Signed, Sealed, Delivered ... I'm Yours

by Naleighna Kai

  Erin’s dad had never been around. The guy actually showed up at her eight-grade graduation ceremony ten minutes before it ended. What was the point of being the valedictorian when her own father was not there to hear her speech?

  By the time she started her freshman year of college, he had passed, leaving the family pretty much in the same shape he had when he was alive—alone.

  Jordan hooked an arm under Erin’s as they exited together. “Girl, Detective Crenshaw is hot!”

  “Calm down, woman,” Erin warned with a swift look in the officer’s direction. “He’s probably married.”

  “The ring finger is blank,” Jordan announced.

  Erin shot Jordan a startled look. “You saw that from across the room?”

  Jordan winked and kept moving.

  Erin journeyed to her room and was halted by a few kids who wanted to get their good-bye hugs and wishes for the summer. She checked the coat closet and cubby-holes for any supplies or clothing left behind by the children, erased the chalk board, then picked up her satchel and threw it across her shoulder. She lifted the box from the desk that held her plant, a crystal clock, and a class picture of her students taken at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural Art. Erin cleared the threshold and gave the door a gentle kick to close it when she felt the box being lifted from my arms.

  “Oh, I didn’t see you,” Erin gasped suddenly, startled out of her mind.

  “I saw you struggling when I turned the corner,” the detective said. “Looks like I caught it just in time.”

  His hands brushed against her arms as he lifted the box, and a tingling sensation went through her. She stepped back and looked up to find the detective smiling down at her.

  The officer’s stance was sexy—then again, it could have been the dimple in his chin, or the little mole at the right side of his upper lip. Erin did a quick inspection, and realized it was actually his whole package.

  Seconds ticked by before she realized his lips were moving, and she hadn’t heard a single word.

  Erin reached for her things and quickly gazed at his nameplate. “I’m leaving for the day. I can take it from here. Don’t want to hold you up any longer, Officer Crenshaw.”

  “Detective,” he corrected.

  “I’m sorry?” Erin said, frowning.

  “I said, it’s Detective,” he repeated, still holding her box. “Detective Crenshaw, but you can call me Rob; all of my friends do. And I insist on at least seeing you to your car.”

  “Well, Detective Crenshaw, thanks for your help.”

  He smiled and fell in step with her. They maneuvered past the empty classrooms, teachers’ lounge, and finally the main office. They made it out to the parking lot and she pointed her key towards a black Volkswagen Bug. The trunk opened and Erin lifted the box from his hands. “Thank you, Detective.”

  His smile shifted to something dark, heady, and sensual. Erin almost tripped over her tongue. She nearly melted, and it wasn’t from the sweltering heat.

  “Mrs. …?” he said, then his eyebrows drew in. “Apologies, I didn’t get your last name.”

  “It’s Miss. And my last name’s Gray. No need for formality. Miss works for me.”

  Detective Crenshaw opened the driver side door of her car, and in her distraction, Erin bumped her head on the way down. “Ouch!”

  “Are you okay?” Detective Crenshaw asked with a sly grin. His hand gently reached out and cupped her face out of concern. His warm palm felt every shade of wonderful against her skin.

  “I’m fine, and thanks,” she answered. She was shivering with a yearning she couldn’t explain. “See you around.”

  Erin started her car. Even though the heat inside the car was unbearable, she didn’t roll down the window.

  She prayed she would never see the man again. Nothing could be more detrimental to her and her heart than a handsome man blessed with the features of Detective Robert Crenshaw. No, no, no! Love had taken her for a ride, a dance, and a hard dump. There was no way she was going to fall for another sexy face again.

  Erin was out of the school parking lot quicker than a bat out of hell. With every additional block of distance between them, she breathed a little easier.

  With a pile of the latest novels waiting for her at home, and a few television series to catch up on, the last thing on her mind was curling up with a man as fine as Detective Crenshaw.

