Cavanaugh on Call

by Marie Ferrarella

  Having mentioned Bryce, Moira’s attention was drawn to her brother again. “Oh, and if this one gives you any trouble,” she told Scottie, nodding at her brother, “just come find me. I’ll put him in his place. I always did when we were growing up,” she added proudly before she took her full plate and melted back into the milling crowd.

  “She didn’t,” Bryce told Scottie once his sister had left. “But because it seems to mean so much to her, I let her think she did. Takes so little to make some people happy,” he observed wryly. And then he glanced at Scottie. “How about you?”

  Her mind was getting whiplash, Scottie thought, trying to keep up to the switching topics.

  “How about me what?” she asked, having no idea what her partner was referring to.

  “What does it take to make you happy?” he asked simply.

  Scottie fell back on generic answers. “Peace and quiet. A solved case.”

  “That’s it?” he questioned. “Nothing more?” He was confident there had to be even if she wasn’t willing to admit it.

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out,” she told him.

  She picked up her plate. The food looked good and she was hungry, Scottie realized. She looked around for somewhere to sit.

  “Hey, you two, come join us,” Brennen called out to his younger brother, waving him and Scottie over to one of the small tables set up throughout the backyard. Brennen was seated at the table with Tiana, his wife, a lively woman he had met while on the job. At the time, he’d been undercover and she had pretended to be someone else, too, determined to find her missing sister.

  Glancing at Bryce, Scottie expected her partner to usher her over to the table. He surprised her by giving her a choice in the matter.

  “We don’t have to join them if you don’t want to. I can find us a place to sit by ourselves if you feel like you need a break,” he told her.

  She thought the whole point of coming here was for her to mingle with different members of his extended family. “Why, are they obnoxious?”

  He wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not. He still wasn’t able to read her a hundred percent of the time, but he was working on it.

  “No, but sitting with them isn’t going to give you that peace and quiet you just mentioned you wanted,” he answered.

  Because he was giving her a choice, Scottie began to feel better about being there. And, if she was being completely honest, the people she was meeting were far more genuinely welcoming than she’d actually expected them to be.

  Scottie smiled and shrugged. “I guess I can always get that later.”

  And with that, she continued to make her way over to his brother’s table.

  “You, Alexandra Scott, are a hard woman to read,” Bryce whispered to her just before they reached Brennen’s table.

  His comment widened her smile. “And that’s the way I like it,” she answered just before she joined his older brother and sister-in-law.

  * * *

  The remainder of the afternoon continued on that path, with Scottie meeting one member of Bryce’s family after another until she felt as if she’d met at least half the precinct, not to mention the people who had married them. Liberally sprinkled into this group were the children who were the offspring of all these Cavanaughs who had first and foremost all sworn to protect and to serve.

  Before she had ever walked in the front door, Scottie had made the point that she was only going to stay at the party for two hours, but when those two hours had come and then gone, she had decided to stay a little longer.

  And then a little longer than that.

  Before she noticed, the sun had gone down, allowing the moon to come in and take its place. And still she remained.

  It surprised Scottie that she was having such a good time. A genuinely good time. Rather than being on her guard, feeling tense and thinking she was being watched, she found that, little by little, she somehow had become relaxed.

  This wasn’t a pseudo dynasty that looked down on everyone else the way she’d been led to believe the Cavanaughs were wont to do. The Cavanaughs she had met—and Bryce had gone out of his way to introduce her to practically everyone—were really nice, warm people who went out of their way to make an outsider feel comfortable. They talked to her not because they were being polite but because they wanted to.

  She couldn’t remember ever feeling this at ease at a party before. Bryce had been right. This was good for her. It showed her how life could be with just a little effort. She was more determined than ever to find Ethan and to shut down whatever operation he had gotten himself involved in.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Bryce said, bringing her another piece of the cake later that evening.

  “If I have this, I’m liable to explode. I’ve eaten far too much. Everything tasted wonderful,” she told him, catching Andrew’s eye from across the room. “And as for that penny, Cavanaugh,” she said, looking at her partner, “it’s going to cost you a lot more than that to find out what I’m thinking.”

  Rather than laugh or say something cryptic, Bryce regarded her for a long moment. “Might be worth it.”

  Her eyes met his and she stifled another shiver racing up and down her spine. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “You have no idea what I’m thinking,” Bryce told her quietly. “And to be honest, right now, I’m kind of glad you’re not a mind reader.”

  She cleared her throat, trying very hard to shake off the far more serious mood insisting on coming over her. “Why? Are you having impure thoughts, Cavanaugh?” she asked. It was meant to be a joke to lighten the momentarily more serious mood that seemed to be pulsating between them.

  Bryce completely floored her when he said, “I plead the fifth.”

