by Erika Wilde
Dean watched a shudder course through her and knew they’d just barely scratched the surface of all the pain and grief she’d kept locked away for too long. Standing, he closed the physical distance separating them, but kept his hands to himself. “What happened, Jo?” He needed to know everything.
She swallowed hard and met his gaze, her own glazed with a wealth of guilt. “The two of us were on patrol, and we received a call to investigate a suspicious man who was hiding out in an abandoned house,” she said, her voice hoarse. “We went in and found the man in question, and he had a five-year-old boy with him. He had the boy’s mouth taped shut and his hands tied behind his back, and it was obvious that he’d been kidnapped. Brian and I drew our revolvers and blocked the perp’s exit from different doorways, but the other man had a gun, too. I told him to drop his weapon, and all he did was panic and thrust the kid away from him.
“We tried reasoning with the man, but he was so skittish and refused to cooperate. For the most part he kept his aim trained on me while we tried to talk him into giving up.” She touched a hand to her chest and paused for a moment before continuing. “The adrenaline that flowed through my body was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My heart was pumping hard in my chest and my head was swimming with a thousand thoughts, but I managed to keep my gun steady. Then backup units arrived and he completely freaked out and threatened to shoot the little boy who was cowering and whimpering on the floor. And while I kept talking to the man to try to calm him, Brian eased his way closer to the kid, and that’s when the perp lost it, redirected his aim, and shot Brian.”
She visibly shuddered, as if reliving the awful moment. “Oh, God, Dean…” She looked at him, her tear-filled eyes reflecting deep pools of agony. “The second the goddamn perp shifted his gun to Brian, I should have fired my weapon without hesitation to stop him. I knew that, my mind screamed at me to pull the trigger, but everything happened so fast and all I could do was watch in horror as Brian took a bullet and crumpled to the ground because I couldn’t fire my weapon.”
She blinked, and a lone tear trickled down one cheek. Very gently, he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb, offering a small measure of comfort. Sensing she wasn’t done, he remained quiet.
“The window behind the perp was busted out, and backup was there to watch what happened to Brian and they did what I couldn’t do. They shot the guy and killed him before he could turn his weapon back on me.” She swiped at another stray tear before he could do the deed himself—maintaining that in-control facade he knew to be a ruse. “All I can remember is dropping my gun and scrambling over to Brian. He’d been wearing a bullet-proof vest, but the bullet hit him in the neck and severed an artery and he was bleeding all over the place. I tried to put pressure on the wound and begged him not to die, but he drew his last breath in my arms.” Her voice faded away on a note of despair.
You can’t die. You can’t. I won’t let you. Dean’s gut clenched as those words came back to haunt him—a hysterical plea straight out of the nightmare that had plagued Jo their first night together. Now her actions that evening made sense, and knowing the source of her pain, he pulled her into his embrace to console her.
Her body was tense and stiff, her arms still crossed protectively over her chest. Reluctantly, she accepted his comfort, seemingly still struggling with the effort to remain tough and strong when at the moment she was as vulnerable and fragile as glass. His heart squeezed tight, and he wished he had the ability to make all those ugly, disturbing memories disappear.
But he didn’t have that power, and so instead he opted for soothing words and gentle caressing sweeps of his hands down her unyielding back. “Jo…you couldn’t have known that the guy was going to shoot Brian,” he tried reasoning.
She lifted her head to meet his gaze, her expression filled with blame and self-reproach. “The moment that perp took his gun off of me to train it on Brian and threatened his life I should have pulled the trigger, no questions asked.” She shook her head, her jaw clenching in bitterness. “I wasn’t thinking straight, and not covering my partner went against everything I learned in training. Dammit, I couldn’t follow through with pulling the trigger, and I proved to everyone from my brothers on down to my colleagues that when it came to making the kind of life or death decisions some cops face during their careers, I couldn’t handle the job.”
He resisted the urge to shake her, to make her realize that she couldn’t wallow in blame and guilt forever. That she couldn’t remain chained to the past or she’d never be able to embrace a full and emotionally satisfying future. “You made a mistake, Jo,” he argued lightly. “It happens to the strongest of people sometimes.”
She wriggled out of his arms and pushed him away, her mouth pinched with a frown. “That mistake cost a man his life, Dean,” she said, angry now—at herself, possibly at him, and even fate for delivering such a devastating blow. “He was as close to a best friend as I’ve ever had. After the accident, I had no choice but to resign from the police force, for my sake and everyone else I worked with, all of whom didn’t want a skittish partner. And I don’t want to be responsible for another person like that ever again,” she added in a raspy whisper.
Her emotional resistance was the crux of everything that led to them, he knew. She was afraid of making another mistake. Of letting anyone too close, caring too much, of trusting instincts she believed were no longer accurate or reliable. Afraid of experiencing more failure, more loss, more pain.
Unfortunately, life didn’t come with any guarantees against heartache and misery.
“Does that include me?” His tone was soft, but his question was frank and ruthless, forcing her to face what she’d been avoiding for the past two days—them.
