by Layne, Lyssa
“I’m not putting my life on hold. I have a job to do, and I plan to do it.” She planted fisted hands on her hips. Her expression defied him to challenge her.
Brad felt guilty. Again. He’d given her a bit of a cold shoulder last night, because he couldn’t take his job seriously protecting her if he was in bed with her. The situation was getting more deadly by the moment. His explanation sucked. How could he admit he was falling for her? Now she was mad and he had no one to blame but himself. Even if he was only trying to keep her safe.
He snagged her gaze and held it. “Listen to me, trust me. Like you said, I know about this kind of stuff.”
“Cut it out, you two.” Jared stepped between them and placed one placed a hand on Christine's shoulder and the other on Brad’s. “If she needs to go out and you’re not around, I promise to stay right by her side.”
“That’s all well and good, but she’s already been associated with me. It’s too late now. No matter where she goes her life is in jeopardy.”
Jared took two steps into the hall, opened a cabinet, and grabbed a towel. “The two of you have been under extreme pressure the past couple of days.” He tossed the towel hitting Brad in the face. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll talk to Christine. The bathroom is down the hall on the right.”
Brad snorted. “Lots of luck, Ace. Even with the events of the last two days, I don't think she fully understands that her life is in danger.” Brad turned his back on Chris and walked down the hall. He closed the bathroom door a little harder than he meant to. He leaned on the sink, staring into the mirror. “Damn woman and her silly pride.”
“Damn that man and his stupid pride.” Christine stared at Brad’s retreating back.
Jared took Christine by the shoulders. “Alright, what’s going on? You and I both know you’re mad about the guy. So, why all of a sudden are you turning into a raging bitch? You’re acting like you did when we met.”
She shrugged away from his gentle grip and plopped back onto the couch. “Gee thanks! And here I thought you were my best friend.”
He sat beside her and took her hand. “I am. I also know when something’s wrong. Give it up. It’s not like you to behave this way. Hell, you don’t have a mean bone in your body. “
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what’s wrong. One minute Brad and I are getting closer the next he’s putting up walls and won’t even come near me.” She patted Jared's hand then let it go.
“You lost me, what happened? Last time I saw you, there was a problem with the evidence, but you and Prince Charming were doing great.”
“That’s what I thought too. Clear up to yesterday when my car blew up.”
“Excuse me! What are you babbling about?”
“I thought Joe told you about it when he called you earlier. If you don’t know all the details, maybe we shouldn’t be staying here.” She tried to get up, but he pushed her back into the seat.
“Start from after I left your place yesterday.”
She spent the next ten minutes reliving the horrors of the past twenty-four hours.
When Brad rejoined them and she clammed up. The silence became increasingly uncomfortable.
Jared jumped up like a jack-in-the-box and darn near bounced her off the couch.
He stood and held out a hand to her. “Christine, why don’t you take a nice long soak? By the time you get out, I’ll have dinner ready. And if you want, I’ll even bring you a glass of the nice Merlot you like so much. I have a bottle breathing right now.”
She ignored Brad and gave Jared a winning smile and let him help her off the couch. “You know what, that sounds heavenly. If you don’t hear from me in an hour, I’m just napping.”
Jared pointed her in the direction of his extensive CD collection while he headed for the kitchen and the wine. She searched for soothing music. She grabbed a CD and retreated to the bathroom.
By the time Jared entered the bathroom with her glass of wine, Christine was in a tub of bubbles with soothing music playing softly.
“Hmm. Music, wine, and warm water. That ought to take the edge off, love.” He grinned at her, set the wine glass on the edge of the tub, and left her alone.
She closed her eyes and became one with the music.
Brad leaned on the sill in the living room staring blindly out the window. He was so tired of feeling guilty. First Marty, then Christine, now this. What’s next? The way things were going he’d find out soon enough.
At the sound of footsteps he turned.
Jared pointed to couch indicating he wanted Brad to sit.
When he didn’t move fast enough Jared swore under his breath, mumbling something about the defective detective who couldn’t follow orders.
Jared’s behavior prickled Brad’s ire. He didn't want to sit there and give his undivided attention to the guy.
“Okay hot shot, move it into the kitchen. You and I are going to have a talk whether you like it or not while Christine’s getting some much-needed relaxation.” Jared stood there, tapping his foot and pointing toward the kitchen.
Brad flexed his hands. “Look, I know I screwed up. I got Chris in over her head. It’s completely my fault. One hundred percent. That’s why I’m going to end it with her as soon as this whole mess is over.”
“Are you out of your mind? That girl loves you, even if she’s not ready to admit it. But I can see it in her eyes.” Jared marched into the kitchen and turned the dial to 350 on the oven. He paced to the refrigerator, took out a dish of Lasagna he'd prepared earlier and placed it on the top rack.
Brad crossed his arms. “That’s just it. I know I’m not the right guy for her, that’s why I’m ending it.”
