Cavanaugh Rules: Cavanaugh RulesCavanaugh Reunion

by Marie Ferrarella

  Shrugging, he looked away, pretending as if something else had caught his attention—rather than her. “Something like that.”

  “How’s that going for you?” she asked, curious. Tom hadn’t had much to tell her about Abilene. Maybe she could find out from the horse’s mouth.

  “For the most part, okay.” He looked back at her. Nope, no doubt about it. He was attracted to her. More than just a little. And seeing her like this, with so much skin to peruse, just brought this fact home to him that much faster. “But there’s this one woman who’s really driving me crazy. It’s like she’s gotten under my skin. You know,” he continued in a lower voice, “like an itch I just can’t scratch.”

  Had it suddenly gotten warmer in here? Had to be the press of all these bodies milling around, using up the oxygen, she told herself. “What’ll happen if you do scratch it?”

  And hadn’t he been asking himself that same question since he’d first laid eyes on her? “Most likely it’ll be like nothing I’ve ever experienced before—and quite possibly mark the end of civilization as we know it.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t scratch that itch,” she told him. Because, tempting though it seemed right at this moment, they were partners and things could get very awkward if they did give in to the moment. “If it means saving the world, and all.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded loftily. Then he went on to admit, “But I have been thinking about scratching an awful lot lately.”

  That was the exact moment that she felt her lips go dry. Which made talking more difficult. She had to all but push out the words.

  “Keep me posted on that.” She tried clearing her throat and even the sound seemed to get stuck.

  “Don’t worry,” Abilene promised her quietly, “you’ll be the first to know.” Without thinking, he put his hand lightly against her back, meaning to guide her into the living room.

  Kendra fought hard not to shiver in response to the single stroke she could have sworn she felt against the small of her back.

  Served her right for not wearing enough clothing, she silently chided herself. But then, she had a feeling that she would have felt that—whatever that was—even if dressed in a heavy suit of armor.

  The next moment, another group of Cavanaughs—this particular one composed of twenty to twenty-eight-year olds—converged and surrounded her partner and her. Within less than a heartbeat, it felt as if they were assimilated into the group’s collective.

  Like the classic science fiction line, resistance was futile. She’d discovered that the last couple of times she’d been invited to one of Andrew’s “unofficial” parties. Not only that, she always seemed to leave the party a couple of pounds heavier and with a slightly shifted perspective on at least one if not more things.

  Since this was a more structured party, she had a feeling she had even less of a chance of remaining on the outside, looking in.

  And the thing of it was, she was surprised to realize, that she had less and less of a desire to be that outsider.

  Chapter 10

  Close to ten hours into the party and the crowd had only thinned out slightly.

  Some of the younger Cavanaughs with very small children had said their good-nights and then gone home. But a lot of the others with sleepy children had availed themselves of portable cribs or one of the beds that had been left standing in rooms that Andrew’s five adult children had long since vacated.

  This way, tired grandchildren and grand-nephews-and-nieces had somewhere to lie down and, most likely, recharge their batteries. It was an exceedingly family-friendly house, Brian had told her during one of her first visits, and always had been.

  Right now, she found it difficult to move around without tripping over some member of the family, or, in some cases, a member-to-be.

  And everyone, apparently, seemed to be in excellent spirits. There were no arguments, no nasty flares of temper over some sensitive subject. As a general rule, everyone within the Cavanaugh domain seemed to get along.

  She supposed, if she had to be part of a larger family than the one she’d been born into, this one wasn’t all that bad.

  And she’d never seen her father looking happier. It was as if he’d finally found that “missing piece” of himself he’d once told her about. That missing piece that made him feel so restless sometimes. Maybe somehow subconsciously, he’d felt he wasn’t where he was supposed to be when he was growing up in the Cavelli household.

  Not that he had cut that family off when his real identity had come to light. That wasn’t her father’s way and it wasn’t theirs, either. She and her siblings still touched base with the aunts, uncles and cousins they’d known all their lives.

  Their family had just expanded, her father had told her more than once.

  But watching him tonight, Kendra knew that this was where her father felt he belonged. And that was good enough for her. She made up her mind then and there to change her name to Cavanaugh.

  Permanently.

  “Do you think that maybe we should get going?” Abilene suggested, coming up behind her. The barbecue had been over for quite a while now. Everyone was stuffed to the gills and while it wasn’t late, it had been a very long day. He looked at her, waiting for her reaction. “What do you think?”

  Kendra was surprised that he’d left the decision up to her. Maybe the man wasn’t such a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal after all. And she could see that he did genuinely care about his mother. She’d already given him points for that.

  “I think maybe you’re right,” she agreed. Then, scanning the immediate area, she asked, “Where’s your mother?”

  Abilene realized that he’d gotten so caught up with both Kendra and the Cavanaughs, he’d lost track of his mother.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking around. He thought for a minute. “I haven’t seen her since just after we sat down to eat.”

