Finding Home

by Rachel Smith

  Worthless piece of shit.

  I hated that he lived kitty-corner from my woman. Maybe I should make a random stop on my next patrol day. Put the fear of God—and the Glenview Police Department—in this guy.

  Lizzie lifted her hand in a feeble wave but quickly turned to face forward.

  “You know that guy?” I asked, hoping like hell she didn’t.

  “Not really,” she mumbled. “He stopped over to introduce himself. He’s probably not a bad guy, but he just caught me off guard. Kinda creeped me out.”

  My fingers flexed around the steering wheel. Teeth clenched tight, I reined in as much boiling anger as possible before I spoke again. “Never again,” I seethed and her head whipped to face me, eyes round with concern.

  “What?”

  “You are not to be around him again, understood? He might not seem like a bad guy, Liz, but he is, and I mean in any possible way you can think of someone being a bad guy. He’s all of those, and probably more. You need to keep your distance. Be aware if he’s outside when you’re coming or going and don’t make eye contact. If he comes over to your house and catches you off guard, you get my number in a speed dial on your phone and fucking use it. I don’t want him anywhere near you, but if he comes around, I want to know about it. So you call, right away.”

  Her face paled. Lips parted, she nodded once and whispered, “He’s that bad?”

  I glanced across the cab and noticed her fingers twisted in her lap. Shit, I didn’t mean to scare her. Reaching out, I covered both of her hands with mine before giving them a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, honey, he’s a bad guy. You’ll be fine, I’ll make sure of that, but just be alert, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay,” she agreed. The air had grown heavy inside the cab. I hated that our night started this way. Nothing like a rough wall-fuck and a creepy as shit neighbor to set the mood.

  “So, you never did tell me what we’re having for dinner?”

  I smiled. “Well, baby, be prepared to be dazzled. I’m basically a culinary genius in the kitchen.”

  “Oh yeah,” she snorted. “Ten bucks says you made spaghetti. Easiest meal in the book.”

  13

  Lizzie

  My eyelids fluttered opened to total darkness. Something heavy lay across my chest, pinning my body to the mattress. Panic threatened to choke me before I slowly came into consciousness and found my bearings.

  Oh yeah... the date. Possibly the worst date in the history of all dates, not counting the awful meal I shared with Max Mayland.

  So, the second worst date in the history of all dates, then.

  Except the wall sex. The impeccable, hot, carnal wall sex all because he saw the lace on my bra. That part curled my toes and made my little heart thump erratically inside my chest.

  Okay, so maybe because we started out on such a high note it only seemed like the rest of the date was shit. And truthfully, I may have been a tad bit dramatic. The night wasn’t that bad. It was mostly just awkward, embarrassing, and basically solidified my classification as a complete dork.

  I closed my eyes, hoping to disappear into the darkness. God, what I wouldn’t give to be home, alone, in my own bed right now.

  Movement caught my eye as Alex lifted his head from the pillow. Sleepy eyes peered down at me, filled with concern. “You doing okay?”

  Odd thing to ask in the morning, but whatever. “I guess. Why?”

  “Fuck, Lizzie, you serious?”

  I shifted to get a better look at him. “Um… yeah. Mostly I’m just confused. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  One sexy eyebrow lifted high into an arch. “Because you woke my ass up with your blood-curdling screams seven times during the night.”

  My heart sank. “What?”

  “You. Screaming. In the night.” He turned onto his back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, it was awful.”

  Oh shit.

  I shifted to face him, only then realizing that my whole body hurt, but my head felt like it’d been run over by a truck. The steady beat of a bass drum boomed inside my skull, my throat parched and dry accompanied by a rancid taste.

  Sweet Jesus up in Heaven. I’d drank too much… again. I racked my brain, trying to recall the last thing I remembered. Suddenly, a tidal wave of memories flooded over me and I was sputtering, grasping for breath.

  Drowning in embarrassment.

  I stuffed the crisp ten-dollar bill into my pocket.

