Do You Take This Cop?

by Beth Andrews

  Hopping over the damn thing, she poured herself a cup of sanity.

  Cup in hand, Faith stepped back over the toolbox and crossed to the mini fridge. Her choices were limited to half a ham-and-Swiss sandwich from yesterday or strawberry yogurt. Cold snot, hmm? She chose the sandwich.

  As she chewed, the knots in her shoulders dissolved. At least the worst was over. It had to be. Her day couldn’t possibly get any crappier.

  She heard the back door open. “Hey, Faith.” A familiar masculine voice. “How’s it going?”

  She viciously bit into her sandwich. There went her theory, blown all to bits. Guess she shouldn’t have tempted fate.

  All she had to do was remain in character. Be polite, say hello and act as if she wasn’t, at this very moment and every moment, terrified of someone—especially this someone—finding out her secret. Resigned, she slowly faced Britney’s older brother.

  There was no denying Nick Coletti was good-looking. That is if you liked tall, broad-shouldered guys with wavy dark hair, bittersweet-chocolate-colored eyes and Roman features. Her tastes had always run toward men in designer suits over ones in snug T-shirts, faded jeans and a tool belt hanging low on narrow hips.

  Too bad she’d also chosen men based on the size of their bank accounts instead of what kind of morals they had.

  “I’m fine,” she answered, sounding as prim as her husband’s uptight secretary. “And you?”

  He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. “Couldn’t be better.”

  So what if his smile did funny things to her? All that proved was that she was female. She hung her head so her hair hid her face as she fought for composure. What made her a nervous wreck was that, instead of a tool belt, the man usually wore a holster and badge.

  “Great,” she mumbled, squeezing the sandwich out of shape. Reaching over to tear off a paper towel, she knocked the roll over. Nick caught it in one hand before it hit the floor.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, handing it to her. “You seem a bit—” her skin prickled under his scrutiny “—flustered.”

  Yes, he’d flustered her. How crazy was that? Used to be a time when she flustered men.

  She ripped off a towel and wiped the mustard from her thumb. As long as she kept her cool, he’d never suspect he put her on edge. She set the towels back on the table and crushed the used one in her hand before rewrapping the rest of her sandwich and putting it back in the fridge.

  And damn him for making her lose her appetite when she wouldn’t have a chance to eat again for another three hours. “I’ve had a…hectic morning.”

  He nodded and twisted open a bottle of water. But even as he drank, his eyes didn’t leave her. She calmly returned his gaze.

  Let him stare. It wasn’t as if he was interested in her. With her mousy hair and shapeless blue top and white, wide-legged cropped pants that made her curvy, hourglass figure look at least ten pounds heavier, she hardly turned men’s heads.

  When she’d decided to become Faith Lewis, she’d ditched the colored contact lenses and fake glasses she’d used as a disguise for the past three years, but had kept the drab hair color and baggy clothes. It wasn’t much but it made her feel safe. Even if she would rather shave off her eyebrows than wear another pair of mom jeans.

  Sometimes you just had to suck it up and do whatever it took.

  Because nothing, and no one, was going to destroy the life she and Austin were building in Kingsville.

  NICK COULDN’T QUITE figure Faith out. She was pretty enough with her light green eyes and shoulder-length chestnut hair, but she sure was a jumpy thing. He’d gone out of his way to be friendly, not only because she worked for his sister but because she and her young son were new in town. But each time they ran into each other, she was as uneasy as the first time they’d met.

  “I’d better go,” she said, edging past him. No surprise there. She usually left a room as soon as he walked in.Faith’s escape was ruined, however, when she tripped on his toolbox.

  He grabbed her to keep her from falling. Her body went rigid and she pulled away from him. “You all right?” he asked.

  “Fine. I should’ve watched where I was going.”

  But when she took a step, he saw her wince. He crouched in front of her. “Did you twist your ankle?”

  He raised his eyebrows as he noticed her shoes for the first time. High-heel wedged sandals with crisscross straps—the better to show the bright pink polish on her toes. They were girlie, sexy and totally inappropriate for someone who stood on her feet all day.

  Nick touched her ankle to check for swelling. She inhaled sharply and sidestepped him. “I just stubbed my toe. Which wouldn’t have happened,” she said pointedly and, if he wasn’t mistaken, irritably, “if you hadn’t left your toolbox in the middle of the floor.”

  “You’re right.” He shoved it against the washing machine. “I ran out to my truck and wasn’t thinking.”

  “You should be more careful.” She helped herself to more coffee. “If I can’t work, I can’t support my son—or help your sister build her business.”

  He straightened and shoved a hand through his hair. “Is that something they teach you at Mom School?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That.” He gestured toward her. “The whole guilt thing.”

  She nodded slowly. “It’s an advanced course for those who have passed Nagging 101 and the Art of Saying ‘Because I Said So.’”

  He fought a smile. He’d had no idea she could be such a smart-ass. “I’ve always suspected there was some sort of secret mom society.”

  “I’m sorry, but if I admit any more, they’ll take away my membership.”

  And then she did something she’d never done before. At least not in front of him. She smiled. But it quickly faded.

