by Tara Randel
“Here we are—1027 Orchard Street.” He turned off the ignition. “Welcome home.”
Eloise had leaned toward the windshield, her perceptive gaze taking in everything.
The well-maintained one-story house was painted a bright yellow, with white shutters. Neatly trimmed bushes lined the length of the foundation. Two smaller windows, curtains drawn, flanked the large picture window in the center of the home. A flag with bright flowers greeted them as it swayed from a holder by the front door. Best of all, in Dante’s opinion, it had a two-car garage. He planned on moving a car he’d been working on here in order to keep up with their cover.
“What do you think?”
“It’s lovely. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I could only pull up a picture of the outside of the house from satellite imagery.”
“Think you could live here for a couple weeks?”
He swallowed hard at her luminous smile. “Depends on the interior.” She opened her door, hopped out of the car and raced up the brick sidewalk to the front porch, keys in hand. Finding her excitement contagious, Dante followed, stopping her before she entered the house.
“Hey, wait a minute.”
She turned before slipping her key in the lock, her brows lifted on a question.
“We’re newlyweds. I need to carry you over the threshold.”
She gaped at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not one bit.” He took the key from her hand, unlocked the door, pushed it open, then proceeded to scoop her up into his arms.
“Whoa,” she cried, her arms quickly winding around his neck to hold on. This close, he inhaled the exotic whiff of jasmine. Her hair fell over her shoulders, revealing her graceful neck. Her coffee-colored eyes were wide with surprise.
This close, it would be easy to lean in and kiss her. What husband wouldn’t? Except he wasn’t her husband and no doubt she wouldn’t appreciate his advance. Her gaze met his, accessing the situation. Softening as the moment stretched out. It took every ounce of strength he had not to kiss her, anyway.
Instead, he said, “What better way to announce to the neighborhood that the newlyweds have arrived?”
She cleared her throat, her gaze darting everywhere but at him. “Do people follow this tradition these days?”
“The Smiths do.” He spun her around, then stepped inside the house. “Just so everyone knows we’re crazy in love.”
He immediately lowered her feet to the carpet and moved away. Too close, Matthews.
“Wow,” he heard Eloise utter as she viewed the comfortable living room filled with a sofa, armchair, coffee table and large-screen television. Worked for him.
After closing the door, he followed her to the kitchen at the back of the house. Not updated, but not ancient, it would work. Eloise stood before the sink, gazing out the window. “There’s a great big patio out back.”
“Guess the Smiths will be grilling.”
“Do you know how?” she asked, all business. Good.
“Yeah. My dad was an ace at the grill. I learned from the best.”
“We can have a party right away.”
“Or we could get settled first.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Funny.”
“I try.”
While she puttered around the kitchen, Dante checked out the sleeping arrangements. A spacious master with a bath was located on one side of the house, two smaller bedrooms with a bathroom between them on the other. The back bedroom was already furnished with the computer system Eloise would use while they investigated the auto thefts.
He heard a phone ring—Eloise’s cell, he assumed—and kept checking out the rooms. The smaller front bedroom would work for him, but he wanted to give her first choice. “Hey,” he called as he cut through the living room. “Care which bedroom you bunk in?”
When she didn’t answer, he detoured to the kitchen. Her back was to him, her voice lowered. “I really can’t talk, Tom. I told you after we finish the case.”
Silence.
“Right. I promise I’ll call.”
Dante backed out of the room. Tom. The cop with a crush on Eloise. Now, more than ever, his brother’s words made sense. If Eloise was interested in Tom, he needed to keep his distance. They were partners, not romantically involved. Her promise to Tom was proof that while Dante found himself distracted by her, he wasn’t her choice. She needed a nice, stable guy, not someone who could easily drop everything for a dangerous assignment.
But that wasn’t her problem. From here on out, he’d honor the line. No questions asked.
She exited the kitchen and poked her head into the master. “Nice room.”
“It’s yours.”
“Really? Just like that?”
“What, did you expect a coin toss?”
Her brows angled in confusion.
“Family thing,” he explained. “We toss for big decisions.”
“Oh, well, we can if you want.”
By the look on her face, she wanted the master. “Nah. You take it. I don’t care where I sleep.”
Her smile was reward enough for his magnanimous gesture.
“Let’s bring our belongings inside.”
They ventured out to the truck. Just as Dante had hoped, the curious were headed in their direction. An elderly woman with a cane made her way from the house next door, while a younger woman with a baby on her hip crossed the street.
“Here we go.” He spoke softly into Eloise’s ear. Felt her stiffen. “Relax,” he said just as the women arrived.
He took her hand in his. “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m Dan and this is my beautiful wife, Ellie.”
* * *
WHAT WAS HE up to? Besides establishing their cover, that is?
He hadn’t said much about her transformation. She didn’t know whether to be relived or miffed. The whole idea was to make her appear less severe, more approachable, but she’d at least hoped Dante would approve of her makeover. After all, she’d done it for the sake of the operation, which is what they were both focused on. Why was he acting so weird?
