* * *
Nick had always prided himself on control. That’s what made it so impossible to believe he’d just gone against every shred of intelligence he’d amassed over the last thirty-eight years, and kissed Erin McNeal. His deputy, for Pete’s sake! A woman with a wild streak that ran right down the center of what was probably a very pretty back. What was the matter with him, reacting like an oversexed schoolboy, when he was grown man with a man’s responsibilities?
But Nick knew that kiss wasn’t the worst of it. He’d wanted her with the kind of urgency he hadn’t felt for…too long to acknowledge. If she hadn’t pulled away, he wouldn’t have stopped. Not with one kiss. Not even with two. How the hell was he going to handle this?
“Damn you, Frank,” he murmured.
Pausing at his truck, he risked a glance at the window of her second-floor apartment. The lights were still on. He was still aroused, and the frustration pounding in his groin annoyed him no end.
Gritting his teeth, he unlocked the truck door and slid inside. He’d have to be careful in the coming weeks. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, maybe he was more vulnerable than he’d thought. Not emotionally, he assured himself, but physically. After all, a man’s needs could be shoved aside for only so long. Nick needed female companionship. Stephanie would eventually get used to the idea of having a woman around. Maybe a woman would help fill the void in both their lives.
What Nick didn’t need was Erin McNeal. Just because she made him hot around the collar didn’t mean she was right for him. She was exactly the kind of woman he wouldn’t bring into Stephanie’s life. His little girl had already been hurt once by a reckless adult. He’d rip out his own heart before he’d let that happen again.
It struck him then that Erin was the first woman he’d kissed since Rita’s death. That it hadn’t been a chaste kiss disturbed him and made him realize he’d taken a step into yet uncharted territory.
Unexpectedly, the old, familiar pain stirred deep in his chest, the wound so newly healed that it still bled when probed. Nick rode the waves of pain, surprised by their force after three long years. The grief still cut him on occasion. Rita’s death had taken something vital out of him, bits and pieces that could never be replaced. Nick had vowed the day he buried her that he would never again put himself through the agony of loving someone.
Shoving thoughts of Rita ruthlessly aside, he muttered an oath, his voice sounding low and rough in the silence of his truck. Erin McNeal was off-limits. Not only to protect himself, but to protect Stephanie. After what had happened today, Nick knew with the utter certainty of a man who’d already experienced hell that Erin would hurt them both if he allowed it. No matter how much he wanted her, no matter how much he liked the way she looked, or respected her as a police officer, he could never allow himself to care.
Slamming the truck into gear, he pulled onto the street and started for home. No, he assured himself, he didn’t care about Erin. She didn’t need him looking out for her. If she wanted to self-destruct, that was her business.
Hopefully, he would be able to talk Mrs. Thornsberry into sitting with her tonight. Nick knew it was a cop-out, but he wasn’t up to it—even if Erin was one of his deputies. The fact of the matter was he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been prepared for that kiss. He’d seen the shock on Erin’s face as well. Another reason stacked on top of a dozen others to keep his distance. The more successful he was at avoiding her, he decided, the better off they’d both be in the long run.
CHAPTER 6
Erin didn’t want to think about the kiss. She didn’t want to deal with the reality that in the instant Nick’s mouth had been pressed against hers the world had melted away and nothing existed except the moment between them. The ramifications of that line of thinking were too dangerous—even for a risk taker like herself. To acknowledge that he’d been on her mind every waking hour since was to admit she was susceptible to him. That she’d wanted him to kiss her. That she wanted him to kiss her again.
She refused to believe any of those things.
Erin figured she was getting pretty good at denial.
As she left the town limits and drove toward his house, she told herself the only reason she was going to Stephanie’s party was for the little girl’s sake. She might be a difficult child, but considering the hand she’d been dealt—namely the death of her mother and a devastating spinal injury—Erin couldn’t blame her. She couldn’t ignore her birthday. Steph needed every ounce of kindness the adults around her could give.
