Dare to Love

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “According to your records, you’re an exemplary police officer, but not everyone is cut out to be a DARE officer. It takes a special kind of man, one who’s not afraid to touch a teddy bear, to succeed in the DARE program. Now, I’m not asking you to withdraw from the program, I’m strongly advising that you do so.”

  She turned to leave, but Doug didn’t intend to let her get in the last word. He knew damn well that had it been in her power to do so, she’d have just kicked him out of the program herself. Without ever knowing why he’d fallen asleep during her session, without any idea of the plans he had for his life—plans that hinged upon his service in the DARE program—she was ready to get rid of him. Just like that. He’d been judged and found wanting.

  So what else was new?

  He waited until her hand was on the doorknob. “Officer Parker?”

  She turned around, looking, Doug thought, a little hopeful. “Yes?”

  Her attitude ticked him off again.

  “I was just wondering—is your stuffed toy good in bed, too?”

  His words were like a gunshot in the silent room. He knew they were crude, but he didn’t take them back. It was the kind of thing she expected from a man like him.

  Andrea Parker opened the door and walked out without another word.

  Doug was left with the startling vision of pink color tingeing her cheeks. And the bitter taste of shame in his mouth.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “ONE WHO REFRAINS from sexual, inappropriate or insensitive remarks.” Andrea read the line aloud, as if speaking the words of policy ;ns90-03 somehow gave them the power to solve her problem. Fuming she threw down the DARE policy and procedures manual and paced across her room in the Hetherington Hotel in downtown Columbus. The man didn’t belong in the DARE program—it said so right there. He didn’t meet the criteria of a prospective DARE candidate. Not only was he the coldest bastard she’d ever met, he was crude, too.

  So what was she going to do about it? she asked her reflection in the regulation mirror mounted next to the regulation television.

  Convince him to leave, that’s what, she answered herself, turning her back on her silent nemesis to continue pacing the generic, earth-toned room. He had to resign from the program. There was no other option. The kids in the DARE program were all she had left. She wasn’t going to risk their lives by sending Dirty Harry to their den. She just wasn’t.

  But what if he continues to refuse to resign?

  The familiar churning started in Andrea’s stomach again as she stopped to peer out her eighth-floor window. She had always liked butterflies, had always thought they were beautiful, fragile, harmless little creatures, until four years ago when an unfriendly team of them had taken up residence in her abdomen.

  From her vantage point, she looked out over the lights of downtown Columbus, but she didn’t see the collage of twinkling colors in front of her. She had to do something. She had to take control of the Avery situation once and for all. Control was the only thing that would calm her butterflies.

  Andrea had no idea how or why Douglas Avery had been admitted to the DARE training program in the first place, but she knew that no screening system was perfect. He was proof of that fact. Somehow he’d managed to get through the rigorous DARE screening, and now it was her job to make certain he didn’t slip through any more cracks.

  If he wouldn’t leave the program willingly, she’d take matters into her own hands. She still had two weeks before Doug Avery would be let loose in a classroom. With the little she’d seen of him so far, she didn’t think it would be too hard to collect enough evidence against him to enable her to go to her superior and request the man’s dismissal. She just had to keep a close watch on every move he made, and Officer Douglas Avery would very likely hang himself.

  Andrea turned from the window, her stomach a little more settled, and crossed to her briefcase. Removing a blank ledger book, she took out a pen, settled at the small table beneath the window and wrote, Officer Avery, Douglas.

  Two pages later, she slid the ledger back into her briefcase, pulled on her nightshirt and brushed her teeth. Padding back to the kingsize bed, she slipped beneath the covers, satisfied that the children were safe once again—Doug Avery would never step foot inside a sixth-grade classroom.

  She was almost asleep, drifting off with a satisfied sigh, when the phone rang. With a strangled groan she looked at the clock and then turned her back, piling pillows on top of her head to muffle the persistent ringing. She’d been so preoccupied with Doug Avery before she’d gone to bed that she hadn’t even noticed the remarkable silence while she’d been blessed with it.