  “I have to go,” she said, before walking away.

  Faith Lewis sure was a puzzle. He tapped his fingers on top of the dryer. It seemed like ego, but most women were not in a hurry to get away from him. Damned if he couldn’t resist a puzzle.

  “How’s Austin doing?” he asked, stopping her in her tracks. “He enjoying his summer?”

  She took her time turning back to him. Something made it impossible for her to be rude enough to walk away when he was talking to her.

  “Austin’s fine,” she said.

  He leaned against the washing machine. “He’s what? Ten?”

  “Nine,” she said, looking toward the door.

  Yeah, he shouldn’t enjoy this so much. But then again, he was a cop, not a saint. “I remember that age. Summer couldn’t come soon enough, didn’t last long enough and there was always too much to do.”

  “He’s keeping busy.”

  “He making friends? Adjusting to the new town?”

  “He’s…shy. He wasn’t in school long enough to buddy up with any of the kids, but I’m sure that’ll change once it starts again.”

  “If you want, I could introduce him to a few of my nephews. I have one his age and—”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “It’s no big deal. And Trevor’s a great kid.”

  “I’m sure he is but—”

  “Mom!”

  Faith’s face went white. She whirled around as Austin came rushing into the room, his hair matted down with sweat, his face red.

  “What happened?” Kneeling, she gripped his shoulder with her free hand. “What’s wrong?”

  The panic in her voice made Nick step forward, his heart picking up speed.

  “The new X-Men comic is on sale,” Austin panted, bending at the waist. “Can I get it? Please? It’s only four dollars.”

  Faith sagged in relief. “The way you came barreling in here, yelling like that,” she said, running an unsteady hand over her son’s hair, “I thought something had happened to you.”

  “Sorry. I have to hurry back because there’s only one copy left. Mr. Silvis said he’d hold on to it for me as long as I came b
ack before lunchtime.”

  Faith rubbed her temples. “Mr. Silvis is just going to have to wait a few minutes. I hope you didn’t run through the salon—”

  “No, ma’am,” Austin said, with such a guilty look Nick knew for damn sure Austin had barreled through the place as though his ass were on fire.

  “And,” Faith continued, “I can’t help but wonder if you left your manners back at Mr. Silvis’s store, since you haven’t even said hello to Mr. Coletti.”

  “But, Mom, I have to—”

  Faith gave him The Look. A shiver crept up Nick’s spine even though The Look hadn’t even been aimed at him. But it was a powerful tool, one perfected by mothers throughout the centuries to keep their kids in line. Hell, his mother had given him The Look last week. You couldn’t outgrow it.

  “Hi, Mr. Coletti,” Austin said quickly. Nick nodded in greeting and Austin whipped around to face his mother again. “So? Can I get it? Please?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Austin’s expression darkened. “That means no.”

  “It doesn’t mean no. It means I’ll think about it.”

  “Why can’t you tell me now? Please, Mom. Please, I really want this one. And I promise, I won’t ask for anything the rest of the week. Or even the rest of the summer. Or you could take it out of my birthday present or…or I could pay you back. Maybe I could mow Mrs. Sugden’s yard again or walk her dog or—”

  “Austin,” Faith snapped, glancing at Nick before leading Austin over to the corner.

  Nick didn’t even bother pretending he wasn’t observing their every move. Watching her collect herself was so fascinating.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” she said, “but with the water heater breaking, a comic book’s not in the budget this week.”

  The poor kid sort of…deflated. As crushed as if someone had sold his prized baseball card collection at a garage sale for a quarter of its value.

  Like Nick’s sister Kathleen had done during his first year at college.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Austin murmured, blinking fiercely.

  Nick clenched his hands. Not his concern, he assured himself as he shut off the water to the washing machine. Or his business. Faith had been distant around him since they’d met. No sense making waves with his sister’s employee by sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

  Austin sniffed and Nick tipped his head back and exhaled.

  He was going to have to help the kid out, after all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  FAITH HAD BEEN GEARING UP for Austin to give her a hefty dose of snark about not being able to get the comic book, and instead, her baby had taken the news in stride.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” she said, deliberately ignoring the dark, silent man in the room. She brushed Austin’s hair off his forehead, but let her hand drop when he jerked away. “Maybe you can get the next issue.”Austin shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Damn,” Nick muttered.

  She and Austin both turned and saw him staring at his toolbox, his hands on his hips.

  “Sorry,” he said when he caught them watching. “I just realized I don’t have any quarter inch pan head screws and…” He scratched his ear. “Hey, Austin, maybe you could do me a favor?”

  “That depends on what it is,” Faith said.

  “I need those screws but I’m already behind fixing this…” He jerked a thumb at the washing machine. “Could you run down to the hardware store and pick them up for me? If it’s all right with your mom.”

  Austin looked at her. The back of her neck prickled. “But isn’t the hardware store at the end of Main Street?” she asked.

  “Yeah. At the corner of Kennedy and Main.”

  Six blocks away. Even if Austin ran there and back, he’d be gone at least twenty minutes. More than likely, with the way he ambled along, he’d be gone over half an hour. Anything could happen to him in that time.