  She looked at him then, suddenly feeling an onrush of heat envelop her even though she was doing her best to block that very reaction because it wasn’t something she should be feeling about her partner. Her main concern—her only concern—was to find Ethan and pry him out of the clutches of whoever it was that was making him pull off these break-ins. That left no time for having any sort of strong, physical reactions to her partner, much less building on them.

  She couldn’t blame it on anything she’d had to drink because all she’d had the entire duration of the party were a few glasses of lemonade as well as soda. Whatever she was experiencing was all on her.

  She needed to get a grip, Scottie told herself. To stop unconsciously wishing things were different and just deal with what was.

  Most of all, she had to keep her guard up and stop drifting off, wondering what if...? There was no room for that in her life right now.

  “Ready to go?” Bryce asked her.

  Scottie blinked. She suddenly realized she hadn’t noticed that the gathering had long since begun to thin out.

  “I think those two hours you gave me are up,” Bryce added, tongue in cheek.

  She took a breath. Time had just seemed to whiz by. And she had really enjoyed herself. It was nice to have had this little island of time when she was just being herself. Not a detective, not someone who had to be responsible for someone else. Just herself.

  She found herself being grateful to Bryce, fully aware that if she admitted any of this to Bryce, he would be just impossible to live with.

  Instead she just nodded her head and said, “I guess they are.”

  “We can make an official exit,” he told her, “or we can just slip out. Your choice.”

  He was giving her another choice. She’d always preferred slipping out, but it seemed rude this time. His family had all been too nice to her for her to pull a disappearing act.

  “Official,” she told him.

  She was surprised his approving expression pleased her the way it did. “You’re coming along, Detective Scott. You
’re really coming along.”

  By the time they had finally reached the front door, Scottie felt as if she had said goodbye to several generations of Cavanaughs—but not before promising to see each and every one of them “real soon.” More astonishing than that, she found that they meant it.

  And most astonishing of all, so did she.

  Chapter 13

  “So, admit it,” Bryce said to her as they walked back to his car. “It wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be.”

  It seemed to Scottie that her partner was almost going out of his way to be nice to her. He could have easily rubbed her nose in it, maybe even showed her a video or photos that he could have taken on his cell phone to prove she had enjoyed herself. Instead he had phrased his statement in almost neutral terms.

  The man made it really difficult for her to continue to keep him at arm’s length.

  “Well, since you put it that way,” Scottie answered. “No, today was not as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

  Stopping at his car, Bryce watched her, obviously waiting for her to rephrase her statement.

  For thirty seconds a kind of staring contest ensued and then Scottie surrendered. “Okay, it was good. I had a good time.” She raised her chin a little bit as she asked, “Satisfied?”

  He wondered if she knew just how tempting a pose she had struck. It took some effort for him not to just follow through and kiss her.

  “Yes,” he answered, “but I was kind of hoping that you were, too.”

  “They’re nice people,” she admitted, getting into Bryce’s sedan. Then she said something he hadn’t expected. “I’m glad you have them in your life.”

  Rounding the hood, he got in on the driver’s side. “I don’t exactly have them under lock and key,” he pointed out, buckling up. When she looked at him blankly, he added, “I’ll share.”

  Starting up the car, he carefully pulled away from the curb. “Must be rough,” he surmised, “not having any family.”

  Scottie pulled back a little. That was a topic she really didn’t want to talk about. “You get used to it,” she said with finality.

  Bryce was quiet for a moment, reflecting on what she’d just said, then told her, “Personally, I think it would be kind of rough for me. It’s not like I sit around, having long heart-to-hearts with my brothers and sisters, but I have to admit that it’s still a good feeling to know they’re there, in the background somewhere, if I ever need someone in my corner.” He glanced at her almost-rigid profile. “You’re even stronger than I thought.”

  “You thought I was strong?” she questioned incredulously. If asked, she would have said that her partner didn’t think about her at all.

  Bryce laughed at the surprise in her voice. “You come on like a ninja warrior, so, yes, I thought you were strong.” He paused for a moment then decided to push forward. “I also think that you have something on your mind.”

  A wariness crept into her voice. “I already told you, solving the case.”

  “Yeah, I know.” That was what she’d said, but he wasn’t buying it. “But it’s more than that. Something’s eating at you.”

  Scottie made a face. “Not unless you have fleas in your car,” she quipped.

  He was determined to get her to trust him enough to open up. Something was keeping her up at night and he had a feeling it had to do with the serial break-ins, although he still couldn’t put his finger on what.

  “I’m serious, Scottie.” He infused concern into his voice. “Listen, you know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it.”

  She really wished he’d drop this. She wasn’t sure just how much longer she could put him off and the last thing she wanted was for him to know that she suspected her brother was involved in the break-ins.

  “So now you’re a counselor?” she asked.

  Rather than take offense or act like she was mocking him, Bryce took another route.