  “Totally called it,” I said smugly. I knew he’d make spaghetti. Seriously, it was impossible to screw up.

  Alex grinned as he bustled around the kitchen. “Can I help?” I offered.

  “No, sit. You want a glass of wine?”

  I nodded. “That sounds great.”

  The cork squeaked as he pulled it from the bottle. Looking around the tidy kitchen I asked, “Have you lived here long?”

  “Just a couple of months,” he answered. “When I was in town on assignment, I lived in one of the apartments above Main Street. It was easier to be close to… um… everything.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and continued, “I moved into this place shortly after the whole mess with Carlito was resolved. I just rent for now, but I’m thinking of buying a place, actually.”

  “Oh? You liked Glenview so much that you came back, huh? And now with plans to stay.”

  He nodded as he handed me a glass of wine. Obviously registering the look of horror on my face he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  I offered an apologetic smile. “You wouldn’t happen to have any white wine, would you?” I winced as the oaky aroma wafted into my nose.

  “I don’t. Google said a cabernet sauvignon paired best with red sauce.” Eyes round, mouth agape, the poor guy looked innocently concerned that he’d done something wrong.

  I giggled. “Yes, well, Google divulges only the truth.” I procured the glass from his hand, giving him an encouraging smile. “My body doesn’t handle red wine well, is all. I suppose to avoid another table dancing incident, I’ll just take small sips.”

  “Ah, gotcha.” A naughty gleam appeared in his smiling eyes and my stomach muscles clenched in anticipation.

  “What?”

  He shrugged, a smart-ass grin on his lips. “Nothing. I’m just picturing you giving me a private table dance. You know… the naked kind.”

  I’d just taken a sip of wine when I sputtered, causing drips of red wine to dribble down my chin. I reached up to wipe them away before they fell onto my sweater, clumsily bumping the glass in my other hand which caused it to fly toward the table. Wine spilled onto the wood, soaking the placemats. The glass shattered into a million tiny fragments.

  Well, crapper.

  Alex jumped into action, grabbing a towel from a drawer to soak up my mess.

  “I’m so sorry,” I gushed. My face flamed with embarrassment as I began to pick up pieces of glass. “You just… I got…”

  He placed a reassuring hand on my arm. “Relax.” His voice instantly calmed my nerves. Once I’d retrieved as many of the bigger chunks of glass from the table as I could find, I made my way to the garbage.

  Three steps.

  That’s all I took before I tripped on the edge of the rug, causing it to slide along the hardwood floor. I held my ground for a beat before my weight shifted.

  The rug went backward.

  I went forward.

  My body tumbled to the ground in the most ungraceful way possible. I landed hard on my elbow, jarring my glass-filled hands together.

  “Ow!” I screeched.

  Instant pain.

  Instant freaking pain in my hand and holy hell did it hurt.

  “Jesus, Lizzie.” Alex threw the wine-soaked dishtowel into the sink and rushed to my side. “Here, let me see.” He gently pulled my hands apart. Some of the glass dropped to the floor, but three larger pieces remained lodged in my right palm. Blood oozed down my wrist.

  Hot tears formed in my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. The cuts hurt, but the tears
were more from embarrassment than anything else. I mean, seriously, what a disaster. This night couldn’t possibly get any worse. Could it?

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He helped me into a chair and rushed into the bathroom just off the kitchen. Sitting there, trying not to die of utter mortification—I mean, I hadn’t been here an hour and I was bleeding profusely—I considered making a run for it, cut my losses and call it a night, when a white first aid box appeared in front of me. With swift, nimble fingers, Alex opened the box, found the tweezers and removed the glass from my hand. After a quick swab with an alcohol-infused cotton ball, he bandaged the cuts.

  All while not letting the noodles boil over and removing perfectly baked garlic bread from the oven.

  He was like Superman.

  “There we go,” he whispered before he put the kit back together. Pushing a wild strand of hair behind my ear, he ran his index finger down my jaw and then touched the tip of my nose. “All better.”