Her chin lifted a fraction and her gaze narrowed on him. “What, exactly, are you asking?”
He pushed his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, trying to keep calm when his insides were twisting into a huge knot of turmoil. But he’d come this far with her and he wasn’t about to leave without laying all his cards on the table, no matter what it might end up costing him personally.
“Are you allowing the incident with Brian to keep you from letting yourself trust in what’s between us?” he asked. “What can be between us?”
She bristled defensively. “What’s between you and me has nothing to do with Brian or my past. We had a fling. An affair. Neither one of us made any promises to the other.”
Despite the desperation he heard in her voice, anger flared through him—that she’d reduced their relationship to something so superficial. “We might not have made any verbal promises,” he agreed tightly, “but there was a hell of a lot more between us than just hot sex, and you know it, even if you won’t admit it out loud.” And if they weren’t in a place where anyone could walk in on them, he’d push her up against the wall and prove it to her…make her melt with a kiss, make her moan with an intimate caress, and make her beg for what her body craved and her mind so obstinately refused to acknowledge. That she needed the physical and emotional connection they shared.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered in an aching tone.
A muscle in his cheek flexed. He had no idea if she was apologizing for all that had happened between them, or if she was feeling contrite for what she couldn’t bring herself to give to him. A commitment. And yes, promises, too. Either way, his annoyance and frustration mounted.
“I don’t want your apology, Jo. I want you,” he said, deciding that he was done catering to her fears when she held a huge part of his future in her hands. “And I’m optimistic enough to believe that we can find a way to make things work between us, even if it means long-distance commuting until I get things finalized with my father’s company.”
Her eyes widened in shock at his candid intentions, and she shook her head. “I’m not ready for that.”
Would she ever be ready to take that leap of faith with him? he wondered. He stared at her as long seconds ticked past and came t
o realize that, for her, backing away from taking personal risks now equaled no chance of experiencing more pain. She was so wrapped up in the remorse of her past actions that she refused to move forward with her life. He planned to give her a forceful nudge.
“Guilt is a powerful motivator, isn’t it, Jo?”
Her cheeks flushed a warm shade of red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” he countered bluntly. “The guilt you feel over Brian’s death motivates all your actions, whether you realize it or not. You lost Brian over a man who’d kidnapped a child, and now you pour all your extra time into finding abducted children. And you’re always caught up in trying to be tough and in control and proving to everyone around you that you’re strong and capable. You had a moment of weakness, Jo, and you have to get past the blame so you can forgive yourself and go on with your life.” He softened his tone. “It’s okay to be vulnerable, and it’s more than okay to need someone. You can’t let one incident rule the rest of your life.”
She remained quiet, and he took advantage of her silence to further his argument. “I know this isn’t something you want to hear, but I’m going to say it anyway. I’m falling in love with you, Jo.” Harsh laughter escaped him. “Fuck, who am I kidding? I’m already there.”
Once the words were out in the open, they felt right and undeniable and perfectly etched in his heart and soul. Closing the distance between them, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her silken cheek. “But maybe I need to wait for you to catch up and admit that you feel the same. Or maybe I’m a fool for believing you’ll eventually come around and realize that you have nothing at all to prove to me. That I care about you and accept you just the way you are, mistakes and all.”
Her eyes glittered with renewed moisture and conflicting emotions—longings, uncertainties, and deep-rooted fears. She chewed on her bottom lip, seemingly struggling with wanting to believe all he’d said, but allowing doubts to surface and shake her confidence.
She stayed silent. Their gazes remained connected, but Dean’s entire body felt hollow and empty, like he’d just lost an integral part of himself he never knew existed until he’d fallen in love with Jo. And that’s exactly what had happened, when he’d least expected it, too.
Now there was nothing left to say to convince this stubborn woman standing in front of him that her fear of failure was a logical insecurity after all she’d been through, that she did have the ability to conquer her darkest fears if only she’d make the effort. Her emotional scars ran deep, wrapped up tight in guilt and regrets only she could absolve. And while he knew with certainty that she possessed the internal strength to banish all those demons that haunted her dreams, her soul even, she had to believe it for herself.
The door to Jo’s office abruptly opened, and she visibly jumped and quickly swiped at the dampness clinging to her bottom lashes. She scowled at whoever had intruded into the room, and Dean glanced over his shoulder to find Cole standing in the middle of her office, a file folder in hand and a frown in place.
She shot her brother an annoyed look, which didn’t do much to cover up the misery still reflected on her face. “When a door is closed, that usually means a person wants privacy, Cole.”
Her brother’s gaze took in how upset Jo was, then shifted to Dean. His stare turned harsh and penetrating, protective even. “I didn’t know anyone was in here with you.”
“Exactly,” she said irritably. “Next time knock before you barge in.”
Cole strolled up to the front of Jo’s desk and tossed the file folder next to her opened laptop computer, though his gaze never left Dean’s. “Now that your name has been cleared, I thought you’d be long gone.”
