Purrfect Justice

by Ashley Ladd

Sher paused, hand on hip. “How do you stay so thin when you bake cookies nightly?”

  “Easy. I rarely eat them and if I do, just one. I love to bake and I love the scent of baking cookies.” She laughed at the memory of Cole enjoying her cookies. “And the police officers love to eat.”

  “I hope it’s true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach then.” Sher opened the door. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “I hope so, too,” Haley said. Cole’s face flashed in her mind and she hugged herself. She shivered all over at the memory of being in his arms, of caressing, licking, and tasting his luscious cock. Maybe she could bake something special that would light his fire for her—not for the sensually erotic Catwoman.

  Chapter Four

  Excitement brimmed on Cindy’s face as she held out a present tied with a red, white and blue bow. “Tah-dah! Hurry and open it. I can’t stand the suspense.”

  Haley had to laugh at the other woman. “You already know what’s in here. Why’re you in suspense?”

  “I can’t wait to see your face when you see it.” Cindy clapped her hands and jumped up and down, her curls bouncing around her waist.

  “Let me guess—you were a cheerleader, weren’t you?” Haley asked wryly, envisioning her friend on a football field at halftime in twirling miniskirts.

  “You must be psychic. I haven’t told anyone here.” Cindy’s eyes glowed happily with memories as she nibbled on one of Haley’s peanut butter cookies.

  “It’s not Christmas, and it’s not my birthday.” Haley turned over the mystery package in her hands, examining it. “So, what’s the occasion? You got promoted? Brad popped the big question?”

  Cindy perched on her desk and grimaced at the mention of an engagement. “You’ll see when you open it. Hurry up before I open it for you.”

  When Cindy plucked at the ribbon, Haley slapped away her hand. “Nah-uh, I’ll open it.” She pulled at the bow and a large yellow T-shirt with the black number three fell out. Upon closer examination, she saw “Bumble Bees” lettered over the number.

  Bumble Bees? Amused, she nearly chortled out loud and covered her mouth with her hand. “This is, uh, very nice, Cin. What’s it for?”

  “You’re going to play on our softball team. You can play, can’t you?” Hope flickered in Cindy’s eyes.

  “Well, I’ve played a few times. I’m not very good.” Haley looked at the tag and read aloud, “Extra-large?” Yikes! She would swim in it. She glanced down at herself with disgust. Did she really look so gargantuan?

  Miss Sportswoman stopped munching the cookie and blushed. “If it’s too small, I think we have some double extra-larges.”

  Flabbergasted and insulted to the max, Haley’s jaw wanted to drop open, but she clamped it tight. So, she wasn’t a born athlete and she wasn’t an ex-rah-rah girl, but that didn’t make her a blundering hippo, either. Trying not to be hurt by the unintended insult, she mumbled, “No, this’ll be all right.” A uniform shirt should have plenty of room for moving about and breathing. She just hoped it wasn’t so large she’d trip over it and break her neck. Now that would grab Cole’s attention, but not in the way she wanted.

  Cindy brightened and jumped to her feet. “Good! Meet us at Mills Pond no later than 6:30 tonight.” Without waiting to hear if Haley could fit the game into her schedule, she sashayed back to her desk. “See you then!” she tossed over her shoulder.

  Haley groaned and wiggled her fingers to Miss Rah-Rah’s back. “Ciao.” She gulped. Crazy! She’d disgrace herself and help the opposing team to win. Flying projectiles hurtling toward her at eighty-plus miles per hour made her cringe and want to hit the deck. She tended to close her eyes and duck. Not a prize-winning recipe for sure.

  All day long, she dreaded the game and tried to get her nerve up to bow out. Clouds grew heavy and dark outside, and she prayed for rain. At this point, she’d even welcome a hurricane. “Rain, rain, rain,” she chanted in her head, about ready to do a rain dance or hire someone to salt the clouds with dry ice, but she didn’t know how to do a rain dance and her bank account was woefully pathetic.

  When D-Hour rolled around, she strolled onto the field, calling herself a fool. She’d stopped at the store to purchase shorts, cleats, and a glove. While there, she’d also picked up a band to securely hold on her glasses, so they wouldn’t fall off when she ran.

