by Lisa Childs
He suppressed a groan and lied to the watch commander, “I hadn’t noticed.”
Paddy laughed, knowing him so well that he had to realize Chad lied. “Well, helping me out as one of the class instructors will give you time to notice.”
“She probably won’t even show up.” He hoped.
HIS STOMACH FLIPPED as Tessa Howard, blond hair swinging around her shoulders, settled onto a chair at the table in the front row—just feet away from where Chad Michalski sat with the other instructors. While most of the rest of the class had dressed casually in either jeans or khakis and sweaters or sweatshirts, Tessa wore a suit similar to the one she’d worn in court. A tailored, pinstriped navy blue jacket cinched her slim waist while a slim pencil skirt ended above her knees but inched farther up her thighs as she crossed her legs.
Chad swallowed hard and shifted on his chair. If only he’d kept quiet in court…
The watch commander nudged his shoulder. “Tessa Howard?”
He nodded.
“Now I understand why—”
Chad nudged him back. “Don’t you have a class to teach?”
Paddy grinned, but stood up and addressed the group of citizens and instructors gathered in the third-floor meeting room. “Welcome to the Lakewood Police Department’s Citizens’ Police Academy.”
Welcome? Tessa bit her bottom lip to hold in a chuckle. Welcome implied she attended the class of her own free will. Her attention shifted from the man standing before the table at the front of the spacious, white-walled, low-ceilinged room to one of the men sitting behind the table. Her gaze locked with Lieutenant Chad Michalski’s.
“Oh, good choice,” murmured the girl beside Tessa. She leaned closer as if they were passing notes in class. “He’s single, too. I already checked. He’s a little old for me, though, but he sure is yummy.”
Tessa snorted although she wasn’t certain to what she’d taken exception—the lieutenant being called yummy or old. He definitely wasn’t old; she estimated early thirties, at the most. He continued to stare at her, his jaw taut probably with disapproval, as if she were the one talking during class. Because she’d been late, she’d had no choice of where to sit—the chair next to the young girl at the first table had been the only one still vacant.
“We’re going to go around the room and have everyone introduce themselves,” the officer continued. He was obviously the leader of the class. From the e-mail she had received with the date, time and directions to the police department, she had learned his name was Lieutenant Patrick O’Donnell. “And then I’ll introduce the other instructors. A little later we’ll meet the chief of police and the district captains.”
Tessa had lived her entire twenty-seven years in Lakewood, Michigan, but yet she had no idea how many districts comprised the bustling, midsized city. The only contact she’d had with the police department, besides getting and paying for tickets, had been when she’d tried to sign them up for their phone and Internet service accounts.
O’Donnell stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the table at which Tessa sat, her briefcase propped against her chair. “Let’s start with this table.”
With a giggle, the young girl spoke up. “My name’s Amy, Amy Wilson. I’m a college student, and I joined the academy because I’m interested in law enforcement.”
Tessa held in another derisive snort. The girl was obviously more interested in law enforcers than enforcement. The dark-haired woman on the other side of Tessa smiled, apparently having drawn the same conclusion. Lieutenant O’Donnell nodded at Tessa to introduce herself. “Tessa Howard. I’m a sales rep for a telecommunications company.”
“And your reason for joining the academy?” he prodded.
She glanced at Chad, who smirked. The truth stuck in her throat, so she smiled and joked, “I thought maybe I’d get some inside information on where the speed traps are.”
The class and some of the instructors chuckled. But not Chad. The slight grin dropped from his handsome face, and his green eyes hardened with definite disapproval. The guy had no sense of humor.
It was going to be a long fifteen weeks…
“I’M SURPRISED you showed up,” a deep voice murmured close to her ear as Tessa waited for the elevator. She tensed, realizing she was alone with him. The third floor of the police department was deserted except for the two of them. She’d had to take a call, so she’d missed walking out with the rest of the class. Heck, she had missed whatever had happened after the last break since she had stayed in the restroom, on the phone.
“I wasn’t given much choice,” she reminded him as she jabbed the Down button again. If she knew where the stairs were, she would have already been in the lobby. Her phone vibrated, then chimed as she received a text.
“You could have chosen to accept the ticket.”
“And lose my license?” She shook her head as she pulled out her phone and read the message. “And my job? I had no choice.”
“You do now.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning toward him. She didn’t dare hope that he had changed his mind, but she had to ask, “Are you going to let me out of the academy?”
Irritation furrowed his brow, and he pushed a hand through his dark hair. “No. The judge only agreed to this with the stipulation that you don’t miss a single class.”
“I won’t—”
“You missed half the class.” He reached for her and wrapped his fingers around her hand that held the cell. “Because of this.”
Her skin tingling, Tessa pulled away just as the elevator doors finally slid open. She stepped inside and reached for the L button. So did he, his hand brushing hers again.
“I can’t miss any calls,” she said, but refrained from offering any further explanation. As the doors closed them into the small car together, Tessa drew in a shaky breath.
