“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Any pretense of a smile was wiped away by the question. He had to look up to meet her eyes. “He sacrificed so much for me. Years. His dignity. His soul. I don’t know how to make it up to him.”
“Is that what he wants? A sacrifice from you in return? I don’t think so.”
“What if he’s disappointed in what I’ve done with my life?”
“You’re the chief of police. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
“For a sleepy little southern town that hardly sees trouble.” His small, ironic laugh was accompanied by a headshake. “Clayton and I hated the police growing up. Thought they were all corrupt.”
“Were they?”
“Some were, but most were decent men trying their best to instill order amongst chaos.”
She shifted to face him and put her hands on his shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting touch, but selfishly she noted the width and strength of the bunched muscles. Keeping her mind focused even as her body took off on a tangent, she dissected his words.
“Your life was chaos, wasn’t it?”
“My life was…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Things were sometimes difficult.”
“I’m sensing major understatement.”
He raised a hand to her knee, the heat like a spotlight, both comforting and uncomfortable. She tried to ignore the urges of her body, but one of her hands slipped inside his shirt collar to curl around his neck and thread through the soft hair at his nape.
Instead of shaking her off as she expected, he took a step closer, and his other hand joined the first, inching up the outside of her thighs. Neither of them acknowledged the mutiny of their bodies.
“At the time, I didn’t realize how hard things were. Looking back, it’s a wonder either one of us made it out alive,” he said.
“Did you have anything to do with the drugs the police found?”
“God, no.” His vehement denial registered as the absolute truth. “Drugs were a hard line I refused to cross—dealing or using. I had no idea Clayton had gotten into selling. He’d moved into some dumpy apartment and left me with Mama.”
Undertones in his voice led her to the next question. “You were mad about that?”
His jaw tightened as did the clamp of his hands around her thighs. “I was pissed. I partly stole that car to get his attention. I wanted to show him I could handle things as well as he could. But I couldn’t. I got caught, and he took the fall to protect me.”
She massaged at the tension in his neck and along his shoulders. “Have you thought that maybe you saved his life? It might not seem like it right now, but he has a chance to build a future. If he hadn’t been caught, what would have happened? My guess is he would have gotten in even deeper with more serious consequences—a life sentence or maybe killed on the streets.”
His head dropped so she could no longer see his face. “Why am I telling you all this? We barely know each other.”
She’d asked herself the same question the night before when she’d spilled her past to him. “Maybe that’s what makes it easier.”
He looked up and examined her like she was guilty of breaking and entering his mind. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“What is it then?” Her mouth had dried and turned her voice scratchy.
“I think it’s you.”
“You mean because I’m a psychologist?”
“No. Because you’re you.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but a sense of belonging overcame her. After years of not quite fitting in, she suddenly felt grounded in who and where she was. Maybe who she was with too. But that kind of thought smashed the definition of an infatuation, and she couldn’t consider the implications with his hands still on her thighs.
Steering them back into safer waters, she asked, “What’s your brother want to do?”
“He wants to make a clean start in Cottonbloom.”
“Then help him,” she said simply, even as she recognized how complicated the situation was.
“I will. Of course I will.” Hesitancy hitched his voice.
“You’re worried about how having an ex-con brother is going to mesh with your job.”
His mouth parted. “How do you do that?”
“Remember my doctorate in psychology?” She tried a smile, but he didn’t return it. “You’re worried and even a little resentful your tidy little life is about to get messy. That doesn’t mean you’re going to abandon your brother, right?”
“I’m going to do everything in my power to help him get back on his feet, but… what if he gets back into trouble. It would be my job to arrest him.”
She took a quick intake of breath. She should have guessed. Being the cause of his brother going back to jail was his deepest fear.
“He seems determined, and you have his back.” She didn’t do him the disservice of spouting guarantees when life had none.
His hands gravitated higher, all the way to her hips. He pulled her forward a few inches, enough that she automatically spread her legs to accommodate his torso.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispered.
“You’ve never met anyone totally neurotic and screwed up? I’ve been walking around the house with a pink-and-black nine iron all day. I even debated on bringing it with me tonight, but I figured you’d think I was too crazy to take out in public.”
His slow smile grew into a grin. The same one that had sent her into a tailspin the day before. Something about this man called to the light and dark inside her. Because of the way they’d met, neither one of them had had the chance to hide their issues. Yet here he was, smiling up at her with his hands clutching her hips looking like maybe he wanted to kiss her, and Lord help her, but she wanted him to.
He tugged her even closer, and she closed her eyes, waiting, hoping, the rush of her blood the only sound, the dark night around her forgotten. Finally, when she was ready to give up, his lips touched hers and she melted. It had been a long time.
For a few months after the attack, her trust had been shattered to the point being with any man incited wariness. When she got over the primal fear of men in general, she had refused the few men who’d asked for a date. Trying to go anywhere at night with a man would have run her crazy flag up the pole for everyone to see. But none of that seemed to matter with Thad.