Didn’t Cole wish, Dean thought. Refusing to let the other man intimidate him in any way, he shrugged. “Just tying up a few loose ends first,” he replied easily, and let Cole come to his own conclusions about that comment.
The room grew silent for long seconds, then Cole spoke again. “Since you’re here, it’ll save Jo a phone call. I just received word from Vince. The guy who assumed your identity was taken into custody last night at a warehouse raid where undercover cops traced a stolen vehicle.”
A huge burden had just been lifted off of Dean’s shoulders, yet one still remained. One he knew he’d carry with him all the way back to Seattle. “Thank you.” Figuring it was time he broke the ice with Jo’s brother, he extended his hand toward the other man. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
Cole shook Dean’s hand, the fierce lines creasing his expression easing a few degrees, but not completely. “Looks like I owe you an apology for this entire misunderstanding,” he said gruffly.
Dean managed a small smile. “It’s definitely been interesting.” And the incident had changed his entire life.
Since Cole wasn’t making any attempt to leave Jo’s office before he did, Dean was forced to say his final goodbyes in front of her brother. He honestly didn’t give a shit that Cole was watching his every move toward his sister. All Dean cared about was leaving Jo with the lasting impression that his feelings for her were genuine and real.
Cupping the back of her neck in his hand so she couldn’t pull away, he kissed her trembling lips lightly, hoping like hell it wouldn’t be the last time he was allowed the intimate privilege. Then he moved his mouth to her ear and murmured so only she could hear, “When you’re ready to let go of the past and embrace the future, you know where to find me.”
He exited her office, heard Cole follow behind, and before he could push through the front door, Cole stopped him.
“I have to ask,” Cole said, his voice rough as he pushed his fingers through his hair in an agitated gesture. “What are your intentions toward Jo?”
Dean thought about Cole’s brotherly question and realized the other man’s sister was the only person who could supply that particular answer. He shrugged. “That all depends on Jo’s intentions toward me.”
And both he and Cole were better off letting Jo figure out what she truly desired all on her own, and in her own time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“You certainly had yourself quite an adventurous trip to San Francisco.”
Dean smiled across the restaurant table at his mother, Anne. It was his first night back in Seattle after leaving Jo, and while he’d spent a good part of the day in negotiation meetings at the office, he’d cleared his evening specifically to spend a few hours with his mother.
She’d asked about his shortened vacation, and during their main course he’d entertained her with how he’d been taken into custody by a feisty female bounty hunter in a case of mistaken identity. His mother had been at first shocked and appalled at the thought of him being arrested, then gradually found humor in the situation once he’d assured her that his name had been cleared. And while he’d mentioned Jo in the scheme of his story, for the time being he kept the intimate details of his relationship with her to himself.
“All things considered, it was one of the most enjoyable vacations I can ever remember taking,” he replied, amusement still lingering in his voice. Done with his meal, he placed his fork on his plate and pushed the dish aside for the waiter to clear away. “Very spontaneous and fun, and just what I needed to clear my head.”
“You do look more relaxed,” Anne commented, then tipped her head and gently scrutinized his features. “But I have to admit I recognize that small, serious crease that appears between your brows when you have something important on your mind.”
He chuckled at his mother’s uncanny ability to read him and his shifting moods so well, a skill she’d developed when he was a kid and had spent too much time resenting the choices his father had made that didn’t include him. “Actually, there are two things I need to talk to you about.”
She leaned back in her chair as their server approached their table, took their dessert orders, and whisked away their dinner plates.
Once the waiter was gone, she asked, “Is everythi
ng okay?”
Drawing a deep, steady breath, he met her curious and concerned gaze. Despite being in her late fifties, his mother was still a beautiful woman and there seemed to be a new warmth and glow about her he’d never noticed before. Then again, had he ever really taken the time to notice the small changes and details around him since taking over the reins of his father’s company?
The answer—no—jumped into his mind much too easily.
Since Jo, he seemed so in tune to subtle changes and even the mundane things he’d lived with and accepted for years…such as how quiet and empty his house was. How big his king-sized bed seemed for just one person. And how much he craved the kind of laughter and loving he’d experienced so briefly with Jo.
“Things are okay with me,” he told his mother, knowing he lied. He wouldn’t be completely whole until Jo came to her senses and realized they belonged together. “Except a few things happened on my trip to San Francisco and I’ve made some decisions that will affect you, too.”
She folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for him to continue.
He grinned wryly. “Would you believe I fell hard for the woman who took me into custody and dragged me all the way back to California?”
Her hazel eyes widened in surprise. “The female bounty hunter?”
He nodded, and refrained from correcting his mother with the politically correct term of “bail enforcement agent” that Jo insisted upon. “I know it happened quickly,” he rushed on to explain, “but without a doubt I’m in love with her.”
His mother’s expression softened with genuine understanding, and without judgment. “There is no time limit on how long it takes a person to fall in love with someone, Dean. Sometimes those things happen when you least expect it.” Leaning forward, she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her laced fingers. “So why isn’t she here with you so I can meet her for myself?”
