She drew a breath, determined to get them on a better footing. “You want the trite answer—that I want to make a difference—or do you want the truth?”
“Truth.” He took a bite and washed it down with another swallow. She watched him lick the crumbs from his lips and stifled the urge to help him.
“I almost quit school when I was sixteen.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her face. “That surprises me.”
“Yeah, given my family. Lawyers R Us.” She grinned.
He chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll bet your mom and dad weren’t thrilled.”
“My mother went ballistic. Dad got that look on his face, the one that says ‘I’m horribly disappointed in you.’ I was bored, fighting with my friends all the time, tired of being Rick, Tom, and Chad’s little sister, couldn’t get a date if my life depended on it, and was convinced there was no good purpose to going to school.”
“Your parents must have changed your mind.”
“Nope. Mrs. Heigl.”
“The Mrs. Heigl that lives on Walnut by the elementary school?”
“Yeah. She was my high school English teacher. She retired four years ago, the same year I graduated from college. I was hired to take her place.”
“So she talked you into staying in school. How?”
“Reading. She gave me books, then we’d discuss them. Lots of romances, mysteries, bestsellers. Not just Shakespeare or Milton. She loved to read and her attitude about it was infectious. She had me write reviews. What I liked and what I didn’t like. Gave me more challenging things to do that made my opinion seem important. Given my mood, I shouldn’t have been receptive. But I was. And we kept it up for the rest of my high school years. Her enthusiasm kept me in school and I want to pass some of that on.”
Uncomfortable with his attention on her, she took her mug to the sink. “Are you close to your family?”
“No.” He leaned forward and gripped his coffee mug, staring into it. His harsh expression muted her next question. Silence fell hard. Meg flushed, not knowing what to say to break the mood. He saved her from having to put another foot in her mouth.
“I fell into being a cop.” He straightened in his chair, propping his elbows behind him on the back of the stool. “Uncle Sam decided I’d be a good military cop. I didn’t much care. I was using the Army as a way to get away from my parents. I discovered I was good at it. Hated military life, though. The moving, never knowing how long I’d be in one place, the deployments. So it was natural to get out and find a police department.”
“How did you end up in Echo Falls?” She held her breath, hoping for an answer that came easy. She got it.
“Met Chief Hudson in Dallas on a case. Then I got shot and decided I wanted to be in a smaller town. He was looking for officers. I wanted to be someplace where I could make a difference, not feel like I was only stemming the tide.”
“I guess we have that in common. I love it here.”
He looked around the kitchen. “You own this house?”
“Yes. It’s all mine.”
He ran his hand over the tiled tabletop. “I’m renting mine from Marla Spooner’s Realty.”
“I knew that. Tom told me, I think.” She tried for nonchalance and hoped she succeeded. Her nerves were too tight to tell. “This place has been a lot of work. It wasn’t in the best shape and I’ve done a lot of it myself with the help of my family.”
Their conversation was like a squeaky wheel meeting a flat tire. Could they talk about anything more mundane? At least they were talking, connecting a bit on a personal level. She wanted to lean across the counter and kiss his lips to see if she tasted like coffee and cookies or hot blazing fire. Was he having the same problem?
He squirmed in his chair, seeming to stay seated out of sheer determination.
“There’s not much for sale around town that doesn’t need a little bit of work, except for maybe the new housing development out on the state highway by the Methodist church.”
“You’ve been looking?”
“Yes. Periodically, Marla comes around with something for me to look at. If I could find something like this, I’d be a homeowner.”
“You’re planning on staying here?”
He gave her a long, steady gaze. Finally, he answered. “Yes. I’m staying.”
His quiet statement in the cozy confines of her kitchen seemed like a promise for things to come and it gave Meg hope.