“It’s one night. Just a few hours. You can return your missed calls later,” he said, “not during class. The choice you have is to show up every week and either sit and pout, or participate.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t pout.”
“Sulk, then.”
She opened then closed her mouth, unable to disagree with his observation. Thinking of what she was missing while at the academy, she had sulked.
“If you participate, you might find you learn something,” he pointed out as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to the deserted lobby, “and enjoy yourself.”
She might, but she wouldn’t admit that to him. “The other people in class sound interesting,” she said, thinking of the witty introductions of everyone from a reporter for the Lakewood Chronicle, the dark-haired woman sitting on the other side of her, some Neighborhood Watch captains, a couple of teachers, a youth minister, a former gang member turned youth center founder to an elderly couple who had admitted taking the class for thrills. Heck, even the mayor’s daughter was taking the class although, given her reputation, her participation might not have been voluntary, either.
“And they’re interested,” the lieutenant persisted, “in learning.”
“You don’t think I am?” she asked.
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling and etching deep creases in his cheeks. Tessa’s breath caught at the transformation. Maybe Amy was right; he was yummy.
“I know you’re not interested.”
Once again, she couldn’t lie, so she just smiled. “Well, only fourteen more classes to go. See you next week, Lieutenant.” She turned toward the doors to the street.
But he walked across the lobby with her, shortening his long strides to match hers. Then he pushed open the glass door.
“Thanks for seeing me out,” she said as she passed through the doorway.
“Did you park in the ramp around the block?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It’s almost eleven,” he pointed out as he followed her onto the sidewalk.
Tall buildings, the windows dark after hours, flanked the cobblestone street. “This isn’t the safest neighborhood at night.”
“That’s pretty ironic,” she mused. “I would have figured the neighborhood around the police department would be the safest place in the city.”
“You’d figure, huh?” he agreed as he stepped closer as if shielding her with his body.
Even though he didn’t touch her, Tessa’s skin tingled again. She shook her head, disgusted with herself for acting as hormonal as the barely-out-of-her-teens, police-groupie Amy. Even if Tessa did go for men in uniform, this would be the last man to whom she would be attracted.
“Is it because of the jail?” she asked. “Why it isn’t safe here?”
“Booking and lock-up is in a separate building, blocks away,” he assured her. “But there are some muggers and car thieves who prey on the after-theater and bar crowd.”
“Well, I’m not coming from the theater or a bar, so you really don’t need to walk me to my car,” she insisted, her heels clicking against the concrete as she quickened her pace. Despite it being early September, a brisk wind blew off Lake Michigan, which was only miles from downtown Lakewood, cooling the night air.
“Since the rest of the class left before you, I can’t let you walk out alone here,” he said, his voice thickening with some of the frustration she felt.
Shadows shifted around the buildings, and Tessa’s grip tightened on her briefcase. “You take this whole serve-and-protect thing seriously.”
“Protect and serve,” Chad corrected her. “And yes, I do.” That was the only reason he had suggested she enroll in the CPA—for her protection and the protection of everyone else on the road. Not because he was attracted to her. He could not be attracted to her. Yet his gaze skimmed down her body, over the wiggle of her hips as she stalked toward the parking garage in the high heels that brought the top of her blond head nearly to the level of his chin.
“Whatever,” she said, dismissive of a police officer’s sacred oath, “You take it too seriously.”
He bit back a laugh as he followed her up the ramp of the parking garage. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a more self-involved woman.”
Her blond hair swayed across her back as she swung her head toward him. She gasped, and her blue eyes widened with surprise. “You think I’m self-involved?”
Thinking of her shameless flirting and constant phone calls and texts, he snorted. “I don’t think. I know it.”
“You don’t know me at all,” she said, heels slamming into the concrete as she stalked up the ramp.
“I know your type.”
“What’s my type?” she asked, but didn’t even slow down for his answer.
He caught her arm, drawing her to a halt just steps from her black SUV, which she probably would have stormed right past. “You’re beautiful.”
She spun toward him, her mouth falling open at his compliment.
Desire kicked him in the ribs. He wanted to kiss her. “Vivacious,” he continued. “Reckless.” And that was why he couldn’t kiss her. “With total disregard for your safety or anyone else’s.”
She pulled keys from her briefcase, her hand shaking so much that they jangled, and unlocked her SUV. “I am not reckless.”
“Your driving record proves otherwise.”
She shrugged. “A few speeding tickets.”
“One with an accident,” he reminded her.
She laughed, albeit without humor. “I hit a patch of black ice and slid off the road into a mailbox.”
He tensed, dread tightening his stomach muscles. “It could have just as easily been a tree or utility pole.”
“It wasn’t.” She lifted her chin. “And I didn’t even put a dent in my vehicle.”
“The mailbox wasn’t so lucky,” he pressed. “You need to slow down. Stop being so reckless…”
“I wasn’t going fast. And I’m not reckless. You don’t know me,” she insisted as she pulled open the driver’s door.
He nodded as if he agreed with her, even though he didn’t. “Let’s keep it that way.”