  “She made it!” Cindy yelled and ran to greet her. Her T-shirt gloved her torso, delineating her breasts and tiny waist. Her hair bobbed up and down behind her in a long ponytail. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.”

  “I’m here.” She felt like a rhinoceros in her extra-large shirt next to her sexy friend. With a swallowed grimace, she noted the other women’s shirts all fit them much better than hers.

  Cindy led her to the field and turned with her bouncy exuberance. “Can you play outfield?”

  Haley glanced at the ominous cloud cover. Any time now, she coaxed silently. “Fine,” she lied, terrified. If a high fly ball came at her, she’d panic. She’d never liked flying projectiles, but since her sight had been damaged, she really couldn’t take them now. Whether it was the fuzziness or earned paranoia that she needed to overcome, she wasn’t sure.

  “You know everyone here, I think, except possibly for the new cop, Erika.” Cindy pulled Haley into the group and thrust her at Erika.

  For the first time, Haley noticed Cole, his softball cap pulled low on his forehead, his thigh brushing Erika’s silky exposed leg. Jealousy knifed through Haley, but she couldn’t unglue her gaze from them.

  Cole openly admired the beautiful brunette as he cracked gum and tossed a softball into his glove, over and over. She hadn’t thought he could look any sexier than he did in his police blues, but he still managed to steal her breath.

  The umpire called, “Play ball!” as he dusted home plate with a squat, wooden-handled brush. His sky-blue shirt came untucked from his dark blue shorts, and he casually tucked it back in.

  “We’re at bat first.” Cindy sat between Brad and Cole, then scooted over to make room for Haley next to Cole and patted the bench.

  Haley blinked, and then tried to get a grip on herself. She had no choice but to sit next to Cole unless she wanted to look gauche.

  Cole sniffed, turning his head and scrunching his nose. “What’s that smell?”

  Grilling hot dogs and burgers drifted on the breeze. Cindy’s unique fragrance, a mixture of exotic flowers and amber, hung cloyingly in the air.

  Cindy giggled. “That’s Haley’s hair.”

  The perm! Haley had gotten used to the pungent aroma and forgotten all about it. Her hand crept up to her new curls. Mortified, she wanted to crawl under the bench and sneak away. “It must be my new permanent.”

  Cole glanced over her hair and nodded, his expression blank. Then he leaned over Haley to wink at Erika.

  Haley felt dashed. First she was fat, now she stunk. Next she’d trip over her feet on the field like a total dork.

  “Rain! Please rain!” she begged silently, folding her hands in her lap, but the unmerciful clouds ignored her.

  Haley batted fourth in the lineup, with one out and one runner on base. She choked up on a lightweight metal bat and took a couple of practice swings. She buoyed her courage and forbade herself from squeezing her eyes shut when the pitch came. Psyched to a fever pitch, she swung way over her head at a wild pitch.

  “Strike one!” The umpire shouted behind her.

  Cole warmed up on the side, swinging his bat. He swore under his breath when she golfed at the next pitch. “Time out!” he yelled, and strode to her purposefully, his cleats spewing dust behind him.

  Unable to formulate words, she stared, waiting for him to kick her out of the game. Her lungs were so stiff, she couldn’t inhale.

  He invaded her space, his face a mere two inches from her own.

  God, but she’d had fantasies of such a moment, only without the deadly scowl and booing audience. Real life sucked.

 
“Take a deep breath, and wait for the ball to come to you. Don’t reach.”

  Her eyes so wide they ached, she nodded. Her curls bounced, tickling her cheek. They felt alien.

  He laid a warm, vibrant hand on her shoulder and smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Relax. It’s just a game. We won’t tar and feather you if you strike out.” He glanced Brad’s way. “At least I won’t, and I won’t let the psycho there bully you.”

  Maybe he liked her a bit after all.

  A tremulous smile returned to her lips, and she inhaled, the knot in her stomach loosening. “Okay.”

  He squeezed her shoulder, shooting wildfire through her veins. “Go get ‘em, slugger.” He backed out of the way.

  She repositioned her feet, choked up on the bat, and nodded to the pitcher.