Meg slipped into her jeans jacket and went in search of her tennis shoes. Saturday morning had dawned bright and sunny and early. Chad had called with an impromptu invitation to Clem’s Restaurant for breakfast. She grabbed her keys and opened the door. The fresh scent in the air made her stop to enjoy how green her grass had turned and the blooming pear trees in her front yard. Easter was a week away. Blustery March had given way to spring, a fact she was thankful for. She loved spring.
She glanced at her watch, realizing how long she’d stood rooted in the view, and shut the door. Halfway down the steps, she stopped. Retracing her steps, she locked up. Ten minutes later she parked next to Chad at Clem’s. The bright morning sun elevated her mood and she lifted her face to the light. Her good mood lasted until she entered Clem’s and saw Tom and Rick sitting with Chad.
Ambushed.
Sighing, she debated ducking behind the potted plants and making a run for it. They were sure to interrogate her about Bret. Tom especially. He had to know a little bit about what was happening.
She stopped herself just as she reached for the door handle. Ducking out would send the wrong message. She loosened her coat and slipped it off her shoulders while making her way to the table. The restaurant was crowded and she called out greetings to a few of her students’ parents and a neighbor or two at the tables.
Tom was the first to see her and rose, letting her slide next to him in the booth.
“Good morning, guys.” She set aside her coat and purse.
Myrna Croft appeared and poured her a cup of coffee. “Boys ordered your usual French toast and bacon. That okay?”
Meg smirked. Not many people got away with calling the Applegate men ‘boys’. “Yeah, that’s good.”
Meg quickly sipped her coffee before plunging in feet first. “Okay. What’s on your minds?”
Tom and Chad both looked at Rick.
Rick picked up a cream container and poured it in his coffee. “Mom and Dad’s thirty-fifth anniversary.”
Surprised, Meg took a moment to catch up with the conversation. “And?”
“We’re trying to decide what to do.”
“Did you talk to Grandma?”
“I did.” Chad shifted to adjust his long legs under the table. “She says it’s up to us to decide what we want to do. She’ll go with whatever we think is best.”
Meg took another sip of the hot coffee and let herself relax. “So any ideas? Party? Trip? An obnoxious, expensive present?”
“That’s what we were just talking about.” Tom said.
“I vote for a party. They went on a trip for their twenty-fifth. And we did the landscaping for their anniversary garden for their thirtieth. I think it’s time to invite all their friends and do a big celebration.” Rick looked at Meg, waiting for agreement.
Gads. That would mean she had to be in charge of all the arrangements. No offense to her brothers, but organizing a party that didn’t involve beer and barbeque was not on any of their resumes.
Chad winked at her. “Come on, Meg. It’ll be fun.
She snorted, fiddling with her spoon. “Says the man who just got married and avoided all the arrangements.”
“We’ll all help,” Rick announced. “That way all the work won’t fall on one person.”
“That’ll be a first,” Meg muttered under her breath.
Rick stared at her. It was the same evil look he’d perfected since birth, the one that always made her capitulate.
Meg shook her finger at them. “All right. But I’m helping Bret with this r
obbery investigation and I’ve got things going on at school that are taking a lot of time, so all of you have to pull your weight.”
Tom put his arm around her shoulder. “Speaking of Bret, what have you done to the poor man?”
“What are you talking about?” Meg squirmed in her seat, ticked that she’d let her guard down.
“I think the man is smitten with you. He’s as distracted as a firefly in a lightning storm. Anything you want to confess?” Tom asked.
Meg blushed and barely stifled the urge to fan her face. “No.”
“That means yes.” Rick’s pleased grin made her want to smack him.
Chad tapped her foot under the table. “Confess, sis.”
She searched for something neutral thing to say. “There is nothing to confess.” Brilliant, Meg. Geez!
“Bret’s expression when he sees you makes a liar out of that statement.” Tom squeezed her shoulder, then removed his arm. “I’m cool with it. Just don’t screw it up.”
“There’s nothing to screw up. We’re working together. He’s not in the market for a relationship.”
