Dare to Love

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “How’d you like to meet a wonderful man?” Andrea asked Amy as the two women walked down to the lake behind the hostel after breakfast.

  Amy laughed. “Who wouldn’t?”

  “No, really. I mean it. I can introduce you to him if you’d like.”

  “You don’t mean that gorgeous hunk I saw you get in the elevator with last night, do you?”

  “He is hunk-of-the-month material, isn’t he?” Andrea mused. What was wrong with her? She was throwing away a perfect date.

  “I only saw him from behind, but what I saw was pretty spectacular. How come you’re not—I mean, didn’t you two come together?”

  “He’s my mother’s next-door neighbor. He’s a great guy, but really, we’re just friends. You wanna meet him?” Andrea hoped her mother’s telepathy was on the blink. Otherwise she could expect a lightning bolt from heaven to strike her at any moment.

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind.” The petite brunette smiled, losing some of the shadows that were haunting her lovely eyes.

  * * *

  GLORIA DROPPED Scotty off at Lizzie’s house with an impatient wave and a promise to return in time to take the two of them to play miniature golf that evening.

  She pulled her car out into the street, turning in the direction of home, just in case he was watching, and then did an illegal U-turn in the next block. She knew her family was not going to approve of where she was going. But there were some things a mother just had to do. And one of them was to listen to her instincts. Gloria’s were screaming loud and clear.

  She pulled the newspaper article out of the pocket of her shapeless shift, looked at the picture again and returned it to its place for safekeeping. The photographer had captured a miracle. Andrea’s face was filled with longing, with love, with worry, as she gazed at the man being pulled from the rubbish and placed on a stretcher. It was the same man she’d been looking at during the DARE culmination breakfast. His name was Doug Avery.

  Gloria found his apartment with only one wrong turn, pulled into the visitors’ parking area and picked up the homemade brownies from the seat beside her. She’d never met a man yet who didn’t like her brownies.

  He answered on her first knock. “Can I help you?”

  He was wearing black sweats that had been cut off at midthigh and a black T-shirt. His feet were bare, his hair rumpled and his face looked like it hadn’t seen a razor since the tornado. Gloria eyed the silver-studded, black leather wristband for a moment and then met the man’s eyes. That’s when she fell in love.

  “I think so. May I come in?”

  * * *

  ANDREA HAD BUTTERFLIES as she entered the hostel dining room with Mark at her side. What if he and Amy hated each other on sight? Maybe she should have left well enough alone. Just then Amy spotted her—it was too late to change her mind.

  “Mark, this is Amy. Amy, Mark,” she said, stopping beside Amy’s table.

  “Mark Bishop?”

  “Amy Jordon?”

  “You two know each other?”

  “I can’t believe it’s you. You look great!”

  “So do you!”

  “How long have you two known each other?”

  “What happened to Sharry? I thought you two’d be married long ago by now.”

  “We were. We’re divorced.”

  “I can’t believe you two know each other.”

  “I heard about Danny. I’m sorry, Amy. Really sorry.”

  “Me too. He was the greatest. But I gotta go on, you know?”

  Andrea looked from Amy to Mark and back again. They were looking at each other like they’d each won the lottery. They’d forgotten she was even there.

  She backed away from the table, excused herself to their waitress and headed for the coffee shop across the street. Matchmaking was a funny business. She was happy for her two friends, and lonelier than she could ever remember being.

  * * *

  “I‘M WORRIED ABOUT my daughter.”

  Doug didn’t know what to make of the large woman sitting on the other end of his couch, claiming she was Andrea’s mother.

  “From what I’ve seen, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” he said.

  The big woman harrumphed. “I know my daughter, young man. I know when to worry.”

  Doug shook his head, wondering if he was going to wake up soon. Maybe he was having another concussion.

  “So why are you telling me about it?” he asked.

  “Because I think you care.”

  “What ever gave you that idea?” he asked angrily. This woman hadn’t even met him until today. How could she possibly know something about him that he didn’t even know himself? What right did she have to barge into his house and accuse him of things?

  “You telling me you don’t?” She glared at him with eyes that were exact replicas of Andrea’s.

  Doug opened his mouth to tell her just how wrong she was, but he couldn’t lie to those eyes.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said when he remained silent.

  “Why do I get the feeling Andrea wouldn’t approve of you being here?” he queried, trying to make sense of it himself. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just ask the woman to leave and be done with it.

  “Because you’re smarter than you look. Now listen. My daughter’s been through hell and back, except she can’t quite seem to make it back. She used to argue with me all the time, quite well, I might add. Now all I ever get is ‘Yes, Ma,’ ‘No, Ma’.”

  Doug’s head was spinning, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the bump he’d received. “You’re worried because your daughter won’t argue with you?”

  “I’m worried because she’s not happy. That jerk she married walked out on her at a time when she really needed him. Now even her tears are without passion. She just lets them fall, doesn’t sob like she used to. She doesn’t feel things like she used to. There’s no fire.”

  Was he getting this right? The problem was that Andrea didn’t cry properly?

