Believing Again: Book 5 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance)

by Peggy Bird

  “Shabbat shalom, Danny. I’m Miriam Abrams. It’s nice to finally meet you. Jacob has said such wonderful things about you.”

  Danny glanced at Jake who shrugged his shoulders and half-smiled. “Shabbat shalom, Mrs. Abrams. Thank you for inviting me tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a Shabbat dinner.”

  “It’s Miriam. And, yes, my son told us you observed Shabbat growing up. Please feel free to join us any Friday you’d like, with or without Jacob. You’re always welcome in our home.”

  Wouldn’t that be awkward, Danny thought, dinner with his family without him. As she handed over the bottle of wine and the flowers, she saw that Jake’s half-smile was now a huge see-what-I-mean-about-my-mother grin.

  They followed her from the entryway down a long hall with dozens of family photos, some of them quite old looking, on the walls. Danny stopped to look at one she was sure was Jake as a gawky adolescent but he refused to let her linger too long, herding her into the living room. It was a room furnished more for utility than style with a mix of what seemed to be antiques, maybe family pieces, and comfortable couches and chairs arranged to take advantage of the spectacular view of the city lights the large front window showcased. Danny immediately liked the person who had opted to let the city be the star of the room — the woman in front of her, she was sure.

  “I’ll go get Harold and have him bring drinks. What would you like, Danny? Wine? A cocktail? Jacob usually has a martini.”

  “A glass of red wine would be fine, thanks,” Danny answered.

  When Miriam Abrams had disappeared into the back of the house, Danny said, “What’s all the smirking for, Doctor Abrams?”

  “I love watching my mother doing her charming best to corral you into another evening here. You might as well get used to the idea that you’ll be back for another Shabbat. She’s a freight train when she’s trying to get her way. Or maybe more like a force of nature. Don’t try to fight her. You won’t win. I’ve been unsuccessful all my life.”

  “At what, Jacob?” Miriam Abrams had returned, a man who was an older version of Jake in tow. He carried a silver tray with four drinks on it.

  “Resisting you when you have your mind made up about something, Mom.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, it’s easier to give in.” She was laughing when she said it but Danny was quite sure she meant every word.

  Danny smiled at Jake’s dad. “Hi, Doctor Abrams. You probably don’t remember me but we met when you were putting my partner Sam Richardson back together again a few years ago.”

  “Shot in the left shoulder. Three women — three very attractive women — sitting around in the waiting room to hear how he’d done in surgery. Oh, I remembered. But I didn’t recall your name until Jake reminded me.”

  “Yeah, Sam’s fan club was there. Me, Margo Keyes from the DA’s office, and Amanda St. Claire. Amanda and Sam got married not too long after you patched him up.”

  “If he was well enough to get married and is still your partner, I must have done an okay job.”

  “You did a great job. His shoulder aches sometimes when he’s tired or been sitting behind a desk too long but mostly you’d never know he’d been injured.”

  “Tell him I said hello, will you?”

  “I will. And he sent his regards to you.”

  A half hour later, when the drinks were finished, Miriam Abrams rose. “How about we light the candles and say the blessing? Danny, will you join me?” she asked. Miriam led the other three to the dining room table where a loaf of challah, a bottle of wine, and two candles set in ornate candlesticks were waiting. The table was set with heavy-looking silver flatware, delicate china plates, and crystal wine and water glasses reminding Danny of dinners at her grandparents’ home when she was a child.

  The same smirk was on Jake’s face as Danny gave into the inevitable and joined his mother in lighting the candles. Maybe she was spurred by the sight of the table, or maybe because it was imbedded from childhood but from someplace deep in her memory, she pulled out the words of the blessing and, to her own amazement, prayed in unison with Miriam as Jake’s mother waved her hands over the candle flames, welcoming in the Sabbath.

  Baruhk atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha’olam

  Asher kidishanu b’mitz’votav v’tzivanu

  L’had’lik near shel Shabbat. Amein

  When Danny looked up, she saw the smirk was gone from Jake’s face. The expression that replaced it was one of — well, the word that came to mind was “love.”

  Directed to a place at the table next to Jake, she sat down and he circled her shoulders with his arm. She leaned into the embrace and he gently kissed her forehead. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She was sure the candlelight was reflecting off the tears welled up in her eyes as brightly as it was reflecting off the water in his.

  The ritual continued through the wine, hand washing, and breaking of bread. When it was completed, dinner was served — Caesar salad, roast chicken with a dried cherry sauce, roasted potatoes, and green beans with mushrooms. It was delicious.

  Almost as good as the conversation around the table. At first Danny didn’t participate much as she listened to the three Abramses discuss local politics. Eventually, however, she had to weigh in when they started talking about some of the challenges facing the city, including the problems the Police Bureau had with funding programs to deal with the mentally ill, some of whom often had more contact with law enforcement than with medical care. It was a situation everyone in the room agreed was untenable.

  She’d forgotten how enjoyable a family dinner could be. The evening reminded her of the dinner table conversations her family had when two college professors and two teenagers, Danny and her brother, dissected current events, pop culture, serious literature, and anything else they wanted to talk about. Just like the Abrams family obviously did.