Chad laughed. “That means you asked him.” Meg snapped her mouth shut. Rick, Tom, and Chad all grinned like hounds ready to fall on a meaty bone. She was saved from further probing by the arrival of their breakfast. Myrna arranged their plates filled with French toast, pancakes, eggs, and hash browns on the table, refilled their coffee, and dropped the check on the edge of the table.
Determined to get the focus off her, she went back to her parent’s anniversary. “Where do you want to have this party and is it going to be a surprise?”
“Ah, she changes the subject.” Chad took a bite of his pancakes.
“Shut up.” Meg spread butter over her French toast and poured the syrup.
“He’s a good man, Meg. And after all the riffraff you’ve been dating, it’s a nice change.” Tom took a bite of his eggs.
Chad paused with a bite half-way to his mouth. “Yeah. You could do worse. Wait a minute. That’s right. You have. I mean, Trevor Dupree?”
She set her fork down. “I know who I’ve dated, guys.”
Rick frowned. “I thought Dad was going to have a stroke over Trevor in particular.”
Meg stiffened in her seat. “Why?”
“Dad’s been subbing for the prosecutor. Six months ago, he prosecuted Dupree for a DUI. He was an arrogant ass during the trial,” Rick answered. “There’ve been rumors about other stuff, too. Mainly, that he lost his job at Carlsson’s, but still seems to have plenty of money.”
Meg stared at him, caution coming to her rescue. She wanted to ask what other kinds of things, but that would lead to questioning why she wanted to know. If her brothers found out Trevor had spiked her drinks at the Valentine’s dance, he’d be a dead man. It had been hard enough to get Bret to drop it. “Well, he’s history now. I’ve moved on.”
“To Bret?” Chad grinned.
Meg kicked him under the table and took a bite of her bacon.
Tom came to her rescue, changing the subject back to their parents. “I’d like the party to be a surprise. I was thinking, too, that maybe in the City Park under the gazebo at dusk would be nice.”
Surprised, Meg thought it over. “That’s actually a great idea. If we can get October weather to cooperate. Torches, candles, twinkling lights, finger foods, champagne. That’s a great setting.”
Over the remainder of breakfast, the four of them hashed a variety of ideas and, true to Rick’s word, they divided up the workload and agreed to meet at Chad’s in a month. Rick picked up the check for all of them, so Meg quickly said goodbye and made her way back to her car.
Tom was right behind her. “Meg, wait a sec.” Meg didn’t want to wait, but she stopped anyway and turned.
Tom paused next to her. “Don’t get your back up. We’d all have to be blind not to notice how you two are dancing around each other. I say go for it.”
Meg shook her head, tempted to deny again, then gave up. “I’ve already thrown myself at him, already told him in specific terms that I was interested, and each time he’s said no. I think that puts the ball in his court, not mine.”
Tom put a hand on each shoulder and shook her. “You’re made of tougher stuff than that.”
Meg sighed. “I can’t force it, Tom. It’ll chase him away.”
“From the way he looks at you, I don’t think you’re chasing him away. I think the opposite is true. Please tell me you’re serious about him.”
She chewed her lip. “I’m serious. In love serious.” She hadn’t meant to admit it, but it seemed like a petty thing not to be able to say.
Tom grinned at her, not looking surprised.
“Has he said anything about me?”
“Not a thing.” Tom hugged her and she held on for a bit. When he released her, she had to swallow hard against the emotion pounding at the back of her throat.
Tom fished his keys from his pocket. “I think it would be a good thing to be loved by my sister. Don’t give up. He deserves you and you deserve him.”
Bolstered by the sentiment, Meg waved goodbye and mused all the way home on how one conversation could change what seemed like a hopeless rain to possibilities of sunshine and rainbows. If Tom was right, Bret was close to reaching for her and she intended to be right where he could catch her.
