Hot Cop Next Door: A Second Chance Romance

by Brooke Noelle

  Tom smiled. “She did, and she liked what she heard. I’d like to get you in the studio and lay down a track. It would be one track for now, and we’ll see how we work together,” Tom said, not committing to anything, which I thought was smart.

  The singer kept staring at me, like he knew me or wanted to know me, which was kind of creeping me out. I tried to steel myself to the looks that I had a feeling would be coming my way the more I worked with aspiring artists. I was bound to run into some of those arrogant guys who thought I should swoon in their presence.

  “I’m sorry. I was a little starstruck and didn’t catch your name,” I said to him, hoping to compliment him and put him off guard.

  He smiled. “Thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever been referred to as a star. My name is Jerry Smith, and I’m the leader of this ragtag outfit we like to call the Dealing Jacks.”

  I nodded. “Interesting name. How’d you come up with it?” I asked, his name ringing a bell somewhere in my head, but I was too focused on my job to pay any real attention.

  He laughed. “My buddy here was a dealer for a long time.”

  “A dealer?” I asked, nervously looking at Tom.

  “Blackjack dealer at a casino in Atlantic City. These other two, they’ve also been dealers at some point, and, well, I’m a jack of all trades,” he said with a grin that suddenly made me a little uncomfortable.

  Seeing the men in the bright light of day was a lot different than seeing them in a dim bar. In the bar, they fit. They looked like musicians and had that vibe to them that teased and tantalized. In this small room, they looked like they were all waiting to meet with their parole officers. It was strange how the setting could change the image of a person.

  “Do you have a day job so to speak?” I asked with my most charming smile.

  Jerry looked at the other men and shrugged. “Not all the time. We work when we need to. We prefer to gig instead.”

  “You only play at the one bar?” I pressed.

  He grinned, and I felt like I had caught him in a lie but wasn’t sure what. “Mostly. We play around the city—places a girl like you wouldn’t know about.”

  “You never know,” I shot back. “I found you.”

  He winked. “That you did, sweetheart. That you did,” he said, slowly nodding his head up and down.

  Tom took over the meeting, and I sat back and listened and watched. I walked the guys out and shook each of their hands, but Jerry insisted on hugging me. He said I was his best friend in the world at the moment and a handshake wasn’t nearly enough.

  I laughed but couldn’t shake the icky feeling the guy gave me. It was one of those creeper moments when I would normally cross the street to avoid having to make eye contact with a guy. I shook off the feeling and headed back inside to finish my shift for the day. All day, something kept niggling at the back of my mind. It was annoying and distracting at the same time.

  When I pulled onto my street, Cameron’s big truck caught my eye. It was so familiar, yet so unfamiliar. It felt like forever since I had see that sign of comfort parked alongside the road.

  When I got out of the car, I spotted him talking to a man in a shirt and tie who was holding a clipboard. I had a feeling it was the insurance adjustor. I shook my head, thinking about all the furnishings and clothes and all the personal items Cameron would have to try to account for to be reimbursed.

  I gave a small, polite wave when he looked at me before heading inside.

  “Holy shit!” I said into my empty living room.

  The name finally hit me. Jerry Smith was the name of the man who had burned down Cameron’s house! There was no way they could be one and the same man. It had to be one of those freak coincidences. Jerry and Smith were very common. It was just strange to have met a man by the same name so soon after the fire.

  I shook my head. “Crazy small world,” I muttered before heading to the kitchen to find something to eat.

  It wasn’t long before I heard a knock on the door. I had a feeling it was Cameron and wasn’t surprised to see him standing there when I opened it.

  “Hi,” I said, feeling a little weird after the way our last meeting had ended.

  “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice revealing the strain he was under.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I told him curtly.

  He sighed. “Savannah, please. I don’t want us to stop being friends. We may not be neighbors, but I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to talk to you.”

  Hearing the words, I felt a bit childish, but it was exactly how I felt. Honesty was supposed to be the best policy, right?

  He cocked his head to the side. “Forever?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He shook his head. “Fine. If that’s how you want to be, I’m not going to fucking grovel at your feet. I apologized. I’m not going to keep saying I’m sorry for what I thought was best for my daughter.”

  I didn’t say anything. He turned on his heel and walked away. I watched him go, feeling a little guilty but not wanting to open myself to get hurt again. Whenever the man was around, I wanted to be near him, like naked near. I didn’t want to be his booty call, and I had to be stern and keep him away or I was liable to jump him right there in the living room and get all caught up in something that could never be.

  With my appetite lost, I flopped down on the couch and wallowed in self-pity. The constant beep every minute reminded me of the dinner I had popped in the microwave but didn’t want to eat anymore.

  I should have told him about the band leader. It could have been a lead, or it could have been nothing at all. Every time the man was around, I lost my train of thought. I had no idea what I was going to do about it. I should have gone with my gut instinct when I first met him and stayed away. I had been fresh on the rebound after Asher and hadn’t been ready for a relationship. I wasn’t the kind of girl who could do the casual sex thing. Well, maybe I could have been, but there was something about Cameron that made me want more.

