by Terri Reed
Chicken? Yes.
How had she gotten to this point?
Right—men. The one sitting beside her who had started this whole thing. His cohorts at the police department. The one in the backseat with soft gray eyes that she couldn’t seem to say no to…and the little one sleeping in the car seat. How in the world was she expected to fight against all that male persuasiveness?
She pulled into Ben’s driveway.
He unbuckled Caden from the car seat and lifted him into his arms. “Do you mind walking us in?”
Maria walked to the door with the boys—Julia was more than ready to get home and went straight to her own car.
Ben’s home had an old-fashioned look, with its large windows and hand-scraped, wide-planked wood floor. The furniture was comfortable, not fancy. He laid Caden on the couch and smoothed a soft blanket over him before turning to Maria. “I’m sorry, Maria.”
“For what? I knew pretty much from the beginning what I was getting into.” She walked to the mantel. He had pictures set up in colorful frames. A laughing Ben had his arm around a blonde with a full, pregnant belly. “Your wife?”
“The child psychologists think it’s important for Caden to have reminders of her around.” His eyes seemed to apologize.
He slid a hand across the small of her back and she eased away from him, setting the picture back on the mantel. “Ben, despite everything, I’m thankful I got to know you. Glad we were able to put the past behind us and become a sort of friends.”
He took a step closer, crowding her. “I thought we established last night that what we feel for each other is not friendship. Maria, I’ve never had anyone on my side—not the way you are.”
Her heart tumbled and landed somewhere in the vicinity of her feet. Maria, who wasn’t scared of anything, was terrified by what she was starting to feel for this man.
In her job, she walked through crime scenes every day. Blood, death—you name it, she could deal with it. But if anything happened to Ben, it would tear her to shreds. “Listen, I think you’re mistaking gratitude for something more than what it is. I helped you out of a tight spot. That’s all.”
He dropped his hand. “Okay, then. I think you’re wrong, but I can’t tell you what you’re feeling.”
His eyes were dark with hurt when the last thing she wanted to do was cause him more pain. But she wasn’t a part of this family. It wasn’t for her to choose. “Be careful, okay? Even though the guy’s in custody, we still need to go through everything carefully and make sure all the loose ends match up.”
He nodded and she left, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. She waited for the beep of the alarm as he armed it, then ran for Gabe’s van, throwing herself inside and bursting into tears.
“Maria?” The anxiety in Gabe’s voice would’ve been amusing if she’d been able to catch her breath.
“Just drive, Gabe.”
He did, while she completely lost her cool. Ten shuddering, sniveling minutes later, the tears began to slow. Her breath came in hitching gasps, like a baby who’d cried too long.
Gabe cleared his throat. “What—”
“Don’t.” She wiped her nose on a baby wipe she found in the glove compartment. “Just…don’t.”
A couple of rogue tears dripped off her jaw.
That did it. She was going to have to do something drastic to get even with the cops who set her up on this date. It wasn’t enough just to play a practical joke.
A new sob choked out despite her best effort to hold it in. Because she knew for a fact now.
She was in love with everyone’s favorite weatherman, Ben Storm.
Maria stared into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman she saw there. She was used to seeing herself with wild, springy curls and a dangerous look in her eyes. Instead, she saw a woman with hair that would now behave and sad eyes. She’d keep the hair.
But those sad eyes had to go.
Chloe knocked on the bathroom door. “You ready for me?”
“Could I ever be ready for you?” Four-inch heels were Chloe’s regular M.O. Maria wore four-inch heels only under duress, but she’d be willing to bet that the box on her bed held a pair at least that high.
Chloe had an overnight bag stuffed to the gills with girly stuff. She pulled the towel off Maria’s hair and sighed. “Girl, we’ve got some work to do.”
With the dryer blowing her hair into submission, Maria stared at the dress she would wear tonight.
The gown was a simple white organza column with gathers that fell from the bodice to the floor and one tiny row of rhinestones at the top. She felt like a princess wearing it—and she felt like an impostor. She wasn’t made to do this. She was meant for barking orders at crime scenes and drinking cop-shop coffee and trading war stories at the precinct.
This…whatever it was with Ben was an illusion. It had started out that way and it would end that way. It was a joke, a publicity stunt. It wasn’t real.
And drat it all if her eyes didn’t fill again at that thought. She’d been certain after the embarrassing scene with Gabe that she was completely cried out. She blinked back the tears, hoping Chloe hadn’t seen them.
The blow dryer clicked off. Chloe’s dark brown eyes narrowed in question, her red hair fuzzing a little in the humid bathroom. “Maria?”
Maria shook her head, not daring to trust her voice.
Chloe dropped onto the stool beside her. “It’s Ben, isn’t it?”
Maria sniffed. “How’d you know?”
“There’s a look we get on our face that’s totally recognizable to someone who’s been there before. And oh, honey, have I been there.” Her friend’s eyes filled with sympathetic tears.
Maria reached for a roll of toilet paper. “I was so mad at those guys for making me do this—and then before I knew it, I was charmed. It was all a setup, but I fell for him anyway.”