  He threw three pitches, and then she hit a line drive down the third baseline, shocking herself.

  “Run, run, run!” Cindy jumped up and down, rattling the chain link fence, practically climbing it.

  “Go!” Cole shouted, his hands cupping his mouth.

  The first baseman held her glove in front of her body, her expression rapt. A long, tightly permed, honey-brown ponytail stuck through the back of her cap.

  The second base umpire ran toward first base from centerfield, blowing a bubble and popping it as she hustled.

  Haley pushed herself forward, the cleats awkward and heavy beneath her. Her tent-sized shirt flapped around her. She ran across first base as the baseman caught the ball. Too much momentum propelled her, so that she couldn’t stop until after she overran the base several steps.

  The ump yelled, “Safe!” behind her as her team cheered, and the first baseman cursed and threw her glove on the ground at her feet. Catcalls echoed from the dugout.

  Cole sauntered up to the plate, his steps full of confidence, his eyes full of challenge. His biceps flexed beneath his shirt as he took a few powerful practice swings.

  Mesmerized, Haley gulped in a huge lungful of muggy air. The muscles between her legs clenched as she watched him covertly from beneath her veiled lashes. She forced herself to crouch, and ready herself to run, one foot pointed at second base. She pulled her cap down over her head more securely, and adjusted her glasses.

  Cole slugged the ball high over the right fielder’s head and ran for first, dust spewing behind him. “Run!” he shouted at Haley as he closed in on her fast.

  Haley ran as hard as she could, rounding second base and then third, aware Cole pounded at her heels.

  Lightning split the sky and a thunderous boom followed almost immediately. The heavens opened up and rain poured down on her head.

  Haley slid into home and Cole landed atop her, his arms pinning her beneath him. His heart beat against hers.

  Her heart skipped several beats and she wished he were atop her for far better, more exciting reasons than softball. But she’d take what she could get. If softball landed him atop her, she’d play on the team until she was too old to hobble to the plate.

  “Get off the field!” the home plate ump ordered, as another lightning bolt struck not fifty feet away.

  Blinded by the flash of light, Haley gasped.

  Strong arms lifted her, and then an iron grip tugged her hand so hard it almost dislocated her shoulder. “Run,” Cole shouted, “unless you want to get fried!”

  Muddy and out of breath, she stumbled behind him, clutching his hand, as he ran to the clubhouse. Wind howled. Rain slashed at her face. Another lightning bolt struck the generator on the far side of the field, and sparks flew wildly. The box exploded and the field lights flickered, drowning them in blackness.

  Haley couldn’t see, not even dim shapes. Trembling, she snuggled against Cole’s delightfully warm chest.

  His arms crept around her, and he gathered her close. “We’re safe now.”

  His breath tickled her neck, and she could smell his spearmint gum.

  “I thought for sure that last lightning bolt had our name on it.”

  “Me, too.” She blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She rubbed them underneath her glasses, careful not to take the glasses completely off. “I’m still seeing spots.”

  “Your heart’s still racing, too.” He grinned down at her, his features in shadow.

  “Oh…” She wasn’t about to tell him it was his nearness and not the lightning that made her heart pound so hard. “Thanks for the advice and for saving me.” She thanked God for the darkness so Cole couldn’t look too closely. She didn’t want him to recognize her as his comic-book heroine.

  He whipped off his cap and bowed. “My pleasure. Everyone needs rescuing at one time or another.”

  So, now, he only owed her one, although she wasn’t about to tell him her secret. Let him think she was beholden to him. Besides, she wanted him to like her for her real self. Her blonde, everyday self who wore big clunky glasses.

  * * * * *

  Confusion filled Cole and he fiddled with the papers on his desk, not really seeing them. Much as his white knight in black thrilled him, much as she fascinated him, he liked the feeling of being the rescuer, too. He had enjoyed rescuing Haley. He had liked her neediness and how soft she had felt in his arms. He liked how macho she made him feel.

  He couldn’t get her off his mind. The trouble was, he couldn’t get his brunette savior off his mind, either. Two women fought for his heart.

  Hopeless. He was doomed. That’s all there was to it. He wasn’t meant to settle down with just one woman. Why not date both women? That’s if he ever discovered his Catwoman’s secret identity.