  Sixteen...seventeen...eighteen. She counted the rings. They weren’t going to go away. With a muttered curse, she threw off the pillows and reached for the phone. If she didn’t answer it now, it would just ring again in about an hour, and every hour after that, as well. She knew. She’d ignored the summons before. One way or the other her caller was going to get her.

  “Hello, Ma,” she said. The receiver felt cool against her heated skin.

  “How’d you know it was me?” Her mother’s voice always reminded Andrea of a Saint Bernard—huge but harmless. Gloria Parker had the temperament of her French-Italian ancestry. She yelled a lot, always spoke her mind, and loved intensely. Her loyalty was as much a given as her nagging. And Andrea loved her dearly.

  She pulled the covers up to her chin, dragging the phone cord with her as she resigned herself to the conversation she knew was about to take place.

  “You always call after opening session,” she said. And because she understood the main reason why her mother called—out of love for her daughter—Andrea always answered her phone. It was her mother’s secondary reason for calling that had her pulling her hair out.

  “So, how’d it go?” Gloria showed no outward scars from the past four years, only a neurotic need to hear about each new battalion that joined the fight against drugs.

  “Good. There’s a lot of potential here.”

  “They all going to be able to love the kids?”

  Andrea twirled the phone cord around her index finger beneath the covers. She had a sudden vision of Doug Avery’s dark features, his shadow of a beard, his piercing black eyes, but she blinked it away. That problem was already being dealt with. “No one’s going out that can’t, Ma. You have my word on it.”

  “You really feel like they’re right for the job?”

  “I really do, Ma. One of them started a program for latchkey kids in Cleveland. He’s been running it for years and it just keeps getting bigger.” Andrea related what she’d read in Sven’s file earlier.

  “He runs it himself? He doesn’t just hire someone else to do it for him?”

  “He has volunteer staff, but apparently no one spends as much time with the kids as he does.”

  Gloria harrumphed in satisfaction. “You settled into your room okay? You got the safety bolt locked?”

  “Yes, Ma.” Andrea didn’t even have to check. She was a cop. She always kept herself safe.

  “You hung up your clothes so you don’t have to call down for an iron? You know it always takes forever to get an iron.”

  “Yes, Ma. My clothes are all hung.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Andrea. I’m only trying to help.”

  “I know, Ma. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little tired. The room really is great. And the guys are going to be fine, too. I already introduced them to DARE Bear.”

  “They didn’t ignore him, did they?”

  Andrea remembered the stuffed toy flying through the air, landing on the floor with a dull thud.

  “Nope.”

  “So, any of ‘em single?”

  Andrea pushed back the covers and sat up, needing air more than she needed to hide from her mother. It wasn’t working, anyway. Gloria Parker was the one thing in Andrea’s life that she still hadn’t figured out how to control. Probably because her mom was more right about some things than Andrea w
anted to admit.

  “Yes.”

  She cringed when she heard her mother’s satisfied harrumph. She could almost hear her mother’s blood begin to pump in anticipation, could almost feel the palpitations of the older woman’s heart.

  “So...” Gloria drew the word out to four syllables.

  “So what, Ma? They aren’t married. Did you ever stop to think that maybe it’s ‘cause they don’t want to be?”

  “Then it’s up to you to change their minds, Andrea.”

  “All three of them, Ma?” Andrea asked, a grin spreading across her face.

  “Now, Andrea Lee Parker, don’t you get smart with me.” Her mother’s tone was working up to battle pitch.

  “I’m sorry, Ma. But did you ever stop to think that I don’t care if they’re not married? What if I don’t like any of them? You don’t even know their names, and you’re ready for me to bear their children. They could all be fifty years old and bald, for all you know.” She could feel the tiny lines of frustration forming across her brow even as she spoke. By the time her mother was done with her she’d have so many lines on her face she’d look fifty years old herself.

  “You’re twenty-nine, Andrea. You can’t afford to be so choosy. If you don’t hurry up and find a husband, you’re going to end up an old maid.”

