Dare to Love

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  She got out of bed and collected the account she’d started the night before. Thinking of the kids, and of one little boy in particular, she forced herself to be objective and recall the officer’s transgressions that day. There was his lack of contribution to the innocuous conversation at breakfast; the display of temper when he’d almost stomped out of the morning’s session; the way he’d just walked off after the basketball game, leaving his team standing there accepting congratulations without him. The man was a loner, and loners didn’t attract friends, especially in children.

  Andrea was about to close the ledger, put her pen away and climb back into bed, but in all fairness, there was more she had to write. At the bottom of the page, she made a little plus sign. And then another. Doug Avery had swallowed his anger and sat back down without insolence when Andrea had warned him that he was on the verge of being thrown out of the program. For some reason, the man wanted to be there. It meant a lot to him. That had to count for something. And beside the second plus, she wrote, At least he played the game.

  That settled, Andrea returned to her bed, punched her pillow a little harder than was necessary and settled down to do her mind’s bidding. She would sleep. She would sleep.

  Sometime after midnight she slipped out of the bed that hadn’t yet coaxed sleep from her body, gathered DARE Bear from atop the TV, cuddled him to her breast and took him back to bed. He kept her company until sleep finally claimed her.

  * * *

  “DO NOT, I repeat, do not stand up and lecture your kids. Their minds will wander, they’ll miss something. You have to involve them in every aspect of their learning.” Andrea looked out to the sea of faces and spotted her team of six among the other DARE trainees. They all seemed to be absorbing her words.

  All except Doug Avery. Andrea couldn’t really say whether Doug was paying attention or not. She refused to look at him directly. Her reactions to him on the basketball court the day before were still too recent, her resolve not to feel them again too shaky for her to take a chance on putting it to the test.

  “In other words, guys, do as I say and not as I do,” she continued, lightening her tone once she was certain her point had been made.

  “Now, before I give you my own inspired ideas for getting the kids to participate, do any of you have any suggestions?”

  A hand or two popped up, and then two or three more.

  “Make crossword puzzles, with the day’s facts as clues.”

  “Play a board game where teams have to recite facts to progress.”

  “Have them do group reports and read them to the class.”

  Andrea continued to take suggestions, adding her own comments where she thought appropriate, pointing out hazards as she saw them. All in all, she was pleased with the attention the men were giving the exercise.

  And then, in the back corner of the ballroom-cum-lecture room, she saw a hand go up, a strip of silver-studded black leather attached to the masculine wrist. For a moment her heart stopped. In her mind’s eye, she saw again that scrap of leather moving down toward her on the basketball court, felt the strange, instant excitement as a firm grip took possession of her hand. And again she felt the urge to find the man inside the shell of Doug Avery, to bring him out, to get to know him.

  “Doug?” she called. He didn’t move from his slouched position. His legs, covered with the inevitable black denim, were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His arms rested against his massive chest.

  “Listen.” The one word was spoken inflexibly, as if his was the only answer.

  He still had an attitude problem.

  “Listen to what the kid knows,” he went on. “It’d probably save everyone lots of time. Then channel that knowledge onto a course that helps the kid find his own answers. When push comes to shove, those are the only ones he’s going to have faith in anyway.” His piercing brown eyes looked straight at her, as if daring her to argue.

  But for once, Andrea had no desire to argue with him. He sounded as if he was speaking from experience. He also sounded right. Still, the children could be led through proper channels only if they trusted their guide, if they felt that their leader cared where they were going and where they ended up.

  Andrea still didn’t think Doug Avery could inspire that trust. Not only was he crude, and slightly sinister-looking with his crooked nose and jagged scar, but his whole attitude suggested that he was self-sufficient and expected others to be the same. That was the attitude that led kids straight to hell.

  * * *

  DOUG HAD HIS FIRST one-on-one session with Andrea later that evening. He’d seen her at dinner, sitting with a couple of other training officers, but hadn’t spoken to her directly since the previous day on the basketball court. Not that he minded. Speaking wasn’t what he wanted to do with her.

  The thoughts he’d been having about her since the game had everything to do with doing, and nothing to do with saying. He wanted her long, silky legs wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to watch her face on his pillow after some hard loving. Above all he wanted to believe that sexual attraction was all he felt for her, that making love with her would cure the uneasiness he felt inside every time she entered a room. He needed to believe it.

  He did not want to share his thoughts with her, to show her his soul.

  He walked into the suite that had been assigned to his team, the one where he’d first seen her, feeling more uncomfortable than he did walking a beat among gangs and druggies. The suite was empty. He’d beat her to it.

  Doug slouched down in the seat Andrea had occupied that first night—not because she’d occupied it, but because he could view every other part of the room from it. It made him feel better, somehow, more in control, to have the whole room under his command.

  He knew that a couple of the other guys had already had their first one-on-one’s. Right now, he sure would have liked to know what to expect out of the next hour. How was she going to be coming at him? How best could he avoid her? Was there any chance he could get her into bed instead?

  Did he really want her to be that kind of woman?