  “Which time?” Kendra asked.

  There had been wave after endless wave of food. If she continued attending these little impromptu feeding fests, she would either have to have all her clothes let out or her mouth sewn up.

  He was still scanning the area for his mother. Her particular color of strawberry-blond hair tended to stand out. So far, though, he hadn’t seen her. “The first time,” he told Kendra.

  “Well, don’t worry, your mother has to be around here somewhere. Nobody could have possibly made off with her in a house full of cops,” she assured him.

  It took a little while, weaving their way through the various clusters of family members and gently extricating themselves from conversations that threatened to draw them in, but they finally found Sabrina. She was in the backyard, several yards past the patio. She was sitting on the porch swing, rocking.

  And Matt immediately saw that his mother wasn’t alone.

  “My father seems to be bending your mother’s ear,” Kendra observed as they came closer to the couple.

  “She doesn’t look like she seems to mind,” Matt noted.

  Sean and Sabrina appeared completely oblivious to their approach. Despite the swirling din of noise coming from the house and other parts of the yard, the two single parents might as well have been alone.

  From where they stood, Kendra thought, Abilene’s mother gave the impression of hanging on her father’s every word and he, in turn, looked as if he was trying very hard to entertain her.

  Was this the start of something? Or just an evening’s interlude? She knew which side she was rooting for. Her father had been very vocal about getting her “back on the playing field,” but deliberately deflected any of her comments about the fact that he had not done the same after her mother died. He merely shrugged and said that once was enough for him.

  Maybe that had changed, she thought, watching as Sabrina threw her head back and laughed at something her father had said.

  “Think they might need a chaperone?” Matt asked her. She couldn’t quite tell if he was kidding.

  Kendra smiled. “This
might be the best thing for both of them,” she commented with growing enthusiasm. “My dad’s certainly not going to make off with any of your mother’s money or things, and she might just remind him that he’s more than simply an active part of the police department and a father.”

  When Abilene looked at her quizzically, she elaborated. “When my mother died, a side of him seemed to just vanish. But obviously, it just went into hiding,” she said with a satisfied smile. “It’s nice to see him embrace that part of himself again—even for a little while.”

  She missed hearing her father whistle. He always used to whistle when her mother was alive. When she died, he just stopped, as if he didn’t have anything that happy, that carefree to whistle about any more. And the light had gone out of his eyes.

  “I hate to break this up, Mom,” Matt said as they reached the couple, “but Good here wants to get going.”

  Sean looked up at his daughter. “ ‘Good’?” he questioned, more amused than confused.

  She instantly thought of the way her father might have interpreted the nickname. Horrified—this wasn’t the kind of thing adult children shared with their parents even if they were very close—she was quick to offer up a denial.

  “Oh, no, it’s not what you think—”

  Sean stopped her before she could get wound up, holding his hands up in front of him as if to block the onslaught of words. “I’m not thinking a thing,” he told her innocently. “And don’t worry, Matt, I can take your mother home.” He flashed a smile at his companion on the swing who appeared contented enough to begin purring. “Most likely it’s on my way.”

  “Actually, it’s not—” Kendra began, then stopped abruptly. She didn’t want to throw cold water on whatever it was that her father was planning. “—Unless you take the scenic route,” she amended. She looked at her new partner. “Okay, Abilene, I guess it’s just you and me in the car. Just like every other day,” she added with a deliberately weary sigh.

  Apparently, Abilene couldn’t help himself. His eyes skimmed along her torso and Kendra could have sworn she felt his gaze touching her bare skin. Touching her in places that definitely increased the heat level.

  “I don’t know about that,” Abilene commented. “I don’t remember you ever coming into work dressed—or undressed—like that.” Appreciation resonated in his voice.

  “It’s a barbecue,” she told him. “Not a spring formal.”

  “Definitely nothing formal about what you’re wearing,” he agreed. Turning back to his mother, he grinned. “See, I told you that you’d have a good time. Next time, you’ll know not to doubt me.” Leaning down, he gave her a quick kiss to the cheek. “Don’t stay out too late.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “Last time I looked, I was the parent, you were the child.”

  “Look harder,” Matt advised, the grin on his lips widening. Turning away, he began to walk toward the house with Kendra. “Your father going to be all right?”

  That was not the question she thought he would ask. “Your mother’s not exactly a femme fatale out to bilk him of his life savings,” she pointed out.

  “No, but she does tend to respond to kindness rather quickly.” He laughed under his breath. “She might have them going steady before the morning light.”

  Kendra found the old-fashioned term almost sweet. This man definitely had layers to him. “It’s nice of you to be concerned, but my dad could really use a little excitement in his life that doesn’t involve piecing together dead bodies or reconstructing homemade bombs. I think it’s kind of nice, really,” she told him.

  Entering the house through the sliding-glass door, she looked around for the chief. Family or no family, she wouldn’t feel right about leaving without thanking him first.