  Chapter 3

  Crenshaw committed her license plate number to memory. First thing Friday morning, he was paying Miss Erin Gray a little visit. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he’d think of something. Robert’s focus had locked on the little beauty the second he had walked into the auditorium.

  She was standing off to the side, talking with a red-haired woman he assumed was another teacher. Her enchanting hazel eyes literally caused his temperature to rise. The quiet sense of respect she commanded from the students was evident when she took the stage and the entire audience idled down.

  That right there was sexy as hell. She was a woman who was comfortable in her skin, and judging by the way she hovered over one group of children in particular, she was protective as well.

  The unmarked squad car was a cocoon of heaven, thanks to Fisher’s fast thinking. The AC was cranked full blast and working overtime by the time Crenshaw settled into the front passenger seat.

  Fisher pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic. Crenshaw sat quietly for a few moments, but then couldn’t stand waiting a minute longer. He keyed his security code into the car’s computer system and typed in Erin’s plate number.

  “Bingo!” he cheered.

  Fisher came to stop at a red light, glanced over to the screen, and frowned. “You know, it would’ve have been easier just to ask the woman,” he chided. “If you treat a woman like a suspect, she’ll treat you like a criminal.”

  “What do you know about getting a woman?” he shot back, wiping the information off the screen with the flick of a button. “You’ve been with Mona twelve years. Folks just don’t go about taking women to soda shops anymore.”

  “Here we go again.” Fisher eased forward when the light turned green. “Let me save you the trouble, son. I may be a hopeless romantic. I may have courted my Mona the old-school way. I may have broken a Cardinal rule by saying, ‘I love you,’ first. But you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing. Mona is my perfect woman because she’s the best half of me.” Fisher slid Crenshaw a glance. “Give it a try the old school way. Ask her out for a nice dinner, maybe a Jazz club that plays live music. Old school is what women want.” He turned the unmarked sedan onto M street. “Let’s do a soft search today then get into those main areas on Monday.”

  Crenshaw nodded, noticing that Fisher had smoothly changed the subject.

  Searching out and speaking with the informants that were spread around the Anacostia projects, the U Street corridor, and Columbia Heights would be the best use of their limited time. From there they would spend the rest of the day following up on any new leads.

  Crenshaw secretly hoped Daryl Crown was stupid enough to get cocky. Cocky meant mistakes, and mistakes meant capture. They needed to capture Daryl Crown before he tried to fence dirty money—fake money—to more dangerous street criminals. A move like that could cost Crown his life and set off a dangerous chain of events that the city might not be able to handle.

  Chapter 4

  Erin was snatched out of a sound sleep by the sun, which was trying to make a run for the sky. Good grief. Two weeks since the school term ended, and her body clock was still in class mode, and she was up with the birds.

  “No sense in fighting it,” she grumbled. “I’m up now.”

  Erin showered, changed into her running gear, strapped an iPod to her arm, plugged in the headphones, and headed out for a jog. Maybe if she tired out her body enough it would sleep in tomorrow.

  “Let’s see if I can hit three miles today,” she mumbled. Each day she pushed a little further. Today she was feeling good enough to actua
lly make it.

  With every slap of her feet against the pavement, her mind flooded and cleared away. Flooded and cleared away. It was a cycle that gave her a sense of comfort. When random thoughts came in, she let them come, analyzed them, and then let them go. The closest thing Erin could figure, it was her mind’s way of mentally cleaning house.

  Some of the thoughts were dark and sad, others were painful and hard to face, but she allowed them their due. Today would be no different. The images of a terrible time from the previous year came to mind.

  Principal Walker appeared in the doorway with a substitute teacher and said in a solemn tone, “Ms. Gray, I need to see you and Master Smith in my office. Mr. Winfrey will take over for a little while.”

  “We’ll be right there,” she confirmed. She then helped the little boy from his desk and into the hall.

  “What did I do wrong, Ms. Gray?” the child asked.