  “Counselor, sounding board, occasional punching bag,” Bryce added whimsically. “At one time or another, partners have to be all things to each other. The bottom line is,” he told her forcefully, “that if something’s bothering you, you can come to me and we’ll talk it out. We’ll find a solution. Together.”

  “‘If something’s bothering me,’” Scottie repeated. “You mean other than a partner who won’t stop pushing?” she asked.

  “If I hadn’t pushed,” he countered, “you would have never had a good time tonight.”

  Despite the topic she was trying so hard to get him to change, a whimsical smile played on her lips. “Point taken—this time,” she amended.

  * * *

  Bryce gave it one more try as he pulled into her residential development. “No judgment, by the way.”

  Since they’d dropped the topic several minutes ago, his assertion caught her off guard. “What?”

  “Whatever’s bothering you,” he said by way of preface. “I won’t be judgmental when you tell me.”

  “You won’t have to be because there’s nothing to be judgmental about. Or to tell,” she added for good measure. “I’m fine.”

  No, she wasn’t, he thought. If she was fine, she wouldn’t turn up in the office every morning looking like a zombie. A very pretty zombie, but still a zombie. “And you can’t sleep because...?”

  “I can’t sleep,” she answered with a note of finality. Because he didn’t look satisfied, she added for good measure, “Walk through your local pharmacy sometime. Sleeping aids are a big, thriving business. Lots of people can’t sleep,” she told him. “I just happen to be one of them.”

  He didn’t believe her. But he couldn’t exactly torture the answer out of her, either, so, for now, Bryce forced himself to let it go, promising himself to revisit the subject at a later date if she continued to look as if she had spent the night on a bed of nails.

  Opening his door, he got out on his side at the same time that Scottie got out on hers.

  She looked at him, startled. She had assumed he’d just remain in the car and then pull away after she got out. “Where are you going?”

  Gesturing toward her house, he said, “I’m walking you to your door.”

  Her door was only about fifteen feet away. “Did I invite you in?” she asked, trying to remember if perhaps she had during the course of the evening and just forgotten about it.

  He took a few steps in front of her, waiting for Scottie to follow suit. “No, it’s just something the cop in me feels I should do.”

  “In case it slipped your mind, I’m a cop, too.”

  “Yes, you are,” he readily agreed. “And right now,” he continued as she began walking again, “you’re a very sexy-looking cop so I’d feel better if I brought you to your door instead of having you just jump out of my car as I drove by your house.”

  She had stopped processing what he was saying half a sentence ago, her attention snared by one of the words he’d used.

  “You think I’m sexy?” she asked, stunned.

  “Yes. I can make that observation and still be your partner,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Now get your sexy self into the house.”

  He stood to the side as she took out her key and unlocked her door.

  Turning to face him, Scottie surprised herself by asking, “Do you want to come in?”

  He watched moonbeams getting caught in her hair, felt his hold on self-control slipping a little.

  “Yes, I do,” he answered honestly. That same honesty had him saying, “But right now, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” About to turn away, he paused, finding himself stuck on a minor point. “Knowing what you know about break-ins, why don’t you have a security system?” he asked.

  The question seemed almost innocuous, considering what she was bracing herself for. “There’s no po
int to having one. If someone is really determined to get in, they’ll find a way to override the system.”

  Did she believe that was always possible? Or was she more familiar with the problem than he’d thought? “Really?”

  Scottie nodded.

  It gave him something to think about—other than dwelling on the fact that he was an idiot for walking away after she had actually invited him in. But that route was fraught with complications and, right now, she didn’t look like a woman who needed any more.

  Truthfully, neither did he.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Bryce told her as he made his way back to his car.

  “Easy for you to say,” Scottie murmured under her breath as she watched her partner walk away.

  There were a number of things to keep her up, not the least of which was that she was getting progressively more attracted to her partner—and she shouldn’t be.

  * * *

  It seemed to Scottie that she had finally, finally managed to drift off to sleep after restlessly tossing and turning for the first three hours. Breaking into her dreamless sleep was the sound of someone ringing her doorbell.

  At first she thought the sound was just part of her dream. But then her brain kicked in, alerting her that what she was hearing wasn’t part of a dream—and it wasn’t a drill. This was the real thing.

  Someone was on her doorstep.

  The next moment Scottie was completely wide awake, thinking that maybe Ethan was on the other side of her door, needing to talk to her.

  She was up and out of her bedroom, flying down the stairs in a matter of seconds.

  Only her intense police training kept her from throwing open the front door the second she reached it. Instead, Scottie forced herself to look through the peephole.

  Her heart stopped racing then.

  It wasn’t her brother.

  Unlocking the door, she opened it, but only partially. “Forget something?” she asked Bryce.

  “Yes, you.”

  For the barest of seconds, his eyes swept over her, appreciatively admiring what he was looking at. Scottie, barefoot with her hair tousled, had on an oversize football jersey and, from all indication, nothing else underneath. He tamped down his imagination before it could take off on him.