by BJ Bentley
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, his lips grazing my forehead.
I took stock. “Exhausted,” I answered his throat.
“Have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch.” And that felt like a lifetime ago. Before someone rained bullets down on us, nearly killing Micah and sending me off the deep end. I cringed thinking about how I handled today. Or, rather, didn’t handle it. I’d been a mess, and I couldn’t help but think that I’d somehow let my dad down. Heath never would have spiraled like that. I was a Leighton. I needed to buck up.
“Alright, let’s go get some food in you, and we can talk.”
I seriously doubted I had the energy for a heavy conversation, but I owed him that, so if I was going to buck up, I was starting now. “Okay.”
I grabbed my bag, and we walked out into the gym so Vance could grab his gun and wallet. We found Linc guarding them.
“Didn’t figure you’d want these unattended, detective.”
“You figured right. Thanks, Linc.”
“Welcome. You guys heading out now?”
“Yeah, Poppy needs to eat, and we could both use some sleep.”
“Our girl’s had a rough day.” Linc gave Vance a very pointed look, and it wasn’t lost on me that Linc expected Vance to take care of me because, as evidenced by my earlier behavior, I couldn’t be trusted to do it myself.
“That she has,” Vance agreed.
“Standing right here, guys.”
Linc turned his eyes to me. “You always are, Pop.”
I felt that in my chest. Linc wished I’d take better care of myself. He was always warning me not to give too much. I couldn’t be everything to everyone, but I could give all of me to my classes. Those women needed the skills I could teach them, and I needed to be useful. I opened my mouth to state my case, but he threw up a hand and cut me off.
“Get out of here. Go on home and spend some time with your man.”
The argument I’d been about to deliver died on my tongue. I needed to follow Linc’s advice for once. “Thanks, Linc.”
“Mhm,” he hummed. “Just be thankful I’m not making you clean the locker room.”
I turned wide eyes on Vance, who was trying, and failing, to bite back a laugh. I slapped him on the back when he started to cough.
He deserved it.
I was mortified, but I was already in the process of swallowing my pride so I could do what I was told. That was, get some food in my belly and spend time with my man.
We needed to talk.
And it wasn’t going to be pretty.
22
Poppy
“Coffee?”
After we’d left Linc’s, Vance drove us to my place where he made us breakfast for dinner. Eggs, sausage, and thick slices of sourdough toasted and slathered in garlic butter. It wasn’t fancy, but it was filling. I was going to sleep like a baby.
But not yet.
“Tea, actually.”
“Sit,” he ordered when I tried to move to the cupboard where I kept a box of blueberry lemon tea. “I’ll get it.”
I let him wait on me because I sensed he needed it, and truth be told, it was nice to be taken care of for once. Warm mug in hand, I launched in before he got the chance.
“How did it go at the M.E.’s office? Any leads?”
He blew a breath out of his nose. “I know what you’re doing. But to put your mind at ease about one thing, so we can move on to another, I’ll give you this.”
“Appreciate it,” I mumbled into my mug to hide my smirk.
He told me about the M.E.’s findings and what little evidence they were able to collect from the warehouse. It didn’t sound promising, but Vance was known to close cases on less, so I figured this was just one more mystery he’d get to the bottom of with that infamous instinct of his.
“So, in other words, we got squat,” he said, summing it up.
“You’ve got more than squat,” I argued. “You’ve got your gut. That’s never let you down before, right?”
His face smoothed out, the furrow in his brow disappearing.
“Plus, you’ve got me. I can help.”
His lips tipped up and his eyes sparkled, humor and affection both evident in his soft voice. “Yeah, baby, I got you.”
It felt like that statement had another meaning when he said it like that. I was proven right when he continued.
“You know I’d never let anything happen to you, right?”
I blinked. He’d thrown himself on me when the shooting happened, so I was fairly certain I did know that. “Yes.”
“I know what happened today was…intense. I know you’re worried about Micah. But Micah’s going to be okay, and so are you.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but so far, he hadn’t said anything I disagreed with, so I didn’t interrupt.
“Do you believe me, Poppy? Anyone who comes at you is going to have to go through me first.”
It dawned on me that, even after my earlier confession in the locker room, Vance was under the impression that I’d lashed out today because I was scared for me. Scared of what would happen to me if he wasn’t there to protect me. And while getting shot at certainly hadn’t been fun, that wasn’t the crux of it at all. I intended to disabuse him of that notion, but the words that came out of my mouth weren’t the ones that were planned.
“Why didn’t you tell me about what my dad did for you?”
Vance frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When you were a kid. He could have arrested you, but he didn’t.”
I watched understanding dawn on his face. A mixture of embarrassment and sadness suffusing his expression. “You’ve been talking to McCarthy, I see.”
It was my turn to frown. “Uncle Sean knew?” I asked and mentally facepalmed myself. Of course Uncle Sean knew. He’d been dad’s partner practically from the day dad joined the force. “No, it wasn’t Uncle Sean.”
I watched one dark eyebrow jerk in surprise.