  “Nothing, sweetheart. I promise,” Erin answered.

  “Your mother’s on the way here,” Principal Walker added as the three of them headed to the school’s office.

  Erin’s heart bled for Nick. Something was terribly wrong. The glance she snagged from Principal Walker confirmed it.

  Nick’s mother was waiting for them with tears in her eyes. She gathered up her son and hugged the stuffing out of him. Principal Walker closed the door, and Mrs. Smith broke the news to the child. Erin fought desperately not to cry. Emotions were raw and jagged all around her.

  “My daddy’s gone?” Nick sobbed.

  His mother nodded, unable to say another word.

  The blow of the news slammed into Erin like the backdraft of an explosion. Nick’s father had been killed in a senseless shooting at the Navy yard. She crumpled into a chair, thinking about the visit that Captain Nicholas Smith had just paid her classroom during the class’s rendition of living history day. Nick’s father had volunteered to share what he did in the military.

  Nick had looked so proud when his father stood in front of the room and gave him a wink and said, “Kids, I’m looking for a few, proud, future Marines.”

  Erin surprised him when she belted out a big “Hoo-rah!”

  The blow of that loss had devastated Nick’s mother, Melissa Smith. The woman completely checked out of life, leaving Nick to fend for himself in his grief and loss. Erin couldn’t stand it. Every day for over a month she rose extra early and went to their home and helped both him and his mother cope with their loss.

  She fed Nick, helped him dress, and readied him for school. She gave Melissa a shoulder to cry on and encouraged her to make small steps to return to life until one day, she did. Melissa got a good job at the hospital and did her best to raise and care for her son.

  Erin had other uncomfortable memories that flooded and receded in her mind, like when she attended McHenry High School, and an overzealous stalker leeched onto her. She could not shake him loose no matter how many times she called the police or took out orders of protection. The creep waited her out and eventually snatched her up and kept her against her will for hours until she finally escaped.

  That memory still made her skin crawl. Erin’s lungs were burning with their effort, but she kept jogging. This time she would hit that three-mile mark.

  Erin cleared the edge of the park, taking the pace in good stride. As she rounded to return home, her mind flooded with a good memory—the time when she bought her current residence. After graduating college, she took the small inheritance her dad willed her and purchased the perfect apartment building directly across the street from the new Nationals stadium.

  She loved baseball in the summer, and it didn’t hurt that the building carried her last name—The Grey’s. It wasn’t spelled the same, but it was confirmation enough for her. She chose married couples for tenants, and a live-in super who was retired, skilled, and didn’t try to milk her for every dime. His presence freed her up to focus on what she loved doing—teaching.

  Thirty minutes later, Erin was dripping with sweat and leaning over the bench in front of the apartment to catch her breath. Her lungs leveled out just as a dark Chevy Impala rolled up and pulled to a stop.

  Erin straightened, poised to run, watching the car’s movements. Because there was absolutely no parking on South Capital Street, the person inside had to be crazy or a glutton for punishment.

  Detective Crenshaw rolled down the window and smiled. “Good morning, Ms. Gray.”

  Her breath caught at the sight of him, and she whispered—more to herself than to him, “Oh, my goodness, this man is going to be the death of me.”

  The detective stepped out of the vehicle wearing a simple pair of khakis and a white polo shirt, but his arms were everything. The muscles were bulging from underneath—not too big, but large enough to hold a woman tight.

  “Are you following me?” she snapped, realizing that his presence in front of her home was not a coincidence. “How did you know where I live? And what do you want?”

  Detective Crenshaw leaned against his car and grinned.

  “I was just in the area.”

  She leveled him with a hard gaze, inched toward the door and he confessed. “Well, I wanted to be in the area, so …”

  Okay, let’s take stock for a moment. He’s handsome. He’s interested. I’m curious. I’m tempted. He’s smooth. He’s intelligent. I’m a reasonably fair judge of character. I’m bored out of my mind with nothing to do. He’s persistent. He’s thorough. I’m available. He’s single.