  “Uh, where do I fit into all this?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know.

  “She’s all shut away. I think you might be able to get her out.”

  Doug wasn’t sure the woman wasn’t just plain crazy. “Why me?”

  “Because Andrea’s never mentioned you....”

  * * *

  ANDREA SPOTTED DOUG as she hurried across the parking lot after school on Tuesday. He was heading her way. She walked faster. He walked faster.

  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  “I’m sorry, Doug, I can’t,” she said, trying to get to her car before she gave in. She’d only been back in town two days and already she was losing focus.

  “Why not? I owe you one. You gotta let a guy pay his debts.” He followed her to her cruiser, holding on to the door as she got inside and tried to shut it.

  “You said that last night.”

  “Yeah, and you said you had plans.”

  “I did have plans.”

  “But you don’t tonight, do you?” His arms were draped over the top of the door and the roof of her car as he leaned in toward her.

  Doug Avery in small doses she could resist. Having him filling the interior of her car was another matter.

  “If I have dinner this once, will you consider the debt paid and quit bugging me?”

  He smiled that wicked smile that went straight to her belly. “Am I bugging you?” he asked.

  “Doug.” She drew out his name in warning.

  “Okay. You have my word. I’ll stop harassing you about who owes who what.”

  Andrea knew that his concession was a far cry from what she’d asked. But he looked so vulnerable suddenly as he stood there waiting for her answer.

  “Okay, I’ll have dinner with you. Where do you want to meet?”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, swinging her door shut and striding away before she could suggest an alternative.

  For a man whose posture was lazy at best,
he sure could move quickly when he wanted to. Andrea smiled, and knew she was in deep trouble.

  * * *

  DOUG WAS ALMOST HOME when he saw the grubby blond boy coming out of a 7-Eleven. Jeremy Schwartz. Slowing his car, he watched as the boy walked away alone, huddled in against himself, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his oversize pants. He’d bet there was contraband in those pockets. He’d bet his life on it.

  And he’d bet it wasn’t chewing gum or candy, either. It was probably peanuts. They were small, easy to conceal and full of protein. They didn’t cause aches on an empty stomach.

  Or it could have been cigarettes. They were necessary for other reasons.

  Doug followed the boy at a discreet distance until Jeremy cut through a couple of yards and hopped a fence. He still wouldn’t have lost him if he’d been willing to risk exposure. But he didn’t want the boy to know he’d seen him. He didn’t want to make him any more defensive than he already was. He wanted Jeremy to trust him.

  * * *

  DOUG TOOK ANDREA to One Nation for dinner. Set on the top floor of the tallest building in Columbus, the revolving restaurant afforded an incredible view. The atmosphere and the food came in a close second. Doug wasn’t sure how many chances he was going to get with her, so he wasn’t taking any chances. He’d even put on a tie with his white oxford shirt and Dockers.

  “Tell me about your ex,” he said as he poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle of chardonnay he’d ordered.

  She shrugged and looked out the window beside their table. “There’s not much to tell. We wanted different things.”

  A week ago Doug might have believed her.

  “What things?”

  “I wanted to be a cop. He didn’t want it.” She was wearing a teal blue cotton top and miniskirt. The rich color was reflected in her eyes.

  “So why’d you marry him?” That was one of the questions Gloria hadn’t answered.

  Andrea took a sip of her wine, studying the golden liquid as if life’s answers floated there. “We were high-school sweethearts. I couldn’t imagine not marrying him. We were married for almost a year before I knew I wanted to enter the academy.”

  “Was he against it from the beginning, or just after he got a taste of the life?”

  “From the beginning.” She smiled sadly. “I loved him enough to give him the world. I thought he loved me enough to come around once he saw how much police work meant to me.”

  “When did you know it wasn’t going to happen?”

  Doug would never have asked if he didn’t sense that her answer was a critical one. He’d done a lot of thinking after Gloria had left the other day, and he figured that if he was ever going to have a chance with Andrea, she was going to have to deal with whatever had happened in her past.

  Being a cop himself, Doug was pretty certain that she must have had a case go bad, that she must have been questioning her ability, as any good cop does at such a time. And that her husband, instead of standing beside her, had deserted her.

  Andrea didn’t answer his question. She swirled the wine in her glass. She took a sip.

  “What happened?” Doug asked softly. He slouched down in his seat, resting his forearms on the edge of the table.

  He still wasn’t sure he was what Andrea needed. He still wasn’t sure she’d be able to forgive him his past. But for some reason it was important to him that she live again, that she be happy.

  “I made a mistake,” she finally said softly. “A big one. He blamed me. He told me either I give up being a cop or he’d leave.”

  “The bastard,” Doug said. He didn’t realize how forcefully he’d said the word until she glanced up and smiled at him.

  How could any man who’d had this woman have left her? he wondered. How could he have left that damn smile?

  Andrea watched the expressions chase themselves across Doug’s face. Just knowing he was on her side made her feel better.

  “How come you’ve never married?” she asked. It was something that she’d been wondering about a lot lately.

