Dare to Love

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  The two men took seats at the breakfast counter. “Are they going to need me to testify?”

  Stan dumped two packets of sugar into his coffee. “It doesn’t look like it. Now that he’s talking, they’ve got enough on him without you. But I told them where you are, just in case. They’ll call if they need you.”

  Doug nodded, glad to see that Stan was looking a lot more relaxed than he had the last time he’d seen him. He’d like to have five minutes alone with the bastard who, for a few quick bucks, had almost ruined Stan’s life.

  “So how’s it going?” Stan asked as soon as they’d placed their orders for bacon and eggs.

  Doug slouched down, resting his forearms on the counter in front of him. “It’s going.”

  “You gonna make it?”

  “What do you think?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think this time, buddy. This one’s up to you.”

  Doug nodded and ran his finger along the edge of his coffee cup.

  “You wanna know what I think?” He looked sideways at Stan, uncomfortable when he saw the other man’s clear dark eyes gazing at him piercingly. “I think I’m going to make the best damn DARE officer this state’s ever seen. That’s what I think,” Doug said. He hated the defensiveness he heard in his voice. But when he was with Stan, it was sometimes hard to think of himself as more than the loser he’d been when Stan had first found him. He could never quite get past the fact that the sergeant knew what he really was. Which was one reason why he swore to himself that no one else would ever know.

  Stan sat silently sipping his coffee, waiting, Doug knew. That was Stan’s way. He’d wait until Christmas if he had to, and eventually Doug would talk—he always had.

  A middle-aged waitress brought their breakfasts, set a basket of jelly packets down between them and left. The two men ate in silence until both plates were clean, and didn’t talk until they’d been cleared away.

  “I think I’m pretty damn qualified to impart the importance of alternative choices,” Doug finally said as Stan started on his second cup of coffee.

  He nodded.

  “I won’t just be mimicking lessons I learned in a classroom. I can teach these kids about life. I can teach them the difference between my life and theirs.”

  Doug fiddled with his wristband, until he saw Stan glance at it, too. Stan knew what it covered. Doug picked up his coffee cup.

  “You gonna tell ‘em about it?” Stan asked casually.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Doug said. His tone brooked no argument.

  Stan didn’t argue. But he didn’t look completely satisfied, either.

  “I think I might be able to save a life or two just the same,” Doug said.

  Stan reached across to squeeze his shoulder, the closest he’d ever come to showing Doug real affection.

  “I think so too, son. I think so too.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ANDREA MANAGED TO AVOID Doug until Friday afternoon. She was scheduled to review his interpersonal communication skills before dinner. She’d been alternating between dreading and looking forward to the session all week. When she was dreading it, she knew she could handle it. It was when she found herself looking forward to it that she considered turning Doug over to one of the other mentors.

  She was feeling somewhat in control when she slipped a note under Doug’s door early Friday morning, asking him to meet her out in the atrium alongside the pool late that afternoon. She’d put Monday night’s foolishness behind her. She wasn’t going to dwell on her response to Doug’s touch; she wasn’t going to believe in the incredible passion she’d thought she felt in his arms. She’d just been geared up, and overtired.

  And since he hadn’t tried, even once, to seek her out all week, she could only assume that the episode had meant as little to him as it had to her.

  She dressed for the meeting in denim shorts and a polo shirt, careful not to do more than freshen her light makeup and run a quick comb through her hair. She wasn’t going to go to any extra effort to look good for Doug.

  She’d chosen the atrium on purpose. The tables in the glassed-in room were set far enough apart to afford privacy, yet the place was public enough that nothing as intimate as a caress could pass unnoticed by the other occupants. The topics she and Doug were to discuss had been predetermined by DARE procedure. She was in control.

  Until Doug came striding through the atrium dressed in golf shorts and a sports shirt. His lean, muscled legs were covered with crisp dark hair, his chest was straining against the cotton of his shirt and he was smiling. The scar at his temple was barely visible.

  His gaze met hers across the room and Andrea was flooded with an instant replay of the mind-numbing sensations she’d wallowed in four nights before. And if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, he was remembering, too. She felt the onslaught of a major panic attack.

  Doug settled into the seat across from Andrea, glad to be with her again. He’d missed her.

  “So where do we start?” he asked.

  She looked up at him briefly, and then concentrated on the papers in front of her. Her features were stiff. Her hands were trembling. Doug wanted to reach across and hold them until they were steady. He wanted to slide his hand beneath her short, sassy hair and rub the tension from her neck. He wanted to tell her she had nothing to fear from him.

  He knew then that he’d just wasted the better part of a week for nothing. The fact that Andrea made him feel like more of a man than any woman ever had before should be something to celebrate, not worry about.

  “You’re at the grocery store.” Her voice broke into his thoughts. “The cashier gives you your change. You get out to your car and discover that she gave you a dollar too much. What do you do?”

  Doug smiled, and settled down further in his seat. “How far am I parked from the door of the store?”