Erin knew it would only make things worse if she alienated herself from Nick. He might have the wrong idea about her, and they might have different philosophies on police work and law enforcement in general. They’d definitely made a mistake with the embrace and that fateful kiss. But he was still her boss, and this job was too important to blow because of something as silly as a kiss. Come hell or high water, she was going to make it work.
Just because she’d barely seen him in the last week didn’t mean that encounter had affected their professional relationship. It didn’t mean he was avoiding her. Or that she couldn’t look him in the eye. They were adults, she told herself for the hundredth time. They could handle this. Dammit, she could handle it, even if he couldn’t.
Shoving thoughts of Nick aside, she looked down at the wrapped package on the passenger seat beside her and smiled. It had taken her most of the day yesterday—her day off—and a trip to Chicago, but she’d finally found the perfect gift for Stephanie. A veil of satisfaction settled over her; she couldn’t wait to see that little girl smile.
Five minutes later, she pulled into the driveway and parked next to Nick’s Suburban. Though it was early evening, she’d expected to see kids playing on the swing set or shooting baskets in the hoop by the garage. But the yard was deserted. Bandito grazed contentedly near the fence, swatting flies with a tail that was a little too long, a little too tangled. There were no laughing children. No games of hide-and-seek. No adults lounging in lawn chairs. Beside Nick’s Suburban and Mrs. Thornsberry’s old Buick, the only other car there was Hector’s.
Lifting the package, she got out of the cruiser and made her way to the front door. She told herself she wasn’t nervous about seeing Nick. She wasn’t here to see him, though the fact that she would was inevitable. Still, the thought of facing him after the kiss they’d shared made her palms sweat.
She told herself it was silly to get nervous over a friendly embrace that had gotten out of hand. This was a kid’s birthday party, for goodness sake. Erin was on her dinner hour and only had about forty-five minutes before she had to get back to her shift. Enough time, she mused, to give Stephanie her gift and grab that piece of cake Mrs. Thornsberry had promised. And maybe even show Nick she wasn’t avoiding him—since that kiss obviously hadn’t meant a thing to either of them.
Wiping her damp palms on her uniform slacks, Erin rang the bell. Her heart stopped dead in her chest when the man in question opened the door. She’d never seen Nick out of uniform, and the sight of him made her feel light-headed. It didn’t surprise her that he looked even better in faded jeans. The black Polo shirt he wore made his eyes look darker. She wondered if he was one of those people whose eyes changed with their moods.
For several long seconds she stood silently, praying he didn’t see the color she felt rising in her cheeks. “Hi,” she said, hefting the package. “I wanted to bring this by.”
“McNeal,” he acknowledged finally, eyeing the package. “How’s the head?”
“Still pretty hard.”
He didn’t smile, but Erin saw the flash of amusement in his dark eyes. “Good thing, I guess, all things considered.”
The silence built for a moment. He made no move to invite her inside. Feeling awkward, she looked down at her boots.
“You were scheduled to work tonight,” he said.
She’d tried to convince herself his decision to schedule her for work didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he didn
’t want to see her. Of course, she wasn’t at all concerned about that. Just because Hector’s car was in the driveway didn’t mean she should be invited to the party, too, did it?
“I’m on my dinner hour,” she said quickly. “I’ve only got a few minutes.” Not knowing what else to say or do, she shoved the package at him. “I wanted to make sure Stephanie got this.”
He took the box. “Uh…thanks. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
“Great.”
Erin told herself she wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t going to invite her inside. That she hadn’t wanted to see Stephanie’s eyes light up. Or see Nick smile. She’d only known them a little over a week. It wasn’t like she was a friend he would invite to his daughter’s birthday party. Still, the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach was acute.
“Oh, Erin!”
She jumped at the sound of Mrs. Thornsberry’s voice, and watched the woman approach. “I’m so glad you came. I had to fight off Hector to save you a piece of cake. I hope you like German chocolate.”
