Falling for the Cop

by Dana Nussio

  More intimate than any kiss, this one simple look touched her everywhere and nowhere, a promise filled to bursting with absolute trust. Just as she started to bend forward for another taste of those lips she’d sworn off forever only two days before, Shane untangled their fingers. A protest slipped from her lungs as he broke the connection, but then he only turned her hand so it was palm up, fitted their fingertips together and then traced down the length of her fingers and then across the hills and valleys of her palm.

  Her breath caught. Like a guitar strummed only once, her body reverberated in the aftermath of his touch. She wanted... Oh, she didn’t even know what she wanted, but she was convinced that she would die if he didn’t touch her again. If he didn’t do it soon, she would take matters into her own hands.

  At the rumble of a garage door opening, Natalie jumped back, the stark garage light catching her in the act of wanting. Nearly catching her doing something about it.

  “I thought you’d never get here,” Jamie Donovan said as he strolled through the garage, clearly missing that he’d interrupted something.

  “Busy night,” Shane said simply.

  “Thanks for the text to let me know you were still out gallivanting. Otherwise I would have called the police by now.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Oh, I forgot. We are—”

  “The police,” Shane chimed with him as if they’d all delivered that particular punch line before.

  Natalie didn’t even bother trying to laugh. It would only have sounded flat. She should have been grateful for the interruption. He’d probably saved her from doing something she might regret. So why did she feel annoyed enough to consider assaulting a police officer?

  Jamie’s arms crossed, and he started rubbing his upper arms. “It’s freezing out here. Aren’t you two cold?”

  “Not too bad,” Shane said.

  The look he shot Natalie was so heated that she no longer needed a coat at all.

  “Sorry to be the hovering help here, but you should really get inside before you get sick,” Jamie told Shane before turning to Natalie. “Would you like to come inside, too? I can make coffee.”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. I have to get home.”

  Straight to a cold shower, if she knew what was best for her. But that ship had long since sailed, and she wasn’t waving frantically for it to return to shore.

  “Yeah, I should be getting to bed, anyway,” Shane said.

  He leveled a look at Natalie that would make her coat unnecessary for the whole drive home.

  “We’ll continue our conversation later. Okay, Natalie?”

  She cleared her throat. “Sure. Fine.”

  “I’ll be in the clinic tomorrow.”

  “Great,” Jamie answered for her then crossed to the back of Shane’s wheelchair. Though he’d exited through the garage, he guided the chair up the ramp to the front door.

  From the slightly higher slant, Shane glanced over at Natalie and smiled. Nervous tension and anticipation filled her.

  Oh, they would continue that conversation, all right. She suspected, however, that when they did, there wouldn’t be a whole lot of talking.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “YOU DID IT!”

  At the shrill sound of Deborah’s voice, Natalie started and this time turned fully to look at them. Immediately, she was disappointed. As many times as she’d sneaked glances at Shane this morning, she couldn’t believe she’d managed to miss seeing him take those first few hard-fought steps as he held his own weight using the parallel bars.

  “Good for you,” she called out as applause filled the room. She didn’t even care that she hadn’t been the PT working with him when he’d done it.

  The veins in his neck were visible from the exertion, and the hair at his temples appeared damp, but he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. He had every right to be. He’d worked hard for this. There was more work ahead for him, but he deserved the chance to enjoy this moment.

  “You go, Shane!” Anne-Marie called from the hallway leading to the front office.

  Even their boss, Meg Story, who’d emerged from her office and her spreadsheets for a rare walk through the gym, paused to clap against the file she held. She turned and caught Natalie’s gaze, giving her a knowing look. At least Meg didn’t know the whole story. She probably thought she’d failed in her attempt to help Natalie push through a personal fear, but that was better than knowing that her PT had been making out with a client.

  Every look she’d exchanged with Shane today had been potent enough to make her blush. A dance. That was the only way she could describe the images those looks inspired. A slow dance with his arms drawing her close as they shared his chair, the music soft and carrying a beat so sensual, its rhythm full of its own promises. Each rock of her hip. Each gentle sway. It all felt like a prelude to a—

  She stopped herself and looked away as she’d been forced to do so many times today, just to catch her breath. She jotted down notes on her new client, a seventy-seven-year-old female, post-op from a meniscus repair. With so much electricity in the room, was there any chance that other PTs or clients could have missed it?

  After Deborah helped him return to his chair, Shane waved at everyone and even pressed his hand to his belly, leaning forward in an exaggerated bow.

  “All right, Mr. Performer. Let’s get back to work,” Deborah told him.

  Natalie turned her back on them to finish updating her patient’s file. Maybe it was a good thing that she had no more clients today and could leave when she finished. Since last night she’d been unable to get Shane off her mind. With him only thirty feet away in the gym, she would never be able to stop thinking about him. She realized with a shock that she didn’t even want to.