  Andrea glanced up from her papers. “About halfway down the parking lot.”

  “Is it raining?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “No.”

  “Then I’d take it back.”

  She smiled. “What if it had been?”

  “Raining, you mean?” He smiled back.

  “Yeah.”

  “How hard?” He held her gaze with his. She didn’t look away this time.

  “Hard. Really hard.”

  Adrenalin started pumping through Doug’s veins. “Is there lightning? Am I in danger of being struck?”

  Andrea’s gaze broke away from him. She looked out toward the swimming pool. “No.”

  “Then I’d have to say I’d still go back,” he said. He watched her, waiting for her to meet his gaze again.

  “What if I’d said yes?” The words were so soft Doug almost missed them.

  “I’d have taken my chances.”

  She looked back at him then, and her eyes were filled with such conflict that Doug wanted to take her in his arms right then and there. He wanted to erase her doubts, to show her how good it could be between them.

  “You’d have gone back anyway?”

  “Yep.”

  She looked relieved, just briefly, but it was enough to convince Doug that they hadn’t just been talking about the weather.

  “If you had to choose between the good of one and the overall good of many, which would you choose?” She read the next question on her list, but she sounded more like a woman getting to know a man than a mentor training an officer. She leaned forward, as if his answer was important to her.

  Doug had to remind himself that she’d run through this same exercise with every other man on his team.

  “I suppose it would depend on how crucially the one was in need, how much harm would be done to the majority and how closely I was involved with either.”

  She pushed her papers aside and leaned on the table. “Let’s say you’re closely involved with the one. It’s a friend of yours. And a lot of harm would come to the majority.”

  “Is it a matter of life and death for any of th
em?”

  “No.”

  “Is the need of my friend legitimate?”

  She considered his question carefully. “Yes.”

  “Would the majority be put in physical jeopardy?”

  Again she thought about it. “No.”

  “Then I guess I’d have to do whatever I could to help the majority overcome the harm.”

  It took her a second, but then she smiled, wrapping him in invisible bands of warmth. “You’d help the one.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  She fiddled with the papers in front of her. “I’d like to think so.”

  A waitress came by and offered them drinks. Andrea ordered iced tea and Doug asked for a beer.

  “How much weight do you put in material wealth?” she asked after their drinks had been delivered.

  Doug shrugged. That was a tough one. He knew what answer she was looking for. He knew what the “right” answer had to be. But he didn’t want to lie to her.

  “A lot.”

  Her face fell. “You do?”

  “You have to understand. I’ve lived without. Where I grew up things were worth only what you could get for them if you could find someone to buy them. I’ve seen what that does to people—being forced to sell off their only possessions for about a quarter of what they’re worth. It dwindles them down to nothing. No goods, no home, no pride—nothing. People need money to make it in this world. I decided a long time ago I want to make it.”

  “At the cost of someone else?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Would you step on a little guy just to get bigger?”

  “I never said I need to be big, I only said I’m going to make it. I don’t think it has to be a matter of one guy making it at the expense of another. It’s all a matter of how much effort someone’s willing to put forth, how hard someone tries. If a guy’s not willing to take care of himself, if he wants to reap the benefits of others, if he wants something for nothing, that’s when he might get stomped on.” He looked at her intently before asking, “And how about you? Is physical comfort important to you?”

  She stirred some sugar into her tea. “Yeah. I guess it is. I’d hate to live without air-conditioning, central heating and groceries in the fridge. But I’d rather drive a Ford than a Jaguar.”

  “That’s just ‘cause you have the inside track on theft figures.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s that I know I’ll never make enough money to afford the Jaguar, anyway.”

  Doug liked her answer. He liked her honesty.

  “So what is important to you? What would you sweat over not having?” he asked.

  Her forehead creased as she considered his question. “My family. They’re important.”

  “More important than your job? Than DARE?” He didn’t think so.

  “Yes.”

  He felt his gut clench. He’d never really had a family. He’d never consciously wanted one before, either. Not until he heard Andrea declare her loyalty to hers. He wondered how different his life might have been if he’d had someone looking out for him that way, if he’d had someone to look out for.

  “What about you? What’s most important to you?” Her eyes were soft, her voice as gentle as always.

  Doug wanted to tell her something that would keep that look in her eyes. He wanted to please her. He told her the truth.

  “Being able to take care of myself.”

  Her eyes fell back to the papers in front of her.

  A couple of officers walked through the atrium on their way to dinner. They waved, but didn’t stop. Andrea continued with her questions.

  “How old were you when you went on your first official date?”

  “Define ‘official.’”

  “You ask her, you pay, she says thank-you at the end.”

  “She always says thank-you at the end.”

  “Answer the question, Doug,” Andrea said, but she was blushing.

  “Would you like to order something to eat? I’ll buy.”

  “Answer the question, Doug,” she said again, a playful warning in her voice.

  “Answer mine first and then I’ll tell you.”