  It was close to nine by the time they cleared the table. Danny insisted she help load the dishwasher after they had chased Jake and his father out with cups of coffee. She and Jake’s mother worked in companionable silence for a bit, then Miriam said, “I don’t want to embarrass you but I have to tell you how happy my son has been since he’s been seeing you, Danny.”

  “Oh. Really?” Danny was uncomfortably aware of the inadequacy of her reply.

  Miriam continued to load dinner plates into the dishwasher. “Jacob went to Iraq one man and came home another. Since he’s been seeing you, he’s more like the one who went there. And that’s a good thing.”

  “I don’t really think I can take credit for … ”

  “I’m not trying to put pressure on you. I know how relationships go.” She sighed as she turned to face Danny. “But I appreciate having my son back, even if it’s only for a short time. I’ve missed him.”

  Before Danny could think of a response, much less give it, Jake came into the kitchen with two empty coffee cups.

  “I’m here to free the enslaved. Time to get you out of here, Danny, before she has you mopping floors.”

  “So, now you think you’re Moses do you, Jacob, freeing your people?”

  “No, Mom, just a man trying to save his date from having to do any more manual labor.” He leaned down and kissed the top of his mother’s head.

  She beamed up at him. “All right, then, if you must. Take this beautiful woman home. But make sure you bring her back. Soon.”

  • • •

  The drive to Jake’s house, where they were spending the weekend, was quiet, both of them lost in thought. At least Danny assumed Jake was as lost as she was. The evening had brought back things she’d deliberately pushed out of her consciousness. Like how comfortable it was to be included in a family. Like how moving it was to be part of a tradition as old as time. She loved her own home and she was always happy when she had dinner at Sam and Amanda’s house. But tonight had been something special.

  Maybe it was because she felt more like Danita Rebecca tonight, the girl who came from a close and happy fam
ily, the one the woman Danny had distanced herself from for some time. Shabbat with the Abrams felt good. She liked Jake’s parents, liked the easy relationship they had with each other and with their son, the love she could feel around that table. The only thing was, it was forcing her to face the reality that she was beginning to feel the same thing for Jake he said he felt for her, even though she swore she never would, never could.

  How could she be in love with Jake and be who she wanted to be? She was Detective Danny Hartmann, strong and independent, the kick-ass woman even Jake acknowledged she was. Being partners with Sam was one thing. He wanted her to have his back in a tough situation. Being partners with someone who might want something else, like putting him first or being there every night for dinner, was different. Different and impossible. Wasn’t it?

  As soon as they got into the house, Jake took her in his arms. “Thank you for going with me tonight. It was … magic.” He gave her a soft kiss.

  “I should be the one saying ‘thank you.’ It was the best evening I’ve had in I don’t know how long.”

  “Really?” He looked down at her with a frown. “I thought we’ve had some pretty spectacular evenings in the past couple months.”

  “You know what I mean.” She nestled her head into his shoulder. “I haven’t felt part of a family like that in years. I’d forgotten how good it feels. Your parents are great.”

  “Annoying and intrusive at times, but, on the whole, more than passable, I agree.” He lifted her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes. “They like you. Which is no surprise. They knew how much I cared for you and they were prepared to like you because of that. But you … you blew them away. Like you blew me away from the very first time I met you. Still blow me away.” He paused for a few heartbeats. “Danny, I’m not beginning to fall for you — I love you. Flat out love you.”

  She started to respond but he put his fingers across her lips.

  “Hush. Let me finish. It comes with no strings. No requirements. You don’t want to tell me you love me? Fine. I know how you feel. I can see it on your face and feel it when you kiss me.”

  She tried again but he shook his head and went on, “You don’t do relationships? That’s fine, too. We won’t have a relationship.”

  This time he let her talk. “What do you call what we have, then, Jake?”

  “Does it matter? It’s just us. We can be just us. I don’t give a damn what you call it. We’re good together. You know it. I know it. Hell, I bet if we asked Sam he’d say we’re good together. My parents would agree — I heard what my mother said in the kitchen.” He didn’t look the least bit guilty for eavesdropping.

  No, he looked intense and passionate and loving. As he stroked his finger down the side of her face she knew she had one foot on solid ground and the other on a slippery slope. She tried to get back in control, at least of her own feelings. She started, “I know how good we are together and I know how you feel about me. I even think I know how I feel about you. I don’t know if I should … if I can … ” There was a long pause while she tried to get her head wrapped around the idea of saying the words she’d never said to any man. She tried. “Jake, I … ” The rest of the words didn’t want to come out.

  He held her closer. “I know, baby, I know.”

  “I don’t know if you do.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  “I’ve worked so damn hard to get where I am, given up so much. Like I said, being a police detective isn’t my job — it’s who I am. Those guys I work with are not just my colleagues, they’re my family, my friends. My whole world. I can’t imagine walking away from it, taking a chance on a relationship that may not work out because I can’t be who you want me to be.”

  “I want you to be the woman I see in front of me. The one I love. I’m not asking you to walk away from your work, to give up your life. Just to let me be part of it.”