He’d seen her at her worst and accepted her. He’d earned her trust, and with him, the fears of the night were kept at bay. And God, it had been a long time. She surrendered to the sensation of his lips sliding along hers. With a throaty moan, she opened her mouth and touched his tongue with hers.
His chest rumbled with an answering call. He seemed as desperate and out of control as she felt. He cupped her butt and pulled her flush with his body, her core pressed against his lower stomach. She wiggled against him, needing more.
She ran her hands over the planes of his back, the muscles shifting in the wake of her fingernails. What would his skin feel like? She gathered the fabric of his shirt in her fists to pull it out of his waistband. Headlights flashed as a car turned toward them, and she froze like the proverbial deer. The spell was broken.
He pulled away, sliding his hands to her knees. His face was flushed, his hair mussed, and his eyes glassy. Her gaze traveled down, and the definite ridge of an erection was clearly visible to the side of his zipper. She swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away.
“We should hit the road before we get reported for public indecency.” The tease in his voice was something new, like she’d earned enough points to unlock the next level of his personality.
She swung her legs around, surprised at how trembly they felt and not from fear this time. “Weak in the knees” was apparently a real affliction and one she’d never experienced. “Pretty funny if your brother had to bail us out though, huh?”
His laughter lingered as he closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. He was still smiling when he joined her a
nd cranked the engine. “Thought we’d head over the river. Easier for me to relax when everyone doesn’t assume I’m there in an official capacity.”
“I haven’t explored the Louisiana side.” She tucked one leg underneath her, halfway facing him. “I suppose it’s impossible for you to really clock out.”
“Yep. I get calls after hours or in the middle of night if it’s an emergency. But I don’t mind. Work is all I have.”
“Not anymore,” she whispered. She hadn’t meant to imply anything, but her face heated with the look he shot her. “I mean, you have your brother.”
His lips twitched. “I know what you meant.”
Her spine turned from steel back into bone, and the inferno in her cheeks faded to a low simmer. Yet her thoughts tumbled as she touched her lips. Was this a date or a distraction?
As they crossed the bridge that led from Mississippi into Louisiana, she paid more attention to their surroundings. Nothing was much different from the Mississippi side from what she could tell, except more farmhouses and fewer neighborhoods. A couple of miles out of town, he turned down a side road and into a parking lot full of mostly pickup trucks broken up with the occasional sedan. A faded sign was lit by a floodlight—The Rivershack Tavern.
Even though he’d parked close to a light, she waited for him to come around and open her door. “Looks popular,” she said to cover her hesitation.
He held a hand out. The moment extended into uncomfortable territory, yet not a hint of impatience colored his expression or stance. Finally it was his dark brown eyes that drew her forward and had her slipping her hand into his. Trust. She trusted him completely, which was crazy considering how short a time they’d known one another.
A thick-necked man at the door waved them inside. “Evening, Chief Preston.”
“I’m off the clock, Butch. You can call me Thad.”
Butch saluted with two fingers as they walked past. “Sure thing, Chief.”
The tavern was crowded. A half-dozen pool tables took up one side of the room, the clink of balls punctuating the low buzz of conversation and laughter. Country music played like white noise in the background. The vibe was relaxed and happy.
He’d maintained a hold on her hand since they’d left the truck, and he pulled her through the crowd toward the bar on the far side of the room. He was a big, intimidating man, but she got the impression the parting of the crowd was due more to respect than fear. Thad was his job whether he was on the clock or not.
After procuring two beers, he dipped his head toward a far corner and an empty table, taking the chair that kept his back against the wall, his gaze scanning the crowd. Wanting to people watch too, she scooted her chair close to his.
He relaxed, his arm coming around the back of her chair, his knees spreading wide and brushing hers. She leaned close so he could hear her over the din of music and conversation. “Do you know most of the people in here?”
“Most, but not all.”
A wiry, fortyish man in an untucked blue shirt with the name Ronnie stitched over his heart stopped on his way to the bar and leaned on a spare chair. “Hey, Thad, how’s your team looking this spring?”
“A sight better than yours, I’d imagine. We’ll probably both get spanked by Fournettes’ team.” Thad’s easygoing tone belied the competitive fire in his half smile.
Ronnie laughed. “No doubt about that.”
Thad made brief introductions, and she shook the man’s hand, clean except for grease under his fingernails that she imagined was permanent.
“Has he recruited you to play?” Ronnie asked her.
“No, he hasn’t.” She shifted slightly. “In fact, I have no idea what you two are talking about.”
Thad’s laugh came easier than she’d ever heard it. “Last spring, Cottonbloom restarted its baseball league. It went defunct when the two sides of town split so many years ago. Nowadays, the rivalries are a little less violent. The college has a team. You should join.”
“I’m not terribly athletic.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling at her understatement.
“Aw, it’s all for fun these days. I’ll talk to you two later.” Ronnie gave a nod and smile and made his way into the wall of bodies at the bar.
“Is it really just for fun?”