Nick frowned. “She’s on duty, Em.”
“For heaven’s sake, there aren’t any rules against police officers indulging in birthday cake while on duty.” Mrs. Thornsberry smiled sweetly at Erin. “There’s a big piece with your name on it in the kitchen.”
Erin returned the smile, torn between not wanting to irritate Nick and appeasing the nanny. She’d wanted to give Stephanie the gift herself, but he seemed adamantly opposed to her staying. “Thanks, Mrs. Thornsberry, but—”
“Nick, where are your manners?” the older woman scolded. “Aren’t you going to invite her in?”
Nick shot the woman a dark look.
“For goodness sakes, she’s got time for a piece of cake.” Giving him an annoyed glance over her shoulder, Mrs. Thornsberry headed for the living room.
Erin’s discomfort grew. Nick obviously wasn’t happy to see her. It was clear he didn’t want her there. Glancing back at her cruiser, she took a step back. “I’ve got to get back—”
“It’s all right.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude.”
His gaze locked with hers. Erin felt stripped bare by the power behind it. She’d never had a difficult time with eye contact, but Nick’s gaze was so intense she couldn’t hold it.
“I figured we probably couldn’t avoid each other much longer,” he said in a low voice.
She looked anywhere but into those dark, dangerous eyes of his. “I wasn’t—”
“Avoidance probably isn’t a good strategy, anyway, considering we work together.”
Heat suffused her cheeks. Something warm and jumpy fluttered in her chest when images of the kiss came to her unbidden. The feel of his mouth against hers. The way he’d wrapped her in his arms. The hardness of his body as he pulled her close.
She wanted to say something flippant, maybe just to prove to him that blasted kiss hadn’t affected her in the least, but the power of speech seemed to have left her. She stepped past him, and every nerve ending in her body went on alert when the tangy essence of his aftershave curled around her brain. The memory of the kiss sharpened, expanded, until it filled her with a longing she wanted desperately to deny.
Nick motioned toward the hall. “I appreciate you bringing a gift. It wasn’t necessary, but I’m sure Steph will like it.”
Feeling breathless and off-kilter, Erin started down the hall, wishing she’d heeded her own common sense and brought the gift by when Nick wasn’t home.
They reached the living room a moment later. Hector nodded a greeting from his place on the sofa. Mrs. Thornsberry looked on from the kitchen doorway. Steph sat in her wheelchair in the center of the room, surrounded by crumpled wrapping paper and assorted gifts.
“Hi, Steph,” Erin said. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
Her heart melted when the little girl smiled. Such a pretty smile. Too bad she didn’t do it more often.
“Dad got me a new easel for sketching,” she said. “Want to see my new pad?”
“Sure.” Erin took the pad from her, feeling inept, since she didn’t know a thing about sketching, and opened it to feel the texture of the paper. “Very nice. What do you sketch?”
“Sometimes I sketch Bandito. Sometimes my mom, but I’m not very good at faces, so I mostly just make stuff up. I’m pretty good at evening gowns and dresses, too.”
“Ah, a budding clothes designer,” Erin said.
Pride jumped into the little girl’s eyes, and her grin widened. “My dad says I’m going to give Liz Claiborne a run for her money.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Erin handed her the sketch pad. “Maybe you could show me your drawings sometime.”
“’Kay.”
Mrs. Thornsberry took Erin’s gift from Nick and set it on Stephanie’s lap. The little girl picked up the box and shook it. “Sure is big.”
Leaning against the wall with his arms folded, Nick smiled at his daughter, the first genuine smile Erin had seen since she’d walked in.
“Have at it, honeybunch.” His gaze met Erin’s, the smile he’d given his daughter still flirting with his mouth.
He had one of the nicest smiles she’d ever seen. Too bad he didn’t use it more often. Disconcerted that she’d noticed something she shouldn’t have, she looked away.
