A Holiday to Remember

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A Holiday to Remember Page 8

by Helen R. Myers


  Now sweating profusely, the teen all but mewed, “Sorry, Officer Anders.”

  “Me, too...mostly for your choice in friends. Don’t let him drag you down with him. Now head on home before I decide to take you there myself. I promise you, I would have no trouble waking Grandma.”

  At the patrol car, Mack heard the boys utter a few things under their breath, but they shoved off quickly enough. It was somewhat reassuring to see the kid named Kenny elbowing Ty and muttering, “Thanks for nothing.”

  When Alana returned to the car, she seemed cool and unruffled by what had happened. However, understanding that both of their professions required a certain amount of compartmentalizing, he still didn’t buy her performance completely. “That taller kid is trouble.”

  “He’s the other half of his mother’s broken heart. His father’s in prison—has been since Ty was in grade school. His mother works nights at Happy’s Stop’n’Go. She’s doing the best she can with him, but he’s got a giant chip on his shoulder.” As she drove them back toward the station, she asked, “What now? Do you want to come into the station for coffee? If you’re especially nice to Bunny, I’m sure she’d be willing to forget to tell the chief that you were here tonight.”

  “I have a better idea. How about going to the park to...park?”

  Alana cast him an amused glance. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

  “I guess I should...but are you at least tempted?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “What about coming over after your shift? You can fix that breakfast you owe me there.”

  “I always have breakfast with my uncle.”

  “What about after he leaves for the station?” Mack reached over and toyed with her ponytail as he admired her long neck. “I’ll dare you to say you have trouble sleeping afterward.”

  Laughter bubbled from Alana. “You’ll have to start without me. I’m going to be in court at 8:00.”

  “That’s heartless.”

  “That’s scheduling.”

  “What’s the case? Did someone have the nerve to challenge you on a ticket?”

  “Nothing that easy,” she said, turning into the station’s parking lot again. She stopped beside his truck. “The accused was caught in a breaking and entering robbery attempt. He was knocked unconscious as he attempted his getaway. He actually believes his clumsiness is my fault, and since he didn’t actually get away with anything, one bad deed—in his opinion—should offset the other.”

  “You’re not worried that the dent in his skull matches the butt of your gun?”

  Shutting off the engine, Alana released her seat belt and turned in her seat to face him. “He tripped over the family dog, who’s fourteen, deaf and all but blind from cataracts. It’s a miracle the poor thing didn’t have a heart attack from the shock of the big oaf falling on him.”

  “I’ll bet the D.A. loves it when he has you to testify in a trial.”

  “This from the man who doesn’t approve of women in uniform?”

  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t give credit where credit is due. You’re beautiful, unflappable. Precise, with a wicked bit of humor to keep the jury entertained.”

  He believed most women would bloom under a compliment like that, but Alana simply continued to watch him with an air of bemusement if not disbelief. Oddly enough, he found that as alluring as a come-hither look would have been. She was a complicated woman, bold one minute, disarming the next and always desirable.

  “Let me enlighten you about our D.A., Lewis Dodge. He prefers fishing to having to go to trial,” she pointed out. “Add that in a courtroom, he has a personality similar to Anthony Hopkins’s character in Silence of the Lambs, and you can believe me when I say that the accused tend to accept his plea offers. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’ll go that way today, as well.”

  Mack smiled, believing she was finally relenting. “Then my offer stands.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Determined, Mack reminded her of their agreement. “I can wait—if I have to. But what about my breakfast you agreed to bring me daily?”

  “I can drop it off on my way to court...or ask Uncle Duke to do it for me.”

  Clearing his throat, Mack replied, “Let’s leave him out of this. You know full well that I’m capable of making something myself from the things you already brought me.”

  “I do. What I don’t know is what happened today between you two.”

  Mack reached over to stroke her cheek, accepting that he was going home to an empty house and bed—a situation that looked like it would stay that way for some time yet. “He mostly growled and threw his weight around—all in defense of you, of course.”

  “How on earth did that compel you to come here and try to talk me into starting this fling we’re supposed to have?”

  Slipping his hand to her nape, Mack drew her toward him. “I admit it defies logic. But while it would probably be smarter for me to leave you alone, that is one empty and ugly house without you in it.”

  With that he closed his lips over hers. There wasn’t any anger or frustration this time. He simply wanted to make sure that she thought of him after he left. He sure as hell would be thinking of her.

  He liked how she let him direct the kiss, liked realizing that her lips felt even better than he remembered, and how her tongue accepted then flirted with his. He groaned, wanting to unbutton her uniform and begin to learn what else she liked.

  When he finally, reluctantly eased his lips from hers, he found her slow to open her eyes. Feeling a tug somewhere deep inside, he kissed one eyelid, then the other.

  “How sweet,” she murmured, sounding touched. “Didn’t know you had that in you, gyrene.”

  “Don’t let it get around.”

  Alana brushed her lips against his. “I’m glad you came.”

  “I’ll be waiting to see if you mean it.”

  Her throaty laughter stayed with him all the way home. It also kept him aroused most of the night.

