by Diana Palmer
He was just leaving the office for lunch when Jessica Larson walked up to him on the street.
“I need to get your opinion on something,” she said, and without preamble, caught his big, lean hand in hers and began to drag him off toward a parked car nearby.
“Now, hold it,” he growled, hating and loving the feel of her soft hand in his.
“Don’t grumble,” she chided. “It won’t hurt a bit. I just want you to talk to these young people for me before they make a big mistake.” She paused at the beat-up old Chevy, where two teenagers sat guiltily in the front seat. They didn’t look old enough to be out of school.
“This is Deputy McCallum,” Jessica told the teens. “Ben and Amy want to get married,” she explained to him. “Their parents are against it. Ben is seventeen and Amy is sixteen. I’ve told them that any marriage they make can be legally annulled by her parents because she’s under age. Will you tell them that, too?”
He wasn’t sure about the statutes on marriageable age in Montana, having never had occasion or reason to look them up. But he was pretty sure the girl was under the age of consent, and he knew what Jessica wanted him to say. He could bluff when he had to.
“She’s absolutely right,” he told them. “A minor can’t legally marry without written permission from a parent. It would be terrible for you to have to—”
“She’s pregnant,” Ben mumbled, red-faced, and looked away. “I tried to get her to have it… Well, to not have it, really. She won’t listen. She says we have to get married or her folks’ll kill her.”
Jessica hadn’t counted on that complication. She stood there, stunned.
McCallum squatted down beside the car and looked at Amy, who was obviously upset. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?” he asked her gently. “These are big decisions that need thought.”
While Jessica looked on, stunned by the tenderness in McCallum’s deep voice, Amy began to warm to him. “I don’t know if I’m pregnant, really,” she confessed slowly. “I think I am.”
“Shouldn’t you find out for sure, before you wind up in a marriage neither of you is ready for?” he asked evenly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then the obvious next step is to see a doctor, isn’t it?”
She grimaced. “My dad’ll kill me.”
“I’ll speak to your parents,” Jessica promised her. “They won’t kill you. They’re good people, and they love you. You’re their only child.”
“I’d just love to have a baby,” Amy said dreamily, looking at Ben with fantasy-filled eyes that didn’t even see his desperation, his fear. “We can have a house of our own, and I can get a job….”
McCallum looked hard at Jessica.
“Let’s go over to your parents’ house, Amy,” she said. She had McCallum firmly by the hand again, and she wasn’t about to let go. “I’m sure Deputy McCallum won’t mind coming with us,” she added, daring him to say no.
He gave up plans for a hamburger and fries and told his stomach to shut up. Resignedly, he helped Jessica into his car, and they followed the teens to Amy’s house.
“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jessica commented after the ordeal was finally over. “She’ll see a doctor and then get counseling if she needs it. And there won’t be a rushed marriage with no hope of success. They didn’t even blame Ben too much.”
“Why should they?” he muttered as he negotiated a right turn. “She’s the one with dreams of babies and happy ever after, not him. He just wants to finish high school and go on to veterinary college.”
“Ah, the man’s eternal argument. ‘Eve tempted me with the apple.’”
He glanced at her musingly. “Most women can lead a man straight to bed with very little conscious effort. Especially a young man.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never led anyone to my bed with conscious effort or without it.” She stemmed the memories that thoughts of intimacy resurrected.
“Have you wanted to?”
The question, coming from such an impersonal sort of man, surprised her. “Why…no.”
“Have you let the opportunity present itself?” he persisted.
She straightened her skirt unnecessarily. “I’m sorry I made you miss your lunch.”
He let the subject go. “How do you know you did?”
“Oh, you always go to lunch at eleven-thirty,” she remarked. “I see you crossing over to the café from my office.”
He chuckled softly, and it wasn’t until she saw the speculation on his face that she realized why.
“I wasn’t…watching you, for God’s sake!” she blurted out, reddening.
“Really?” he teased. “You mean I’ve mistaken that hero worship in your eyes all this time?”
Her dark eyes glared at him. “You are very conceited.”
“Made so by a very expressive young face,” he countered. He glanced at her while they paused at a stop sign. “Don’t build a pedestal under me, Jessie,” he said, using a nickname for her for the first time. “I’m not tame enough for a woman like you.”
She gaped at him. “If you think that I…!”
Incredibly, he caught the back of her head with a steely hand and leaned over her with slow, quiet intent. His dark eyes fell to her shocked mouth and he tugged gently until her mouth was a fraction below his. She could taste his minty breath, feel the heat of his mouth threatening her lips. She could feel the restrained passion in his long, fit body as it loomed over hers.
“You’re afraid of me,” he whispered into her mouth. “And it has nothing to do with that bad experience you had. It isn’t the kind of fear that causes nightmares. It’s the kind that makes your body swell hard with desire.”
While she was absorbing the muted shock the words produced, his mouth lowered to touch and tease her soft lips in tender, biting kisses that made her muscles go rigid with sensation. Her hand caught at his shirt, searching for something to hold on to while she spun out of reality altogether. Her nails bit into his chest.