“Captain Griffin.”
“Ahh. Didn’t peg him for a meddler,” he muttered.
“He respects you.”
“He tolerates me,” he corrected. “Barely.”
“Only because he respects you. Even if he doesn’t always agree with your methods.”
Vance threw back the rest of his coffee and settled more fully into his chair. “Are you done changing the subject?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, not really wanting to answer that. “I was scared today,” I admitted.
“I know, baby.” He reached across the table, taking my hand and squeezing. His look was as gentle as his touch. “But I told you, I’ll keep you safe.”
“It could have been you,” I blurted.
Vance frowned, shaking his head slightly. “You said that earlier.”
“I know, but I don’t think you understood what I meant. Instead of Micah. It could have been you.” My voice cracked on ‘you.’ “I wasn’t thinking about me. I wasn’t thinking about what would happen to me if you weren’t there. I wasn’t even thinking about Micah,” I admitted shamefully. “All I could think about was that it could have been you bleeding out on that pavement, and I’d never been so terrified in my entire life, Vance.” I raised my gaze to meet his. “Not when my dad was killed. Not when my mom died.” I shook my head in a vain attempt to clear it.
“Baby,” he murmured.
“And that was the scariest thought of all, you know? We haven’t known each other very long. I shouldn’t feel this much so soon. I shouldn’t feel this much at all.”
“Hey.” He stood, still holding my hand, and came around the table until he was standing in front of me. He tugged me to my feet. “You’re not alone.”
“You can’t always protect me. You can’t be there twenty-four-seven, Vance.”
“Yes, I can, but that’s not what I mean. I mean the way you feel. You’re not alone. You think you’re the only one who lived a nightmare today? You think you’re th
e only one scared shitless that someone you shouldn’t care about so damn much came that close to meeting a bullet? I got news for you, rookie. You. Are not. Alone.”
His words were the artillery that destroyed what little defenses I had left, and I didn’t know what to do with the emotions that bombarded me at his confession. “I don’t know how to process this,” I whispered, moisture flooding my eyes, making the man standing before me blurry even as he bared his soul and showed me everything.
“We’re gonna figure it out.” He shoved my face into his neck before wrapping me in his arms, providing me with the safe haven I needed.
With Vance, I felt safer than I ever had. It was a feeling that not even all my training at Linc’s had been able to provide me. Considering that I could defend myself from all kinds of physical attacks in multiple ways, that was saying something. It was the emotional onslaught that had crippled me. And it was Vance who was giving me strength, and he didn’t even recognize his own worth.
Vance’s phone vibrated. Other than our breathing, it was the only sound to be heard in the little bubble we were currently inhabiting.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling it out and glancing at the caller ID. “Gimme a minute, baby.”
I began to pull away, but he held fast with one arm. I guess giving him a minute didn’t include granting him any privacy.
“She’s fine; I got her,” he said instead of issuing a standard greeting.
I guess there was no time for pleasantries when big brother was worried, and I knew it was Heath from the shouting I heard through the ear piece.
“No, you were right. She was at Linc’s. We’re at her place now. Yep.” He hung up without signing off.
“So…I take it you weren’t the only one worried about me today.” I rolled my lips, swallowing my guilt. I needed to live with that for a bit.
“Heath’s a little pissed. You didn’t return any of his calls.”
I winced. “I haven’t even looked at my phone since this morning.”
“Yeah, well, that needs to change. With everything that’s going on—“
“I know. I wasn’t thinking. I just…reacted.”
“I’m going to be stuck on you like glue until this Granger thing is handled, but if I’m ever not with you, we keep constant contact.”
“We don’t know that Granger was involved in the shooting,” I reminded him.
“Not for sure, but we do know a gunman was driving a vehicle registered to one of Granger’s associates when you were shot at on your way back from Sunnyville, and we know another vehicle registered to Granger was involved in your brother’s hit and run. I don’t believe in coincidences. If Granger wasn’t personally involved in Micah’s shooting, someone connected to him was.”
“Fair enough,” I mumbled.
“You keep your phone charged and on you at all times.”
“You don’t think you’re being just a tad too overprotective?”
“Fuck no.”
I glared. “If it was Colin instead of me, would you be this overprotective?”
“Fuck no.”
I huffed, ready to launch into a diatribe on sexism, but he kept talking.
“I’m not fucking Colin.”
I bugged out my eyes. His statement didn’t make me feel any better.
“I also don’t think about Colin possibly giving me children in the future,” he went on. “So, no, I wouldn’t be this overprotective of Colin. And before you go spoutin’ off about feminism, this isn’t about whether or not you can handle yourself. I know you’re competent. It isn’t about that. It’s about me needing to do everything within my power to keep someone I’m falling for as safe as possible. And I really need you to let me do that.”
If he was looking to take the wind out of my sails, he’d succeeded. “Well,” I sighed. “I suppose I can let you do that.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t add that he was going to have to let me do the same for him. There was no way I was going to let him come to any harm while we were investigating this case, so if he thought he was going to protect me by having me reassigned or locked away in my house until this was all over, he was in for a rude awakening. I was a Leighton, and Leightons always did what was right.