  “Damn you. This is all your damn fault!”

  I ended up going to bed way early. I hoped it would get my mind off Cameron. I was sick of thinking about him and longing for him. I came up with a plan to have Emma come over for the weekend. We could go out, and I could find another man to sink my claws into. This time, I would pick a real one-nighter that wouldn’t leave me longing for something more.

  How hard could that be in a city like Nashville?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Cameron

  Morning coffee chats with Mom were becoming our thing. I didn’t actually mind. It was a quick chat, and then I went to work. I didn’t have to hang out with her all day. She got the chance to do her thing, and I did mine. It was the long evenings that were a bit of a drag. I hated hanging out with them every night. I mean, it wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly relaxing.

  “Want to talk about it yet?” she asked gently.

  I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m here when you’re ready.”

  I took a sip from my coffee cup and felt the weight of the world on my heart. I couldn’t talk to Adam about anything this serious. We were great friends, but I wasn’t the kind of guy who shared my feelings all that well, which was why I was sitting here in complete misery now.

  “I think I screwed up,” I said on a long breath.

  “With Savannah?” she asked, knowing me too well.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Do you care for her?”

  I nodded again. “I do. Is that wrong?”

  “Heavens no!”

  “But, Becca and Lily … I mean, shouldn’t I wait longer?”

  “Cam, you’ve waited three very long years. How long do you think you have to wait?”

  I shook my head. My throat hurt with the emotions that were bubbling up inside me. “I don’t know. I thought I would never care about another woman. I didn’t want
to care about anyone else after Becca,” I admitted.

  “Son, what you went through is something a person your age should never have to deal with. You loved her. Becca knew that. Lily knows you loved her mom. There are no rules. No one can tell you when you’ve grieved enough. However, there is also no rule that says you stop living. You don’t have to live alone forever. I can’t imagine how it feels to be alone. You’re young, handsome, and a great father. Don’t keep yourself hidden away because you think you should.” She reached out and put her hand on mine.

  I nodded, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak.

  “You need to make things right with Savannah before it’s too late,” she pushed. “Don’t miss out on the opportunity to love and be loved.”

  “I’ve never…” I stopped talking, swallowing the lump. “I’ve never felt like this about another woman besides Becca. It feels like I’m cheating on her. You know me, Mom. I would never cheat on a woman.”

  She smiled and nodded. “That makes me very happy, and I know you wouldn’t. It isn’t cheating. You can still hold love in your heart for Becca, but that doesn’t mean you can’t love again. Becca is gone. You can’t spend the rest of your life keeping vows to a woman who is no longer here.”

  I choked back tears and wiped my face with the heel of my hand. “Thanks, Mom. I think I needed to hear it was okay. I’m going to try like hell to make things right with Savannah. Hell, I don’t even know if she’s into me.”

  Mom chuckled. “She’s into you—very into you—and I think she’s great. Don’t let her get away.”

  I stood, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mom. I’m sorry I’ve been such a moody guy the past week.”

  She smiled and looked up at me. “I’m glad I could help.”

  I left the house to take Lily to school with renewed strength. I felt a lot like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I had been close to breaking. Close but no cigar, life. I was going to brush myself off and keep on ticking.

  “Daddy, are we going to go to Savannah’s house ever again?” Lily asked as I pulled up for the drop-off.

  I took a deep breath. “I hope so, sweetie. I really hope so.”

  That seemed to satisfy her, and she bounced her way into the school. I loved how resilient she was. I wished I had a fraction of that resiliency.

  When I got to work, I didn’t hide my disappointment in learning there were no new leads on my case. Jerry Smith could have been anybody. The DEA had hit a dead end with the Cooker investigation as well. The day had started out so well but had taken a turn for the boring. That was okay, I told myself. Boring was good.

  It was a mundane day on patrol. I doled out a variety of traffic violations. It was a rather slow day in Nashville, which was rare. I wasn’t going to complain. My head wasn’t really in the game. It was on Savannah and how I could smooth things over with her and try to start a real relationship.

  It was about twenty minutes before my shift was over that my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of the holder in my car and immediately recognized Savannah’s number.

  “Hello?” I asked, a little worried there was something wrong. I couldn’t imagine any other reason she would call me after telling me she didn’t want to talk to me.

  “Can you meet?” she blurted out.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, finding myself always concerned for her well-being.

  “I’m fine. I need to talk to you. Are you off work soon?”

  “Yes. Let me call my mom and see if she’s okay with Lily for a while.” I realized it was stupid to ask considering Lily was going to be there regardless. “Where would you like to meet?”

  “Same place as before?”

  “Works for me. I’ll see you in thirty,” I said, eager to get my chance to make things right with her.

  Once I hung up the phone, I replayed the conversation in my head. She hadn’t sounded like herself. She’d said she was okay, but what if she wasn’t?

  I headed for the station, praying dispatch wouldn’t send me on a call, and quickly did my paperwork and clocked out at four o’clock on the dot. I jumped into my truck, stripped off my uniform shirt, wearing just my plain white tee and uniform pants, and headed for the coffee shop.

