by Mary Stone
“You know what I mean. It’s like my uniform is shameful to her. But she always donates to police fundraisers, and she loves Captain Browning and Chief Johnson. Why can’t she accept what I do?”
“If you become the Chief of Police, she might change her tune.”
“Even I know that’s farfetched. I had to turn my phone off. Danver has been calling nonstop.”
“Maybe he misses you.”
Ellie laughed. It was just like Nick to give her one-liners until she finally cracked a smile. “Danver is riding the desk until retirement. The only thing he misses is not having me to babysit.” She blew out a breath. “Between my colleagues and my mother, I’m either a spoiled rich girl playing cops and robbers or a delicate rose to be protected.”
Nick’s blue eyes took on a serious note. “You know they have their reasons.”
“I know they do. But I guess I just want them to see me for who I am. I’m not Helen Kline, and I won’t ever be. Dan Jr. and Blake jumped into the family investment business with both feet. That should be enough, right?”
“You would think. But you are their only daughter.”
“That’s Wesley’s fault.” She laughed. “My mom never got over him being a boy. All those pink clothes she bought when the ultrasound was wrong.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t sue.”
“Or name him Wendy anyway.” Ellie snorted lightly, then giggled.
Nick touched the underside of her chin and ran his thumb over her cheek. Though they’d kissed a thousand times, her heart still fluttered when their lips met. His touch was light, achingly tender. And when he pulled away, she found herself wishing they were somewhere else. Anywhere else.
He held her as she melted against him, letting the gurgling of the river calm her soul and erase her troubles. Things were going to work out. And if they didn’t, she would find a way to make them work out. Her dreams were in reach, and no amount of guilt would weigh her down. She was going to do what she set out to do and more.
And anyone who stood in her way would find out exactly what type of woman she was.
A woman who refused to live in fear.
5
Nick stood beside Ellie on the balcony, the soft Charleston air dancing around them, her dress and the water below shimmering in the bright light of the full moon.
Her hair was loose, tightly coiled curls brushing her bare back. Her dress was daring, but carefully so. A slit on each side showed off more of her long legs than a mini skirt while somehow still being classy, and the plunging back made up for any sense of modesty the conservative front gave. Ellie was slender with toned muscles, but the cut of the dress softened her curves.
On the balcony, away from the party and the Charlestonians who had stared at them both openly, he could almost forget the way his stomach had dropped when the man in the river had tried to climb on top of her.
“You make Mother happy,” Ellie told him, plopping down gracefully onto a wicker loveseat and spreading her knees so the fabric of her dress fell between them.
He tilted his chin in the direction of her unladylike pose with a laugh. “Why don’t you get comfortable? Is that why you chose the dress?”
She shot him a look. “Hey, if I’m going to sit down at one of these events, at least I can be comfortable.”
“Your mother would be appalled.”
“Everything appalls my mother.” She glared at the towering silver heels and rolled her ankle with tight lips. “At least my Louboutins should please her.”
Nick sat down beside her and patted his lap. “Give it here.”
“It’s all right.”
“Don’t argue. You know I’m going to win this one.” He pointed at his thigh, insisting. If he couldn’t make out with her on the balcony, he knew the second best way to make her melt in his hands.
“Fine.” She sighed, turning so the high arm of the sofa was at her back and placed her feet on his thighs. She rested her temple against the back of the sofa and watched him.
“What?” He unbuckled the straps and slipped her shoes off.
She threw her head back when he pressed his thumb into her arch. “You’re so good at that.”
“Maybe I raid your closet while you’re gone,” he teased.
“You don’t have a key.”
He kept his gaze on her feet as he said, “We should fix that.”
“Hard pass.”
He laughed, hoping it sounded genuine. “It was worth a shot.”
“I’m surprised my parents haven’t given you one. It is their building, after all.”
She flinched as his fingers loosened the tight muscles in her feet that begged for relief. “Come on, they’re not that overbearing.”
“Just protective. And they ask about you all the time.”
That piqued his interest, and he looked up. The drinks had definitely gone to her head. “About what?”
“If you’ve proposed yet, and…” She tilted her head. “Well, I guess that’s it.”
“You’d have to accept my request to go steady first.”
She laughed, her green eyes shining like precious gems. His heart clenched, and he wondered how many trips to the “friend zone” it would take before that feeling faded. “Go steady? What an archaic concept. I like the way we are. What we have is good, right?”
He smiled and nodded. “It is.” It was, but he still wanted more. She let her head fall back against the cushion, eyes closed, and a tender smile on her lips. “Feeling a little fuzzy?”
“Not buzzed, just good.”
“You look tired.” She moaned when he took one foot in each hand and started rubbing.
“You know how to make a girl feel pretty,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “I busted my ass today.”
“You did. And you still made an appearance tonight. If you wanted to leave, no one would blame you.”
This perked her up a little, then she sagged against the sofa, and her head rolled back. “I’m not sure I want this to end right now.”
