Trust Me (The Donovan Family Book 4)

by Margaret Watson

  "She have kids?" Connor asked, nodding at the minivan.

  "Only the ones in her class and on her team." He jerked his head at her van. "She told me she bought it so she could ferry the girls to and from their meets."

  "Driving a minivan in the city? That's dedication."

  "That's Raine." He nudged Connor as he began walking toward the van. "Let's get our assignments."

  "What?"

  Jennings didn't answer, so Connor followed him. When he got there, the coach was calling out names, followed by, "You're with Detective Jennings. The rest of you are with Detective Donovan."

  The three girls he'd been assigned looked liked the oldest girls. He smiled at them, and they all nodded to him. None of them smiled back. "What were your names again?" he asked.

  The tallest girl, who looked biracial with creamy skin and braided hair said, "I'm Renata. This is Katya," she touched another tall girl's shoulder. Katya was blond and equally straight-faced. "And this is Bella."

  Dark-haired Bella was shorter, but she narrowed her eyes at him. "You a safe driver?"

  Connor swallowed a smile. "I am."

  "You better be." Bella glanced at Raine. "'Cause Ms. Taylor will kick your ass if you have an accident with us in the car."

  "Bella," Renata growled. "Knock it off. You know what Ms. Taylor said."

  What did she say? He wanted to ask. Badly. Instead he opened the rear door of his car and stepped back so the girls could slide in. "Bella's right," he said easily. "From what I saw at your meet, Ms. Taylor could kick my ass into the middle of next week." The thought made him frown, and he glanced at Raine Taylor again. She stood at the side of the minivan, waiting for all the girls to climb inside. She was the right size and shape.

  He was interrupted by Bella, yelling, "Shotgun."

  "Sorry, Bella. Back seat," he ordered. The girl scowled, and he added, "Computer's on the front seat."

  Along with the hoodie that belonged to his mysterious prowler.

  Bella stared him down. "I'll hold it on my lap."

  "Sorry. Back seat."

  "How come?"

  Connor focused on the girl more closely. Her scowling gaze challenged him. It piqued his interest. "Because I'm a cop. We don't let passengers ride in the front seat."

  "So we're like your prisoners." The girl's voice was too angry for such a simple reason, and he wondered why.

  "Nope. Because we have lots of equipment up here. Stuff we might need to get to in a hurry. I don't want you to get hurt."

  As he slid into the car, the faint fragrance that clung to the material drifted up to him, and he froze. Lemons and that odd prairie fragrance.

  No. That was an impossible coincidence. He glanced toward the minivan, but Raine was already in the driver's seat.

  If it walked like a duck and squawked like a duck...

  He barely noticed when Bella slammed the door of the car.

  There was complete silence in the back of the car as he pulled away from the curb and followed Jennings' cruiser. Taylor's minivan was in front of Jennings. He finally glanced in the rear view mirror and said, "How long have you all been doing tae kwon do?"

  "Two years," Renata said.

  "Me, too," Bella said. The girl was staring at him as if she wanted to show him her moves personally.

  "Katya?" he asked.

  "I started this year."

  Katya was the girl who'd fallen to the mat during practice. "You must be proud of yourselves. Tae kwon do looks like a hard sport to learn."

  "Aren't you going to say we looked great?" Bella challenged him.

  "I don't know enough about the sport to say that. I do know that you all looked like you work very hard."

  Silence again. He glanced in the rear view mirror to see all three girls exchanging glances, as if silently communicating their next move.

  Ahead of him, he saw Jennings pull to the curb in front of a school building. "Looks like we're here."

  Before he was completely out of the car, all three girls had exited. Bella and Renata sprinted away, while Katya smiled shyly at him. "Thank you for the ride, Detective Donovan." She glanced at her friends. "They're angry because they wanted to ride with Ms. Taylor. But it wasn't their turn."

  "You take turns?"

  Katya nodded. "Ms. Taylor has a chart."