  She still didn’t know what to say, except, “I don’t deserve you, Jake.”

  “I know. You deserve someone a whole hell of a lot better looking, with an intact body and a mind that hasn’t been fucked up with a tour in a war zone. But you got me. And if you think I’m gonna let you go, even though I know you deserve better, you haven’t been paying attention to who I am.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “If it wasn’t, it should have been. You’re a beautiful, accomplished woman who deserves some guy who’s, I don’t know, a super hero, maybe, or some star athlete.”

  Danny almost choked laughing. “Yeah, because I look like the kind of woman who falls for comic book characters. And if you think being arm candy for a rich, spoiled athlete is my style, you’re the one not paying attention.”

  He took her chin again and lightly pressed his mouth against hers. “Seriously, all I’m asking is that you give us a chance. Because now that I’ve got you here, I’m not about to let you go.”

  “You have me. What’re you going to do with me?”

  “I’m going to take you to bed and make love to every inch of you. Slowly and sweetly and for a long, long time.”

  She could feel the slow curl of hot, thick desire blossom in her body at his words. “Oh, I think I’ll like that.”

  • • •

  Jake’s parents had always said they liked the few women he’d brought home to meet them. But until Danny, they’d never fallen for anyone like they had tonight. Hell, if he hadn’t been in love with her before now he would have fallen hard himself.

  He’d seen the expression on his mother’s face when Danny had prayed the blessing with her, had watched his father listen closely to her frustration at what her colleagues faced every day dealing with people with mental illness with few resources other than handcuffs, pepper spray, and jail. He could tell they loved her intensity and her commitment, admired her passion for her job and for getting it right. He thought they might love her almost as much as he did.

  Somehow he had to find a way to convince her that being in love wasn’t anything to be afraid of. That she wouldn’t lose who she was in a relationship with him. That all he wanted to do was love her and it would be good.

  But that was long term and right now, long term could wait. Tonight he simply wanted to make love to her.

  He turned the sound system on to his favorite Bach cello music. She grinned over at him as he clicked on the bedside lamp. “What, no candles tonight?”

  “You want candles? I can get … ”

  “Jake, I was teasing.” She hooked her finger into the belt loop on his pants, pulled him to her, and began to unbutton his shirt.

  “Not tonight. It’s all about you tonight.” He took her hands and kissed the back of them, then let them drop.

  “You say that every time. When is it ever for you?”

  “It’s always for me, baby. Touching you, tasting you, watching you come. That’s always all for me.” He was headed for taking off her knit top but then she bit her lower lip and licked the spot where her teeth had made a small indentation, on purpose, he was sure. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t resist, didn’t want to wait. He claimed her mouth for what he intended to be a short little kiss before he went back to undressing her. But once his mouth touched hers, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t rein in the need to have her that had been building in him all evening.

  Instead of the soft, tender kisses he’d thought they’d spend time exchanging, what he was giving her now was hot, hard, and unforgiving. In seconds he knew that her lips weren’t enough. He needed to feel her tongue, feel the soft slide of it against his. Feel her body against his, every soft inch of her against every hard inch of him. He gripped the curve of her hips and ground himself against her.

  She didn’t object. Instead, she twined her arms around his neck and, moaning softly, her body arched against him, she whispered, “I want you. Now.”

  There was no leisurely, sexy undressing. He stripped off her top, threw it to the floor, and added her bra, pants, and panties in seconds.
After he led her to the bed and she crawled in, his clothes were in the pile even faster. He didn’t think he’d ever shed his clothes that fast.

  She stretched out her arms to him and he lay down beside her. At the same time he took one breast in his mouth, she threw her leg over his hip. Suckling her nipple, pulling at it with his mouth, grazing his teeth over it, he heard her groan deep in her throat, felt her hips rock against his.

  Moving to the other breast, he gave it the same attention, drawing back only once to see her face, to watch as she moaned, her eyes fluttering, as she almost came to climax. But he stopped before she got there.

  “Please, Jake,” she pleaded as he released her breast.

  “Soon, baby. Soon,” he murmured and began to kiss his way to the delta of now-damp curls at the apex of her thighs. When he got there, she spread her legs to give him access and, making love to her with his mouth, he finished giving her what she wanted, what he had started with her breasts. He circled her clitoris with his tongue and gently scraped his teeth across her most sensitive place, until he could feel her bucking her hips hard against him. Then he licked and sucked until she came apart against him, crying out his name.

  Moving back up her body, he settled between her thighs, his now-rock-hard penis up against her sex.

  But suddenly he remembered — “Shit. Condom.” He rolled over to open the drawer and fumbled around until he found one. He handed it to her and together they ripped the packet open, she unrolled the condom over him and pulled him back between her legs.

  In one powerful thrust he was inside her. She was ready for him, wanting him there as much as he wanted to be there. Where he would stay forever if he could. She moved under him in perfect rhythm with him until, finally, he felt her quiver, felt her begin to clench around him and then felt her explode again. Kissing her, plunging his tongue into her mouth with the same power as he thrust his penis into her, he poured himself into her and found his own release.