  * * *

  When Alana let herself into Mack’s house on Friday morning, she’d already showered and changed into cut-offs and a white, eyelet vestlike top that left her tanned arms bare, as well as her midriff. As with her best lingerie, it was one of the items that made her feel ultrafeminine. She decided that’s exactly what the moment called for.

  She never had gotten to see Mack on Thursday. As luck would have it, the plea bargain was rejected and the trial went forward. By the time she got out of court, she barely managed ninety minutes of sleep before she had to report for her shift. She did talk to him, but only by phone while on duty that night. But what conversations they were.

  “Did you miss me?”

  “In ways that would make you blush.”

  “I’m alone and on my personal BlackBerry. Do tell.”

  “Be careful what you ask for. Better yet, let me come down there and I’ll tell you in person.”

  “Don’t you dare. It’s a miracle that we haven’t crossed paths with Ed when you’ve been in the vehicle with me, and I don’t want anything to be said to the chief.”

  “Then tell me you’ll skip breakfast with your uncle in the morning and have it with me.”

  “As if you’re interested in food. I’ll see you shortly after he leaves. You’re really trying to get me into trouble, aren’t you?”

  “Into something, but not that.”

  “Are you sure you’re in condition yet for that much physical activity?”

  “Probably not quite enough to keep up with you, but I thought if I put myself into your tender care...”

  “An easy man. How novel.”

  “Go ahead and tease, sweetheart. The important thing is that anything you do for me, I will return the pleasure—with pleasure.”

  “It’s interesting how your voice goes suede-smooth whenever I say something that rubs against your ego.”

  “Rub away. This phone is fully charged.”

  Chapter Five

  At br
eakfast, Alana could barely keep her mind on her conversation with Duke. Worse, she was convinced that he knew or sensed something was up because he was dragging his feet when he should have been out the door and off to the station ten minutes ago. Then he kept nagging that she wasn’t eating enough of the omelet he’d made for her; and then there were the unending questions about court. He rarely asked more than, “Did you win?” or “Guilty or innocent?”

  When he asked her if she was going to enter the rodeo at the county fair in a few weeks—something he usually prayed that she wouldn’t do—she all but snapped. “What’s up with you?”

  “I couldn’t remember if you’d said you were going to participate or not. Sue me.”

  “I told you last year that I was done with that. Tanker’s getting too old to compete with the younger kids, and so am I,” she told him. “And if you drag your feet any longer, you’re going to have Ted, Phil and Skip calling here wondering if they should trigger an all-points bulletin on your behalf.”

  “I’m the boss,” he reminded her, tapping his badge. “I can take an extra five minutes if I want to. Why are you so defensive?”

  Hearing her voice rise up an octave from her usual tone, Alana took a calming breath. “I guess with only a nap instead of some real rest yesterday, I must be a bit off balance. Sorry to offend.”

  Duke carried his dishes to the sink. “Well, put this stuff into the dishwasher for a change and go to bed. And when you wake up, if you feel as though you need to switch days with one of the weekend guys because you’re still not feeling like yourself, you’ve got my blessing. I’m leaving early this afternoon to go fishing with Dodge. I’ll change at the station and my truck will be at his place.”

  “Good timing,” she said, hoping she sounded more like herself. “We just used the last package of fillets in the freezer. Have fun.”

  “Fun...I’ll be grateful to just bring my blood pressure down ten points. You be careful. I meant what I said about trading days, because we don’t need you falling asleep at the wheel, or daydreaming yourself off the road—not to mention adding a car repair to our tight budget.”

  Alana was still pinching the bridge of her nose when she heard the door shut behind him. She wished she’d never said anything about being tired, although she was—but only a little. Now Duke would be watching her more than ever. What upset her the most was that he knew what was really on her mind, and it wasn’t lost sleep, it was Mack. She could see it in his dear, time-worn face, and could feel his concern and—maybe not disapproval, but doubt, to be sure.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, feeling responsibility war with desire. She had to rein herself in or it would be Duke that she put into an early grave.

  She was still beating herself up when she entered Mack’s house a half hour later. She’d used her key as he told her to and, as soon as she closed the door, she heard water running on the other side of the house. Setting the insulated tote she’d packed on the kitchen table, she followed the sound to his bedroom that still only contained the queen-size bed, a nightstand and an antique armoire. Pausing in the doorway, she looked through the room to the bathroom where Mack stood with his back to her, wearing only a towel as he shaved at the sink. His wounds were healing better now, and weren’t the angry red they were the other day.

  “That explains the running water I heard,” she said, feeling her attraction threaten to undermine what she knew she needed to do.

  His gaze locked with hers via the mirror for several seconds before his sweeping glance took in her white eyelet vest and short cut-offs. “I delayed my shower as long as I could hoping you’d invite yourself in and join me.”

  “Tempting thought, but I already had mine.” She flipped her still-damp ponytail over her shoulder. It was already drying into glossy waves. “Meet you in the kitchen.”