  With his elbows resting on the arms of his chair and his fingers propped in a steeple below his chin, he watched as the door swung open and Andi came into the room. She was wearing white jeans and a bright blue polo shirt that detailed the delicate shape of her breasts above her trim, womanly waistline.

  And she was smiling. Did the woman ever enter a room without that damn smile? Doug glanced away, ignoring the curious pool of warmth he felt deep inside as he got caught in that smile again, and also ignoring the stuffed bear in the crook of her arm.

  “Hi, Doug. You’re on time,” she said, taking the seat opposite him. She ran the fingers of one hand through her stylishly cropped blond hair. He really liked her hair. Its shortness was sassy, not harsh.

  “You sound disappointed,” he said.

  “Nope. Not even surprised.” She settled her stuffed toy on the table beside her. Doug was glad to have it out of the way.

  “I knew you’d be on time. You’re very methodical about doing what you have to do to accomplish the goal you’ve set for yourself.” Her voice was warm, husky, as well modulated as ever.

  So it’s finally arrived—the time when she plays shrink. Let her play her games, he thought, determined not to let her get to him. She can’t take anything I don’t give her. Nobody can.

  She seemed to be waiting for some kind of reply to her statement. He nodded.

  “That’s an admirable quality.”

  He nodded again, trying to picture her in a shower—or better yet, naked in the woods in a downpour. It was the only thing he could think of to take his mind off the probing look in her eyes.

  “I’m just not sure why,” she continued. She crossed one knee over the other. Her hands rested comfortably along the arms of her chair. Her whole confident, controlled demeanor was beginning to bother him.

  “Why what?” he asked.

  “Why you’v
e set this goal for yourself.”

  Doug shrugged. “Why have any of us?”

  If he’d hoped to slow her down with that one, he was disappointed.

  “Usually out of compassion for the children.” Her watchful eyes gave him no peace.

  “That’s as good a reason as any.”

  “Is it your reason?”

  She was getting close to invading his space. Doug felt his defenses shoot up. Calm down, man. You don’t want to blow this. His muscles tightened, ready for action, but he forced himself to stay right where he was, lying back in the chair. “Maybe.”

  “You don’t seem the compassionate type.”

  She was challenging him. He wasn’t going to let her trap him so easily. He’d long since stopped needing to prove himself to anyone.

  “You’re into stereotyping?” he asked.

  They were no longer just talking about the reasons for his stint with DARE. They were like two tigers stalking each other, each waiting for the other to make that crucial mistake that would give the other control.

  She kicked off her shoes, white leather slip-ons that she wore without socks, and curled her feet up under her. She leaned closer to the table on which her toy was perched.

  “I just say it like I see it,” she said.

  A part of Doug approved of how she gave as good as she got, but the bigger part of him knew it was time to end their charade. She may have the upper hand as far as DARE was concerned, but he had the final say about what he was going to reveal about himself, and to whom.

  “Well, what I see here are two healthy adults who could be using this room for something much more mutually satisfying than—”

  “Officer! Let’s stick to the business at hand, hmm?” she said without raising her voice. “Unless, of course, you’d like to resign from the program and save us both a lot of time?”

  What did it take to make the woman understand that he was not going anywhere?

  “Sorry, no can do,” he said. He unsnapped his wristband and snapped it again before letting his arm fall back to the chair.

  The stuffed bear with the DARE emblem kept staring at him, as if the damn glass eyes could see everything Doug wanted to keep hidden. He decided that maybe there was a purpose for the thing, after all. He could use it for target practice. He’d bet he could take out one of those eyes with a single shot from fifty feet.

  “Is your mother still alive?”

  Andrea’s question startled Doug back to the business at hand.

  He turned slightly in his chair, lifting his ankle to rest it across his knee.

  “I have no idea,” he said. He thought briefly of the woman he’d known, of her softness. He hoped she was still alive. He wanted her to have had a happy life all these years.

  Andi’s eyes took on a peculiar light—softer, warmer. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” she asked.

  Doug shrugged. “I don’t know. Twenty, maybe twenty-five years.”

  Her blue eyes opened wide. “But you’re only thirty now. You’re telling me you haven’t seen her since you were a little boy?”

  Doug nodded, wondering why she was making a big deal about it. Lots of guys grew up without mothers. “I was five when she took off.”

  “She deserted you?” Andi asked, a hint of criticism in her voice.

  Doug was getting ticked off again. Andi Parker had no business judging a woman she’d never met.

  “She didn’t desert me. She merely did what she had to do. She had a chance to escape an abusive situation that was going to kill her sooner or later, and she took it.”

  “Was it your father she was running from? Did he hit her? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Doug could feel the muscles in his neck begin to clench.

  “He hit her when he was in a good mood. It wasn’t nearly so pretty when he wasn’t.”

  “And yet she just ran off and left you there with him?”

  Doug couldn’t believe her naiveté. The woman was still a police officer. Hadn’t she learned anything during her years on the force?