“You don't get it, do you? You’re exactly what she needs. And you’re just as in love with her as she is with you. You might as well admit it.” Jared retraced his steps and raided his refrigerator, grabbed a bag of mixed greens, tomatoes, radishes, and a cucumber then pointed the paring knife at Brad, then continued slicing and dicing the vegetables. “Let me tell you a little story. There’s this girl I know who grew up alone. She was the unlucky recipient of a self-centered mother and a scum-ball father who ran out on them two months before she was born. Her mother was bitter and vindictive the whole time the child was growing up. The poor girl became afraid of men. She never even dated during high school.” Jared took a deep calming breath.
Brad didn’t want to hear it. He leaned against the counter and crosses his arm and legs.
“During her second year of college she took an aptitude test to see what she’d be best at. The results said she'd be a great Juvenile Cop or Child Psychologist.” Jared continued to chop vegetables and throw them into a large bowl without making eye contact.
“Really.” Brad helped himself to a radish.
“She was shocked to say the least.” Jared assembled mayonnaise, catsup and relish. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and began measuring out the ingredients and stirring them into a light salmon colored salad dressing. He lifted the bowl toward Brad. “Thousand island. Fresh.” He covered the bowl with its lid and returned it and the other bottles to the fridge.
Brad was stunned by Jared’s ability to blather on and chop vegetables with such precision.
“She took the test to heart and worked with a counselor to schedule her last two years of college. She decided her chosen profession would be to help teens, especially the ones that didn’t have the strength to stand on their own. Or kids who were afraid to say no.” Jared reached for a loaf of French bread, sliced it in half and slathered garlic spread and butter on it. “You know, the shy followers. She wanted to show them how to become self-sufficient by helping them believe in themselves. She knew she couldn’t save the world, but she definitely wanted to save a small part of it.”
Brad pulled up a stool at the counter and straddled it. “That’s a nice story, but what’s it got to do with us?” He picked up another radish and popped it into his mouth.
“I’m get
ting there. Anyway by the end of her junior year in college, she finally met a boy she trusted. This guy was a year ahead of her. Overcome with feelings so strange and unfamiliar to her that she didn’t know which end was up, she fell for him. One night, several months later, after he’d gone through commencement exercises, he took off in the new sports car his Daddy gave him for graduation.” Jared wrapped the French bread in foil and placed it in the oven beside the lasagna.
Brad didn’t have any idea where this story was going but his stomach was more interested in what was in the oven. He tried to relax, and propped an elbow on the table.
“He was drunk but unfortunately, he wasn’t alone. You see, my friend got into the car with him because she didn’t know he was too drunk to drive until they took off. But by then it was too late. He got into a drag race and crashed his car into a utility pole. The idiot walked away without a scratch. His occupant wasn’t so lucky. He never even bothered to visit her in the hospital. Imagine how that must have felt?” Jared lifted his gaze and it bore into him.
Brad felt like an idiot for not catching on sooner and almost threw up when he finally realized who Jared had been talking about. “Christine.”
Jared nodded his head and repeated. “Yes, Christine. Three days later, she came out of a coma only to find she'd suffered an above the knee amputation of her left leg.”
“She said you were her physical therapist. I figured it had to do with her injury.” Brad rested his forearms on the table, no longer hungry. Now he was angry at the ass hat that dared to drive drunk with Christine in his car.
“That’s not the half of it. I didn’t meet her until about two months after the accident. By then she’d pulled so far inside herself, she refused to do therapy so they stuck her a wheelchair and sent her to a rehab center.” Jared crossed his legs at the ankles leaning on the counter. “She became mad at the world, angry at life for giving her nothing but shit. It took me damn near a month to get through to her, that having one leg didn't mean she wasn't as good as anybody else. The accident seemed to emphasize all she'd gone through since her birth. It took physical and psychological therapy for her to see that she was in no way disabled.
“Chris told me that you saved her life, I didn’t realize you saved her sanity as well. That poor kid!”
“Whoa, whatever you do, don’t let her hear you say that. She’ll strangle you.”
Brad swiped imaginary sweat from his brow. “Tell me about it. I used the word 'crippled' once and I thought she was going to send a hit man after me.”
Jared chuckled, then sobered. “She simply can't stand pity. She's come a long way and is determined not to go backward. Christine is one of the strongest people I know and that includes men and women.” Jared pushed away from the counter and re-checked the dinner he'd put in the oven. He removed the bread, then turned off the oven.
“I agree with you there. I’m amazed she’s as strong as she is.”
“You’re talking about ending it because you think you’re putting her life in jeopardy. She’s been in worse trouble than this before, so please understand she’s not going to melt.”
Brad chuckled. “She told me that same thing yesterday. My response to her was that sometimes a guy like me needs to feel like the hero. Funny, I’m no hero—she is.”
“Now do you see why you can't break it off?”
“Okay, you got me there. Yes, I understand. But what am I supposed to do now? I was a complete ass last night. She’s barely talking to me for pulling away after the fight we had last night.”
“Fine, so tell her that. Don’t treat her like she’s not strong enough for the truth. That would be the biggest mistake you could make. And whatever you do, don’t tell her we had this conversation.”
Jared when to check on Chris only to find she’s fallen asleep.
A short time later Brad set the salad and French bread on the table while Jared removed the lasagna from the oven. He set the table under Jared's direction, while Jared finished making the salads.