  His surprised and confused expression worked on her willpower, but by the time he joined her, she had coffee poured from the thermos she’d brought. The rest of what she’d brought him remained in the insulated red tote. At least she didn’t have to steel herself against his state of undress; taking her retreat seriously, he’d slipped into jeans and another of Fred’s looser T-shirts.

  Hesitating only a second, he accepted the stainless thermos cup she offered him. “I’m just going to come out and ask—did I miss something between when we said good-night on the phone last night and now?”

  “No. You’ve been fun and tempting—and you still are.” Feeling a bit like a fool, Alana shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts to keep from stroking her fingers down his chest, envious that the white cotton T-shirt was getting to touch skin that she would deny herself. “It’s just...me. Look, if you’d rather I leave, I will.”

  “Whoa.” Holding up a finger to entreat her patience, he took an eager sip of coffee, then two more in fairly rapid succession, an impressive feat considering that steam was rising from the metal cup. “Okay. Maybe I have enough caffeine in me to jar my brain awake. Go ahead and tell me what’s going on.” But when she averted her gaze, he murmured, “Ah. I don’t think you have to. The calendar threw us a curve?”

  Alana hadn’t thought of using her monthly cycle as an excuse. But if she had, she would have rejected that, too. He deserved the truth from her. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just not...myself. Hey,” she added too brightly, “let’s blame it on that blue moon, too.”

  “What blue moon?” Mack asked, looking lost.

  “The night we met. There was one. It’s just two full moons occurring in one month, but the fanciful and romantic like to—never mind.” Alana shook her head. How could she tell him that it was her blue heart—or blue soul—that was really the problem without him concluding that she really was half-crazy?

  Mack studied her quietly before abruptly putting down the cup and murmuring, “Come here.”

  With a lump surging into her throat, Alana went into his arms. Did he understand what had no words, except that, quite simply, very little was right with her world?

  “Does this help?” he murmured near her ear.

  “This is...lovely.”

  “What happened after we talked last night?”

  “Nothing—that’s the truth. It’s just that...today I’m not that person you were talking to and flirting with.”

  “I think I understand.”

  “I wish that was possible.”

  Mack started to gently rock her. “There’s been a time or two as I stumbled through the male-female jungle when I asked a girl out, then fifteen minutes afterward I’d wonder why the devil did I do that? I wasn’t really drawn to her, but I had nothing else going on. The last time that happened, I made myself call her back and apologize, as well as explain. As hurtful as that was to her, she was wryly grateful because it would have been ten times worse for her to spend hours with me only to learn that I didn’t feel anything and never would.”

  “That took character,” Alana replied with respect. “But...this isn’t that, Mack. I just told you I’m attracted to you. Very.”

  He stopped rocking her, and kissed her forehead. “That’s me, relieved.”

  “Whereas I feel as though I’ve just been reduced to being your cousin.”

  With a bark of laughter, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It wasn’t the hungry passion she knew it would have been if they were still back in his bedroom starting to make love, but even this way, Mack could make her heart pound and the rest of her body ache with longing.

  When he raised his head, she murmured, “That is me, relieved.”

  “Good. Now talk to me.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, Alana began. “You’re going to call it depression, just as Uncle Duke does and the doctors did, but it’s not. I’ve seen depression, heck sometimes I am depressed. I know the difference.”

  “I promise not to use the word.”

  Searching his face, she decided she could believe him. “Okay. I was committed to coming here,” she continued, trying
another route. “And I could see that Uncle Duke was reading me like a book. He knew that I was about to throw myself at you the way I passionately do the other activities in my life that I use to ignore the pain, to get some temporary relief from the pain, until something goes wrong and I get hurt.”

  “He did mention you’ve broken a few bones.”

  Alana winced imagining that conversation. “If I wanted to kill myself, I’d have been dead a long time ago.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Mack stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “And I like that you feel passion...especially if it’s directed at me.”

  With a rueful twist of her lips, she replied, “I figured you would lock in on that.”

  “I heard everything.” His expression grew serious. “You’re lost in grief.”

  Alana had to close her eyes against the rush of tears that came with relief. He understood—this man she only met days ago. She could hardly believe it.

  He took her in his arms again. “I’m sorry. Those probably sound like empty words, but I am.”

  “No, they’re special coming from you because I know you haven’t had an easy life yourself,” she replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. “People think I should be fine by now, that time heals all wounds. But it’s like a knife is constantly embedded in my heart. I feel like I should have a bookcase full of Academy Awards instead of riding trophies and ribbons for managing to fool as many people as I have.”

  Mack pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Ironically, I’ve spent most of my life preferring not to feel at all.”

  “A fine pair we make.”

  “I don’t know...blackmailing you into bringing me breakfast every day seems like the smartest thing I’ve done in a while.”

  Easing out of his embrace, Alana gave him a speaking glance. “If you mean that, I have a suggestion.”

  Reaching for the stainless cup again, Mack all but inhaled the contents. Once finished, he fastened the cup in place and returned the thermos to the tote, inspecting the remaining contents at the same time. “I take it that’s why this isn’t unpacked yet?”

 

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