  I smiled and he leaned closer. Placing soft kisses along my lips, he nibbled his way from one side to the other. His gentle sweetness melted my insides. As he wrapped his warm hand around the side of my neck, he began to shift, raining kisses along my jaw to my ear. “Better?” he whispered, and my entire body shivered. I felt a smile form against my neck as he nuzzled closer, only pulling away when the timer beeped.

  “Dinner’s ready,” he said, his voice raspy and full of want.

  “Yummy, yummy in my tummy.”

  Lizzie, what the hell? I rolled my eyes, my mouth agape at the stupidity that continually spewed out of it. Could you be any more of a loser? Alex grinned, gave me one last quick kiss and began to set the food on the table.

  I filled another glass, plastic this time, with red wine. Okay, so a few minor hiccups to start the night, but it had to be smooth sailing from here on out, right?

  Easy conversation flowed as we ate our meal. I learned that Alex was an only child. He grew up in Kansas City, where his parents still lived. The Bureau took him to Chicago after just a few years with the Kansas City Police Department.

  I mostly listened to him talk, asking questions here and there. My main concern was getting through the meal without slopping sauce all over myself. I made a mental note to eat my spaghetti slowly, with care, because I knew it would end up in my lap otherwise.

  After dinner, we cleared the table together. Alex washed dishes while I dried and put them away. Because… ya know, my hand was bandaged from my mishap. Funny how such a simple task felt so normal, so easy.

  So right.

  I’d never done anything so domestic with a man. It was nice. I wasn’t anxious or nervous. Even after the disastrous start, this turned out to be a great date.

  Until it happened.

  I should have known it couldn’t go easy for too long. I mean, I am Lizzie Rockwell. This is just how things work in my world.

  Sitting on the comfy couch, another full glass of red wine in hand, Alex inserted the DVD.

  “So, what are we watching?” I curled my feet up under my body to get more comfortable. Alex’s couch kicked ass. All soft fabric and comfortable squishiness.

  “Slashed.”

  My head jerked around. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Slashed.” His eyes lit up when he said it this time. “It’s the new Anderson Devine thriller. I missed it in the theaters last summer, but I heard it’s fucking awesome.”

  I swallowed another mouthful of wine. “I, uh, I don’t do well with the scary, gory type of horror flicks.” Understatement of the century, right there. Flashbacks to my childhood and trying to burrow myself into Charlotte’s body during the night came to mind. God, she hated that; having her big sister in bed with her for three damn years because I was scared out of my mind.

  And don’t even get me started on the night terrors. I typically slept through them, but Charlotte—and everyone else in my house growing up—informed me they were quite awful.

  “Aww, don’t be scared, little firecracker. I’ll be right here to protect you.” He flashed a sexy smile as he settled his arm around my shoulder. “Here, snuggle in, and when it gets to a scary part, just close your eyes.”

  “Seriously, Alex, this is not a good idea.”

  He grinned and kissed my nose. “I promise to keep you safe from the scary movie.”

  Famous last words…

  “Yeah, okay,” I agreed. Flashbacks to multiple sleepovers in my teenage years trickled through my brain; parents coming to pick me up in the middle of the night, lost friends, being made fun of and called names.

  However, I was an adult now. That whole fiasco of me wailing and screaming through the night was a long time ago. I was sure I’d be just fine.

  Plus, I had wine.

  And Alex. I had Alex here to protect me. Maybe if it got to a scary part, I’d start feeling him up and we could just make out. Then I wouldn’t care at all about what was happening in the movie.

  There—a plan.

  Perfect.

  And it had worked, mostly. I closed my eyes, plugged my ears, made out with Alex. I only caught a few of the scary, awful parts between kisses. Everything was great.

  Until…

  Beep, beep, beep.

  Oh no. “Are you on call?”

