“Sludge, sit down.”
Amazingly the dog sat, though the look in his dark-brown eyes showed that he wasn’t happy about minding. Gen once again compared Sludge to her own Sadie. While both were tricolor, Sludge’s colors leaned toward black while Sadie’s spots were mainly brown.
Sludge also held a note of mischief in his eyes, making him look like a practical joker.
Now that he wasn’t eating her scarf, Gen was charmed. Reaching out, she placed her fingers near his nose. He sniffed twice before treating her to a giant lick.
“We’re in luck. Sludge hasn’t looked at your shoes once.”
“He must know better than to mess with regulation leather,” Gen teased.
“He always has been a little wary of authority.” Gesturing toward the kitchen, Cary said, “Would you like another glass of water? Cup of coffee?”
“No. I’d better get going,” Gen said, tamping down the regret she felt. Warring emotions coursed through her, making her think of how much she’d love to relax on Cary’s couch. Find out if those shoulders and arms really were as firm and sculpted as she guessed. Wear her hair down...attempt to flirt a little. See where this attraction to him could go.
But duty called. “I really do have to return some phone calls.”
He stepped back. “Right. I’d almost forgotten. Phone calls and reports.”
“Yep. Always paperwork,” she added in a rush, saying the truth but wishing for something different.
“I won’t keep you then.” Cary walked to the door. Sludge followed, his tail wagging as he walked.
Gen patted the dog’s head and decided to take a chance. “So—are you going to the game tomorrow night?” She held up a hand to stop his reply. “Scratch that. Of course you are. What I was going to say was, I’m going, too, and—” she took a deep breath and a giant leap “—I wondered if maybe you wanted to go together.”
Mischief and warmth blended together in Cary’s eyes. “Are you asking me out, Gen?”
Oh, no, she’d read him wrong. “Maybe,” she said, hesitation in her voice. As much as she wanted to make more friends and be more outgoing, she couldn’t survive another Keaton situation.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” Had she heard him correctly?
“I’ll pick you up.”
“If you want. Or I could just meet you there.”
“Not a chance. How about we go out to eat first? Do you eat Mexican?”
“I can eat anything.” When Cary chuckled, Gen said, “I mean, I love Mexican food.” What was happening to her? You’d think she’d never planned a date with a man before!
“How about I pick you up around five-thirty or six o’clock? The game starts at seven-thirty.”
“My shift ends tomorrow at four, so that would be fine.”
“Great. Where do you live?”
Hastily she pulled out a card and wrote her home address on the back. When Sludge came closer, nudging her jacket as if it were a tasty appetizer, Gen darted for the door. “I’ll see you then.”
“Okay.”
“And I’ll call you if I get a lead on the person who damaged Melissa’s car.”
“I hope you call soon, no matter what.” The look in his eyes dissolved Gen’s doubts about his feelings. Before she knew it, she was back in her cruiser, feeling more feminine in a starched blue uniform and polyester pants than she ever had before.
What was it about Cary Hudson that made the simplest things sound appealing?
Suddenly her radio squawked, effectively ending all daydreams. “Slate? We got an altercation at 1633 Cheyenne. Copy?”
“I’m on it. Five minutes, tops.”
Amanda chuckled. “Take your time. It’s only Mrs. Fogle. She and her daughter are at it again.”
“I copy that.” Carefully Gen drove away from Cary’s house, stopping only to wave at a curly-headed blonde about Melissa’s age watching from her front steps across the street.
Chapter Seven
“NO, MOM. I didn’t mean that,” Gen said, trying in vain to keep her voice even and calm. It wasn’t going too well.
Especially since her mother wasn’t making their conversation an easy one.
Wearily, Gen reflected on her earlier chat with Margaret and was twice as glad she’d chosen to give her sister a call. It had felt good to speak to Meg one-on-one, without their mom changing little details in the translation.
Obviously frustrated, her mother’s voice rose sharply. “What did you mean, Genevieve? When Margaret told me you weren’t coming home for Easter I was sure I had misunderstood. And now when I ask you what is more important than family on such a special holiday, you talk to me about work? I’m very disappointed.”
Nobody could lay on the guilt trip like her mother. And nobody else could make her feel like an awkward twelve-year-old in the space of five minutes. “Momma, I’m new here. Since I’m the newest on the force, I have to stay.” Gen took a deep, cleansing breath.
“You are not new. You’ve been putting your life in danger for years.”
Gen didn’t dare touch the life-in-danger jab. “Momma, here in Lane’s End I am the new girl. New girls work holidays.” Against her will, she cringed at her words. She would’ve given anyone else what-for if they’d even thought of referring to her as a girl, but if the excuse appeased her mother, she’d learn to live with the name.
“You should have told them you had plans.”
“How could I? Everyone knows I don’t have family nearby.”
“Yes, you do, young lady. And we’re right here in Beckley, waiting for you to remember.”
Gen winced. “Momma, I meant I’m single.” Trying again, she said, “Come now, you know I’m right. I should be working instead of someone who has a spouse or children.”
“That should be you, too. You need to settle down like your sister.”
