One Night

by Debbie Macomber

  The patrolman climbed out of his car and stepped up to the BMW. With a casual air, Kyle rolled down his window.

  “Hello, officer.” His tone was cheerful, albeit strained.

  “Hello. May I see your driver’s license and the car registration, please.” The officer was brisk and businesslike.

  “Was I speeding?” Kyle asked. Carrie knew full well that he had been.

  The officer was intent on reading over Kyle’s license and didn’t respond to his question. “I see you folks are from Kansas City.”

  “That’s right.”

  Again Carrie left the talking to Kyle. The less she opened her mouth, the better. At least that was the way Kyle would view it.

  “You two been married long?”

  Kyle exchanged glances with Carrie. “We’re not married,” he told the officer, whose name tag identified him as Andrew Lindsey.

  “Take my advice and don’t do it.”

  “Do it?” Kyle repeated.

  “Get married.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Carrie said, leaning toward Kyle to get a better look at the patrolman. “We don’t even like each other. We just work together. For one reason or another, we’ve never quite hit it off.”

  “I don’t think the officer is interested in listening to our differences,” Kyle said pointedly.

  “Oh-oh.” Andrew Lindsey opened the door and slipped onto the back seat. He removed his hat and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “That’s the way it started with Gayle and me too. She was a secretary at the station, and the two of us couldn’t see eye to eye on anything. The next thing I know, we’re married.”

  “Married.” Kyle laughed. “Trust me, officer, I’d rather eat skunk meat than marry this woman.”

  Carrie shot him a hot look, her temper rising. He didn’t have to be so insulting. “I’d rather leap off a tall building than spend the rest of my life with this man!” she retaliated heatedly.

  “You don’t need to worry, it isn’t going to happen.”

  “You’re darn right it isn’t going to happen. I’d be crazy to marry anyone like you.”

  “No more crazy than I’d be to marry you!”

  “She left me, you know,” Patrolman Lindsey said, his shoulders sagging. Carrie guessed he hadn’t heard a word of their heated exchange.

  “I’m sorry,” she offered sympathetically, twisting around in order to see the other man. “When did all this happen?”

  Kyle muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t hear. Apparently he wasn’t keen on her feeding this conversation.

  “Last week,” Lindsey answered. “It was totally unexpected. I left for work and couldn’t see that anything was wrong and returned to find a note. If she was going to leave me, you’d think she’d take the kids with her.”

  “You have children?”

  “Five.”

  “Five!” Carrie and Kyle responded together.

  “The two oldest are in school. It’s a good thing her mother lives with us, or I wouldn’t know what to do with the three younger ones.”

  Carrie’s eyes locked with Kyle’s. “Her mother lives with you?” Kyle asked.

  “Yeah. Gayle left me with the kids and her mother and a letter that claimed she needed to find herself. Hell, all she had to do was look in the laundry room. Everything else is in there.”

  “Oh, my,” Carrie murmured.

  “I haven’t heard a word from her since. For all I know, she’s off praying with some guru who wears thongs and eats sushi.”

  “She’ll be back,” Carrie said, letting optimism flow through her words.

  “That’s what I thought at first too,” he mumbled. “Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Do you miss her?” Carrie could feel Kyle’s eyes boring into her. It went without saying that he wanted her to terminate the conversation, instead of encouraging the other man to talk about his problems.

  This was the real difference between her and Kyle, Carrie decided. He held everything inside until the weight of hauling all his emotions around bogged him down. She, on the other hand, freely spoke her mind. Of the two, Carrie considered herself by far the healthier one, emotionally.

  “The real problem is we got along in bed better than anyplace else,” the patrolman continued. “We’d argue all day and make love all night. We never could seem to find a middle ground.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Kyle said impatiently.

  Apparently his tone was enough to snap Officer Lindsey out of his depressed reverie. He looked up and seemed surprised to find himself in the back seat of Kyle’s vehicle. He reached for his pad and pen and climbed out of the car.

  After making a couple of notations, he peeled off a sheet. When he spoke his voice was filled with authority. “According to the radar reading, you were traveling seventy-two miles an hour in a fifty-five-mile-an-hour zone.”

  “Seventy-two?” Kyle sounded appropriately shocked.

  “I’ve written out a warning,” he said, handing Kyle the pad to sign and then removing the sheet of paper. “I’d advise you to observe the speed limit.”

  “And not to marry,” Carrie threw in for good measure. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, officer.”

  He left them with a weak, embarrassed smile.

  Kyle and Carrie sat motionless until Officer Lindsey had started his patrol car and driven away. Then, all at once, the tension was gone and Carrie started to laugh. Kyle glared at her disapprovingly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, unable to stop. She swiped at her eyes. “His wife left him with five kids and her mother, and he thinks she should look to find herself in the laundry room!”

  Kyle chuckled too. “Then he advises us not to marry.”

  “Us!” she repeated, and they both doubled over. The idea of the two of them exchanging vows was ludicrous. They didn’t even like each other. They laughed, stopped and looked at each other, and started to laugh once more.

