to complete his life.

  The house was too silent and Portia found herself wandering from room to room, checking the locks on the windows, fighting the jangling nerves that threatened to take hold of her.

  She’d told Layla the truth, that she refused to be chased away from her home. But, she had to consider that the person who had run her off the road probably also knew where she lived. She told herself she was safe behind locked doors and windows, with the promise of a patrol car in the area, but still she felt on edge, with a touch of fear simmering inside her.

  It was just after six when Caleb called to check in. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Fine, tired,” she replied, surprised by how the sound of his deep voice chased away a little bit of her fear. “Busy day?”

  “Busy but unproductive,” he replied, his frustration evident in his voice. “So far we haven’t been able to locate the truck involved in the accident last night. I’m heading to Harley’s Bar now to see if I can catch up with him. Are you okay there? I think maybe I should come by there when I’m finished at Harley’s. I don’t like the idea of you there by yourself.”

  Yes, a little voice screamed in the back of her head. Yes, please come and stay with me. But she refused to allow the words to leave her lips.

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’m fine. The doors and windows are locked, I’ll sleep with my cell phone right next to the bed and there’s no reason to believe anyone would try to break in here.”

  She couldn’t let her fear rule her life, couldn’t allow it to make decisions for her that she might later regret. She couldn’t very well have Caleb move in with her for protection, nor did she want to.

  His hesitation let her know he wasn’t happy about her being alone. “I’ll make sure a patrol car drives by periodically through the night,” he finally said.

  “That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll be okay,” she replied.

  It was long after they’d hung up, after she’d eaten dinner and gotten ready for bed, that she started to regret the fact that she’d told him she was fine.

  She wasn’t fine. The house that had always felt so warm and inviting now seemed alien. Each floor creak sent a wave of alarm through her. The sound of the air conditioner whooshing on nearly shot her up out of her chair.

  At nine o’clock she finally decided to go to bed. She’d read until she got sleepy. She was in the middle of a good book and hopefully it would keep her mind off her fear and off Caleb.

  She read until eleven, then, realizing sleep was the furthest thing from her mind, she decided to get up and fix herself a cup of hot tea.

  As she went by the front door she peeked outside, and was surprised to see a car parked by the curb in front of her house.

  Caleb.

  What was he doing out there so late? The answer came with a swell of her heart. He was watching her house. He was protecting her.

  Who was the man Caleb Grayson had become in the years since those high school days when she’d been so in love with him? And why, for the first time since those long, lost days, did more than a little bit of interest fill her?

  What did he intend to do, park in front of her house for the entire night to ensure her safety? A warmth coupled with a sweet peace filled her. How easy it would be now to go back to bed and sleep, knowing Caleb was on duty.

  And yet she knew it wasn’t his duty to sit all night on front of her house. How on earth would he function tomorrow after spending the night in the cramped confines of his car?

  You could make it easier on him, a little voice whispered. She hesitated only a moment and then unlocked the front door and
stepped out on the porch.

  In the shine from the nearby streetlight she saw his face and knew that he saw her. She raised a hand and motioned him toward the house, unsure if she was welcoming in her protector or the only man on the face of the earth who had the power to hurt her again.

  He’d had a bad day. Caleb felt as if he’d been spinning his wheels all day long with no forward movement on Portia’s case.

  His talk with Harley at the bar had yielded no answers as to Dale Stemple’s whereabouts. With no indication that the man was even in the small town, Caleb had once again focused on all the men who had been in Portia’s life over the last year.

  If that wasn’t enough, thoughts of his sister had filled him with despair. When they’d found the car Caleb had hoped it would yield some clue as to her whereabouts, but that hadn’t happened. He knew that there were missing persons cases that never got solved, but he didn’t want his sister to be one of those statistics. Still, until something broke in the case, there wasn’t much more they all could do.

  He’d finally gone home, but had only been there a few minutes when he’d been filled with a nagging concern for Portia. He hadn’t been able to quell the feeling of imminent danger.

  He’d finally given up trying and had driven to her house with the intention of spending the night in his car. The minute her front door had opened he’d tensed, wondering if something was wrong.

  She’d stepped out on her front porch in that sexy, little green nightgown and had stared at his car for a long moment. When she’d finally raised a hand to motion him to the house, it hadn’t been alarm that had shot through him, but rather a stir of something very different.

  He now got out of his car and headed toward where she stood on the porch, his heart thudding a rhythm that had nothing to do with duty or protection.

  God, she looked hot with her thick hair tousled and the green gown barely skimming the middle of her thighs and exposing the swell of her breasts.

  “Evening, Portia,” he said as he reached where she stood.

  “It’s not evening, it’s the middle of the night,” she replied. “Did you plan on staying out there until morning?”

  “That was the plan,” he replied. He tried not to allow his gaze to slide down the length of her.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in my guest room or on my sofa?”

  I’d be more comfortable in your bed. The thought jumped unbidden into his brain. “Definitely,” he agreed.

  “Are you expecting trouble?” Her hazel eyes appeared more green than brown as she gazed at him somberly.

  “Not really.” There was no way he could explain to her that faint thrum of anxiety about her safety that had been with him all evening. He had no facts, nothing concrete to go on except the gut instinct that rarely led him wrong. If the person who had hit her car had murder on his mind, then he hadn’t been successful and Caleb didn’t know if he might try again. “I just decided safe was better than sorry.”

  “I like the way you think,” she said dryly and opened the door to allow him inside. She relocked the door behind him and motioned him to the kitchen. “I was just about to make myself a cup of hot tea before trying to go to sleep. You want something?”

  “No, but I’ll sit with you while you drink yours.” He sat at the table and watched as she filled the teakettle and placed it on a stove burner to heat. It surprised him just a little that she didn’t seem self-conscious about her night attire.