  After Shane left the clinic, Natalie could finally breathe again, but the space felt empty without him there. She moved to one of the laptop stands and input the rest of her notes, her work moving more quickly than it had all day. Minutes later, she was bundled in her coat and hat, ready to brave the cold again.

  Skipping the elevator, she took the stairs from the third floor, emerging near the building’s east waiting area. Other patients waited near the exit for their drivers to pull into the circular drive outside the revolving door, but she only noticed one of them.

  Although Shane was parked next to the bench just inside the door, his coat was unbuttoned, and he wasn’t wearing a hat, as if he expected to be there for a while.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” he said.

  As a sexy smile lifted Shane’s lips, Natalie swallowed. Would she ever just be able to see him without feeling that immediate jolt to her system?

  “Didn’t you leave a while ago?” she asked, though she knew exactly when he’d left. Probably to the minute. “What are you still doing here?”

  “The downside to having state police troopers providing your free transportation is that emergency calls trump your taxi service. There’s a three-car pileup on US-23. Can you believe they picked something like that over time with me?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “What’s wrong with them? So... I guess you’ll be here awhile then?” She shoved her hands in her pockets, stalling when she should have waved and hurried out the door.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Who’s picking you up this time?”

  Her thoughts flashed to the night before, when Jamie Donovan opened the door, either clueless about the moment he’d interrupted or the owner of an amazing poker face. She hoped he wouldn’t be the one arriving today and announcing that he’d just won at cards.

  “Delia Morgan. You haven’t met her.” He glanced to the window and then back to her. “Oh, I keep forgetting to call her by her married name. Peterson.”

  Her gaze met his. Had he added that last part just for her? She cleared her throat. �
�You did great earlier.”

  He grinned again. “I was sure I was going to fall again, and I did so much of the work with my arms and shoulders that they’re killing me now.”

  “Nothing like bench-pressing your whole body weight.”

  “More like doing dips.”

  “Whatever you say, but you were moving your feet, as well. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I guess.”

  He sat higher in his chair now, as if with those few steps he’d restored some of his confidence. That would help with his recovery, as well.

  She glanced out into the parking lot, filled with snow-covered cars. “Do you have any idea how long it’s going to be before they can pick you up?”

  He looked from the parking lot to her. “Well, I was wondering...”

  Shane didn’t finish, but the question hung between them anyway. And his gaze, just as it had been earlier when the broad expanse of the gym had separated them, was warm and direct. She looked down at her boots, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

  “I mean...it’s okay if—” he began again.

  Her head lifted, and she waved away his suggestion with a brush of her hand. “Sure. No problem. I have the van today. I can take you home.”

  “Great. I’ll let Delia know she’s off the hook.” He bent to send the text and then pulled on his hat and buttoned his coat.

  “You’re lucky I got off early. I mean, that I didn’t have any more clients today. You could have been waiting for a ride all afternoon.”

  She was talking too fast, but she couldn’t slow her words. Her cheeks burned as she pressed the square button with the wheelchair symbol. The handicap-accessible door next to the revolving one opened wide.

  “Yeah. Lucky. I really appreciate the ride.”

  Natalie had to smile over his effort. She wasn’t the only one pretending a ride was the only thing he’d asked for. The only thing she’d just agreed to.

  Outside, she helped him settle his chair onto the lift before rounding the back end of the van and climbing in the driver’s side.

  Shane didn’t speak as she turned the ignition. And to ensure he remained silent, Natalie turned on the radio, selecting an oldies station. If either of them said a word out loud about what they had in mind, she would probably chicken out and drop him off at his house, leaving all of the what ifs in the snowy tire tracks on his driveway.

  But she didn’t want to back down now. She didn’t want to run or hide or second-guess. Each traffic light drew her closer to Shane’s house. To Shane’s bed.

  She’d never wanted anything more.

  * * *

  NATALIE COULDN’T HAVE looked more nervous as she hung up their coats in the front closet. Shane had to smile at that. At least she was as nervous as he was.

  “Do you want me to make you some tea before I—”

  She stopped herself before she said go. They both knew she wasn’t going anywhere for a while. At least he hoped they’d agreed on where they would be and what they would be doing. He’d thought of little else during that whole ride home as the radio had blared with some surfer’s search for a perfect wave.

  “It’s freezing in here.” Natalie rubbed her upper arms over her navy scrub top even though her white base layer covered her arms to her wrists. “Where’s your thermostat? Let me check the temperature.”

  She shot past him though the heat control was in the front hall, where she’d just been.

  “The temperature’s fine. Natalie, stop.”

  She did. In the doorway between the foyer and the living room, she stood, but she didn’t turn back to him.

  “Come here.”

  The command sounded strange in his ears. She must have thought so, too, because she only turned and stared without moving closer to him or backing away. What was he doing? That wasn’t him. Or at least if he’d ever been that guy, he wasn’t anymore.

