by Jenni Moen
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He stepped up behind me, and I turned to face him. He cupped my face in his hands. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be all right. I told you I’d do anything to keep you safe, and I meant it. Even breaking the law." His lips quirked up into a small smile and then he put his mouth on mine. He stole my breath and maybe the tiniest little piece of my heart with it.
We turned a corner, and Scott switched sides with me on the sidewalk so that he was the one closer to the seemingly endless stream of people walking in the opposite direction. It was a subtle and protective move he’d done twice already. As casual and relaxed as he’d tried to seem in our hotel room, I knew he was nervous, too.
We’d taken a cab to the entry to the pier, but from there, we had to go on foot. Scott was on high alert, observing each and every person we passed. He rubbed the back of his neck when we stopped at a traffic light. Unfortunately, I was taking my cues from him, and fear gripped me as we maneuvered through the crowd. The knot in my stomach grew with every step that took us farther from the hotel.
"Who knew there'd be so many people here on a Thursday night?" I asked.
He smiled and reached for my hand. "We’re almost there.”
I would be glad when we were. We weren't blending in with the tourists with their backpacks, cross-body bags, and strollers. The rain two days before had brought summer with it. This afternoon had been sunny and warm, and it seemed all of Chicago had had the same idea. Even the wind was cooperating, making it the perfect night for dining outside, taking a Ferris Wheel ride, or simply meandering through the vendors selling touristy trinkets and local art.
Scott certainly wasn't helping us disappear into the crowd. He'd set a pace more fitting for championship speed walking than a casual evening stroll.
We'd blown right past Shakespeare Theater, the gardens, and some of the more casual restaurants. Based on the outfits he'd selected for us, I suspected we were going to Riva, one of the fancier restaurants on the pier. At the rate we were going, we'd make it there in record time.
He surprised me in front of Riva, turning right instead of left and leading us to a docked yacht. It was sleek and white with dark windows, and I felt the first sliver of panic slice through my heart.
The captain standing beside the ramp on the dock tipped his hat at us. "Scott, my man. Good to see you." The captain had warm eyes and a wide, friendly smile, but I wasn’t quick to trust anyone these days.
Single file, we walked up the plank, the captain leading the way. On the deck, Scott wrapped an arm around my shoulders and whispered in my ear, “Are you okay?”
The deck was strung with round white lights that cast a romantic glow over us. But all I could see was the enclosed cabin beyond. The lights were on and a small table for two was already set for dinner. The thought of being stranded in that little room out on the water caused a shiver to run up my spine. “I’m just a little claustrophobic.”
“Oh, hell,” Scott said. “You said that on the train. I should’ve thought about that.”
“What’s the problem?” Captain John asked.
“I think I’m going to have to come up with a plan B,” Scott said.
I felt awful. I’d squashed any enthusiasm he’d had for Plan A.
He ran his hand up my back as he looked across the pier to the restaurant. “We’ll just go across to Riva for dinner.”
“Or we can move the table outside,” Captain John offered. “It’s a beautiful night for dining al fresco.”
Scott looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What do you think?”
I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder. “That would be perfect.”
Captain John headed for the brightly lit and horrifically enclosed interior of the boat, and I turned to face Scott. “Did you really rent this boat for us?” It was the natural conclusion since, other than Captain John, there didn’t seem to be another living, breathing soul on board.
He smiled the wickedly sweet smile that always seemed to hit me in the gut. “I thought it would be nice to get out without really getting out.” He held his hands up. “Voila.”
He’d gone to a tremendous amount of trouble, and I couldn’t imagine what this had cost him. Any normal woman would be swooning at the grand gesture—and I was too—but not before I’d almost wrecked everything. It wasn’t the first time I wished I didn’t have so many quirks and sensitivities.
“So you know the captain, I take it?” I asked, looking toward the cabin door where he’d disappeared.
Scott gently grasped my chin and turned it back to him. “Don’t think about it,” he said. “You don’t have to go in there at all.”
He bent down and gave me a light, chaste kiss before continuing. “I’ve known John for years. I used to work security detail as a side gig when I was just starting out on the force. I've actually worked events on this boat a few times. You’re in good hands with us. I promise.”
Captain John had returned with help, and Scott and I sat on a chaise lounge while we watched them move the table outdoors. A short woman with a big smile and her hair up in a tight bun brought us two glasses of wine. I sipped slowly and finally took in the awe-inspiring, romantic scene around me.
“How did you manage this?” I finally asked. “How is it possible that there’s not a party tonight?”
He smiled. “Well … I was trying to think of stuff for us to do where I could still keep you safe. On a whim, I called John to see if he had a boat available. I wasn’t expecting it to work out, but the wedding party who'd booked this boat for the night canceled." He made a face. "Jilted bride."
I mimicked it. "Oh, no. That’s terrible. But this must’ve cost you a fortune.”
He chuckled. “You’re worried about the money? Don’t be. I got a good deal. John’s a good friend. They even threw in dinner.”