Gen had heard those words a hundred times. But after hearing how busy Margaret had been when they’d talked just days before, Gen didn’t feel quite so stung by her mother’s comment. Maybe Meg’s life wasn’t always perfect, either.
“Genevieve? Did you hear me?”
Probably the whole town of Beckley had! “Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you being cheeky?”
“No, Momma.” She had to get off the phone. Had to before she broke the receiver from gripping it so hard. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to a basketball game. Basketball’s a pretty big deal around here. The high school team’s doing a real good job.” Gen closed her eyes in frustration.
“Who’s taking you?” In a far more syrupy voice, her mother asked, “Do you have a date?”
The doorbell rang. “Yes.”
“Well, my goodness, Genevieve, do tell. What kind of man—”
“He’s at the door, and I shouldn’t keep him waiting. I’ve gotta go, Momma. Love you. Bye.”
Gen clicked off, ran to catch the door and opened it with a flourish. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself,” Cary said with a grin. “I didn’t realize you were living at Bonnie’s place.” As he took a quick look around the second-floor apartment, Gen was glad she hadn’t hesitated to rent it when Bonnie had given her a tour. “What’s it like living above her?”
“Good. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. It’s just that she can be a little...eccentric.”
Thinking of her conversation with her mother, Gen laughed. “I can be that way, too.” Remembering their first chat about Lion pride, Gen held out her arms to showcase her gold-and-black outfit. “So what do you think? Am I spirited enough?”
Cary skimmed his eyes over her black jeans, black T-shirt and gold scarf looped around her neck. “I think you look great,” he said with a
slow smile. “I like those jeans.”
They were a little more formfitting than the Levi’s she normally wore. Gen was glad she’d taken the time to look a bit more feminine. “Thanks,” she said simply, suddenly at a loss for what else to say. Good grief, was she blushing?
Quickly she grabbed her purse, closed the door behind her, then turned the bolt. “I’m ready.”
“Come on, then. I’m about to introduce you to some of the best Mexican food in Ohio.”
* * *
HOURS LATER, GEN decided that their evening had been just about perfect. Cary was easy to talk to, and his laid-back nature enabled Gen to at least pretend she could be that way, too.
Their dinner had been good, the restaurant noisy and crowded. Nearly half the patrons knew Cary and weren’t the least bit shy about walking over to their table to say hello.
Gen valiantly attempted to remember names, which was getting simpler since she saw more than a couple of familiar faces. Sam was there with Meagan. So was Cary’s brother, Dean. Gen couldn’t get over the resemblance between them and could tell they were close.
High school kids were crammed into too-small booths. Their raucous laughter encouraged everyone else in the place to speak loudly, too.
The enthusiasm evident at the restaurant had been a good warm-up for the game. As expected, still more familiar faces greeted Gen when she and Cary entered the gymnasium. Sergeant Conrad was on duty and waved them in. For nearly two hours Gen sat next to Cary as Melissa and her fellow cheerleaders jumped and cheered the Lions on to a historic victory.
When the final buzzer sounded and the whole gymnasium erupted into triumphant screams, Gen found herself singing the school’s fight song with everyone else.
It was only when they were alone again in Cary’s Explorer that she struggled for something to say.
“I’m glad you asked me to the game,” he said. “This was a lot of fun.”
Gen liked how much of a gentleman he was. While it was true that she’d asked him out, he’d been the one to make their date such a success. “I’m so glad they won.”
“Me, too. Tomorrow would have been horrible if they’d lost. I think I teach half the basketball team, and the rest of the students would have been devastated. Not to mention the whole town!”
Gen laughed. “I never thought about those consequences.”
“I can’t help but think about them.” Reaching out, he took her hand. “Even if they’d lost, I wouldn’t regret this evening. You, Gen Slate, are easy to be with. Kate was nothing like you.”
“Kate?” Gen’s radar went on immediately. She hoped she hadn’t just walked into another situation like the one she’d had with Keaton.
“Kate’s another teacher at school. We went out a few times before I met you.”
Gen didn’t need to be a cop to know that there was more to the story than he was sharing. “Why are we nothing alike?”
“Kate...just wasn’t who I thought she was.” Squeezing her hand, he said, “I’m so glad you and I can just be together and have a good time.”
After pulling into her driveway, Cary smiled. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
Together they walked up the small flight of stairs to her apartment, taking care to dodge the pots of geraniums Bonnie had just planted. Gen’s mind was working overtime. If only Cary knew how confused she felt. She’d never been comfortable dating. Now, after making the terrible assumption that her friendship with Keaton had been more romantic than it was, she wasn’t too comfortable with herself, either.
It felt strange to realize Cary may see her in a different light than Keaton ever had. “I’d better go in. I’m due in early tomorrow.” Why was she finding this so difficult?
“Okay.” He surprised her by holding out his hand.
She took it. Only Cary Hudson could make a simple handshake seem so much more than just two hands briefly touching. His hand was warm and solid and masculine, his fingers gentle against her own.
And then, well, things weren’t so sweet any longer. Cary tugged Gen toward him and clasped her other hand. Now they stood mere inches apart.