  “No,” he muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’m off tonight, but something must be going on with the Waters’ case if they’re calling.” He put the phone to his ear and clipped, “Lexington.”

  I waited patiently and continued to sip my wine. Even though Alex only said a word or two into the phone, I could tell something was wrong. His muscles tensed and bunched beneath my touch. When he ended the call, apologetic eyes looked over at me.

  “You have to go, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Lizzie, I’m so sorry.” Reaching for me, he pulled me so close our noses touched.

  “I want you to stay. Watch TV, hang out, and drink more wine, whatever you want to do. When you get tired, crawl into my bed. I’ve got to take care of some shit down at the station, but when I get home, I want you here. I want to come home to you, Liz, so you can take it all away, understand?”

  I nodded reluctantly, disappointed once again. I guess on the bright side, he wasn’t running from me this time.

  So, he left. I stayed and did what he said. I watched reruns of Friends on TV and drank more wine so I wouldn’t think about that horrible, awful movie. Apparently, I’d drunk a little too much, judging by the way I felt at the moment.

  Which brings me back to now. In Alex’s bed, a bit hungover, hearing that I’d screamed through the night.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered and his head whipped to face me. I felt my cheeks flame. “I knew this would happen if I watched a scary movie.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry.” He turned on his side and rested a hand on my hip. “I should’ve listened when you told me you didn’t handle scary movies well. Fuck, I shouldn’t have picked a scary movie in the first place.” He ran his hand through his hair and I immediately missed his touch at my hip.

  “I suck at dating.”

  I giggled. “Yeah, well, I’m no pro at it either, Alex. Right?” I held up my bandaged hand as proof. “I guess if I suck and you suck, at least we can suck at dating together. No use inflicting our suckage on others.”

  His smile faded.

  Oh shit, too soon for that kind of talk.

  “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t suck at dating someone else. If you wanted to… I guess… I mean, it’s not like we’re a thing, really. Like an exclusive… um, okay, so I’m going to just close my mouth now. For a while.”

  And possibly die of embarrassment.

  Again.

  He still didn’t respond, his eyes fixated on my mouth. I waited for him to say something, anything. I eventually gave in and prompted, “Alex?”

  Finally blinking out of his daze, his eyes lifted to mine. “Sorry, but you just said the word ‘suck’ about six times in a row, and I can’t s
eem to get past it.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Typical man. Well, if he’s thinking about it…

  I lifted to a knee before rolling my body on top of his. Two strong hands held tight to my hips as I propped my elbows on each side of his head. “Well, then,” I crooned, my awkward attempt to be sexy. “Let’s just see what we can do to make that a reality.”

  I began kissing my way down his body, along his neck, his chest, his rib cage. It only took one swift pull to remove his boxer briefs before I attacked.

  “Oh, Jesus, baby,” Alex purred while I gave it everything I had. Licking, sucking, stroking. I brought him to the peak of ecstasy and then pushed him over the edge.

  I didn’t have even a moment to bask in the pride of causing him such enjoyment. Because in a flash, Alex flipped me to my back, a wicked grin on his lips as he slid down my body.

  “Payback time.”

  My muscles tensed in anticipation. My breathing a ragged mix of panting and wheezing as he took his turn to lick, suck, and stroke me. And as I fell over the edge, I gasped his name, my senses exploding before I began to slowly float back down to Earth. I realized this had turned out to be the best date of my life.

  Ever.

  14

  Alex

  As I made my way through the streets of Glenview to the station, I felt lighter, relaxed.

  Happy.

  Coming home to Lizzie last night and waking up to her smiling face this morning brought out a whole new set of feelings for me. Feelings I’d never had about a woman before.

  Possessive, ‘beat your chest’ type of feelings.

  I loved being around her. Feeling her soft skin pressed tightly to me all night, I slept like a rock. Well, except for that whole awful screaming thing she did. Damn, I should’ve known not to pick a scary movie. My thought process had been that she’d curl up with me and I could play the part of the protective man to her cowering woman.