Her Special Charm

by Marie Ferrarella

  And then he stood up abruptly, blowing out a breath. Constance rose to her feet beside him. The dog, who’d dozed off at his feet, scrambled up, all paws and ears, eager to be part of whatever was happening.

  James looked at Constance sternly. “Look, I told you this for a reason. I can’t get involved with you.”

  She expected him to be direct, but this was a little too straightforward. It took her a second to collect herself. Her eyes swept over him, searching for the best way to proceed. She didn’t want him against his will.

  She took a deep breath, then smiled. “All right.”

  He’d thought she was going to argue him out of this. This approach was worse. “Stop being so agreeable. It makes me feel guilty.”

  She laughed, doubling up her hands. She held them up for his inspection. “I could start beating you with my fists, would that make you feel better?”

  He snorted, eyeing at her hands disparagingly. “It would be a waste of energy. I wouldn’t feel it.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that, James.” She lifted her chin, her eyes teasing him. “We Beaulieu women are stronger than we look.”

  She didn’t look strong, she looked delicious. Like sin liberally spread on a cracker.

  Now he was convinced that he had to be leaving.

  Even so, he couldn’t resist. Feathering his fingers along her throat and face, James tilted her head up just a touch more and gently kissed her.

  The kiss still had the kick of a mule and went right to his gut. Each time he kissed her, it just got that much worse because it got that much more pleasurable. Reminding him just how long it had been since he’d begun his self-imposed hermitage. And just how badly he wanted to end it.

  “If I don’t get going now, I don’t think I’ll be going.”

  She raised her eyes to his face. She wanted to reach out, to touch his soul and help him heal. She wanted to be with him. She embraced the thought, grateful that her experience with Josh hadn’t paralyzed her the way she’d feared. “Would that be so bad?”

  The moment hung suspended between them.

  “Yeah, it would be. For you,” he added when he saw a spark of hurt entering the blue eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her, he wanted to spare her.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” she murmured at the door. “And the conversation.”

  He’d spent the time talking about the facts of the various cases that had already hit the newspaper. But even that had felt somehow too intimate. Reading the phone book with her would have seemed intimate, he couldn’t help thinking, given her cadence and the way Constance leaned in her body when she listened to him speak.

  Her smile was teasing as she added, “Although I have to admit, you didn’t give me all that much to work with. I’ve run into chattier squirrels during gathering season.”

  He noticed that she twanged a little when she said things like that, quaint sayings probably from wherever she was from. All he knew was that her voice as well as the look in her eyes pulled him in so deep, he was beginning to worry that he might not be able to come up for air.

  His lips quirked into a faint smile. “Maybe I should have brought one of those squirrels along.”

  She inclined her head. “Next time.”

  There wasn’t going to be a “next time,” he thought. There shouldn’t have been a “this time.”

  “Constance…”

  She could see it in his eyes. He was going to say he wouldn’t be coming back. Her shoulders rose and fell in a small, dismissive shrug, sending one of her straps falling from her shoulder.

  For a second, it looked as if her breast was going to be exposed. James felt as if he were about to swallow his own tongue. Very gently, he eased the strap back into place.

  Something hot swelled inside of her, even as she was seized by a feeling of incredible tenderness. Some other man would have tangled his fingers in the strap and pulled it down instead. She didn’t think she would have stopped him if he had. God knew there was enough sexual tension dancing between them to fill a small convention hall.

  Looking back later, Constance realized that it was at this precise moment that her feelings for him began to turn serious. She wasn’t a pushy person by nature. Just determined. Her mind scrambled for a way to see him again.

  “There’s a carnival coming up.”

  James felt as if he were in the middle of a meltdown. The sound of her voice dragged him back. And yet he didn’t comprehend what she was saying. “What?”

  “A carnival,” she repeated. And it was up to her to pull it all together. “John Jay is holding its annual carnival next Saturday—”

  “And you want me to come?”

  “I want you to help put it together. We’re looking for parents to volunteer—”

  “I’m not a parent,” he reminded her, then thought of Dana. “At least not to any of the kids going to that school.”

  She had a way around his defenses. “A policeman is a figure of authority, just like a parent. More at times.”

  He shook his head, a tinge of admiration filtering through him. “Do you ever take no for an answer?”

  When she smiled like that, all he could think about was kissing her. This had to stop. “What’s the fun in that?”

  “I don’t know about fun, but it’s a lot less complicated.” And from where he stood, simplicity was pretty damn appealing.

  “No, being alone is complicated,” she insisted softly. “It allows your mind to work overtime, filling your head with all sorts of things that wind up haunting you. Keeping busy is better.” She was speaking from firsthand experience. “Trust me.”

  That was just the trouble. He didn’t trust, not anymore. Perhaps not ever. He’d trusted that his heart couldn’t be broken, and yet it had been. By his parents who’d been too focused on hurting each other to notice their sons. By his brother who had given up his hold on life without so much as a decent fight. And finally by Janice, whom he could have really loved if she had only helped him find his way.