  “I didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that,” he said in a smooth voice that somehow brought to her mind nights curled up by the fire.

  I can’t let what that crazed man did rule me for the rest of my life. “Good morning, Detective Crenshaw,” she smiled, her tone softer.

  His wicked smile caused Erin to laser focus on the cute little mole on his upper lip. He took a few steps towards her and said, “I was wondering if you were available for breakfast this morning.”

  His subtle, seductive voice was doing things to her body. The tingle was stronger than it was during their first encounter. Then, it had only affected her hand where they touched. This time … whew! It started at the tips of her toes and ended in the most feminine part of her.

  What’s the worst that could happen? I have a boring breakfast and come home to my books. Best case scenario? I have a decent conversation with a grown man who also happens to have a great body and gorgeous face and just maybe I start to get sweaty every morning for a different reason because Detective Crenshaw and I are …

  “I’d love to! But, as you can see, I’m not dressed for breakfast. Could you give me a few minutes to shower and dress?”

  He readied to follow her, but Erin placed a firm hand on his massive chest and said, “Slow down, Tiger. I didn’t say you could come up. I’m not that kind of woman.” She looked over at his car and added, “Since you won’t get a ticket for parking in that zone, you can just stay here while I make myself presentable.”

  His smile never wavered as he gathered her hand in his and pulled her closer. He dipped his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Personally, I like a woman who can work up a sweat.”

  She took a step back and headed up the stairs, letting her hips swivel and tease.

  “I’ll be right here waiting … Erin.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and he winked. Excitement moved her forward while, at the same time, butterflies were doing cartwheels in her stomach.

  Rob. Detective Crenshaw. Erin did not know what to call him at the moment, but her body was going haywire, and she had to admit, it felt pretty good.

  As she passed the elderly couple’s door on the first floor, an old Spinner’s tune echoed, “Could it be I’m falling in love?”

  Erin smiled.

  Nah, that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me.

  Chapter 5

  Crenshaw had a winner on his hands, and hopefully in his arms. Erin Gray was a grown man’s dream. Sassy, smart, sexy, with a quiet strength a
nd a touch of vulnerability that rounded out the package. He would have to keep his hands anchored in his pockets during breakfast. The compulsion to touch her was almost too much. The woman, even sweaty, had turned him all the way on.

  Their first encounter was sealed in his memory. Erin Gray had no love for cops—especially inside the school. Whether there were other reasons for that resentment remained to be seen.

  He remembered her snippy statement from not so long ago, “I don’t date cops.” Those words definitely had some miles on them

  At the assembly, Crenshaw had noticed that Erin’s entire focus was on the children. Something inside him thawed at the sight of how nurturing she was towards the students. Each one wanted a hug on their way out the door. She smiled at them, held their little hands, and said something to each one. Strong, nurturing, loving.

  Later that night, visions of her belly swollen with their child engulfed him. Crenshaw shivered mostly because that had never happened before with any woman.

  He was jumping the gun, or at least his lower half was. First, he needed to get her past her ill will towards cops. Assuming that was possible, Crenshaw wanted a strong woman like her—one strong enough to not shrink away from the hard parts of his life.

  Second, he had to strategically caution her on strangers—men especially—who appeared unannounced at her place. Though he could tell she was ready to sprint when he first showed up, the little vixen hadn’t put up much of a fight about how and why he was there. And with a new criminal in town and the drug trade heating up, Crenshaw didn’t want her taking any chances.

  He moseyed over to his car and propped his hip against the side before whipping out his cell phone. No sense in being the only one up this early.

  “This better be good,” Fisher answered with a growl.

  Crenshaw chuckled. “It’s real good, man. I’m standing outside of The Grey’s on South Dakota waiting for a pretty little teacher to come down and join me for breakfast. No soda shop for me, my man. Real food. Real talk.”