“We can pick up where we leave off at my place.” He shrugged. “Or yours.”
“I’d rather be alone tonight.”
He held in a sigh, working his way up her ankle to her calf, but he couldn’t hold in the words. “Isn’t that every night?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean I can’t hope to change your mind.”
Her expression turned serious. “I hope you don’t think I’m leading you on.”
“No, of course not. I know who you are, Ellie, and your quirks. Part of loving you is embracing that.”
She was silent for a moment as she frowned. “I…appreciate that.”
“I’m glad, because it’s not easy.”
“I know there are plenty of eligible bachelorettes fawning over you, and yet you sit here with me in the dark, rubbing my feet. That golden-brown hair of yours and those dark blue eyes drive all the girls mad.”
“They’re mad if they think they measure up to you.” He leaned over and kissed her, resting one hand on her bare thigh.
She leaned into his kiss, then broke away and bit her lip. “I’m really exhausted, and the aches are setting in. Can you take me home? I rode here in an Uber.”
Nick laughed. “An Uber? Do your parents know?”
“I’m sure they’ve already heard about it. It was a particularly obnoxious shade of bright yellow.”
He stood and held out his hand, holding her strappy heels in his other. Barefoot, she let him lead her through the crowd and toward the exit. He caught sight of Helen Kline, who beamed when he nodded in her direction. Her smile faltered when she took in her daughter traipsing across the dance floor in bare feet sans stockings, but she hid her feelings with the same practiced precision his own mother employed—nothing but contentment on the woman’s face.
“My mother can overlook anything when you’re involved,” Ellie said as if reading his thoughts. “Maybe you should join Charleston PD
.”
“And risk being disowned while my parents funnel every cent of my vast inheritance to charities?” He smiled and winked at her. “I’ll consider it.”
“You’re a mess.”
“And you’re not stepping onto that nasty sidewalk without shoes on.” He scooped her up, careful to preserve her modesty despite the dress’s attempts to foil him. She was light, the skin of her arms soft as they went around his neck, and she leaned against him.
The valet noticed them long before Nick started down the stairs. By the time he was at the bottom, his Porsche Cayenne was at the curb, passenger door already open.
He sat Ellie down on the butter-soft leather, then kissed her forehead as he buckled her in.
“Is this another new one?” she asked as he pulled away from the curb.
“I donated the last one. It brought quite a bit at auction.”
“And the one before that.”
He shrugged, gripping the steering wheel that still felt a bit alien in his hands. “As long as it’s for a good cause, right?”
“Wouldn’t it be simpler to just keep what you have and donate the money?”
“The cars bring in more than they’re worth at charity auctions. Besides, I love that new car smell.”
She relaxed in the seat, stretching her long legs. “They make those little trees to hang from the mirror in that exact scent.”
“It’s not the same.” He gestured at the line of restaurants out the window. “You want dessert? Coffee?”
“I’m sorry. I just want to go home. Rain check?”
“I’ll add it to the growing pile.” He winked at her when she rolled her eyes. “At this rate, I’ll have to take you on a year-long vacation in Fiji to use all those rain checks.”
“You’re the best,” she said when he turned down Queen Street.
“You deserve that and more.”
She shifted in her seat, but when he reached for her hand, she took it. He’d known Ellie since they were in high school, and he’d loved her from that first look. But she was different from most Charleston-born women, who were taught from birth to bow to the old ways—engagement, marriage, babies. Ellie was fierce, independent, strong, and stubborn. No man was going to tame her against her will, and Nick wasn’t fool enough to try. She had enough people in her life telling her how to act and who to be. And Nick wasn’t interested in clipping her wings.
Even if that meant waiting an eternity for Ellie to take the next step. Like fine wine, she was worth the wait.
Ellie closed the door of her apartment and waited until Nick’s footsteps faded down the hallway.
The urge to invite him in had been strong, but tonight wasn’t the night for that. She was exhausted and raw from challenging her parents, not to mention needing some space before she got the ass-chewing she knew was coming tomorrow.
She made sure he was long gone before she finished locking the door for the night. Nick had commented on the extra locks before, but she’d had a floor bolt installed since then, and she didn’t want to explain. They weren’t because of fear or paranoia, but the reality of the situations she’d witnessed since graduating from the police academy and working the streets.
Charleston, for the most part, was a vibrant tourist town. But under the cover of night, the city had secrets just like every city did, and Ellie knew the only way she’d get any sleep was to make sure no one could surprise her when she was at her most vulnerable. The locks wouldn’t prevent every determined criminal, but they were enough to give her peace of mind.
Her muscles screaming with every step, she moved through her apartment slowly. Surprised to see it was only quarter ‘til eight, she stepped out of her dress and hung it by the bedroom door so she wouldn’t forget to send it to the cleaners over the weekend. The basket of laundry she’d washed days ago was still on the couch. She grabbed a loose t-shirt and pulled it over her head and padded through the house in her bare feet to make herself something to eat. The grocery service delivered on Saturdays, and her large, brightly lit refrigerator held just enough to last until then. She settled for a turkey sandwich with artisan Havarti cheese paired with a large glass of water.