  “Please,” he said in a lower voice.

  This time she did move.

  Toward him.

  When she finally stood in front of him, her arms pressed tightly at her sides, her gaze on the door as if she might bolt, he reached for her hand. She allowed him to lift it, but she didn’t step closer. Didn’t rush to him. She simply stared down at their hands and waited. Shane swallowed as he realized she was leaving whatever happened next in his hands, and even if everything else about him was different now, he still remembered how to use those.

  With a gentle tug, he pulled her toward him until her leg pressed against the side of his footplate. His next move might have gone better if he’d remembered to lock down his wheels, but as it was, when he pulled again, the chair spun to the right, and she landed across his lap in an unceremonious plop.

  “Umph.” He cleared his throat. “Now, in my mind that was going to be a really smooth move.”

  As if to emphasize how far it was from that, Natalie chuckled. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  She reached behind her and pushed down the lock on one of the wheels. He locked the other one himself.

  When she turned to face him, he shook his head. “No, I had something far more pleasant in mind.”

  Her laughter died, and she watched for another cue from him. He didn’t make her wait long.

  Shane lifted his hand to her mouth and traced his thumb over that tiny, delicious line at the center of her lower lip. The way her mouth softened and opened for him was almost his undoing. He squeezed his eyes shut and sank his front teeth into his own lip to regain control. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and continued his exploration. He skimmed his fingertip over the soft curves of her lips until he brushed the dampness just inside.

  He couldn’t wait any longer, and judging from the impatient little moan that escaped from her throat, he wasn’t the only one. Removing his hand, he replaced it with his mouth in a move more desperate than smooth. He’d tasted her before, and yet her silky lips still came as a surprise. So pliant. Sweet. And she wasn’t pulling away. Instead, she was sinking into him, her fingers sliding over his biceps and shoulders to link behind his neck. His arms wrapped around her, and he tugged her closer still, as much as the chair would allow.

  He shifted his hand over the curve of her shoulder and down her side, brushing his fingertips along the rounded underside of her breast. He wanted to call out in frustration when she lowered her arm, but she only turned to offer him better access and kept on kissing him. Spreading his fingers wide, he filled his hand with her soft feminine flesh. Her breaths came in short, delicious puffs.

  Oh, he remembered this, the amazing feel of a woman in his arms. But had it ever been this good? Had every moment been a precious discovery like the ones he was savoring now? Had he experienced this same desire to know a woman’s body in intimate detail, to coax sweet sighs from her rather than worrying about his own pleasure? He didn’t even have to answer those questions, because it was obvious that everything was different with Natalie Keaton.

  Shane slid his hand beneath the hem of her scrub shirt and base layer. He knew he shouldn’t rush, but her skin was too soft, her curves too enticing. When, at last, his fingers slipped beneath her lacy bra, she cried out into his mouth. He tasted her desire while trying to ignore his body’s response. He leaned his head back and watched her until her eyes opened, the caramel cheeks stained pink.

  “We’ll be more comfortable in there.” He gestured with his thumb to the hall that led to his bedroom.

  “Do you need me to...?”

  He shook his head. Maybe he couldn’t lift her into his arms right now like some hero in a chick flick, but he could do this. If he moved really slowly.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  She was asking only about hitching a ride in his wheelchair, but a seed of doubt about the bigger picture tiptoed inside his thou
ghts, as well. Was wanting this to happen with every cell of his being enough to overcome such obvious obstacles?

  “Of course it is,” he said anyway.

  “I mean, it’s probably not safe.” As if to emphasize her point, her foot tapped the hallway wall. “And you’re working your arms twice as hard.”

  “Twice?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I need the workout.”

  He smiled. This was about her insecurities rather than his. But because his were just as real and building, he focused on working his way down the hall.

  “Your arms already have to be sore from your session earlier.”

  “That was nothing.”

  After what felt like an hour, he reached his bedroom doorway.

  “Better duck.”

  She shifted closer, drawing in her legs and head. Her throaty laughter rumbled against his chest. He chuckled with her as they made it past the doorjamb and into the room without calamity. But when his chair reached the foot of the bed, he stopped. The rare afternoon sunshine filtering in through the window and stretching across the covers only added a stark spotlight to his dilemma.

  Why hadn’t he thought of this before? This wasn’t as easy as getting from the living room to the bedroom. How was he supposed to move her from the chair onto the bed without both of them landing on the floor? Or without having to ask her for help. Now. At a time like this.

  No matter how much he wanted her, maybe this was a bad idea. He wasn’t ready. Maybe he never would be. Just when he needed to draw from a well of raw masculinity and years of experience, he felt uncertain, ill equipped.

  What happened to that invincibility he’d felt after taking his first steps today? Why did she even want him when he couldn’t—No, she deserved better than this. Better than a broken cop who might never put all of his pieces back together. His gaze lowered to the floor.

  “So...what’s going on, Shane?”