  Carrie suddenly realized that she was leaning companionably against Kyle, and his arm had found its way around her shoulders. Embarrassed, she righted herself and made a show of looking at her watch. “My, my,” she said. “Time sure does pass when you’re having fun.”

  “Fun,” he repeated, quickly retrieving his way-ward arm.

  “Yeah,” she said brightly.

  Seeming anxious to be on his way, Kyle started the car and pulled onto the highway. Neither spoke, and Carrie found herself nervously picking at the threads of her skirt. When she saw Kyle’s gaze move to her hands, she stopped.

  Pulling out the map, she studied the route and mentally calculated how much longer they’d be stuck together in the close confines of the car. The space seemed to be evaporating, closing in on her, growing narrower with each mile they traveled.

  Carrie found herself becoming aware of Kyle in ways that were completely foreign to her. Until now she hadn’t noticed how broad his shoulders were or how deep his chest was. His eyelashes were incredibly thick, the ends golden. He found her studying him, and she instantly returned to picking at her denim skirt.

  “You need a break?” he asked, as they neared the outskirts of yet another small town.

  “No, thanks,” she said, in a voice tight enough to cause him to glance her way.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “It’s fine. I guess I’m a little tired is all.”

  She was tired? Between the drunk singing all night in the cell next to his and the deputy who listened to talk radio, he hadn’t gotten more than a couple of hours’ rest himself.

  Kyle had never been comfortable defining emotions. He’d often envied women their ability to translate feeling into words. He sure as hell didn’t know what to say now.

  “Do you know anything about the town of Paris?” he asked, as the silence started to concern him. If Carrie wasn’t talking she was thinking, and a thinking woman was dangerous.

  “Just what it says on the map,” she said, reaching for the folded sheet. �
�Population twenty-five thousand. Big enough for the folks who issue traveler’s checks to arrange for us to pick up new ones. We should be able to do a bit of shopping there as well.”

  “Great.” Kyle was more than ready for a fresh set of clothes.

  “What time do you think we’ll arrive?”

  “Another hour or two,” he said, guessing.

  Actually he wasn’t that far off. They arrived in the farming community of Paris at two-thirty that afternoon. The sign outside of town boasted that Paris had the only stoplight in Lamar County, which gave them both reason to smile.

  The main street resembled that of many of the other communities they’d passed through: angle parking with a narrow island that ran the length of the street. Kyle pulled into a slot in front of the bank.

  It didn’t take long for them to pick up their replacement traveler’s checks.

  “We’d better see about getting hotel rooms,” he suggested next.

  “Rooms already?” Carrie asked, blinking back her surprise.

  “I suppose you’re hungry.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. In case you hadn’t noticed, we haven’t eaten today.” It went without saying that there was a very good reason. They’d had no cash and just enough gas to make it from Wheatland to Paris.

  Now that she mentioned it, Kyle realized he was famished himself. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get something to eat first.”

  They found a café and were coaxed inside by the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. To his surprise, the place was empty. This was exactly the kind of spot where town folks gathered for chitchat and to exchange gossip about their neighbors.

  “Where is everyone?” Carrie asked.

  “You folks sit anyplace you like.” A waitress wearing a badge that said TRIXIE greeted them, seated them, and brought them ice water and plastic-coated menus. She was near thirty, Kyle guessed, and not bad-looking.

  “I take it you two aren’t from around these parts?”

  “Kansas City,” Kyle explained.

  “You ever heard of Bubba ‘Oink’ Corners?”

  “Can’t say I have,” Kyle admitted.

  “Well, he’s in town and most everyone’s out at the Grange listening to him.”

  Bubba must be some country-western singer, Kyle thought.

  “I’d be there myself, but I couldn’t find anyone to work my shift for me.” Trixie reached for the pencil that was positioned behind her ear. “The special today is stuffed pork chops, pork chow mein—or piggies in a blanket if you’re in the mood for breakfast. We serve it twenty-four hours a day.”

  “I’ll have a chef’s salad,” Carrie said, handing the waitress the menu.

  “That sounds good,” Kyle said.

  Trixie stepped away from the table, writing as she moved toward the kitchen. Kyle’s gaze followed her, not because she was particularly sexy-looking. Hell, he didn’t know why he was watching her except it was better than admitting how pretty Carrie was with her mussed-up hair and pouty lips. He wasn’t even aware of what he was doing until his gaze returned to Carrie. She gave him a look that would have grilled cheese.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “Nothing,” she snapped, and proceeded to shred her paper napkin into even strips. Kyle had the distinct feeling she wanted to rake her nails across his face.

  “Obviously something’s troubling you,” he said, hoping to sound calm and reasonable, knowing he didn’t. Two days with her and the talent for remaining calm and cool he’d developed over his thirty years was damn near gone.

  “I said it was nothing,” she said stiffly.

  “Fine.” He stood and walked over to the cash register, where someone had left a newspaper. He picked it up and carried it back to their booth. The minute he buried his face behind it, Carrie stuck her arm out and lowered the paper just enough for their eyes to meet.