  Once the kettle was on she joined him at the table. “Nothing new?”

  He frowned, irritated that he couldn’t tell her the case was solved and she had nothing more to fear. “Nothing. I talked to Harley and asked around town about Dale Stemple, but nobody has seen or heard from him. I also spoke to Joe Castle who says last week he lent his truck to his son, who lives in Oklahoma City.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Sounds a bit suspicious, doesn’t it?”

  “I thought so. I have the authorities there checking it out. I should hear something by tomorrow. Walt Tolliver also owns a black pickup and I went to his place to check on it, but it was undamaged.”

  She smiled. “Walt is too busy seeing aliens to worry about trying to kill me. Besides, he and I have never exchanged a cross word.”

  He shrugged. “He’s a bit out of it most of the time. I thought maybe he’d hit your car accidentally while prowling for his aliens, but it wasn’t him. Oh, and I had a talk with Eric Willowby. You know he’s still in love with you.” He watched her expression closely, but at that moment the teakettle whistled and she jumped up from the table.

  “Eric is a nice man,” she said as she poured the hot water over the tea bag in her cup. After a moment she pulled her tea bag and added a dollop of milk and then returned to the table. “He’ll make somebody a terrific husband.”

  “Then why didn’t you keep dating him?” he asked.

  She took a sip of her tea and eyed him over the rim of the cup. She released a small sigh as she lowered the cup back to the table. “Because he wasn’t the one.”

  “The one?”

  A whisper of impatience flashed in her eyes. “You know, the one I want to go to bed with each night. The one I want to wake up to each morning. He wasn’t the one I wanted to tell my hopes and dreams to.” She shrugged. “As nice as he is, as well as he treated me, he just wasn’t the one.”

  “Maybe you’re looking for somebody who doesn’t exist.”

  “Then I’ll just stay single because I don’t intend to settle,” she exclaimed. “Besides, why are you asking me these questions? You certainly aren’t an example of marital bliss.”

  “At least I got closer than you have been,” he replied and felt the burn of anger that thoughts of Laura always evoked.

  “I didn’t know we were in a contest.” She took another sip of her tea.

  “We’re not,” he replied easily. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

  “What happened with you and Laura? I heard through the grapevine that the two of you had set a date for a wedding and the next thing I heard was that she’d left town.”

  He hadn’t told anyone about what had transpired between him and Laura and he sure didn’t intend to tell Portia now. “It just didn’t work out.” He forced a smile to his lips. “She just wasn’t the one.”

  Portia stared down into her cup and then looked back at him. “Like I wasn’t the one?”

  He sat back in his chair, surprised that she’d bring up their past and equally surprised by the faint surge of resentment that filled him at her words.

  Her cheeks flushed with color and she averted her gaze from his. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she said. “The last thing I want to do is rehash the past. I have enough to worry about with the here and now.”

  “I agree, although there is a little bit of our past I wouldn’t mind rehashing.” His gaze slid down the length of her and he knew there would be no question in her mind about what he meant.

  Why not let her know he still desired her? They weren’t kids anymore, but rather two consenting adults who didn’t need promises of forever to indulge in a little shared passion.

  He leaned forward and breathed in her scent, that delicious burst of sweet floral and clean soap. “I think about prom night sometimes,” he admitted.

  Her eyes shimmered with an emotion he couldn’t begin to identify. “Sometimes I think about it, too. But we were nothing but kids, Caleb, and what we shared that night was magical because it was our first time.” She finished her tea and got up from the table and carried her cup to the sink. “There’s no way to recapture that magic, Caleb,” she said as she turned to face him.

  He got up from the table, as well, and for a moment he forgot why he was here in her house in the middle of the night. He forgot that he’d come here to protect her from some unknown assailant.

  All he could think about was how shiny her hair was in the artificial light overhead and how no other woman’s kisses had ever stirred him the way hers
had done. His head filled with the memories of the slide of his hands across her breasts, the throaty moans that had issued from her as she’d helped him with a condom on that night so long ago.

  He’d had an older friend rent the motel room for them and for that single night it hadn’t been a seedy, rented room, but rather a love nest for the two of them to explore the desire that raged out of control between them.

  “Maybe we don’t need the magic. I mean we aren’t kids anymore,” he said as he stepped closer to her. “Aren’t you curious, Portia?” He took another step toward her, close enough now to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, feel her quickened breath on his face.

  He reached out and swept a strand of her silky hair away from her face, then ran his index finger across her lower lip. Fire leaped into her eyes and emboldened him and he didn’t give himself a chance to change his mind, didn’t give her a chance to protest, but rather took her mouth with his in a searing kiss of hunger.

  She stiffened against him, but didn’t step back, didn’t withdraw. As his tongue touched her upper lip and then slid into her mouth, the tenseness left her body and she seemed to melt against him.

  He wrapped his arms around her, his heart crashing wildly in his chest as she entwined her arms around his neck. The kiss grew wilder, hotter, as it continued and she pressed her body against his.

  Kissing her was the same…and yet different than it had been years ago. She felt sweetly familiar in his arms and yet it wasn’t a boy’s desire that swelled up inside him, but rather that of a man.

  His hand slid up her back, reveling in the feel of the cool silk and the radiating heat of her body beneath. His mouth left hers and slid down the length of her neck as he remembered the sensitive spot just behind her ears.

  Her breath caught as he kissed her there and then continued down the length of her throat. She tossed her head back in a familiar gesture from so long ago, and in that moment Caleb knew he’d been mistaken when he’d told himself he’d rarely thought about her over the years, that he’d stopped wanting her long ago.

  She’d never moved completely out of his blood, out of his heart, and at the moment the resentment he’d felt toward her seemed distant and impossible to summon.

 

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