~~CHAPTER EIGHT~~
The sun was setting when Bret pulled into his driveway. His normal Thursday shift had been extraordinarily busy and he was dead tired. He’d covered an accident, a domestic disturbance, a dispute at the lumberyard, and two ten-year-old boys playing hooky from school. Then he’d substituted for Dana in dispatch while she’d gone to the dentist. She had been as cranky as a porcupine when she came back. Of course, letting Doc Cunningham drill in his mouth usually set him off, too.
He was dying for about eight hours prone on his bed without his mother calling. He could only cross his fingers and hope. He walked up the sidewalk, searching through his ring for the key to his house. A belated tingle of awareness made him pause on the sidewalk. Meg sat shrouded in the growing shadows, perched on a wooden chair next to his front door. Her green skirt and blouse complimented her blonde hair. He glanced around seeking out her car. It was parked at the curb next to his neighbor’s sedan.
Bret sighed. He wasn’t up for this. He couldn’t fight her off. He was tired of fighting her off. He was tired of his philosophy on relationships, tired of telling himself he couldn’t have her. The memory of her in his house last time was like a festering wound.
He stopped on the bottom step.
She straightened in the chair. “I left you a message at work, but you didn’t call.”
He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out the notes that had been stacked on his desk. He thumbed through them. Meg’s was about halfway through. “Sorry. Busy day.”
“I’ve got a few more details on Esteban for you.”
He shoved the notes back in his pocket, and tried to rub the fatigue from the back of his neck. “Their house in the canyon is abandoned. No one lives there. We’ve checked his relatives. All claim they haven’t seen him. We’ve looked up everyone listed in his contact file at the high school, even his old boss at the bowling alley. I talked to Diego James again, too. Can’t find Esteban anywhere. We’re out of leads.”
She came down a step and stopped so his eyes were directly in line with her cleavage. Her perfume wafted around him until he was hard and aching.
“I talked to his math teacher. She said she thought he was living up at the reservoir with an uncle. Supposedly this uncle recently moved here from El Paso.”
“This uncle have a name?”
“She didn’t know. But it’s the trailer park up there.”
“There’s over a dozen trailers in that park, Meg.”
“I know.”
Bret rubbed a hand over his eyes. “We can check.”
“You look tired.” Meg leaned toward him as if to touch, to rub his tired muscles.
“Would you like me to make you something to eat?”
He’d like something, but food didn’t have much to do with it.
He’d done a lot of thinking over the last two weeks since he’d turned her down. Thinking about how right it felt to sit with her family for Sunday dinners and how good it felt to sit next to her at those dinners. He’d dissected his relationship with his mother and his whole philosophy on relationships. He kept going over the same ground and coming back to one thing.
He wanted her. Wanted to feel her warmth next to him, wanted to put his hands on her and make her his. Fools game, but there it was.
He slipped a hand behind her and pulled her down the next step into his arms. She came willingly, although the puzzled look on her face told him she had no idea what he was planning.
Good. He had no idea either.
Then he did something he promised himself he wasn’t ever going to do.
He kissed her.
It wasn’t like the kisses she’d given him at the Valentine’s Dance and in Olivia’s kitchen. It was a sex kiss. All teeth and tongue, moans and sighs. Meg should have slugged him, especially considering they were standing on the front porch in plain view of the neighbors. But she didn’t.
Instead, she melted into him. Her lean body molded to the hard planes of his, her curves fitting against him like the finest tailored suit. Her mouth softened, her sweet tongue stroking his in skilled bold sweeps. Her hands lightly rubbed his back from shoulder to waist. He flashed cold, then hot. He wanted to pull back, to rethink this folly, but her mouth nibbled at his, easing his need to devour into something playful, something cherishing. His defenses fell like tissue paper against a flame. He forced himself to sip, to savor, and he managed just that until Meg slipped her hands between his belt and spine.
He broke the kiss. “I can’t walk away from you. I should. I need to. I can’t give you what you want.”
“How about you let me worry about what I want,” she whispered. “I promise I won’t ask anything of you that you can’t give. “ She crossed her heart. Her eyes burned with truth.
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