  “What do you think is kind of nice?” Matt prodded when she just left the sentence hanging there.

  “Flirting at their age. Or whatever the current term is for what they were doing.” She shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “I’m a little out of practice these days.”

  “Right.” There was no missing the sarcastic tone surrounding the single word. It all but vibrated and was a total match with the smirk on his lips.

  “I am,” she protested.

  Finding Andrew, Kendra wove her way over to that side of the living room. The former police chief and all-around amazing chef was sitting back on an overly large sofa, his wife nestled beside him, and both were engaged in a conversation with half a dozen other members of their family.

  “A hottie like you?” Abilene mocked in a low voice only she could hear.

  “—who’s consumed with her work,” Kendra tagged on.

  They both thanked their host and then withdrew, promising to be at the next gathering which, according to what Andrew called after them, would be there “before you know it.”

  “Only if you want to be,” Abilene said, picking up the thread of their conversation the second they turned away from Andrew and the others. “Why do you want to be consumed by your work to that extent?”

  The night air was cool in comparison to the way it had been earlier that day. The lack of humidity at this hour made it feel rather pleasant. It was a good night for a walk, Kendra thought. But, because they had arrived fairly early, the car was parked not too far down the street.

  Kendra walked quickly, as if to distance herself from his question.

  As if that was possible.

  Abilene was waiting for an answer. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was.

  She tried to go on the attack. “Aren’t you getting a little too personal here?” she countered.

  “Personal is if I asked you what you weighed or what you had under those short-shorts besides an incredible pair of legs.” His eyes seemed to be gleaming as he allowed himself to envision her wearing even less. “This is taking an active interest in my partner’s psychological profile.”

  She laughed shortly. “Oh, is that what it is?”

  “Yes,” he answered, as somber as if he was stating his case before a judge. “If somewhere down the line, something suddenly makes you snap, I need to know if I should be prepared for that burnout mode—or not.”

  She didn’t take offense at his scenario. He was just trying to rattle her cage—and that was rarely done these days.

  “You could always change partners,” Kendra said.

  He inclined his head, as if to acknowledge changing as a possibility—if he wanted it to be.

  “Let’s say I don’t want to,” he told her.

  Releasing the locks on the car, she opened the car door on her side.

  Well, that was a surprise. She’d just assumed that he wanted to be away from her as much as she told herself she wanted to be away from him. Who knew?

  “You’re not going to drop this, are you?” she asked him.

  Abilene got in on his side and watched her for a long moment before answering. “What do you think?”

  She blew out a breath. “I think I should have told you I was dating someone exclusively.”

  He shook his head. “I already know you’re not.”

  About to turn the ignition, her eyes opened wide. “You asked around about me?” There were few things she hated as much as someone prying into her background. That she had tried to do the very same thing with Abilene was beside the point.

  He saw the quick flash of temper and did what he could to head it off and set her straight. “No, but if you were ‘dating someone exclusively,’ he would have been here and the two of you would have been by to pick my mother and me up.”

  She snapped her fingers as if that was a stunning revelation. Actually, it was a pretty clever deduction on his part—especially considering that she’d expected not all that much from him.

  “By George, you are a real detective, aren’t you?” she cracked.

  He took the comment, as he took everything else, in stride. “Told you I was.” He waited a beat as she began to drive down the street, then continued with his missio
n to unravel his partner. “So?” he prodded.

  She sat up a little straighter, bracing her shoulders as if the words she was about to say wouldn’t relax her. When she spoke, it was in a slow, hoarse whisper, as if her voice would break at any moment.

  “My fiancé killed himself on the day we were supposed to get married.” She couldn’t bring herself to refer to it as their wedding day, but it would have happened had Jason not been trapped in that awful fire.

  “What?” He needed details and did his best to try to coax them out of her. “Wouldn’t it have been easier just to cancel the wedding? Just as quick and a lot less messy?”

  She wasn’t saying anything. Maybe his comment had been too flip. He debated retreating and decided that this would always be out there until she told him the whole story. They had to deal with it and then sweep it away. Curiosity didn’t motivate him. He wanted to help. For the first time since he’d met her, she wasn’t the feisty little powerhouse, plowing over him. She was a woman who had been badly wounded.

  “There’s more to it,” he told her simply. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Her eyes were stinging badly. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep the tears at bay. She didn’t want to cry in front of this man, and yet, there was nowhere to go inside her.

  “What I’m not saying is that Jason was a great guy. We’d dated all through high school and all he ever wanted to be was a fireman,” she said, remembering the young man he had been. The one who had captured her heart so completely.

  “So he became one.” And with that, she thought, his fate had been sealed. “He went at his job each and every day like the hero that he was.” She pressed her lips together, searching for strength to continue, to finish the story. “On what turned out to be his last day on the job, four of his buddies were trapped on the third floor of a crumbling apartment building. Jason had just come out with this old man he’d rescued. He didn’t even stop to catch his breath, he just went charging back into the building.”