  “I’ve already had a husband, Ma, remember?”

  Gloria snorted loudly, expressively. “That sorry excuse for a man didn’t deserve you, Andrea. He didn’t know what a treasure he had. And you’re a bigger fool than I thought if you let him keep you from finding a man to father my grandchildren.”

  Andrea smiled at the double-edged compliment, warmed in spite of herself by her mother’s fierce loyalty, and maybe even by the older woman’s tenacity. Deep down, she understood that her mother was just trying to help her find forgiveness.

  “I’ve got time, Ma,” she said, knowing that all the time in the world would never be enough to convince her to marry again. She always seemed to let down the people she loved.

  “I can hear your clock ticking from here, Andrea Lee. It’s not safe to have a first baby much past your early thirties.”

  Andrea sighed, refusing to think about the babies she would never have—the babies she had once wanted more than anything else in life. She hadn’t even been able to handle being a big sister. She wasn’t going to risk failing at motherhood, too. “Times have changed, Ma. Women are having babies, even first ones, in their forties.”

  “You are not going to make me wait another ten years to have babies to play with, young lady. Do you want to have to pull me up off the floor every time I get down to tickle their tummies?”

  Andrea thought of her mother’s considerable girth and grinned in spite of herself. Only Gloria could be tickling infants that didn’t even exist.

  “There’s always artificial insemina—”

  “Andrea! That’s enough. A baby needs a father. It’s your duty as its mother to provide it with one.”

  Andrea gave up with a resigned chuckle. Now she was failing the baby before it even existed. See, she was no good with those she loved. And why was it that she could hold her own with six cops at a time, yet still couldn’t win a single verbal skirmish with her mother?

  “I’ll keep my eyes open for potential daddy material, Ma. Now how’s Scotty?”

  “He’s just fine. Found himself a girlfriend. At least there’s one child of mine who knows his duty.”

  Andrea laughed out loud, the first genuine amusement she’d felt since stepping into the suite next door earlier that evening. “Ma, he’s only thirteen. You’re not starting on him already, are you?”

  “I’m not starting on anybody, Andrea Lee. I only want for you what you always wanted for yourself. One of us has to keep trying.” Her mother’s tone was becoming strident again.

  “I said I’d keep my eyes open, Ma, and I will,” she said, crossing her fingers. Someday she’d convince herself that her mother was wrong about things, that she could be happy without a family of her own. And then she’d convince Gloria.

  “Just make sure you do more than look when the time comes.” the warning in her mother’s tone of voice was clear.

  Again a vision of Doug Avery flashed before Andrea’s eyes. She thought of her initial reaction to the man, of her urge to accept the challenge he’d offered, of the brief instant of stunning desire she’d felt.

  “Tell Scotty I love him.”

  “I always tell him. Don’t you think it’s time you tried to tell him again yourself?”

  Andrea stared at the beige-colored wall in front of her. “You heard his counselor, Ma. It’s best to let him come around in his own time.”

  “And you think some stranger knows him better than his own mother? Scotty’s ashamed, Andrea. I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

  “He hates me, Ma. He told me so himself. You’re just going to have to accept that this is one thing you can’t force.”

  “I’ll talk to him.” Her mother’s determination carried over the several miles of telephone wire.

  Andrea focused on a tiny crack in the wall. “Don’t, Ma. Let him be. This is between me and him.”

  “Andrea...”

  “I mean it, Ma. I’ll never forgive you if you start badgering him about this. He’s been through enough.”

  A resigned sigh traveled across the line. “I’ll leave it for now, Andrea, but I’m telling you you’re wrong.”

  Andrea’s gaze followed the crack up to the ceiling. “I know.”

  “You get some sleep now, Andrea. If you go to breakfast with circles under your eyes, you’ll scare off all three of my potential sons-in-law before I even have a chance to meet them.”

  Andrea smiled and sank back against the pillows. “Yes, Ma.” Someday she’d argue with her mother again, when she felt confident enough to win. First she had to stop believing that Gloria was the one person she couldn’t fool.