  Doug shrugged, running his index finger up and down the stem of his wineglass. “It never seemed like the thing to do.”

  His vague answer frustrated her.

  “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

  He grinned at her over his glass. “What is this, twenty questions?”

  Andrea gave up. He wasn’t going to answer her. She’d had enough experience as his mentor to know that Doug Avery was a master at prevarication.

  Doug knew he’d disappointed her. He set out to be his most charming as they ordered lobster for dinner and laughed over his bungled attempts to eat it. He never should have asked those questions about her personal life. He had no business courting confidences he wasn’t going to return. He was just going to have to find some other way to reach her.

  “You going to invite me in for coffee?” he asked as he walked her to the door of her apartment later that evening.

  “You don’t drink coffee.”

  He’d forgotten that he’d told her that the morning after the tornado.

  “I know.”

  He trailed his fingers up her forearm as she reached to unlock her door.

  “No, Doug.”

  She opened her door just enough for her to slip inside. Doug stopped her as soon as he realized that that was just what she intended to do. He pulled her against him, fitting her thighs in between his, molding her breasts to his chest. He lowered his mouth to hers before she could work up another protest.

  Her response was instantaneous and hot, just like the last time he’d held her. She met him thrust for thrust, as if she’d been waiting all night for him to touch her, as if she hadn’t just rejected him seconds before. She gave him a taste of the passion he suspected she was keeping bottled up tightly inside herself, and Doug knew that he was in danger of becoming an addict again. But this time he wasn’t so sure about his chances of drying out.

  And then, just as he was about to take her in to her bed, to finish what they had started two months ago, he found himself standing alone at her door. She’d pushed away from him so fast he’d hardly known what was happening. She was inside before he could figure out a way to get her back in his arms. He heard her dead bolt click and knew that he’d had all of her he was going to get that night. Damn!

  * * *

  DOUG SOUGHT JEREMY OUT on the playground that next Monday. DARE officers were encouraged to mingle with the kids during their lunch and recess times, and Jeremy was one kid Doug was becoming more and more eager to mingle with.

  “How about a little one-on-one?” Doug asked, bouncing a basketball toward the kid.

  Jeremy looked at him out of eyes that were cynical enough to belong to a fifty-year-old man. He didn’t even bother to comment. He just turned and walked away.

  Doug followed him.

  “Hey. I asked you a question. You didn’t answer,” he said, falling in step with the boy. The basketball was lodged between his forearm and his side.

  “I didn’t ask for no do-goodin’, man. Lay off.”

  “Yeah. I guess you didn’t.”

  Doug continued to walk beside the boy, hoping the kid would say something. Anything. Even cussing him out would be better than this wall of silence.

  “You haven’t done any of your reports,” Doug finally said. If the kid wasn’t going to talk, he would do what he could to get a rise out of him. He saw too much of himself in Jeremy to just let the kid slip away.

  “Get real, man. Like some damn report’s gonna make any difference.”

  “It could.” Doug cursed himself for sounding like a cop.

  “Yeah, and I could join the Boy Scouts if I wanted to, right?”

  The bell rang, signaling the end of recess, and Jeremy took off like a shot, heading toward the school. But even then, Doug noticed that he was the last one to go inside. The kid always kept his back covered. If he was last in line, there was no one behind him, no one who could be stabbing him.
Doug nodded his head. He understood. He was always last in a line himself.

  Andrea watched Doug from across the playground. She saw him approach Jeremy, saw Jeremy turn away and saw Doug go after him. She held her breath, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing. Doug was reaching out, on his own, without being required to do so.

  She watched as the man and the boy walked together across the field, their hands in their pockets. And her heart split in two when Jeremy turned and ran away from Doug.

  And that’s when Andrea knew for certain that she was irrevocably in love with Doug Avery. It tore her up to think of him risking his heart and being rejected. She wanted to wring that boy’s neck. For the first time in four years, Andrea’s kids weren’t coming first.

  But, somehow, they were going to have to be enough. Because just as Andrea knew she loved Doug, she knew she couldn’t handle the responsibility of that love.

  * * *

  ANDREA’S PHONE RANG late the following Friday night. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her mother. She reached for the receiver after the eighth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  She sat up. Doug? Why was he calling her? “Is something wrong?”

  “I need your help.”

  “Sure. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m going to Stan’s house tomorrow night for dinner. I need you to come with me.”

  Andrea wanted to say yes, and the word almost slipped out.

  “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t, they’re going to ask Myra’s sister to make up a fourth.”

  Andrea told herself she couldn’t go. There just wasn’t any point.

  “Who’s Myra?”

  “Stan’s wife. Ever met her?”

  She smiled at his aggrieved tone, curling her toes underneath the covers. “Nope. I’ve only met Stan once.”

  “Myra’s a real sweet woman, she’s a good wife, but she’s about as meek as they come. Except for her sister, of course. She’s even worse.”

  “You’ve met Myra’s sister?”

  “Twice. And I scared her to death both times.”

  Andrea grinned again. “I can see your dilemma. Why not just make up some excuse not to go?”