Stephanie stripped the paper from the box. Erin watched, anticipation building in her chest. The little girl’s hands stilled. The crackle of wrapping paper stopped abruptly. Dead silence fell over the room. Stephanie stared at the bright orange basketball, blinking as if someone had just played a cruel joke on her.
“It’s a basketball,” she said dully.
Erin’s stomach went into a slow roll. Praying her carefully chosen gift didn’t turn into a negative experience for the girl, she stepped forward. “I saw the hoop above the garage door outside and thought you might like to start playing again.”
The little girl stared at Erin, her blue eyes wide with the kind of hurt Erin knew too well. She’d seen that look before; she’d felt it in her own heart a hundred times in the last several months. She knew intimately the harsh realities of shock and pain and betrayal. Her heart cramped in her chest when those bottomless blue eyes filled with tears.
“I can’t play basketball anymore,” Stephanie said in a small voice. “My legs…”
“Oh, honey, you can,” Erin said gently. “You can take lessons if you want to. Disabled people play basketball and win marathons and do all sorts of fun things.”
“I want to, but I can’t.” Stephanie looked at her father. “Why did she get this for me? I can’t play anymore.”
Erin’s breath jammed in her throat. The pain struck with such force that she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was press her hand to her breast and pray the little girl would understand. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt this child who had already been hurt so brutally.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Thornsberry said. “Steph, honey, I’m sure Erin didn’t mean—”
“I can’t play!” the girl cried. “I don’t want it.”
“But you can play, Steph,” Erin said. “Honey, I’ll teach you—”
“That’s enough.” Nick’s voice cracked through the air like cold steel being snapped in half.
The words jerked Erin’s gaze to his. His jaws were clamped tight, his hands clenched at his sides. He glared at her, his eyes as hard and infinitely cold as glacial ice.
She stared, vaguely aware that the room had become as quiet as a tomb. Hector gaped at her as if she’d just pulled out her pistol and shot the chandelier off the ceiling. Mrs. Thornsberry made a show of gathering gift wrap off the floor.
Erin looked at Stephanie. “I’m sorry,” she said helplessly.
Spinning the wheelchair, uttering a single, heart-wrenching cry, Stephanie fled from the room.
Mrs. Thornsberry and Nick started after her simultaneously, but the older woman stopped him. �
�Let me handle this one, Nick.”
He halted, uncertainty etched into his features as he watched her disappear down the hall.
Erin felt physically ill. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that the basketball would upset Stephanie. How could she have been so insensitive? Why had she expected that little girl to understand something no one had ever bothered to explain?
Erin’s gaze swept to Nick’s. She nearly winced at the anger she saw burning there. “I didn’t mean to upset her,” she said. “I didn’t think—”
“That’s your problem, McNeal,” he snapped. “You don’t think before you act.”
Erin stepped back, hurt that she’d been so terribly misunderstood, angered that her judgment had been called into question once again by a man whose opinion was becoming increasingly important to her.
Erin didn’t lose control of her emotions easily or break down in front of people at the drop of a hat. She’d learned the futility of tears at a very young age. But as she stood there taking in Nick’s angry expression, thinking of how badly she’d hurt that little girl, tears threatened her dignity.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Turning abruptly, she started for the door.
“Wait a minute.”
Erin didn’t stop. She didn’t trust her emotions not to betray her, and he was the last man on earth she wanted to break down in front of.
Letting herself out through the front door, she sucked in a breath of cool night air, thankful to be out of the house. When she reached the grass, she broke into a run.
The front door slammed behind her. Nick, she thought, and quickened her pace. When was she ever going to learn not to push the envelope in everything she did?
Blinded by the tears building behind her eyes, she stopped at her cruiser and fumbled for her keys.
“I’d like a word with you, McNeal.”
She looked over her shoulder to see him crossing the lawn. Terrific. Here she was about to lose it, and he wanted a word with her. She had to hand it to him—the guy had great timing.
Lay Down the Law Page 9