  She settled the phone back into its cradle with a sigh, wondering if the Monday she had just had was any indication of the two weeks to come. Sometimes being in control was as hard to deal with as losing it.

  She lay on her back, then turned over onto her stomach, cradling a couple of pillows beneath her head. But the bed was so much bigger than hers. And the more she thought about all the empty space beside her, the more alone she felt.

  Scotty’s laughing blue eyes flashed beneath her closed eyelids, gazing up at her adoringly, trustingly. Andrea sat up. This was the time to get dressed, go outside and take a walk. Walking always seemed to help.

  But she wasn’t at home. She was stuck in the middle of downtown Columbus, in a hotel swarming with her peers. She didn’t doubt that the Hetherington Hotel’s many lounges were filled with her fellow DARE officers, the teams of trainees and their off-color jokes. But Andrea was not in the mood for jokes. And the way she was feeling, she didn’t want to run the risk of bumping into any of her fellow police officers in the elevators. Which meant she was stuck right where she was.

  She got up to take an aspirin, passing DARE Bear as she trudged back to the huge, empty bed. He was grinning at her from his perch on top of the silent television, and she reached out, wanting to grab him, cuddle him against her, take him back with her to share her lonely bed. But she continued on without stopping and lay down alone, Doug Avery’s parting remark stinging her ears: “Is your stuffed toy good in bed, too?”

  * * *

  “DAMN!” Doug glanced at his watch as he listened—again—to the annoying busy signal, and hung up the phone with a little more force than was necessary. Opening the fly of his jeans so he could tuck in his clean T-shirt, he swore again. He had hoped to get through to the woman before he had to see her again, and breakfast was due to start in less than sixty seconds.

  If he didn’t go now, he’d be late, and he wasn’t about to give Ms. Andrea Parker any more reason to look down her perfect nose at him—even though, judging by her busy telephone, she was going to be late herself. The apolo
gy for his off-color remark would just have to wait, maybe indefinitely.

  He was just pulling out one of the two vacant chairs left at the round table set for seven when Andrea walked into the small breakfast room. She was wearing blue jeans and a short-sleeved, button-up shirt with two pockets in just the right places. He wished to hell he hadn’t noticed.

  He looked at his watch. She’d made it with about two seconds to spare. Wouldn’t you just know it.

  She was wearing that smile again, too. His stomach lurched.

  Hunger pains. That’s all it was. He’d had them enough to know, hadn’t he? But, hell, why couldn’t the woman smile like everyone else he knew? A simple lifting of the corners of the mouth, add in a few facial lines, you’ve got a smile. But not Andrea Parker. No, her smile lifted right up off her face and electrified anyone in its path. She had no right going around giving everyone the illusion that she really cared, that she’d be there if she was needed. Doug had learned a long time ago not to believe in illusions.

  He was going to have to call Stan. Maybe they could reassign him to another team, another mentor, another session.

  “Hi, guys. Everybody sleep okay?” Andrea asked, sliding into the last empty chair. It was two down from Doug. He was thankful for small mercies. If he moved his own chair a little and leaned back just the right way, he didn’t even have to see her.

  He hadn’t called Celia in a long time, hadn’t slept with her in even longer. Maybe that was his problem. He’d just been too long without a woman. Maybe he should give Celia a call.

  The men around him all nodded or grunted in reply to Andrea’s cheery greeting. Doug remained silent. First thing in the morning was not a good time to chip away at the defenses of a bunch of strong, confident men. Hell, no time was a good time. Didn’t the woman have any sense at all?

  “What’s for breakfast?” she asked the silent group, apparently undaunted by their evasive eyes and grouchy expressions.

  “Eggs. They’re scrambling yours, since you weren’t here to order,” the big Swede answered. He was sitting right next to Andrea, so it would have been downright rude of him not to reply. Doug felt a moment’s empathy for the guy, but mostly he was just glad it wasn’t him.