  In the act of pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, Nick paused. “If you don’t want him crossing the street…”

  “I can cross by myself,” Austin said with all the offended pride someone under double digits could muster. “Can I, Mom? It’s not like I have anything else to do, anyway.”

  She was stuck. Stuck between not wanting her son to do something as innocuous as walking down the street, and the cop looking at her as if she was a few rods short of a perm. “I…I suppose it’s okay.”

  “I appreciate it.” Nick handed Austin a ten dollar bill. “A hundred of them should be less than five dollars, so why don’t you keep the other five?”

  Faith stiffened and edged around so that she stood between him and Austin. “That’s not nec—”

  “I insist.” Nick’s eyes on hers were steady, his expression innocent. “He’s doing me a favor and he should be compensated for it.”

  Austin tugged on her arm. “Can I, Mom? Please?”

  Why did he have to look so excited? So…hopeful?

  Worse, why did she have to feel so guilty? She got no enjoyment out of denying her child something as small as a comic book, especially after she’d grown up going without so many things.

  “Did you eat your breakfast?” she asked.

  Austin nodded vigorously. “I even ate a banana.”

  She forced a smile, surprised her face didn’t crack. “Well, then, I guess it’s okay.”

  “Really?” Austin asked breathlessly. “So, can I get the comic book?”

  “It’s your money. You can buy it if you want to.”

  “When you get to the store,” Nick said, “tell Marsha I sent you. She’ll have my order ready.”

  “Okay.” Austin shoved the money into his pocket but didn’t miss the way Faith raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, yes, sir.”

  “I’ll call her and let her know to expect you.” He took his phone out and walked over to the washing machine as he dialed.

  “Be careful crossing the street,” Faith told Austin.

  He squirmed in embarrassment. “Mo-om.”

  “Yes, I’m lame and overprotective and I’ve said all of this before. Humor me. Don’t stop in any other stores besides the hardware store and bookstore and—”

  “Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t get into the car with a stranger.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not a baby.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re still my baby.” She supposed it was natural for a boy his age to be disgusted by someone calling him a baby. But that didn’t mean she had to like his expression. “I just want you to be careful.”

  “I will be.”

  “I’ll expect you back within thirty minutes,” Faith said. “Got it?”

  “Got it.” He flicked a glance over his shoulder and, seeing Nick’s back was turned, puckered his lips and accepted a quick peck from her.

  “Don’t run through the—”

  Austin raced off. She prayed he wouldn’t crash into anything in the salon. Such as a customer.

  She dug through her purse and, as soon as Nick hung up his phone, stalked over to him. “Here.”

  Frowning at the five-dollar bill she held out, he stuck his phone in his front pocket. “What’s this?”

  “It’s the money you paid my son to run an errand you didn’t even need done.”

  His eyes were hooded, his expression blank. And to think at one time she used to be an expert on reading men. Either she’d lost her touch or he excelled at the whole stoic thing.

  Probably the latter. After all, weren’t all cops emotionless robots? The ones she’d dealt with were.

  “I don’t want your money, Faith.”

  Yeah? Well, she didn’t want to give it to him, but more than that, she didn’t want him to worm his way into her son’s life with money. “Take it. Please,” she insisted.

  He held it as if it were a live rattlesnake before tossing it on top of the washing machine. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”

  “You stuck your nose into my personal business,” she said before she could censor herself. “I’d prefer you didn
’t involve yourself in something that’s between me and my son.”

  “I wasn’t involving myself in anything,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t stepped over a line. “I needed some screws, he needed some cash.”

  She clasped her hands behind her back. “You’re changing the hoses.” Keeping her tone unfailingly polite just about killed her. “All you have to do is shut off the water, disconnect the hoses and connect the new ones.”

  “You moonlight as a plumber?”

  She gritted her teeth. “It’s not rocket science. Austin could do it. But he wouldn’t need any pan head screws, that’s for sure.”

  Nick unhooked one hose from the wall. “I need the screws for something I’m doing later.”

  “No. You don’t. You overheard me tell Austin he couldn’t have something he wanted, and you thought you’d swoop in and save the day like you do with everyone else.”

  He shot her an irritated glance. “You have no idea what I do with everyone else.” He let the end of the cold water hose fall on the tile floor. Water dripped out and made a small puddle. “We’ve seen each other at least once a week for the past few months and this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

  True. And she couldn’t wait for it to end.

  “Every time I so much as say hello, you act wicked nervous,” he continued. “If I did something to—”

  “You didn’t.”

  He grinned. “Good. Because seeing as how we’re probably going to run into each other quite often—and considering that you’re working for my sister—why don’t we try to at least be friends?”

  She narrowed her eyes. Did he really think he could charm her into believing he was the type of guy who did nice things for people out of the goodness of his heart? She didn’t care if he was considered around town to be a prince among men. She didn’t trust him.

  And even if she did, they couldn’t be friends. She didn’t have any friends.

  So what if she got lonely? Or that there were times when she wondered if she could do it all alone. Raise Austin. Keep him safe. Keep their secret. But the decision she’d made when she’d left New York meant she didn’t have a choice now.