  He couldn’t believe her nerve, either. His childhood was his business. He sat up in his chair, his hands ready to push off.

  “The guy who offered to take her away from it all, to give her a chance at a better life, didn’t include a snot-nosed kid in the bargain. She did what she had to do. That’s what life’s all about—each man for himself, the strongest wins and all that. Besides, she wouldn’t have been doing me any good by staying just so I could watch the bastard kill her.”

  Andi leaned forward. “But what about you? What happened to you after she left? Did he hit you, too?”

  Doug shook his head. He’d had enough. None of this had anything to do with teaching kids to stay off drugs.

  He looked her up and down, slowly, deliberately. “Doesn’t your old man ever worry that you might be doing more with us guys than just talking, while you’re here alone with us in a hotel room each night?” he asked.

  He’d meant to unnerve her, to shake her up, to throw her off track. He hadn’t meant to be interested in her answer.

  She didn’t blush. But her eyes were no longer boring into him. “I don’t have a man, and if I did, he’d either trust me or be history.”

  “You’re not married?” he asked. He shouldn’t have been so pleased to hear it. Besides, there was no reason for him to continue this line of questioning. He’d accomplished his goal—they were no longer talking about him. He wanted to hear her answer anyway.

  “Not now,” she said, meeting his eyes with her own electric blue gaze. And for the first time, Doug looked back. Really looked back. The woman had something...substance, maybe. He kept looking.

  “Were you ever?” he asked, knowing darn well that he was overstepping his bounds.

  “I was, yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “He didn’t like being married to a cop.”

  “The jerk.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You got any kids?”

  Her eyes became shuttered. Doug saw it, the barely perceptible shadowing, the hint of agony. Her husband must have gotten custody along with the divorce. A cop was hardly single-parent material.

  “No.”

  That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. Had he imagined the pain he’d seen so briefly, then? Or was it something else? Maybe she was unable to have children....

  “So what’s the real reason you want to be a DARE officer?”

  She slid the words in so casually that Doug almost missed them. Or rather, he almost missed the fact that they’d just returned to the roles of trainee and mentor.

  But even being caught off guard wasn’t enough to make him betray himself. Each man for himself—he’d learned the lesson well. And it worked. It had pulled him out of hell and turned him into a respected, even decorated member of the force. How much he liked or didn’t like Andi Parker had no bearing on things at all.

  He looked at his watch. Their time was about up, anyway.

  “Look, lady,” he said, pushing out of his chair. “You’re good at what you do. I’ll admit I had hesitations about the training program at first, but I’m already convinced that it’s not only a necessary part of DARE, but a vital one. You can take credit for that. You’ll have my full participation. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

  Andi got up too, facing him. She still hadn’t put her shoes back on. Her head only came to his shoulders.

  “Will you answer just one more question for me?”

  Her bare toes were more of a distraction than they should have been. He’d never, not once, had a kinky thought about toes. Doug put his hands on his hips.

  “Probably not,” he said.

  “Do you really believe it’s always each man for himself?”

  Finally, an easy answer. “Absolutely.”

  She slipped into her shoes and wrapped her arms around her midriff, cradling herself.

  “How old were you when you left your father’
s home?”

  She’d said only one more question. “Sixteen.”

  “So you had to live with his abuse for more than half of your life....”

  Her words hung between them, seeking confirmation. Doug simply shrugged.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She looked at his implacable expression for another second, then walked around him and left the room. But not before he’d seen the tears in her eyes.

  No one, not even his mother, had ever cried for him before. It gave him the strangest feeling—like he was special or something, important enough to draw tears other than his own. Doug had absolutely no idea what to do about that.

  And he had no idea what to do with the tiny beige teddy bear she had forgotten to take with her, either. With a shake of his head, he turned his back and left the suite, leaving the nosy glass eyes staring after him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “HELLO?”

  “Yeah, is Celia around?”

  Doug lay nude across his kingsize hotel bed, wondering what derelict Celia had taken in this time. He didn’t recognize the guy’s voice.

  “She’s here. Who’s this?”

  Doug frowned. The male voice on the other end of the line was almost challenging. None of the drunks Celia rented rooms to had ever before been sober enough to fight a flea.

  “Tell her it’s Doug. She’ll come to the phone.” He was getting a little defensive himself. After the evening he’d just had, all he wanted was a little uncomplicated sex to sooth his raging nerves. He didn’t need more complications; Andrea Parker and her stupid teddy bear presented enough to last him a lifetime.

  Doug listened while the man spoke to someone, presumably Celia. He hadn’t bothered to cover the mouthpiece.

  “Some guy’s on the phone. Says his name’s Doug. Says you’ll talk to him.”

  Doug heard a feminine murmur, followed by the distinct muffling of the phone and an unintelligible masculine reply. What the hell was going on?

  He sat up, his adrenalin pumping. Had Celia finally trusted one too many down-and-outers?

  “Doug?”

  “Yeah, babe, you okay?” he asked, relieved when Celia’s familiar, high-pitched tones came over the line. She didn’t sound scared.