Brad took his wine into the living room. Opening the sliding glass door he stepped out onto the patio for a breath of fresh air. He had plenty to think about while they waited for Chris to finish her bath. He just hoped Chris would listen to his apology. He scanned the view of Newport Beach. He dearly loved the city he’d protected for the last thirteen years of his life, the city he now called home.
Boy he’d made a mess of things. He’d done everything wrong from the second he’d met her. Brad tossed back the last of his wine forgetting it wasn’t beer. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He would talk with Chris and hope it wouldn't leave an even worse taste in his mouth—or a hole in his heart.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Christine leaned back in the rapidly cooling tub, her mind still on Brad. She’d fallen into an exhausted slumber and Jared awoke her in the middle of an erotic dream. Her ample breasts were covered in opalescent bubbles, like perfectly frosted mountain peaks. Her nipples, rock hard and not from the chilling air, but from remembering the night before last when Brad had come to bed with her. He’d held her all through the night. Kept her safe and made her feel—precious.
“What changed?” she whispered aloud. “C’mon you’re stronger than this, think it out.”
Jared’s right, she was crazy about Brad. But, what good would it do her if he didn’t feel the same way?
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, practicing Jared’s relaxation techniques. In her mind she started from where they woke up the previous morning. Things had been fine. Then her car had been blown to smithereens. Her chest began to rise and fall faster and faster as her anxiety amped, how frightened she’d been when she reached Brad.
Her breath caught. She sat up, sloshing water. He’s afraid because he cares! That’s why. He cares more than he was willing to admit. She’d figure it out. Now she just needed to figure out how to fix it.
Now that she was calm it was so obvious she felt stupid. He was blaming himself for everything. Why? Because, he hadn’t had anyone on his side since Marty died. He’d been alone. That, she understood. Being alone was like asking for trouble. Depression, anxiety, and negativity filled a person.
She shivered. It was exciting to be in love again, and fearsome. Who wouldn't have a smidgen of doubt after the way her last relationship had ended.
But Brad wasn't Ray.
Revelations aside, as excited as she was, she also feared it. Maybe Brad had the right idea. Cool it until they caught the perp. Stands to reason that while Brad's bent on protecting her, who was watching his back? Logical thinking. Right? Well, she would!
She shrugged and dusted off her hands as if she were done with the negative emotions, satisfied with her decision, she sighed. Brad was just going to have to deal with it because she wasn’t going anywhere.
After emptying the tub, she dressed sans underwear with a thought to talk to Brad about somehow getting some clean clothes from their apartments.
She blew out a cleansing breath. Ready or not, it was time to deal with Brad Maxwell.
They ate their dinner quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Christine didn't look up from her meal but felt Jared's eyes on her. Brad's too. She wasn't ready, not even for small talk. At least not in front of Jared. She poked at an errant noodle, slipping it back on her plate with a fork.
And she didn’t want to be pushy, but she’d insist no matter what that she was responsible for her own life.
This mess couldn’t go on much longer, and she planned to show him she was in it for the long haul. She suspected life with him would never be dull by any stretch of the imagination, if the last few days meant anything.
The silence was as deafening as a cannon going off in a rotunda. After dinner, she insisted on doing the dishes. Brad offered to dry, but she sent him off into the living room with Jared to watch television. She needed the time alone to figure things out. She finished the dishes, wiped down the counters, stove, and then folded the dish towel and laid it beside
the sink.
She took a deep cleansing breath and walked into the living room. The tail end credits of one an old black and white movie flashed on the screen.
Jared stood, stretched his arms, yawned and pointed to a door. “I'm going in there. It's up to you two to duke it out for the second bedroom. The couch opens into a bed.” With a smug smile, he disappeared into a bedroom and shut the door.
Christine made a mental decision to take the other bedroom and ask him to join her.
He caught her arm as she tried to get by him.
“Chris, we’ve got to talk.”
She turned to face him, then fixed her gaze on his collar. She had to ignore how good he looked, injured face and all, to say nothing of how terrific he smelled. “I guess now is as good a time as any for this discussion.”
“What discussion?”
She loved the sexy way his eyebrow raised. Her heart sped up. “Y—you're the one who said we have to talk, so I guess you mean the conversation about us?”
“So, you’ve noticed it too?”
“I’d have to be stupid not to notice that you won’t come near me. You've been acting like there's nothing going on between us.
“Now wait Chris—”
She cut him off. “Wait for what? For you to decide whether you want a relationship or not? Or until whoever shot Marty gets you, too? Or should I be patient until the cows jump over the moon or until pigs fly? What’s it going to be?” This conversation was not going the way she planned. She was tired of being frustrated. She was tired was feeling sorry for herself and even for Brad.
“That’s not fair.”
“You’re damn right it’s not fair. Why should you be in control of all the decisions without me? Why should I sit here and wait until you'd made up your mind about my future?” She snapped her fingers under his nose. “Who the hell gave you the right to act as if I'm invisible and without feelings?” She poked him in the chest. “How dare you treat me like I haven't a lick of sense?