  Janice leaving had been the third strike in his life. He didn’t have anymore time at the plate, yet here was this woman, with eyes that seemed to look right through him, pushing a bat into his hands and telling him to take another swing.

  Making him want to swing again.

  “Saturday,” he repeated. She nodded her head, confirming the date. Because he was tempted to say yes, he shook his head. “I’m going to be busy. The case,” he explained, hoping that would be the end of it.

  She knew he was hiding behind his work and could understand his motives. But as afraid as she was of being hurt, she was even more afraid of never feeling again. Never experiencing the wonderful high that came from falling in love.

  The high that flirted with her now.

  “We’ll be there in case you change your mind,” she told him. “Come early if you do. We have to build all our own stands before we can set up.”

  For both their sakes, he knew he had to remain firm. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Drop by later then—if you can,” she added, beating him to his protest. “The kids’ll love to see you again.”

  He hardly heard what she was saying. He was too busy watching the way her mouth moved as she spoke. Unless it had to do with a case, he was a man of very little imagination. Yet, he could almost swear he could feel those same lips against his skin with each word she formed.

  Damn, but he needed a vacation. A long one. It didn’t matter where, he just needed to get away. But he had a feeling even that might not help. Because anywhere he went, he’d be taking himself. And it was his thoughts that were the root of his problem here.

  His thoughts and Constance.

  He had to get away from her. At least physically. He’d work on the other part.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he murmured as he left.

  As he got into the elevator and watched the doors close, he congratulated himself for leaving without kissing her the way he was so sorely tempted to do.

 
; It was a hollow triumph.

  She’d been there since seven, bringing with her gallons of lemonade, soda and tons of cookies for everyone who was going to show up and share their time for a good cause. Because it was early and the school was in a rough neighborhood, Alphonso Ho, the assistant principal, a man who had gotten his college degree on a football scholarship and whose body resembled an oncoming freight train, insisted on being with her to offer his protection. This was his neighborhood. He’d been born and raised here and everyone knew not to mess with him. She thought of him as her Hawaiian guardian angel.

  The children and their parents began arriving around nine. The carnival was to take place at noon. There was a lot to do and she lost no time in reorganizing everyone, seeing to it that they had the proper directions and tools to make their stands. The sound of hammering was deafening.

  It was a good sound.

  The cacophony of metal meeting wood was audible a couple of blocks away, which was where he was forced to park his car. He hoped it would still be there by the time he left. James wasn’t naive enough to think that police plates secured his car’s safety. If anything, it was probably like waving a red flag at the bad guys, but he had no choice in the matter.

  As he walked onto the schoolyard, he noticed the grounds resembled a woodworking shop that had exploded. He’d never seen so much hammering before. He looked around for Constance, telling himself that if he didn’t find her in the first five minutes, he was leaving. Waiting made him edgy.

  There had to be at least twenty adults here and twice that number in children. He wasn’t needed here.

  And then he saw her.

  A feeling made her look up. And see him. Sunshine sneaked out from behind the locked door and drenched everything in golden rays. She smiled at him. She had nothing else to offer.

  Resigned to his fate, James crossed to her, circumventing a pair of twins who gave the impression that they’d been eating nothing but sugar for the last two weeks. They were fairly bouncing off each other.

  “Hi,” he called out. He noticed that a big man, his muscles bulging out from beneath his short-sleeved shirt, eyed him. Her bodyguard? he wondered. “So where do you want me?”

  An answer sprang to her lips, but she thought better than to say it out loud. There were children around. And it might scare off James. God knew it was doing a number on her right now. So instead, she asked, “How are you with hammer and nails?”

  “I can use one to hit the other.”

  “Good answer. There’ll be some wood involved as well. See if you can get that worked in between.”

  She began leading him over to a workplace where they were going to set up the ring toss when he caught her by the arm to get her attention. She looked at him quizzically, not knowing what to expect.

  “Who’s the big man?”

  “That’s Mr. Ho. Alphonso,” she said. “He’s the assistant principal.”

  “He looks more like a bodyguard.”

  “That, too. He didn’t think it was safe to have me come out here by myself to start setting up.”

  James was well acquainted with the area. The immediate schoolyard looked amazingly pristine, but less than a half a block away, graffiti littered the walls of buildings, declaring that the property belonged to the local gang no matter who paid the taxes on it.

  He inclined his head toward the big man, grateful someone was looking after this woman. “He’s right.”

  “People look out for me,” she told him. “I’m safe.” She picked up a folder from the lemonade table and paged through the papers until she found the directions. “Okay, I know most men shun them, but these are the directions for building the ring-toss stand.”

  He looked down at the pile of wood. “Is that what this is supposed to be?”

  She grinned. “Can’t you see it?”

  “I don’t have any imagination until after I’ve had a few beers,” he told her dryly.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  She was standing too close again. And even though she wasn’t wearing those damn shorts that were his undoing, her jeans accentuated her curves. And made his mind wander. He struggled to find something bland to discuss.