  The woman was organized. About everything? Did she have a regular jogging schedule? Would she go past Northrup's house again? Or would she stop when she got there?

  He blinked and smiled at Katya. "Sounds fair to have a chart." He nodded to her. "Maybe I'll see you at another meet."

  "Probably not. Detective Jennings is the only one who's come more than once." She turned and darted away.

  Instead of driving away, Connor leaned against his car and watched Taylor talking to Jennings. They waited as several of the girls got into cars and the rest headed down the sidewalk, clearly walking home.

  "Good meet," Jennings said. "See you at the next one, Rainie."

  "We'll be there," she said. She walked Jennings to his car, then turned to Connor. "Thanks again for coming." She smiled, and he noticed her eyes were a deep, clear green. "We all appreciate everything your precinct does for us, Detective."

  "Glad I made it today, Ms. Taylor." He watched her carefully. "I'd like to talk to you. Want to grab something to eat?"

  "No thanks." Her gaze flickered away from him. "I need to get going."

  Connor reached into the car and pulled out the hoodie. "Then what do you want me to do with this?"

  Chapter 2

  Raine stared at the familiar hoodie dangling from Detective Donovan's hand, a sloppy mix of emotions churning in her gut. Fear. Disappointment. Regret. That guy from last night, outside Peter's house, had been a cop.

  The same cop who'd walked into the gym with Alex this afternoon.

  She'd noticed Detective Donovan the moment the gym door closed behind him. Something had fluttered in her chest, and it had been hard to take her eyes off the tall cop with the dark hair and bright blue eyes.

  She wanted to pretend she'd recognized him from the night before. That something about him was familiar, and her subconscious was warning her.

  But she never lied to herself.

  She'd noticed him because he was hot. Alex's buddy totally rang her chimes.

  Figured that the first guy to do it for her in the past six months was a cop. And not only that, the one who'd seen her last night.

  There was a positive to this disaster, she reminded herself. Peter had called the police. He'd seen her in front of his house. Which meant he was awake at three AM. Looking out his window.

  It meant he was freaking out. Exactly what she wanted.

  "You going to say you don't recognize it?" Donovan said. For a moment, she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes.

  "Just shocked that you found it," she said. Her voice was steady, thank God. Curious. Not guilty. She extended her hand for the hoodie, but Donovan kept it out of her reach.

  "Why wouldn't I? It was right where you left it." Donovan crushed the material in his fist. "On LeMoyne last night."

  "That was you?" An innocent woman would be furious. And even though she wasn't innocent – she'd been there, hoping Peter noticed – she was furious, too. The guy last night had identified himself as a police officer, but she'd thought he'd been lying. She took a step toward him and clenched her jaw. "You scared the shit out of me."

  "What were you doing in front of that house on LeMoyne?"

  "I was tying my shoe." Her prepared cover story. She lifted her chin. "What were you doing out there at three a.m."

  "Responding to a call about a prowler."

  She scowled. Time to go on the attack. "Did I look like a prowler? I was out for a run."

  "At that time of day?"

  Raine shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I hadn't run for a few days, so I thought I'd tire myself out with a run."

  "Then why didn't you stop when I yelled 'police'?"

  She couldn't
read his gaze. She studied him more carefully. Most men were an open book.

  Not Connor Donovan.

  "It was three a.m.," she finally said, narrowing her eyes. "You weren't wearing a uniform. You were in an unmarked car. If you were a woman out running at that time of night and some guy jumped out of a car and tried to grab you, what would you do?"

  He stared at her for a long moment, and she could see him wavering. Finally he said, "I'd run, too."

  "There you go." She held out her hand. "Give me my jacket." When he continued to stare, she added, "Please."

  He tilted his head as his gaze flickered over her, then he tossed it through the window of his car. "Think I'll hold onto it for a while. Maybe talk to the guy who called in the prowler."

  "What the hell for? I just told you I was there. Not like you're going to prove something by getting my DNA off it."