That’s when he kissed her. A hundred feelings rocked forth—surprise, panic, pleasure and the amazing knowledge that the very calm, cool and collected Cary Hudson really knew how to kiss.
Gen held on tight and hoped he wouldn’t step back anytime soon.
Because when he did, Gen knew she would miss kissing him, being in his arms. She would miss...him.
* * *
GEN STOPPED BY THE high school the next afternoon. After looking a bit more into the damage done to Melissa Hudson’s car, she’d decided the girl had been nothing more than the victim of a random prank. Dean hadn’t sounded too surprised when she’d called him at his office in downtown Cincinnati.
However, she decided the news was as good a reason as any to see Cary in person. After all, hadn’t Sergeant Conrad encouraged her to be more visible in the community?
After registering in the LEHS front office, she walked down the school halls. Gen nodded to a few kids, then paused as she saw a girl who looked awfully familiar. After a moment, Gen placed her. It was Amy Blythe—Melissa’s neighbor. Gen had done some checking on the girl, mainly because there wasn’t anyone else to investigate.
What she’d found had broken Gen’s heart. Like Melissa, Amy was an only child who lived with her dad. But that’s where the similarities ended. While Melissa had blossomed from both her father’s and uncle’s attention, Amy had veered in the other direction and retreated into herself when her father hadn’t been able to recover from the loss of his wife, after her death in a car accident.
When Gen caught the girl staring at her, she approached. “Any idea how to get to the math department? I keep getting turned around.”
“Sure. Math’s in the north wing. In the basement. Go down a flight of stairs, then turn left.”
The school really was a maze. “Mind reminding me where the stairs are?”
Amy looked around, her blond curls bobbing. “Go past five—” She stopped. “Never mind. I’ll take you.”
“It’s no trouble?”
“No...I needed to go there, anyway.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I’m Officer Slate, by the way.”
“Amy Blythe.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Amy looked surprised but said nothing. Within minutes they came to the stairs then started descending, the metal gently clanging under Gen’s thick-soled shoes and Amy’s boots.
Even though she already knew the answer, Gen asked, “What grade are you in?”
“Junior.”
“Ah. You’re almost done with school, then.”
“Yeah.”
There it was. A curious mixture of relief and worry. Gen knew the feeling. Back in Beckley, she’d been both eager and scared to leave high school and find out what the world held in store for her.
They turned left, their footsteps echoing on the worn linoleum. Gen noticed the halls were narrower in the basement, the ceiling slightly lower. Small windows and canister lighting lit the way.
The space felt claustrophobic.
Once again she was glad to be a cop. She’d hate being stuck down here day after day. How Cary did it, she wasn’t sure.
Gen decided to make one last-ditch attempt to make a connection with Amy; the girl looked as if she could use a friend.
“I’m new here in Lane’s End,” Gen said, sounding even to her own ears like a Chatty Cathy.
“I’m not. I can’t wait to leave.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. “I felt that way about my town. I grew up in a place smaller than this, in West Virginia.”
Amy wrinkled her nose. “I would have wanted to l
eave there, too.”
Gen laughed. They turned the corner and stopped short when they spied Cary and a pretty woman with silvery-blue eyes in the hall.
“Ah. There’s who I was looking for. Do you know Mr. Hudson?”
“Sure. Everyone does.”
“Who’s he talking to?”
“Ms. Daniels.” Amy frowned at the lady, so slim and graceful in a straight skirt and heels. “She teaches Spanish.”
Hearing the definite coolness in Amy’s voice, Gen prodded a little. “Not one for foreign languages?”
“Not one for her. She and Mr. Hudson used to date.” Amy scowled. “She broke up with him. I wonder why he’s being so nice to her now?”
So that was Kate.
Gen couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she had to agree with Amy. Cary and Kate looked as though they were getting along just fine.
Gen felt a stab of jealousy. What was the big deal? Cary and Kate were likely just discussing school matters. “Well, I’d better go interrupt so I can get on out of here,” Gen said, pushing herself away from the wall. “Thanks for your help.”
But to her surprise, Amy had already left.
* * *
CARY LOOKED HAPPY to see her. “Hey, Officer.”
“Hi.” Gen grinned at him, then turned her attention to the other woman.
“This is Kate.”
Since Kate’s warm smile had vanished, Gen played it cool. “Nice to meet you.” Turning to Cary, she said, “Can you spare me a minute? I’ve got a couple of items to go over with you.”
“Sure. I’ll see you, Kate.”
“Bye, Cary. Officer.”
As they entered Cary’s room, Gen was struck again about how much she enjoyed being in his presence—being surrounded by all things Cary. Even a place as innocuous as a math lab reminded her of the things she liked about him. Never mind that she found him especially attractive in his work garb. The faded, well-ironed khakis, button-down shirt with the frayed collar and cuffs and serviceable loafers made him seem both extremely handsome and terribly approachable.
“I just wanted to tell you that after speaking to a few more people, I don’t think we’re going to find the person who damaged Melissa’s car. Vandalism is extremely tough to prove since it’s difficult to find eyewitnesses.”
Starting Over at Lane's End (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 6