  She got there about five minutes after I did. I had ordered us a couple lattes and pastries. I was starving and needed a little sugar pick-me-up and figured she could too after work.

  “I’m sorry I was so short yesterday,” she said, sitting down. “I’m confusing my emotions. I’m mad at you because you hurt me. I know why you did what you did, and I don’t hold that against you at all. I think it’s sweet and admirable.”

  I smiled, which I immediately knew by the look on her face was the wrong response.

  “I’m smiling because I’m happy you want to talk to me. I’ve wanted to apologize the right way but didn’t know how. I don’t blame you. I’m not mad at you at all. I was scared, and I took it out on you. You were right, I shouldn’t have. I want to be friends, Savannah. I want to start over and see what this could be. Obviously, things are a little tough right now, but I still want to try to see you.”

  “I want to see you as well. And Lily if that’s okay?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  I grinned. “Lily absolutely wants to see you. She asks me about you every day. Maybe we could set something up for Thursday when I’m off?”

  “Okay, but before we get to that, I need to tell you something else,” she said in a rush.

  It wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for, but I would take it.

  “What’s up?”

  “Do you remember that band that was playing at the bar when Asher found us? The Southern rock one?”

  I nodded. “Vaguely. I know you liked them, but I didn’t pay them a lot of attention.”

  “Okay, well, I went back and talked to the leader and got them to come to the studio for a sit-down. The studio manager told me to find an act and work with them so he could see what kind of work I produce. We did a recording for a single today.”

  “Congratulations!”

  She shook her head with frustration. “No, no. That’s not what I was getting at. The leader of the band—his name is Jerry Smith.”

  I felt everything fall into slow motion. “Jerry Smith?” I repeated the name, making sure I had heard her correctly.

  She nodded vigorously. “Yes! His group name is the Dealing Jacks. We recorded a song today that was a satire on cooking meth. At first I thought it was a joke. It was nothing like I heard them play in the bar that night, but the way Jerry kept looking at me told me something was off.”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it. “He was in the studio with you?” My voice was pitched a little too high as my mind whirred over the details.

  “Yes! The name of the song is ‘The Cooker.’ It was really weird. The lyrics focused on cooking meth and how fun and easy it was to do it right under the noses of law enforcement. Tom, the head producer—he didn’t really care for the song,” she rambled on.

  It was as if a lightbulb had been lit directly over my head. It was no coincidence.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed out.

  “What does that mean?” she asked. “I mean, I know Jerry Smith is the guy who burned your house down, but do you think it could be the same person?”

  I shrugged a shoulder, not wanting to alarm her. “I don’t know.”

  “I should have told you yesterday. I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. But today, well, those lyrics, they were really eerie. It was like they were telling a story and predicting the future at the same time. I mean, I’ve heard Southern rock and most of the artists are not fond of the police, but these guys, they really don’t like cops.”

  “What were the lyrics?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath. “One of the lines was something about torching the pig’s house.”

  I stood up, barely hearing her as I grabbed my coffee. “I need to get back to the station.”

 
“Is it him?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  “He’s supposed to be back at the studio tomorrow. Tom asked them to bring in a different track.”

  “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to run out on you, but I have to go. Can I call you later?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Yes. Please do.”

  I smiled in return and rushed out the door. I needed to find out everything I could about this guy. As I drove back to the station, I did my best to remember that night. I remembered dancing with Savannah and the singer pointing us out. At the time, it had seemed like no big deal. I tried to remember his face but came up empty. I had been focused on Savannah, and then Asher had shown up.

  The guys onstage had not been something I’d thought twice about—until now. I hated that I had been that close to the man and didn’t know who he was. I had no idea how he knew me or had decided it was my house he should burn, but I damn sure was going to ask him when I slapped the cuffs on his wrist.

  I hated that Savannah had been talking with the guy and actually spending time with him. I had a feeling that wasn’t an accident either. I was worried about Savannah. I needed to bust this guy before he could do anything to her.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Savannah

  I was scared and anxious to see if the band would show up for their recording session. Tom had been very diplomatic when he rejected their single, and they had all seemed okay with his request to do something different, but artists could be finicky.

  Tanya buzzed my line.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “The band just got here,” she whispered into the phone. “Tom’s taking them back.”

  “Thanks!”

  The entire studio was aware of what had happened yesterday. Cesar and Tom weren’t convinced they would show but had held their slot for the studio anyway. I quickly headed down the hall and joined them all in the studio.

  Jerry was seated on the green velvet couch, making himself completely at home while Tom looked over the lyrics of the song they wanted to record. I looked over at Jerry and felt a little queasy. The man was a snake. I should have seen it before. Maybe I was only seeing it now because of the name and the connection to Cameron. I despised the man, and I didn’t even know if it was him. I felt desperately protective over Cameron and his little girl. If the slime ball currently taking up residence on the couch was truly the man responsible for hurting Cameron, he would pay. Of that I was sure.