  "Something is tickling my brain. Until I figure out what it is, I'm keeping it."

  Ignoring the trickle of fear sliding through her, she said, "What are you going to do with it? You some kind of perv, Donovan?"

  Instead of getting angry and tossing the jacket in her face, like most men would, he smiled. "You're good, Taylor." He leaned against the car and crossed his arms. "I'm doing my job." Without taking his gaze off her, he nodded toward the open window of the car. "That hoodie? Evidence."

  "Of what?" She raised one eyebrow. "After-hours running?"

  "Most people who run at night wear bright clothes. So people can see them."

  "Don't need to shine like a flashlight if you don't run in the street. And neon green clashes with my eyes."

  Wait. She was flirting with him. Not acceptable. And so not smart.

  Too late. He smiled slowly. "Is that right? Come on over here so I can check that for myself."

  "Sorry. You'll have to take my word for it." She glanced at the car. "And aren't you afraid I'll snatch my hoodie and run?"

  "You seem very attached to that thing."

  She stilled for a heartbeat, pushing the grief down deep, then forced herself to shrug. "Sentimental value."

  "Yeah?" He straightened and shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked all casual and easy, but his gaze was like a laser, probing her thoughts.

  "Yeah. Won a few...races while I was wearing it."

  Her sister had given her that hoodie seven years ago when Raine won her first tae kwon do match. Genie had worn it to the match, then handed it to Raine and told her it was her good luck charm. That the black jacket would lead her to her black belt.

  Raine had worn it to every match after that. She'd gotten her first degree black belt three years later. Genie had been there to applaud.

  That hoodie and her memories were all she had left of her sister.

  She glanced at the car window again. She needed it back. "I'll need a receipt for it."

  "Sure." He reached into the car window and pulled out a small notebook, scribbled something on a page, tore it off and held it out to her. "Here you go."

  Strategic mistake. She'd have to get close enough to take the piece of paper.

  She leaned closer and closed her hand around it, but he held on tight. His gaze drifted over her. "You're right," he finally said. His voice washed over her like the brush of a hand. "Never wear neon green. It wouldn't do justice to your eyes."

  His fingers brushed hers where she gripped the receipt. The slight touch sizzled up her arm and made her skin heat. She stared at him, shocked. She didn't fall into instant lust. Definitely not with a cop.

  Especially not the cop who'd almost caught her outside Peter's house last night.

  She let go of the piece of paper and stared up at him. His scent lingered in the air between them. It reminded her of the air after a lightning storm, sharp and tangy and fresh. Elemental.

  Of course it did. Because that's exactly how she felt – struck by lightning.

  She couldn't let him see. "Receipt or hoodie, detective," she managed to say.

  He held it out to her, as if daring her to take it from him. She snatched it from his fingers and shoved it into her pocket.

  She turned to go. She needed to get away from him so she could re-build her self-control, brick by careful brick. She'd taken two steps when his voice stopped her.

  "Raine."

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  "I need a few more answers. Have dinner with me."

  God help her, but she was tempted. He towered over her measly five feet three inches, but he didn't feel physically threatening. In spite of his wide shoulders, he was built like a runner, all long, lean muscles and sinewy strength. Close up, his eyes were even bluer than she'd realized, and they were framed by laugh lines

  She didn't have a lot of laughter in her life.

  "Sorry, Detective. Not interested."

  His smile told her that he didn't believe her. He'd noticed her reaction to him. "Another time, then."

  "You'll let me know when I can have my jacket back?"

  "Don't worry. I'll be in touch." He strolled around the car, slid into the driver's seat and drove off without looking back.

  She watched his car until it disappeared around the corner.

  ***

  The next afternoon, Raine was surrounded by her girls, preparing to demonstrate a kick, when the gym door opened. The subtle change in air pressure washed over her, making her skin prickle.

  The principal, checking up on them.