  “Do you always look at women like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like…like you’re picturing them without their clothes on.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” If his mind’s eye was entertaining any such sight, it was of Carrie with her cute little rump and plump breasts, not some waitress.

  He folded the paper and set it next to the silverware. “Are you jealous?”

  Carrie rolled her eyes. “Hardly. It’s just that I’d never noticed what a…” Apparently she couldn’t think of a word adequate to describe him. “I just never thought you were that kind of man.”

  “What kind of man?” he asked loudly.

  Trixie, who was standing at the counter with her back to them, turned around and stared. Carrie pressed her hands against the edge of the table and whispered heatedly, “The kind of man who mentally undresses women!”

  Kyle wasn’t sure if he was angry or amused. He leaned forward and whispered too. “You know, I was just beginning to think you might not be so bad after all, that there was some hope of salvaging a working relationship, but now I see I was dead wrong. Nothing’s changed.”

  Carrie was silent after that, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t because she didn’t have anything to say.

  Trixie delivered their salads and Kyle gave his attention to eating and reading the newspaper, although he feared his retention level was almost zero.

  A couple of times he glanced Carrie’s way and found her with her elbow on the tabletop and her head leaning against her hand, as if she were having trouble staying awake. She resembled a lost kitten.

  Kyle immediately felt guilty. He struggled with that for several moments and decided she probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than he had and was just as cranky.

  He set the paper aside. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said.

  She turned to look at him, as if she suspected she hadn’t heard him correctly. “I shouldn’t have suggested anything so stupid. Even if you were looking at the waitress that way, it was none of my business.”

  “I wasn’t,” he said, wanting to be honest. “If anything, I was trying to not look at you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” He’d walked into that one with both feet, and now that he was knee deep in cement there was only one way out: the truth. “Because if I didn’t look at her I would look at you, and I didn’t want to own up to how attractive you are.”

  She blinked twice as if she were struck dumb.

  Kyle felt he needed to qualify his response. “You see, we’ve been at odds for so long that I’ve only viewed you one way.” In all the time they’d worked together he had missed what a desirable woman she was.

  “I know what you mean,” she said sheepishly. “You were pretty much one-dimensional to me as well.”

  “Friends?” he asked.

  She smiled. He’d never seen a woman’s eyes light up the way hers did. “Friends,” she agreed.

  They finished their salads and shared the tab.

  “You ready to scout out a hotel now?” he asked.

  Once more she shook her head. “I’m so tired, the minute I lie down I’ll never find the energy to get up again. I’d rather do what shopping I need to do and then find a hotel room.”

  That she made sense was something of a novelty. Furthermore he agreed with her. “Okay, let’s meet back here in an hour,” he suggested, studying his watch. He didn’t plan on taking that long himself, but he assumed she’d require more time than he did. “Is that all right with you?”

  “It’s fine,” she assured him.

  “As soon as I’m finished, I’ll find a hotel and book us two rooms.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” she said.

  They separated. Carrie headed in one direction and Kyle in another. It took him all of fifteen minutes to purchase what he needed for the weekend. From the men’s store, he promptly scouted out the hotels.

  He was late meeting Carrie by ten minutes, but that couldn’t be helped.

  “Did you get the hotel rooms?” she asked.

  Kyle wasn’
t sure what they were going to do. “I found out what the Oink in Bubba’s name means,” he said, ignoring the question.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Remember Trixie telling us everyone had gone to listen to Bubba?”

  “Yes,” she said impatiently.

  “Bubba’s a hog caller. We’ve walked into the world championship hog-calling contest.”

  Carrie stared back at him blankly. “Are you leading up to something?”

  “Yes,” he muttered. “And you aren’t going to like it.”

  “Kyle, please, I didn’t get a wink of sleep all last night, and frankly I’m too tired to play games. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Every hotel in town is booked solid.”

  “Every room?”

  “No,” he said. “There’s one room left. If we decide to stay in Paris, we’re going to have to share a room and a bed.”

  6

  “I swear if you breathe a word of this to anyone back at the station, I’ll make your life miserable,” Carrie said as she ripped the bedspread off the corner of the bed with enough energy to send the pillow flying halfway across the room.

  “You mean more miserable than you already do?” Kyle asked her calmly.

  She braced her hands against her hips, a smile quivering on her lips, and leveled her gaze meaningfully in his direction. “Exactly.”

  He retrieved her pillow for her and set it back on the mattress. “In case you were unaware of it, I don’t like this arrangement any more than you do.”

  She glared at him.

  “If it’ll make you sleep easier, I give you my word as a gentleman that I won’t touch you.”

  Carrie was convinced he was telling her the truth, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  His sigh was filled with righteous patience. “If you’re so worried about it, I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said without emotion, although it was clear her lack of response had offended him.

  Bunking down on the carpet had been his first suggestion and Carrie had rejected it, claiming, in a moment of generosity, that they were both adults and didn’t need to do anything so drastic.

  “Do you or do you not want me to sleep on the floor?” he asked.