“People aren’t like science, Maria. There is no cutand-dried right answer.” Chloe picked up a comb and hairspray and stood, working Maria’s hair into long, looping curls with a curling iron as she talked. “I know this must seem crazy to you. You’re straight-up, Maria, like this giant beacon for the rest of us to follow—you always know where you’re going.”
Her hair in the mirror looked more like wet poodle than red carpet. Some beacon. She made a face.
“I’m serious. We all admire you because you’re so single-minded, so determined. And that’s a great quality to have—on a case. But sometimes, when you get to the fork in the road and you have to choose between adventure and logic, it’s okay to choose adventure.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maria squirted some cream into her hands and rubbed it in gentle patting motions onto her face, the way the lady at the salon had showed her. Logic was important.
Chloe pulled her hair. “Oops, sorry. Accident.”
Yeah, right.
Once again, Chloe dropped Maria’s hair and sat down beside her. This time, her voice was quiet. “If you trust in God—and I know you do—your life is in His hands. He’ll be beside you every step of the way, no matter what path you choose.”
Chloe stood and rolled another piece of Maria’s hair onto the curling iron. “Personally, I think the guys were right.”
Maria glared at her in the mirror.
“Not to set you up, I don’t mean that. But seriously, you need a life outside the police department. Maria, you don’t even have a Christmas tree.”
“I do, too.” Maria tried to turn her head, but Chloe jerked it back into place. “It’s in the kitchen.”
“That sad-looking crocheted thing? It looks like your grandmother’s pot holder.”
Maria tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it. “It was my grandmother’s pot holder. The Christmas one.”
“Hold still. I need to get these pins in the right…spot—there. What do you think?”
Her hair was light brown and shot with golden streaks. Blown out and tamed, it curled halfway down h
er back. “Wow. I think you’re a genius.”
“I know I am. I’ll see you on the purple carpet?” Chloe laughed.
Gabe’s wife, Sailor, had gone with purple instead of the traditional red since they were raising money for a local children’s charity whose colors were purple and white. “Of course. I wouldn’t back out on this now.”
Chloe picked up her bag of girl stuff and walked through Maria’s apartment toward the front door. “Oh, I can’t believe I almost forgot.”
She pulled a file folder from the bag. “I kept working on those names you gave me to track down. I finally got a definitive answer on them. The guy Ben beat out for his present job is on assignment in North Africa. I talked directly with his cameraman. He’s actually there.”
“And the assistant he fired? The one that got arrested?” Maria flipped through the file, but looked up at Chloe.
“Had an alibi for the day the chocolates were set up. He was at an out-of-state luncheon with about forty of his closest friends. I talked to three of them. They said there was no way he could’ve left and come back because his girlfriend would’ve missed him.” She shrugged. “It’s not airtight, but it also leaves room for someone else to be involved.”
Maria blew out a breath. “I was afraid of that.”
“Wanna share?” Chloe had her hand on the doorknob.
Maria tossed the file on the coffee table. “It’s just a feeling really, but Ben said something about his brother-in-law trying to get custody of Caden. It sounded off to me.”
Chloe nodded. “I’ll try to run down a picture and pass it out to the guys who will be on duty tonight. Maria, please be careful. This whole situation is downright weird.” She walked out the door, but instead of closing it, stuck her head back in. “Oh, and Maria—wear the high heels.”
SEVEN
Ben’s stomach was in knots as he pulled up at an old house on the waterfront where Maria rented a garage apartment. He’d left Caden at home with Julia, with the alarm on and instructions not to open the door to anyone.
At Maria’s door, Ben paused. He had so many conflicting emotions. He respected her feelings, her fear that his emotions were based on gratitude and not love, but how could he not love this fiercely smart, protective scientist? She got to him in a way that no one ever had.
Silently, he placed his hand on the door. Lord, I pray for Your will. Your guidance. Your hand over us tonight.
The door opened and Maria stood in the opening, light gilding her hair. He swallowed hard. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
A sweet smile curved her lips. “I’d have to say you clean up pretty well, too.”
He shook his head. “No, really, there’s no comparison.”
“Ready?” She picked up a black-velvet wrap and evening bag from the end of her brown-leather sofa.
“I asked the camera crew to meet us at the ball rather than film us here,” Ben said as she locked the door, “so once we get there, I’ll come around the car and help you out. The camera crew will be in front of us, filming for Weather 24. It’s all really chaotic, but it’ll be over fast.” He held her hand as she took the last of the steps, stealing another look at her as he held the car door open.
The transformation had been so dramatic. He barely recognized her as the woman with a tangle of wild curls wearing clunky boots and ugly sunglasses—the woman he’d met at the airport the first day. Yet he knew that at heart, this was still the woman with the smart mouth that he loved.
In contrast, the car ride was quiet—too quiet. Ben didn’t know what Maria was thinking, but his mind kept replaying that moment at his house. He’d been thinking that she seemed to fit in his home as if she’d always been there, and she’d been thinking that he was mistaking gratitude for love or something like that.
It stung, still.
Being with her was a little bittersweet under the circumstances, but he had to see this through. He pulled up at the hotel where the Christmas ball was being held. He looked at Maria. “Showtime.”