I rolled my glass between my hands, nervous to say what I really wanted to. "It’s just … the boat, the clothes, the hotel … it's too much. I don't want you to go into financial ruin while wooing me. I already like you."
His chuckle from before was dwarfed by the belly laugh that rolled out of him. "Wooing you? God, you’re cute."
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Well, yeah. Wooing me. You know, working your smooth magic, trying to win my heart."
"Do I have smooth magic?" He smiled, dimples on full display, and my stomach twisted and dropped as if I was on a rollercoaster rather than a boat.
“Of course, you have smooth magic, and right now, you're smoothly trying to distract me with those amazing dimples of yours. But you should know, the dimples are enough." I gestured to the boat. “All this other stuff is unnecessary.”
"I know. Do you think I'd want you if this was what you were expecting? I did it because I wanted to. It was fun for me to be frivolous for once. And as for the clothes, I just really like that dress on you."
I gave him a small conciliatory smile. “I like the dress, too.”
“Mission accomplished then. We’re both happy.”
“You clean up pretty nice yourself, Detective.”
I might feel like a million bucks in the little black dress, but my God, he looked it. Heart-thudding, mind-blowing good. His new outfit looked made specifically for him, and for all I knew, maybe it had been. But I knew the truth. The clothes didn't make the man; the man made the clothes. And that had never been more true than with Scott. He could’ve been wearing nothing but his hand around mine, and I would have been happy.
Though Captain John and his crew might prefer we stay dressed.
I set my fork down on my plate and sighed happily. "That was delicious."
He smirked. "Not bad for catered wedding reception food."
I laughed. "Oh, my God. Was it really?"
"Yes. They insisted. The rest of the food went to some soup kitchen over in Riverdale."
"Wow. They're eating good over in Riverdale tonight." I picked up my fork again and inspected it for crumbs. "Cheesecake
is my very favorite."
He laughed. "Someday, I'll get Luke to make one for you. It's his specialty."
"He cooks?"
"If it hadn't been ingrained in us from birth to join the police force, he'd probably be a master chef somewhere. He's that good."
"That's interesting. And kind of sad, too." I knew well what it was like to have someone try to dictate your future for you. I picked up my glass of wine and took a long sip.
"Maybe you should go home with me next time. We can do a little cheesecake tour of New York City. Best in the world."
"Sounds like heaven," I said before realizing what I was saying.
There would be no trips to New York with Scott. No cheesecake tours of any kind. But I refused to think about it. I wouldn't let thoughts like that taint our perfect evening together. We had today and tomorrow and the next day. That would be enough.
I poured myself a refill and noticed he was watching with a strange expression on his face. It was only my third glass, but it would be my last.
"What's on tap for tomorrow?" I asked before he could make an issue of it.
He sat back in his chair, and a pleased grin spread across his face. "I booked a few more spa appointments for you tomorrow morning. After that, we have no plans."
"You're spoiling me," I said. "What's going to happen when I have to go back to the real world?"
"Who says we have to?" he kidded. "Seriously, I can see a huge difference in you after today. You're more relaxed. A little more pampering will be good for you. Think of it as research if it makes you feel better."
"Research?"
"Yeah, scoping out the competition. Getting into bed with the enemy. You know, just in case you decide to take over the hotel world someday."
I laughed. "Fat chance of that."
He tossed his napkin on the table and stood up. "Well, then just enjoy it." He held out a hand for me to take. "Now, let's dance."
All through dinner, music had played in the background. Piped in from some invisible speaker, it was just loud enough to be heard over the lap of the water against the boat. It intermingled with sounds from the pier.
I looked around as I took his hand. Silly since the captain and his small crew were keeping themselves mostly scarce. I had a feeling we wouldn’t see them again unless we needed something and went searching. There was no one to know or care if we danced under the night sky.
He led me to the center of the deck, wrapped an arm around me, and pulled me against him. The scent of him whirled around me. Despite the fact that we'd been sharing the same hotel toiletries for the past two days, it was incredibly masculine and uniquely him. I more than sort of loved it.
"Scott," I said over the soft melody. "Would you go to a party with me tomorrow night?"
He stiffened against me.
I hadn't decided I would go until that very minute. The idea terrified me, but I would have to face the music at some point. And it would be better to do it with Scott by my side than later by myself.
Tension rolled off him, but I’d expected the reaction.
"I don't think that’s a good idea. They haven't found Burris yet," he said. I was sure there hadn't been many moments that Burris hadn't been on his mind. “Besides,” he continued, “we were both nervous wrecks just getting to the boat tonight. A party will be a lot worse.”
I was surprised he’d admitted it, but maybe I shouldn’t have been. I’d noticed that Scott didn’t pull any punches. If there was one thing I could count on from him, it was honesty. It was why I wanted him beside me when I faced off with my father for the first time.
"You’ll keep me safe, and we don't have to stay long. I just need to make an appearance."
And possibly a scene.
"Who else will be there?" he wisely asked.
"My mother.” I tucked my head into his chest. “And my father," I added reluctantly.
He stopped moving, and his arms dropped to his sides. In the dark, I couldn’t see the intense glare of his eyes, but I could certainly feel it.