  “Okay. Yeah, I’m hungry. Let’s have something to eat. Now, how old were you when you went on your first date?”

  “Do you think you’ll thank me for buying you dinner?”

  “Doug!”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course I’ll thank you. My manners are exemplary. And you aren’t going to sidetrack me from my question.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Thirty.”

  “Thirty what?” Her brow creased with confusion. It wasn’t something Doug had seen very often. He kind of liked it.

  “That’s my answer—thirty.”

  “What kind of an answer is that? You’re thirty now. Are you trying to tell me—” Her voice broke off as her eyes lit with comprehension. “Oh no. No way, buddy. You’re not going to convince me that you’ve never been on a date before.”

  Doug took quite a bit of satisfaction from the fact that she wasn’t denying that they were now on an official date. “I’ve certainly been places with women, I’ve even picked up a tab or two when it served my purposes, but by your definition, I’ve never been out on an official date. Until now, that is.” He couldn’t resist challenging her again, just for fun, just to see if she’d let his label stand.

  “You never went to a prom? Or to a Christmas dance?”

  “Nope, never did.” Yep, it stood.

  “Why not? You got something against dancing?”

  It was more that the kind of girls Doug would have liked to have asked out wouldn’t have been caught dead with him. But he wasn’t going to think about any of that now. For the time being, life was looking pretty good.

  “It’s not my favorite thing to do. What about you? How old were you?”

  Andrea grinned. “I was fifteen, I was a full six inches taller than he was and I had to call my dad to come get me.”

  “The guy get too fresh?”

  Andrea smiled. “No. But he’d forgotten to tell me that he’d had his license suspended and that he’d borrowed the car he was driving from his brother-in-law. He’d also neglected to say that his brother-in-law hadn’t given him permission to do the borrowing. Anyway, the brother-in-law reported the car stolen. We were picked up at Columbus’s rendition of Inspiration Point. Pop had to come bail us out.”

  Doug grinned at the picture she painted. “You were out at Alum Creek.”

  Andrea’s face filled with color. “Yep.”

  Doug was liking her more and more. “Bet you caught hell for that one.”

  “Ma yelled a lot. But I yelled back. I was, after all, an innocent bystander to the whole thing. It just took until three in the morning to convince my mother of that.”

  Doug wished he could have been a fly on the wall for that one. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t picture Andrea yelling at anyone—and half the night, no less.

  They ordered dinner, manicotti with meat sauce, and when Doug charged the tab to his room, Andrea thanked him politely. She asked him to stay for coffee, telling him that she still had a few more things to go over.

  “Do you believe in monogamy?”

  Doug didn’t even blink when he heard the question. But he would have bet his life that it wasn’t written on that piece of paper in front of her.

  “In this day and age I’d be a fool not to.”

  “So you only believe in it because of the health issue?”

  His answer was important to her. Doug sensed it as surely as he knew he didn’t want to live long enough to have her find out about who and what he’d been before he’d become a police officer.

  “Not entirely. I was in my last relationship for several years. I was never unfaithful to her because I chose not to be.”

  He hadn’t chosen Celia all that often either, these past months, but Andrea didn’t need to know that. He’d never thought much about being faithful to o
ne woman before. It had never seemed to matter. But he’d bet his life that if he ever got into Andrea’s bed, he wouldn’t leave it for another woman’s.

  “Y-you were married?”

  “No.”

  “You lived with her then?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  He didn’t like her hiding from him again, especially after they’d just come so far. He reached across to still her fingers as they flipped the edges of her papers.

  “Andrea.” He waited for her to look across at him. “We had an understanding that was mutually satisfying. It’s been over for a long time.”

  Andrea nodded, swallowing at the same time. Doug was beginning to realize that the lady had a few barriers of her own that needed to be broken down, and he figured he might just be the man to do it. She wanted him. He was sure about that much. The rest could wait.

  He’d learned how to be patient a long time ago.

  * * *

  “HI, POP. It’s Andrea. How ya doing?”

  Andrea stood beside her nightstand, twirling the phone cord around her fingers.

  “Andi! You okay, hon?” Her father sounded worried.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine. I just haven’t talked to you in a few days.”

  Andrea knew the call was out of character. But sometimes a woman just had to call home for no apparent reason.

  “Well, you know I always like to talk to my only daughter. Seems like I don’t get much chance when your mother’s around. She took Scotty and Lizzie to the movies this afternoon.”

  “To the movies, huh? But they’re only thirteen. I had to wait until I was fifteen to go out.”

  “It’s not really a date when your mother’s with you,” Pop said, obviously mimicking Scotty. “Besides, your mother had already told him he could go and you know how she gets when she’s made her mind up about something.”

  Andrea sank down to the edge of the bed, still fidgeting with the phone cord, but smiling, too.

  “That’s right, Pop. I don’t know how you’ve put up with her all these years.”

  “Yes, you do, girl. And you love her too. Now, do you have any particular news to report?”