He groaned under his breath. “You’d be a handful,” he whispered. “And if you were a different sort of woman, I’d accept with open arms the invitation you’re making me right now.”
“What…invitation?”
His nose rubbed against hers. “This one.”
He brought his mouth down over her parted lips with real intent, feeling them open and shiver convulsively as he deepened the pressure. She whimpered, and the sound shot through him like fire. He abruptly drew back.
His breathing was a little quick, but his expression showed none of the turmoil that kissing her had aroused in him.
She was slower to recover. Her face was flushed, and her mouth was red, swollen from the hard pressure of his lips. She looked at him with wide-eyed surprise.
“You’re like a little violet under a doorstep,” he commented quietly. “A lovely surprise waiting to be discovered.”
She couldn’t find the words to express what she felt.
He touched her soft mouth. “Don’t worry about it. Someday the right man will come along. I’m not him.”
“Why did you do that?” she whispered in a choked voice.
“Because you wanted me to, Jessica,” he drawled. “You’ve watched me for months, wondering how it would feel if I kissed you. Okay. Now you know.”
Her eyes darkened with something like pain. She averted them.
“What did you expect?” he mused, pulling the car back out into the road. “I’m not a teenager on his first date. I know exactly what to do with a woman. But you’re off-limits, sweetheart. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“I haven’t asked you to marry me, have I?” she asked, bouncing back.
He smiled appreciatively. “Not yet.”
“And you can hold your breath until I do.” She pushed back a disheveled strand of hair. “I’m not getting mixed up with you.”
“You like kissing me.”
She glared at him. “I like kissing my
cat, too, McCallum,” she said maliciously.
“Ouch!”
She nodded her head curtly. “Now how arrogant do you feel?”
He chuckled. “Well, as one of my history professors was fond of saying, ‘I’ve always felt that arrogance was a very admirable quality in a man.’”
She rolled her eyes.
He drove back into town, but he didn’t stop at her office. He kept going until he reached the Hip Hop Café, a small restaurant on the southeast corner of Amity Lane and Center.
She glanced at him uncertainly.
“If I haven’t eaten, I know you haven’t,” he explained.
“All right. But I pay for my own food.”
His eyes slowly wandered over her face. “I like independence,” he said unexpectedly.
“Do I care?” she asked with mock surprise.
He smiled. “Fix your lipstick before we go inside, or everyone’s going to know what we’ve been doing.”
She wouldn’t blush, she wouldn’t blush, she wouldn’t…!
All the same, her cheeks were pink in the compact mirror she used as she reapplied her lipstick and powdered her nose.
McCallum had taken the time to wipe the traces of pink off his own firm mouth with his handkerchief.
“Next time, I’ll get rid of that lipstick before I start,” he murmured.
“Oh, you’d be so lucky!” she hissed.
He lifted an eyebrow over wise, soft eyes. “Or you would. It gets better, the deeper you go. You cried out, and I hadn’t even touched you. Imagine, Jessica, how it would feel if I did.”
She was out of the car before he finished speaking. She should go back to her office and leave him standing there. He was wicked to tease her about something she couldn’t control. It didn’t occur to her that he might be overcompensating for the desire he’d felt with her. Experienced he might be, but it had been a while since he’d had a woman and Jessica went right to his head. He hadn’t realized it was going to be so fulfilling to kiss her. And it seemed to be addictive, because it was all he could think about.
“I won’t let you torment me,” she said, walking ahead of him to the door. “And before we go any farther, you’d better remember that Whitehorn isn’t that big. Everybody knows everybody else’s business. If I go in there with you, people are going to talk about us.”
He had one hand in his pocket, the other on the door handle. He searched her eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. He opened the door deliberately.
It was a quiet, companionable lunch. There were a few interested looks, including a sad one from a young waitress who had a hopeless crush on McCallum. But people were discreet enough not to stare at them.
“After all, we could be talking over a case,” Jessica said.
He frowned at her. “Does it really matter?” he asked. “You’re very sensitive to gossip. Why?”
She shrugged, averting her eyes. “Nobody likes being talked about.”
“I don’t know that I ever have been since I’ve come back,” he said idly. He sipped his coffee. “And with your spotless reputation, it’s hardly likely to think that you have,” he added with a chuckle.
She picked up her coffee cup, steadying it with her other hand. “Thank you for helping me with Amy and Ben.”
“Did I have a choice? I wonder if there isn’t a law against deputy sheriffs being kidnapped by overconscientious social workers. And while we’re on the subject of laws, that one about underage marriages is one I’ll have to look up or ask Hensley about. I’ve never had cause to use it before.”
“You may again. We’ve had several cases like Amy and Ben over the years.”
“What if she is pregnant?” he asked.
“Then she’ll have choices and people to help her make them.”
He glared at her.
“I know that look,” she said softly. “I even understand it. But you have to consider that sometimes what’s best for a young girl isn’t necessarily what you feel is right.”
“What if I lost my head one dark night and got you pregnant, Jessica?” He leaned back, his eyes narrowed. “What would you do in Amy’s place?”
The color that rushed into her face was a revelation. She spilled a bit of coffee onto the table.