"Absolutely not."
"I need to do this, Scott,” I said gently. “It's a cause that's important to my mom … and to me. My father told me I would be there or else, and you saw what happens when I don’t follow orders."
He didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he pulled me back into his arms and began to sway again. I let him mull it over, even though I’d already made up my mind. I was going with or without him. Maybe he knew that, or maybe he worked through the details in his head because after a few minutes, he let out a conciliatory sigh.
His lips brushed across my forehead. "Fine, but we do it my way. We'll have a security detail with us."
"Where will you get someone for that?"
"I know people," he said.
“Of course, you do.” I should’ve known better than to ask. Of course, he knew people. People who captained boats. People who ran fingerprints. People who performed security detail. I was beginning to see that Scott had connections in Chicago. The thought that he would soon have those same connections in Highland Park filled me with dread.
"I’ll ask my friend, Trevor, to do it. If he can’t, he’ll find someone for us.”
He was being uncharacteristically serious, and I blamed myself. I’d put him into full cop mode. The rest of our evening was probably ruined simply because I hadn’t waited a day to bring up the benefit. But it was tomorrow night, and I hadn’t wanted to spring it on him.
He spun me in a circle, and I caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. I sighed in relief and pushed the countdown out of my mind.
I let go of him and twirled myself over to the table where we’d abandoned our wine glasses. I picked mine up and crossed to a large chaise lounge, where I plopped down, feeling a bit dizzy after all of the spinning. Some of the wine sloshed over the side of my glass and streamed across my hand.
“Well, at least let me pay for it.” Needing security to go to a party I’d been going to for years felt odd, but it was my problem, not his.
“No way. You will never go anywhere with me and pay for a thing." The man had an excessive amount of pride. I chewed the inside of my cheek while I considered whether it was a battle I wanted to fight since I’d just gotten him to agree to the party. In the grand scheme of things, it was probably only a drop in the bucket after everything else he'd done for me.
"You're a tiny bit old-fashioned, you know?" I asked.
"About some things. Is that why you asked what we were doing tomorrow? Because of the party?" He sat down beside me and stretched out next to me.
"Actually, no. I thought that maybe we could hit that bookstore, after all. I'm hoping to find a copy of the screenplay for An Affair to Remember.”
"You do realize it's another whirlwind romance, right? I think they fall in love within minutes, not days."
I shrugged. "I've developed something of a fascination with these types of stories. An obsession really."
"Becoming a believer, are you?" he asked.
I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore. Everything I thought I knew had been tested during the past week.
"It has a tragic ending," I said before draining my wine glass and setting it on the ground beside the chair.
He turned on his side. “I disagree. What better love conquers all ending is there than An Affair to Remember? Not even debilitating injuries and misplaced martyrdom stood in their way."
I grinned. I absolutely loved that his grandmother had forced him to watch old movies when he was a kid, and we could have these conversations. No matter the subject matter, talking with Scott was always effortless. He seemed to know a little something about everything.
“I’ll take you to the bookstore as soon as I get back into town tomorrow.” He went on to say something more, but I'd stopped listening.
Back in town.
Back in town meant he was leaving town. The thought of him leaving me for even a few hours frightened me more than I expected.
How could
someone come into your life by sheer chance, blow through it on a whirlwind, and leave such a colossal wake behind? But he had. Oh, how he had. Somehow, I’d slipped and let him become my safe place. When my heart imploded in a few days, it would be no one's fault but my own.
"Back into town?” I said, interrupting him. “Where are you going?"
"While you're at the spa tomorrow morning, I'm going to run over to Highland Park for just a little bit.” His voice sounded like it was coming at me through a long tunnel. "I need to go by the precinct to sign some paperwork and pick up my badge and firearm. It won't take long."
I gripped the cushion of the chair. "Do you really have to? Maybe if you tell them you're still out of town, they'll understand and let you take care of all of that on Monday." My voice was brittle, showing all of the cracks I usually tried to hide.
Get a grip, I commanded.
He chuckled, as if there was something funny about this.
"The city hardly counts as out of town. Besides, you'll be tied up for several hours tomorrow morning. I need to make sure I get off on the right foot. I’ll be back before you're done at the spa."
He didn’t understand. It wasn’t about him leaving me alone. I could be alone. I was used to being alone. It was about where he was going, but I couldn’t explain it to him. Doing so would mean giving him up now, and I needed him.
You do not. You’ve been on your own for years, my common sense barked at me.
That voice. Sometimes, I hated it.
I swung my legs down to the deck. My wine glass popped and crashed against the deck floor.
Scott was standing beside me in an instant. "Don't move." He lifted each of my feet and inspected them one at a time. His fingers brushed over the peep-toe opening of my shoes, wiping away any glass. "I think you're okay."
"I'm fine. Just clumsy.” I could hear our conversation, but I was a cloud floating above. One of the Christmas bulbs swinging in the wind.
You are okay.
But I wasn't. Not at all. He'd promised me we had until Sunday. I wanted each one of those three days.