  Denny Hoyer didn't approve of the tae kwon do club. He didn't approve of any sport that wasn't basketball, football or baseball. Raine suspected that, deep down, he didn't think girls should participate in sports. But he was smart enough not to say so.

  She'd gotten the funding from the police department, though, and he hadn't been able to come up with a reason to deny her request to start the club.

  He wasn't happy about it. He spent a lot of time checking on their practices, and Raine figured he was looking for a reason to disband the club.

  She was very careful not to give him one.

  Without looking toward the door, she explained the kick, showed the girls how to do it, then asked them to try it themselves. By focusing on her team, she could ignore Denny's disapproving glare.

  Finally, when each of her twelve girls had attempted the kick, she told them to take a water break and glanced at the door.

  She expected to see Denny scowling at her.

  Not Denny. Connor Donovan. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

  When he caught her eye, he pushed away from the wall and strolled over. "Hey, Ms. Taylor. Girls. You all looked pretty impressive doing that kick. Have you been working on it for a long time?"

  "Why are you trying to suck up to us?" Bella demanded. "That was the first time we tried it."

  Connor studied Bella for a long moment. Then he raised his eyebrows. "Really? I'm even more impressed, then."

  If Raine didn't always look for the subtext, she might accept the compliment as genuine. Instead, she probed his gaze, looking for the hidden meaning.

  She didn't see it. Which meant he was being honest.

  Either that, or her bullshit detector was on the fritz.

  "Thank you, Detective Donovan," she said with a forced smile. "What brings you here today?"

  His gaze settled on her for a long moment, then drifted over the girls. "I was impressed yesterday. I wanted to see what a practice looks like."

  Her bullshit detector began clanging wildly. He wasn't here for the girls. He was here for her.

  Her chest tightened. Cops were thorough. Had he talked to Peter? Found out about his mugged and murdered wife?

  She swallowed and raised her chin. "If you wanted to watch a practice, you should have gotten here earlier. We're just about finished." She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes left. "Girls, go ahead and do your laps."

  The girls began jogging around the perimeter of the gym, but every head swiveled to watch Donovan approach her. "Watch where you're going," she called
to the girls. "Or you'll run into the wall."

  Most of the girls looked away. Bella, however, continued to scowl at Donovan. Raine would have to ask him what had happened in the car on the way back from the match.

  No. She wouldn't be discussing her girls with Donovan like the two of them were friends or something.

  Or something. Yeah. She'd thought about him last night. Dreamt about him. Woken up in the middle of the night, hot and sweaty and aroused.

  She'd be civil. She'd let him ask his questions, give him vague answers, then hustle him out of the gym as soon as possible.

  He came to a stop a couple of feet away from her. It was a reasonable distance. He wasn't crowding her. But it felt far too close.

  He might be too far away to touch, but his scent drifted over her. His jeans were white at the stress points and fit him like a glove. They hugged his thighs and... No. She jerked her gaze away. She wasn't looking there. And she would not think about what his ass looked like in those jeans.

  She needed to get a grip.

  It was his fault she hadn't slept well last night. His fault that she couldn't keep her mind in the game. She had to be careful with Donovan. And right now, her brain felt like mush. Hormones had her body going places that horrified her.

  "Ms. Taylor." His gaze swept over her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Heat crept up her neck. "Detective. What are you doing here?"

  "I told you – I wanted to see a practice."

  "You're a little late. We're done."

  One side of his mouth curled into a smile. "Then I'll have to come earlier next time."

  She didn't want a next time. But his precinct was the one sponsoring the club, and she'd told Alex many times that the officers were welcome to visit a practice. She'd actually encouraged him to send his fellow officers to the school.

  What had she been thinking?

  They stared at one another, neither of them speaking. Her heart thudded against her chest and heat swept over her as his pupils dilated. To her horror, her own body stirred in response.

  She couldn't stop her gaze from sliding down his body to the bulge in his jeans. She jerked her head away. Focus on the girls.