“Well, well,” he murmured softly.
She put the cup down and mopped up the coffee with napkins. “You love shocking me, don’t you?”
“Never mind the shock. Answer me. What would you do?”
She bit her lower lip. “The correct thing…”
He caught her hand and held it tight in his. “Not the correct thing, or the sensible thing, or even the decent thing. What would you do?” he asked evenly.
“Oh, I’d keep it,” she said, angry at being pushed into answering a question that would not, could not, ever arise. It hurt her to remember how barren she was. “I’m just brimming over with motherly instincts, old-fashioned morality and an overworked sense of duty. But what I’m trying to make you see is that regardless of my opinion, I have no right to force my personal sense of right and wrong on the rest of the world!”
He forgot the social issue in the heat of the moment, as he allowed himself to wonder how it would feel to create a child with Jessica. It made him feel…odd.
Jessica saw the speculation in his eyes and all her old inadequacies came rushing back. “McCallum,” she began, wondering whether or not to tell him about her condition.
His fingers linked with hers, his thumb smoothing over them. “You’re twenty-five, aren’t you? I’m ten years older.”
“Yes, I know. McCallum…”
His eyes lifted to catch hers. “My first name is Sterling,” he said.
“That’s an unusual name. Was it in your family?”
He shrugged. “My mother never said.” Memories of his mother filled his mind. He withdrew, mentally and physically. He pulled his hand slowly away from Jessica’s. “Maybe it was the name of her favorite brand of gin, who knows?”
She grimaced, hating that pain in his eyes. She wanted to soothe him, to comfort him.
He looked up and saw the expression on her face. It made him furious.
“I don’t need pity,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Is that how I looked? I’m sorry. It disturbs me to see how badly your past has affected you, that’s all.” She smiled. “I know. I’m a hopeless do-gooder. But think, McCallum—if you’d had someone who really cared what happened to you, wouldn’t it have changed your whole life?”
He averted his eyes. “Facts are facts. We can’t go back and change the past.”
“I know that. If we could, think how many people would leap at the chance.”
“True,” he agreed.
She studied him over her cup. “This town must hold some bad memories for you. Why did you come back after all these years?”
“I got tired of my job,” he replied. “I can’t even talk about it, do you know? It was all classified. Let’s just say that I got into a situation I couldn’t handle for the first time in my life, and I got out. I don’t regret it. I manage better here than I ever dreamed I would. I’m not rich, but I’m comfortable, and I like my job and the people I work with. Besides,” he added, “the memories weren’t all bad. I have a few good ones tucked away. They keep me going when I need them.”
“And was there ever a special woman?” she asked, deliberately not looking at him.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Women, plural,” he replied. “Not just one woman. They all knew the score. I made sure of it and I’m a loner. I don’t want to change.”
Jessica felt a vague disappointment.
“Were you hoping?” he taunted.
She glared at him. “For what? You, with a bow around your neck on Christmas morning? It’s a long time until Christmas, McCallum, and you’d look silly in gift wrapping.”
“Probably so.” He studied her. “I wonder how you’d look in a long red stocking?”
“Dead, because that’s the only way I
’d ever end up in one. Heavens, look at the time! I’ve got my desk stacked halfway to the ceiling. I have to go!”
“So do I,” he agreed. “The days are never long enough to cope with all the paperwork, even in my job.”
“In everyone’s job. God knows how many trees die every day to satisfy bureaucrats. Know what I think they do with all those triplicate copies? I think they make confetti and store it for parades.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” He pushed away his empty cup, stood up, laid a bill on the table, picked up the check and walked to the counter with it.
Jessica dug out a five-dollar bill and paid her share.
“Late lunch, huh, McCallum?” the waitress asked with an inviting smile.
“Yeah.” He smiled back at her. “Thanks, Daisy.”
She colored prettily. She was barely twenty, redheaded, cute and totally infatuated with McCallum.
He opened the door for Jessica and walked her back to his car.
“Thanks for your help,” she told him with genuine appreciation. “Those kids needed more of a talking to than I could give them. There’s something about a uniform…” she added with a gleam in her eyes. Of course she was kidding; McCallum, a plainclothesman, wasn’t wearing a uniform.
“Tell me about it.” He’d already discovered that uniforms attracted women. It was something most career law-enforcement officers learned how to deal with early.
“Have you found out anything about Jennifer?” she asked on the way back to her office.
He detailed the bits and pieces he’d been following up. “But with no luck. Do you know any midwives around the community?” he asked. “Someone who would be able to deliver a child and could do it without telling half the world?”
Jessica pursed her lips. “One or two women come to mind. I’ll look into it.”
“Thanks.”
He stopped at her office and waited, with the car idling, for her to get out.
“I’ll let you know how things go with Amy,” she offered.
He looked at her with an expression that bordered on dislike. It had flattered him that she kept asking for his help, and she seemed to like his company. But he liked kissing her too much, and that made him irritable. He didn’t want a social worker to move into his life. He was weakening toward her, and he couldn’t afford that. “I don’t remember asking for a follow-up report,” he said, deliberately being difficult.