  “How long has this ‘annual’ carnival been going on?”

  There was one hammer left in the toolbox. Since Alphonso was supervising and keeping watch over them, he would have no need for it. She presented the hammer to James. “Three years.”

  He’d taken note of the way everyone deferred to her. She was definitely the heart of this thing. “And who came up with it in the first place?”

  Taking credit for something had never seemed very important to her. “Everyone thought it was a good idea, after a while.”

  He wanted to pin her down. “But it was yours to begin with, wasn’t it?”

  Constance shrugged carelessly. “It doesn’t matter who came up with it first. All that matters is if it’s a good idea or not.”

  What kind of a person was she? He knew people who made it a point to get credit for every small thing they did. Credit was important to them.

  But obviously not to Constance.

  Someone called to her and she promised to be back. He allowed himself a moment to watch her walk away, then got down to business.

  In no time at all, James had worked up a sweat. Given the temperature and the fact that the humidity was ten degrees higher, it didn’t come as a surprise to him. His T-shirt was soaked through. Without thinking, he stripped it off and hung it from his back pocket before he picked up his hammer again.

  Less than ten minutes later, Constance came by, bearing a T-shirt on her arm. She held it out to him.

  “I brought you an official John Jay Elementary shirt. Extra-large, right?”

  Her eyes swept over him. She tried not to let it faze her. The man had an incredible build, which was not all that evident when he was wearing a shirt. Now she’d never be able to think of him any other way.

  It would only become as soaked as the one hanging from his back pocket. “Why would I want to put that on?”

  Taking the hammer from him, she pressed the shirt into his hands. “In the interest of team spirit and riot prevention.”

  His eyes narrowed as he accepted the shirt. “Riot prevention?”

  She nodded, dead serious. “If you don’t do something to cover up those rippling muscles of yours, I don’t know if I can guarantee your safety much longer. I’m not sure Alphonso can, either. In case you haven’t noticed—” she nodded around the schoolyard “—you’re being hungrily eyed by at least a dozen mothers, not all of whom are divorced. If you don’t want to risk being spirited away by a zealous mother with an overactive imagination, I strongly urge you to put this on.”

  He took it from her. “What about you?”

  “I already have a John Jay T-shirt on,” she said innocently, indicating the T-shirt that was fitting her snugly.

  “No, I mean—” What was he doing, buying trouble? Fishing for a response from her? He didn’t want responses. He wanted to be left alone, he reminded himself.

  She placed her hand on his wrist, her eyes on his, and murmured a soft, firm reply. “If you’re asking if your rippling muscles have sent my imagination into overtime, the answer is most definitely yes.”

  As he got back to work, he had no idea why he couldn’t get the grin off his face.

  Chapter Eleven

  When he first walked onto the school yard, James had had no intention of remaining longer than an hour. Less if possible. Though less turned out to be a word Constance was not acquainted with.

  As he stood hammering together his second wooden stand, it occurred to James ever since he’d met Constance that nothing had turned out quite the way he’d thought it would.

  And she wasn’t his only problem. She’d brought along her own reinforcements in the form of her students. By the time she had him working on the second stand, a large number of her class had arrived. She had the students convinced that half the
fun of the carnival was in helping set it up. He had more willing hands around him to help than he knew what to do with.

  As far back as he could remember, he’d kept his interactions with people to a minimum, especially off the job. And especially with those who only managed to come up to a little past his belt buckle. But if he felt out of his depth surrounded by short people, none of the students gave any indication that they noticed or shared his feeling.

  The next time she came around to see how things were going, she was pleased to find James hadn’t surrendered his tools to another parent, hadn’t called it a day and disappeared without a word to her. He was still working, supervising a little boy who was beaming as he drove a nail into a board with James guiding his small hand.

  This was what she was after, getting both James and the children to a place where there was give and take. She knew the children were more than willing and it was their willingness she was counting on to guide James. Just as he was guiding Billy’s hand right now.

  “I see your personal assistants have mushroomed in number.”

  The look he gave her silently asked for rescue. “Doesn’t anyone else need any help?” he tactfully suggested. He had to watch his swings in order not to accidentally bump against any of his “helpers.”

  She merely smiled at him and shook her head. “Not as much as you do, apparently.” Her glance swept over the kids on either side of him. There were six right now, and she was willing to bet there would be more before too long. “Make sure you help Detective Munro any way you can.”

  A chorus of “Yes, Ms. B.,” rose up from either side of him. James shot her a look that said he’d get even with her. The sound of her laugh as she walked away rippled through his belly.

  It took a while, but everything was finally set up. Where a few short hours ago there had been nothing but concrete surrounding the forty-five-year-old school bound by a chain-link fence, now there were colorful stands for games and contests, things to help feed a child’s imagination. Over to one side were stands covered with bright vinyl tablecloths and littered with sandwiches and desserts. Any of it could be purchased for just pennies.