  A shadow fell across his desk and he looked up. Haley held a cake before her and slid it onto his desk. “Thank you again.” She pivoted on her heel and started to leave.

  “Wait!” Cole’s heart jumped in his chest and he leaped to his feet, rounded his desk and blocked her escape. He longed to keep her with him for at least a few minutes. “You can’t just drop off a cake and walk away. Stay and share a piece.”

  Crimson filled the apple of her cheeks and her smile lit his heart. She smelled wonderful, and he searched his memory for the familiar scent. Vanilla, like warm, baking Christmas cookies.

  “I’m watching my weight,” she said with a shy but alluring smile.

  “One little sliver can’t hurt much.” He captured her tiny hand in his, and backed up toward his desk, pulling her with him. He got a better look at her face than he had before and he sucked in his breath. She was really quite exquisite. Fine, delicate bone structure. A creamy complexion in a heart-shaped face, and a dimpled chin framed by golden curls. He wondered how he had missed her before. It must have been the archaic, unattractive hairstyle she had insisted on wearing that had made her seem plain, even dowdy.

  “Really, I shouldn’t.” But she let herself be led slowly and inexorably to his desk.

  “Is there something else I can interest you in?” Coffee, tea, or me, he wanted to ask. Instead, he recalled the previous evening and asked, “How about some batting lessons? Tradewinds Park has batting cages. How about tonight?” He paused for effect, lowering his voice. “We could stop for dinner first.”

  “That’d be fun.” She looked down at her linen suit and high heels. “I’ll have to go home and change first.”

  “I’ll pick you up at your place at 6:30. E-mail the address and directions to me.” Reluctantly, he relinquished her hand as she pulled away, aware that they were garnering attention from their coworkers, not sure he gave a damn.

  She just smiled a Mona Lisa smile that about drove him out of his mind. His glance fell to her shapely legs as she strolled back to her workstation and surprise flickered through him that someone of her weight could have such fantastic gams. Come to think of it, her face was extremely slim for someone of her weight. This one wasn’t completely without mystery herself.

  “I thought you liked the other one,” Brad said sotto voce behind him. “Does this mean the hunt’s off for your mystery woman?”

  Cole swallowed
his annoyance and turned to stare at his nosy friend. “I’m a free man. I can be interested in two women at once. Haven’t you ever watched The Bachelor?” He glanced at Crowe’s office. “Yeah, I’d still like to find my costumed crusader. Besides, we’ve been ordered to find her, so we couldn’t give up regardless.”

  He cut a piece of cake and stuffed it in his mouth. The sugary concoction melted on his tongue, sending him into rapture. “You’ve got to try this.” He served a slice to Brad.

  Cindy hummed under her breath as she delivered mail throughout the department. “Special delivery from forensics for you, Lieutenant Fischer.” She eyed the cake with interest and sidled up to Cole, her flowered scent overpowering. Her makeup caked too heavily on her face. “Your girlfriend bake you the goodies?”

  “Have a piece,” Cole offered, sliding a napkin to her. “Help yourself.” He sidestepped her question, opening the envelope she’d dropped in his lap, eager to see the fingerprint report. Disappointment washed over him when the report he’d been pinning his hopes on was inconclusive. A damn smudged fingerprint. Just his lousy luck.

  “Is there anything else for me?” He looked around her to the mail cart she wheeled throughout the office hoping for a miracle.

  “Expecting a love letter or something?” Cindy batted her lashes coquettishly and sank her perfect teeth into the cake.

  “Or something,” Cole mumbled. He drummed his fingers on his desk, anxious to find out his mystery woman’s identity. There had to be a way to smoke her out. How did she always know when he was in trouble? Was she psychic? Did the dispatcher tell her? Maybe she listened to the police radio. If she were a cop, she’d be tuned in to the radio all the time.

  But if she were a cop, she would have been in uniform the second time she saved his neck. There had been no police Halloween party that night. At least, not one he’d been invited to. Maybe she’d been on her way home from a private party? So, how had she heard that he needed help? She’d been on a civilian motorcycle.

  The more he tried to figure out the mystery, the more questions he had, and still no answers.