Dante bumped her with his elbow, jerking her from her thoughts. She flashed a smile at the two women.
“Hi,” she gushed, mentally telling herself to rein it in. “You’re our first visitors.”
The young woman, with her blond hair in a braid, grinned at them. “Hi. I’m Betsy.” She pointed over her shoulder. “My husband, Steve, and I live across the street.”
“And who’s this little guy?” Dante asked, chucking the baby’s chin.
“Baxter.”
“He’s adorable,” Eloise added. She hadn’t really been exposed to children very much, having no siblings or married friends with kids of their own. While she liked them, in an abstract sense, she watched the baby drool all over his mother’s shirt and held back a cringe.
Dante caught her expression and chuckled.
Best to turn her attention elsewhere. By now, the elderly neighbor had joined them. The woman breathed heavily, holding up her hand, gesturing that she needed a minute. Eloise wasn’t sure if she should do something, but took Dante’s lead and politely waited.
Finally, the woman smiled. “Well, hello. I’m Martha Jamison,” she announced, sticking a shaky hand out.
Eloise took her outstretched hand. Soft and wrinkled, a great strength belied the woman’s grip, taking Eloise by surprise. When she met the woman’s clear blue gaze, she realized the woman might be up there in age, but she had all her faculties. A familiar scent surrounded her. Shalimar, Eloise thought, reminding her of the grandmother she missed. While her parents had been less than nurturing, Grammy Beth had made time for Eloise, always encouraging and loving. Until she died when Eloise was ten. Without realizing it, she hung on to the woman’s hand longer than necessary.
“My, my, you�
�re certainly friendly.”
Eloise abruptly let go of Martha’s grasp and shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. “And happy to be home.”
“I was quite surprised when I learned Ted and Janice were going away and had rented out the house. Usually I keep up with these sorts of things.”
“It was last minute,” Dante confirmed. “Ted is a family friend and offered the house to Ellie and me while they’re gone.”
“Where, exactly, did they go?” Martha queried.
“Out west. For a visit.”
Martha brightened. “To see the kids, I would imagine.”
“You would be right,” Eloise chimed in.
Martha looked Dante and Eloise over. “They’re certainly lucky it all worked out. You seem like a very lovely couple.”
Dante threw his arm over Eloise’s shoulders. “Newlyweds actually.”
Martha placed a weathered hand over her heart. “Congratulations.”
“I remember those days.” Betsy sighed as Baxter tugged at her shirt collar.
“Enjoy the baby,” Martha advised. “They grow up much too fast.”
“I agree.” Betsy hugged her son close. “You guys moved in at just the right time.”
Dante removed his arm and fixed his attention on Betsy. Eloise missed the connection as soon as he stepped away. “And why is that?”
“We have our monthly block party this weekend. It’ll be a great time for you to meet everyone on the street.”
Dante grinned at Eloise. “Hear that, honey? We’re moving in just in time for a party.”
“I think you planned it,” she teased.
“I do like a party.”
Betsy chuckled. “I should get home. Baxter needs a nap.”
They said their goodbyes and Betsy hurried across the street.
“I suppose that’s my cue.” Martha pushed on her cane to start her walk back to the house.
“Hold up. I’ll go with you,” Eloise told her.
“How very nice, dear.”
Dante raised a brow. “Meet you inside?”
“Of course. Where else will I go?” She blew him a kiss, a fun and flirty gesture so out of character, but decided Ellie Smith would be bold enough to fling air kisses at her husband.
She fell into step beside her neighbor. “Should I call you Mrs. Jamison?”
“Oh, no, Martha is fine.”
Eloise nodded.
“I suppose you’ll have lots of questions about the neighborhood,” Martha said.
“Yes. It’ll take us a while to settle in, but Dan and I are happy to be a part of the community.”
“Newlyweds, you said?”
She tried to beam. Wasn’t sure if she succeeded. “That’s right.”
“I bet you had a short engagement.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why would you think that?”
“Just a hunch. The way you both smile at each other.”
How, exactly, did she smile at Dante? She wanted to know, but couldn’t ask. “You’re right. The idea of marriage sort of sneaked up on us and—” she snapped her fingers “—here we are.”
“Your husband is very handsome,” Martha said.
“He is,” Eloise agreed. That little fact she didn’t have to make up.
“I’m delighted you’re here.” A glimmer of sadness crossed Martha’s eyes, but was quickly gone. “With Janice away, it will be just me hanging around. Most of the parents around here work. Betsy is home most days, when she’s not off at a mommy group.”
They reached Martha’s covered front porch. “Please come by for lemonade when you have a chance.”
“I will,” Eloise replied as she watched to make sure the older woman entered the worn-looking house safely.
There was something about Martha that spoke to Eloise. It might have been the joy of life tempered with just a bit of loneliness. Martha tried to hide it, but Eloise recognized a kindred spirit when she saw one. She knew just how suffocating loneliness could be, having always been on the periphery of things growing up, wishing she belonged.