She checked her messages, wincing when Danver’s angry voice echoed in the rafters, then she skipped through a dozen messages from news outlets that wanted an official interview. Like everything and everyone else, they were going to have to wait until tomorrow. It was only Thursday, which meant she had one more day of work before she could take off, and she needed her rest so she could placate Sergeant Danver in the morning.
She wasn’t in the least bit interested in on-camera interviews. With any luck, she’d be able to dodge them long enough for something else to grab their attention and make them forget about the police officer who was only doing her job.
The fact that all of Charleston was in awe of what she’d done got under her skin. Yes, she’d gone above and beyond to get a dangerous man off the streets, but would a male officer who did the same attract this much attention? Or was it that she was a Kline? Whatever the reason, she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in a good book and a warm bath. Tomorrow was a new day. The world could wait until then.
By the time she made it across the four-bedroom apartment to the master bedroom, she’d finished the last bite of sandwich, and the glass was half-empty. She set it on the edge of the jet tub and turned on the water to steaming in hopes of working most of the stiffness out of her body before bed. The paramedic’s warning played in her head, and as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew he was right. Tomorrow was going to hurt.
“It was worth it,” she whispered with a smile as she sank below the jasmine and vanilla scented bubbles.
The book she’d left on the edge of the tub the last time she’d soaked beckoned. She tried to read, but the true crime novel couldn’t hold her attention. Her mother’s voice kept interrupting, and after reading the same sentence fifteen times, Ellie gave up.
Her mother wasn’t going to change, and after dealing with Helen’s intrusions for twenty-seven years, Ellie knew she should’ve made peace with it. Helen Kline came from old money—the Cushing side of the family—and in their circle, women ran houses and charities, and they did it smelling like a freshly plucked rose, not a swampy river.
Despite how offensive Helen’s views on a woman’s place in the world could be, Ellie knew deep down that her mother truly believed the rich did the most good from the safety of a desk with a landline. Collecting donations and organizing events were Helen’s forte, and though Ellie had spent most of her teen years making up for her mistakes, there was no amount of guilt that could force her to enjoy stamping envelopes and calling bored, rich housewives to donate to a cause. She didn’t have it in her, not the way she had policework coursing through her veins.
Helen would never understand, and her mother’s steadfast belief that she was right prevented her from accepting Ellie’s path in the world. Blake and Dan Jr. were comfortable following their parents’ lead, but Ellie wasn’t her brothers. Even Wesley was too easily molded into their vision for him. He always stood up for Ellie, but in the end, their mother would force an end to the conversation when she wasn’t winning. For once, she wanted her mother to focus on listening to what she had to say and not plan her next rebuttal.
“I’m not going to change,” Ellie declared to the empty bathroom. “This is my life, and no one is going to tell me how to live it.”
But her mother’s voice haunted her. Ellie had defied her parents once before with a disastrous outcome, and Helen had never let her forget it. Not that her father’s failing health didn’t slap her in the face every time she looked at him. Every time she saw him, he was more frail—a fragile shadow of the man he once was, before that night. No matter how she framed it, her rebellious nature had and still did cause him great stress. Short of quitting the force, nothing was going to change that.
She drained the tub, dried off, and put on her softest pajamas. She threw herself on
the bed, red hair still damp, the sheets soft against her skin. She intended to sleep until the last possible second before she had to be at work in the morning.
In the dark room, the light from the moon bled through the blinds and shimmered on the polished wood floors. She blinked, her heart leaping one beat, fighting sleep for an instant before she gave in to the darkness that crept in.
She thought about the man in the river, his voice thin and high like a little girl’s, screaming about gators.
At least someone is having a worse day than me, she mused, a smile touching her lips as her eyes grew heavy.
No matter what Helen said, and no matter how much Danver yelled at her in the morning, one thing was certain.
A jail cell held a man whose most embarrassing moment had been broadcast live for all the world to see. If he could survive that, Ellie could handle her parents.
She reminded herself that she’d been kidnapped and hit by a police car, all at the age of fifteen. At least that was what she’d been told.
If she could only remember.
If she could only see past the darkness of that memory, see the cold truth of what happened during those hours after she’d lied to her parents. See…him. The man whose voice sometimes rang in her ear.
Try as she might, the memories wouldn’t come. They taunted her. Teased her. Played with her emotions. Threatened to sometimes drive her mad.
6
One cup of coffee in each hand, Ellie nodded at the officer who stopped to hold the door open for her at the Charleston PD Headquarters early the next morning.
“Helluva collar,” he said with a wide smile.
“Thanks.” She slipped through the door, trying to avoid eye contact as the briefing room she entered went silent. Several officers wore admiration on their faces, mixed with something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Her stiff shoulders screamed even under the small weight of the large cups of steaming liquid, but she forced her face to remain passive. She was going to get through this day if it killed her.