“Are we done with this conversation?”
He ran his nose alongside mine and placed a tender kiss on my upturned lips. “Yeah, baby, we’re done.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze. “Can we go to bed now?”
His arms tightened around my waist in response. “You ready for more of me?” he growled.
I had been feeling rather exhausted and wanted to faceplant into my pillow top mattress for the next sixteen hours, but between Vance’s words and the husky timbre of his voice, my body suddenly caught its second wind. I shifted my weight, rubbing my thighs together.
Vance’s knowing smile was rather smug, but I couldn’t fault him. I was sure I was being rather transparent. There was no reason to hide what I was feeling. No reason to play games. “Yes.”
My man took me upstairs and took his sweet time making my body sing while he made love to me. It was the opposite of what we’d done in the locker room, which had been a hard and fast reaffirmation of life and venting of frustration. What we were doing to each other now was a declaration.
A worship.
A vow.
Only tomorrow would tell if we’d be able to keep all the promises we made.
23
Poppy
“So, Poppy, how is work going?”
My gaze had been trained on what was left of the utterly delicious chicken cacciatore on my plate, and I’d been considering a second helping when Amelia posed her question. “It’s good.”
“Just good?”
My sister-in-law was an intuitive woman, and the mischievous twinkle in her eye was a sign she knew far more than she was letting on. This did not bode well for me. I looked around the dinner table, noting that Heath and his friend from the academy, Grant Malone —yes, one of those Malones— were deep in conversation about Grant’s first time skydiving. Heath wanted to try it, but Amelia was adamantly against it, and since Amelia was due to deliver their first child any day now, I was surprised Heath would court her wrath. Anyone who dared contradict the wishes of a pregnant woman either had a death wish or brass balls.
Knowing my brother, it was the latter.
Dragging my eyes away from Heath and the ridiculously handsome figure of Grant Malone in a dark blue button-down shirt —I was taken, not dead— I looked back to Amelia and Grant’s wife Emerson, who’s eye twinkle matched that of Amelia’s. “What?”
Emerson bit her lip, stifling a giggle. “Ahh, I remember those days,” she said dreamily, casting her eyes in her husband’s direction.
“What days?”
“The honeymoon phase,” Amelia supplied. “I remember those days fondly.”
“The romance,” Emerson said wistfully.
“The joy of discovery,” Amelia added, her eyes now on Heath.
“The constant sex,” Emerson nearly moaned, catching her husband’s attention.
Suddenly, the energy in the room changed. What was once lighthearted conversation was now loaded innuendo, and I felt like the fifth wheel for the first time that evening.
Clearing his throat, Grant announced, “Emmy and I should really be going. Thank you for dinner, Amelia, it was incredible.”
Emerson nearly knocked her chair over, she stood up so fast, which made me laugh.
“You’re so welcome.” Amelia awkwardly lumbered from her chair to give Grant a hug, her pregnant belly leading the way.
“Thanks for coming. Amelia loves to cook, and she hasn’t been able to do much of it lately. But with the baby coming, she figured it would be her last chance to produce anything other than breast milk for a while,” Heath said, eliciting a gasp and a playful swat from his wife. “Besides, Poppy needs to get home.”
I jerked my chin. “I do?�
��
Heath turned to me. “Brody’s been sitting outside for the past twenty minutes. At some point the neighbors are going to get concerned, and I don’t need them knocking on my door complaining of a creeper in the neighborhood.”
I walked to the window facing the street and drew back the curtain. Sure enough, there was Vance, sitting in his car at the curb. I frowned at my brother. “You knew he was out there, and you didn’t invite him in?” Despite his promise to stick to me like glue, Vance had declined Heath’s dinner invitation, opting to spend some extra time at the station getting caught up on some of his other cases. He said since I would be in Heath’s house, I didn’t need him ‘up my ass.’ His words. And while I appreciated the time with my brother, Vance was sorely missed.
I suddenly couldn’t wait to leave.
Heath shrugged. “He could have come in at any time. Obviously, he didn’t want to.”
“I thought you two were finally getting along?”
Heath cracked a knuckle. “We are.”
I narrowed my eyes, but he kept his face placid, so I gave up. “Whatever.”
I grabbed my coat and purse, said a quick goodbye to everyone, and all but ran down the front walk.
Vance met me at the curb. “Hey. You have a good time?”
“I did. I missed Amelia’s cooking.”
“Good,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping me inside. I might not be pregnant like Amelia, but I was sporting a serious food baby, and I was moving like a sloth.
“Brody!”
I glanced up in the process of shutting my door at Grant’s call.
“Malone,” Vance greeted him with a handshake.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your partner for the task force.”
“Thanks for taking him off my hands for a while,” Vance joked, causing Grant to crack a smile.
“I wish you’d taken me up on my offer, too. We could have used your talents. But I can see now why you didn’t.” Grant said cryptically, tipping his head slightly in my direction.