The window curtains moved and Eloise waved at her new neighbor before loping back across the grass to her new home. She found Dante in the kitchen, his head in the refrigerator.
“Hey,” he said as she walked in, slamming the door shut. “We need to go grocery shopping.”
“You brought all our things in?”
“Yep.”
“Then let’s go shopping. We can unpack later.”
With a detour to her bedroom to grab her purse off the bed, she turned to find Dante lounging in the doorway, shoulder pressed against the frame, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What was that all about?”
She frowned, confused. “Martha?”
He nodded.
“She’s home all day. I figure she’ll be a decent source of intel.”
“Good call.”
He didn’t move. His sober expression didn’t change.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Our first interaction with the neighbors went well. You played your role nicely.”
Relief washed over her, but quickly faded when Dante’s expression remained the same. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?”
He opened his mouth, paused, then said, “Don’t get attached to the neighbors.”
“Excuse me?”
“I saw how you and Martha clicked. Getting too close can be...problematic.”
Frustration tangled up her nerves. “You explained all that back at the department when we were prepping for the operation.”
He pushed off the frame, big as life, and stepped a little farther into the room. His dark blue eyes glittered with an emotion she couldn’t decipher. “I made the mistake of trying to be friends with everyone my first time undercover. Thinking if I engaged with enough people, it would give me the answers I needed. I was wrong. It was hard, knowing I was deceiving people for the greater good, so I learned to pare down.” His gaze never wavered. “Focus on those who can truly benefit the operation. If you keep the mission in the forefront, you won’t accidentally let your guard down.”
His advice rankled. Like she had any intention of messing up. She’d trained for this, just like he had. “I was doing my job, Dante. Getting a lay of the land. Seeing who might have information that can work to our advantage. I know better than to get too close.”
To you, or anyone else.
He held his hand up in defense. “Okay. I said my piece. I’ll back off.”
Her shoulder brushed his hard chest as she left the room, his spicy cologne tickling her senses. She ignored how her stomach fluttered, how her chest thumped. She needed some distance between them.
She stormed into the kitchen, hunting for a pen and paper to draw up a shopping list, needing to calm down. He was only trying to help, her inner voice taunted.
Logically, she knew that but didn’t like being treated like a novice. Yes, this might be her first actual undercover operation, but she’d studied and talked to other cops in the field. It was almost as if Dante didn’t trust her instincts.
Dante followed her. “I hit a nerve, didn’t I?”
She slammed a drawer shut. Took deep breaths. She was overreacting. “Yes, to be honest, you did.”
“Look, I was off base. You’re a good detective, Ellie.”
“Then treat me that way.” She gathered her hair in her hand, pulling it off her neck. “I might make a few mistakes, but I would never do anything to put the op in jeopardy. There’s too much at stake here.”
A stillness came over Dante. “Right. Speaking of the promotion.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Is that going to be a problem for us?”
Was it? She hadn’t thought it would, but the reality of going undercover, fighting her infatua
tion for Dante now that they’d be living under the same roof and doing a competent job was a little overwhelming right at this moment. She needed to pull it together.
She dropped her hair over her shoulder. “Sorry. I know you were only trying to help.”
“You are right, though. The promotion is hovering between us.”
“Then we do our best work and the top cop wins.”
“Sure. If you say so.”
He was so exasperating! She wanted to argue the point, have him concede that she was a better fit for the position, but was she? Old insecurities hounded her, but she pushed them away. She had to remain professional until the end. Prove she could take on bigger responsibilities. Show the lieutenant she could handle a promotion. Become a sergeant on merit alone.
Her gaze fell on Dante’s face. His dark blue eyes were shadowed. His lips firmly pressed together. Was he struggling, too? Worried he didn’t have what it took to fill the sergeant position? Was the promise of the promotion going to destroy any kind of a relationship between them? And if so, what should she do about it? Because as much as she wanted the promotion, she also wanted Dante to think highly of her as a professional. Wanted him to be her friend. More, even. And wasn’t that all confusing?
“How about we put talk of the promotion on a shelf,” Dante suggested. “Focus on the here and now. Get some food because I’m starving.”
Her chest heaved with relief. “I’m hungry, too.”
Dante lightened up, putting her back on an even keel. He then ruined her state of mind by saying, “We can do this, Ellie.”
She swallowed hard. Nodded.
He grabbed the truck keys from the counter.
“I sure hope you can cook, because other than my grilling skills, I got nothing.”
Okay. They were back to bantering coworkers. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t perish.”
“Is that a yes or a no on the cooking?”
“I can find my way around a kitchen.”
“Good.” His fingers hooked her arm, eliciting a shiver, as he tugged her to the door. “We’ll get some steaks and I’ll show you my way around a grill.”
“Be still my heart.”
He winked and her stomach dropped.
Professional, Eloise. Be professional.