“Ben, wait. There’s something you need to know.”
His heart started an unsteady beat. Had she changed her mind about him?
“We’re not sure that the man they arrested in Destin is the one who’s been targeting you.” In the shadows of the car, her eyes were dark with worry. “Just be aware, okay?”
His throat tight, he nodded and pushed open the door of the car. They stepped out into madness. People shouting, cameras flashing. Ben curved his arm around Maria’s waist and smiled. And wondered—who in this crowd wanted to kill him?
Tension strung tight inside him, a taut wire ready to snap. Where did he find peace when everything inside him just wanted this to be over?
Was it too much to ask that he be allowed to be a dad to his son? This kind of glitz, as fun as it could be, wasn’t his gig. It wasn’t any kind of reality he wanted.
Maria’s spine stiffened under his hand. A few local reporters were shouting questions. One of them pushed through the crowd to get closer to them. Maria pulled him farther along the purple carpet as a uniformed cop stepped up beside the reporters, as well. Another reminder that even in Sea Breeze, he had to be aware.
Maria didn’t have to be reminded. Her eyes were constantly moving on the crowd. He was considering the promo push and sound bite. She was considering his safety.
Her reality was crime scenes and lab tests and he had thrown her into the fire of video cameras, appearances and interviews.
But she’d aced it.
Ben looked down at her and, sensing it, she glanced up at him from under those amazing lashes. He smiled.
Her eyes warmed.
The cameras flashed and amusement flared in her eyes. Perfect.
He waved from the top of the stairs.
And as suddenly as the chaos erupted around them, it ended with their entry into the hotel lobby. Ben took his first deep breath in fifteen minutes and beside him Maria did the same.
“Okay?”
She shook her head as if trying to grasp the reality of what had just happened. “Yeah, I think so. Wow. Do you do that a lot?”
“Only when I absolutely have to, which, thankfully, isn’t very often. My speed is more playing in the park with Caden than strolling down the red—I mean, purple—carpet. What about you? What do you do in your spare time?”
“What spare time?”
He laughed, but as they walked through the crowd to the doors of the ballroom, he leaned down toward her ear. “Kids are great for getting your priorities straight. Caden and I are planning to do lots of fishing and boating, hanging out at the beach. Maybe it’s time for you to work some spare time into your schedule.”
She bit down on her lip, her brown eyes full of more thoughts that she didn’t want to or couldn’t say as he held the door open for her.
The ballroom at the old hotel on the waterfront sparkled with dozens of Christmas trees. Designers had been commissioned to decorate the trees, which as part of the fundraiser would be auctioned off to the highest bidders.
As Maria and Ben reached the dance floor, the band began a slow, bluesy version of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Ben turned to Maria and held out an arm toward the dance floor. “Shall we?”
She hesitated, barely noticeable if he hadn’t been looking for it, and stepped into his arms. She fit one hand to his as he closed his other arm around her.
He tried not to imagine holding Maria in his arms for Christmases to come. He tried telling himself he’d only known her for a few days. He tried convincing himself she wasn’t a perfect fit for him. It didn’t work. His heart had already decided.
He’d like to take his heart and pitch it out the window. Life was complicated enough.
She sighed. He tilted her back so he could see her, and as the music changed, whirled her into a turn. Her eyes widened. Her evening bag flew around and hit him on the leg. “What’ve you got in there, rocks?”
Then he realized and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. �
�Please tell me you’ve got a gun in there.”
She lifted her hand to cup the back of his neck and pulled his head forward to whisper in his ear, an unguarded smile spreading across her face. “It’s a Glock—nine millimeter.”
He laughed, delighted.
A camera flashed.
He whirled her around again, away from the prying eyes of the reporter. He wanted to whisk her away to some private island where they could be alone, away from all the pressures, away from all the outside influences. But ultimately, they had to choose to be together despite all those things.
She had to choose. He had to give her time.
And hopefully time was something he would have plenty of after tonight. No more hopping planes every other day, barely home long enough to get over jet lag before taking off in the air again to another country no one’d ever heard of.
The music changed to a soft, sweet Christmas carol. He pulled her close and tried to breathe. How did this happen? This weekend had started as a final job, but somehow it had turned into the beginning of the rest of his life.
The music drifted. He leaned his head close to hers, letting her unique sweet-and-spicy scent float around him. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
He shrugged. “For seeing this through. I know it’s a strange thing to be followed around by cameras, and the stalker thing just made it even weirder.”
“You know what? I will never, ever admit this to the guys at the precinct, but I’m glad they submitted my name. You and Caden are something special.”
As the music wound to a close, the auction was announced. At their table, Gabe was already sitting, a baby girl bouncing on his lap. Ben laughed. “Your date’s kind of young, isn’t she, Gabe?”
“Yep.” The big cop smiled down at his baby. “And I’m gonna be her only date for a long, long time. Things still quiet at your house?”
“Seems so.”
On the stage, a beautiful blonde in an emerald-green evening gown took the stage. As she introduced herself as Sailor Sloan, Ben shot a look at Gabe, who shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I totally don’t deserve her, but I’m keeping her.”