“It’s good community outreach for the police department.” He shrugged and took a swig of beer. She cocked an eyebrow. His lips quirked around the rim. “And I like to win.”
“I figured as much. Who does Ronnie play for?”
“The auto-parts factory. That and the crayfish industry keep a majority of the parish employed.” He gestured around them. “I’ll bet this is a different crowd than you’re used to after growing up in the fanciest part of New Orleans.”
It was. She took a slow draw on her beer. She wasn’t a snob. She just hadn’t had the opportunity to cross paths with the typical middle-class, blue-collar types that filled the tavern. She lowered her beer and moved her gaze to him. He was comfortable among these people.
“What was your mother like?” she asked.
His aura hardened, and he focused on separating the label from his beer bottle. “Her goal was to keep us alive and out of jail until we turned eighteen. She used to count down the years. ‘Five more years, Thaddeus, and I get to wash my hands of you.’ And then she’d laugh and laugh.”
A kernel of anger germinated in her chest for Thad. “That’s not very funny.”
He shot her a glance under his lashes but worked on the label as if it was as important as disarming a bomb. “After Katrina, she checked out. Stopped caring about us, herself, everything.”
“Drugs?”
“Prescription painkillers and sleep aids and antidepressants. All of it legal.”
“Who took care of you?”
“Clayton,” he said simply but with a complicated range of emotions flickering over his face. “Looking back, I realize it was too much. He wasn’t old or mature enough, but at the time, he was all I had.”
She reached for the hand scraping at the sticky adhesive on the bottle and held it between both of hers, petting it like she might a wounded dog. Maybe it was her slight beer buzz talking, but she wanted to lean over and kiss the hurt out of his eyes.
“What about your parents? I suppose their goal is for you to join the country club as soon as possible,” he said.
“Why do you say that?” Defensiveness crept into her tone but only because he was right.
“The golf clubs?” His brows and one corner of his mouth lifted, lightening his expression.
“My parents live in their own little world. One I knew I wasn’t part of almost from the moment I was born.” Now it was her turn to fiddle, and since she held his hand, she played with his fingers.
“Why do you say that?”
“I was more interested in books than being the unparalleled social hostess my mother envisioned I’d be. And I’m not the great beauty she is.” The fact had stopped bothering her many years ago and become just that… a fact.
His eyes flared, and his jaw tightened. “That’s bullshit.”
While she couldn’t deny the thrill that zipped up her spine at the harshness of his words, she hadn’t been fishing for a compliment. “You’ve never met my mother. She’s gorgeous. I look like my dad. Which I’m totally okay with, by the way. You don’t have to—”
“Stop right there.” He took her chin with the hand she wasn’t holding and forced her to meet his assessing gaze. No one and nothing else existed in that moment. “You’re beautiful. And sexy. But even more than that, you’re interesting. Unusual.”
He made it sound like a compliment, so she took it that way. She rubbed her cheek against his hand and sent him a flirty look. “You don’t exactly qualify as normal, Chief Preston. And I would know, considering my line of work.”
The slow smile that spread over his face took her breath away. The rest of the night was filled with less serious talk about their favorite foods and music and hobbies. B
y the time they left, she only fought a pang of fear at her first step out of the tavern and into the night air. Of course, it helped that the arm around her was strong and protective. If this was an infatuation, she never wanted it to end.
Chapter Five
He was having fun. For the first time in a long time. Even with family worries hanging over his head. He tried to define the feeling, but the only word that came to mind was hope. She made him feel hopeful. And until the wellspring of emotion had bubbled through him, he hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d had any hope to cling to. Since before Katrina. Maybe even longer.
She made his troubles seem manageable. Not to mention she made him laugh. And he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her at the tavern. There could have been a brawl with punches thrown and glass flying, and he wouldn’t have noticed or cared. He felt like a man who’d been wandering the desert for too long. His years of celibacy hadn’t bothered him. Until her.
Or was she just convenient? His brother getting out of jail signaled the release of his debt. Thad’s penance was paid in full even though Clayton had called him an idiot for staying away from women. For all Thad knew, Clayton had taken Thad’s old work truck out and found a woman tonight and was making up for lost time. Why shouldn’t Thad do the same?
His hands trembled around the steering wheel as he pulled to a stop in front of her house. She was attracted to him. Even without their magnetic kiss earlier as evidence, she had flirted with him all night. Touched his arm, held his hand, leaned close enough that her scent masked the smokiness of the bar, smiled a smile that did something strange to his insides.
Still, it had been a long time, and he waited for her move. She ran her fingertips down his arm. A shiver passed through him, and the hairs along his forearm quivered.
“You want to come in for a few minutes? You know, check things out for me?” she asked.
Confusion hip-bumped his weak confidence to the side. Was she only asking him in because she was worried about another break-in? Had he reverted from date back into the police chief? By the time he’d made it around to her side, she had pushed the door open but remained on the edge of the seat.
Light Up the Night: A Cottonbloom Novel Page 5