As she planted her toe on the running board, Chad palmed her head, so she wouldn’t hit the metal doorjamb. Her silky hair brushed his palm. She ducked her chin, pulling away from him, and her eyes darkened with anger. “Let’s keep it that way,” she agreed.
Chad winced as she started the SUV, grinding the engine, then peeled out of the ramp with such speed that the gate, raised after hours, rattled.
“You’re wrong,” he murmured. “I know you, Tessa Howard. I know I don’t want anything to do with you…”
But to protect and serve. That was the oath by which he lived. His only reason for living now…
Chapter Two
Shaking from her argument with the lieutenant, Tessa fumbled with her keys to her ranch house. Before she could unlock the door, the knob turned beneath her palm and the door opened. She jumped back, startled.
“Gee, Tess—”
“What are you still doing up?” she asked her younger brother. Since summer vacation had just ended, getting him back in the habit of going to bed early hadn’t been easy.
Christopher, clad in his superhero pajamas, stepped back from the doorway. “I just texted you a little while ago.”
“When you should have been in bed,” she admonished the ten-year-old as she joined him in the country kitchen with its warm oak cupboards and green-apple painted walls. “And what did I tell you about opening up that door without knowing who’s on the other side?”
“I knew it was you,” he said as he climbed onto a chair at the long oak trestle table. “I saw you drive up.”
“You shouldn’t have been waiting up for me.”
“What was the police academy like?” he asked, his blue eyes bright with excitement as he stared up at her. “Did they let you shoot a gun?”
She bit her lip to hold back a smile. “No. It’s not like that.” At least she hoped not, because she should definitely not be trusted with a gun around the lieutenant. “It’s the citizens’ police academy.”
“So what was it like?” Christopher asked, still awed. “What did you do in class?”
She shrugged. “Not much. It was just a bunch of people talking.”
The chief had given a rather eloquent speech with a short question-and-answer period, and each district captain had talked about the areas for which they were responsible. Then the instructor for each session had been about to speak when she had slipped away to return her missed calls. From what she could tell so far, the purpose of the academy was to teach people how the police department and police officers worked, which would be fine if she had any interest, either. But she didn’t. No interest in any police officer.
“Tess!” Christopher yelled as if he’d been trying to get her attention. “Did you ask if I can come next week?”
She shook her head. “No—”
“Tess!” The little boy’s voice squeaked with indignation. “Why didn’t you ask?”
“Because you can’t come. The class isn’t over until past your bedtime.” Although Christopher was not much smaller than her, she lifted him from the chair. Her arms and back strained in protest of the exertion. She breathed deeply, inhaling the fruity scent of his shampoo. At least he’d had a bath, but it looked as if no one had untangled his mop of dishwater-blond curls. “And that’s where you’re going right now—to bed.”
He wriggled out of her arms and protested, “I’m not a baby, Tess.”
“You need your sleep. You should already be in bed,” she reproached him, playfully swatting at his pajama-covered bottom as he headed down the hall.
“Audrey?” she called out in a loud whisper for her fourteen-year-old sister, who was supposed to have been watching the younger kids while their mother was at work and Tessa had been at the damn class she didn’t have time to take. As Tessa had feared, Audrey wasn’t responsible enough yet to handle the others. Besides Christopher and Audrey, there were three more ki
ds.
Tessa poked her head into the first doorway off the hall, where Christopher climbed the ladder of a bunk bed to the top bed. On the bottom bunk slept their brother Joey, the blankets kicked off his small body. Tessa crept forward and pulled the covers to his chin, then pushed back his tangle of brown bangs and pressed a kiss against the five-year-old’s forehead.
He murmured in his sleep. “Mommy…”
“No, she’ll be home in the morning,” she assured him as he drifted back to sleep. After tucking in Christopher, despite his protests, she headed back into the hall and collided with Audrey.
The dark-haired girl was already taller than Tessa, and should have been able to handle the younger kids at least. “Hey, Tess…”
“Where have you been?” she asked, then answered her own question. “On the computer, of course.”
“I had to finish my homework.” The girl’s blue eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare. “You wouldn’t help me.”
Tessa had tried; she’d been on the phone with Audrey most of the second half of the class, when she hadn’t been calling Kevin.
“Where’s your older brother?” she asked. “Did he go out?” Even though Tessa had told him before she’d left for the police department that he couldn’t?
Audrey shrugged. “I dunno.”
Tessa sighed. If Mom let him get his license, like the sixteen-year-old wanted, they wouldn’t be able to control the kid at all anymore. He came and went as he wanted now, with no regard to curfew. A headache began to throb at her temples. She would deal with Kevin later. “And Suzie?”
“She just got to sleep.”
Probably because Audrey had kept the seven-year-old awake when she’d been using the computer in their shared bedroom. “You better go to bed, too,” Tessa said.
“But my homework…” Audrey whined, her lips forming the pout of which the lieutenant had accused Tessa.
“You just said you finished it,” she reminded the teenager.
“But you need to check it,” Audrey insisted. “I’m barely passing algebra.”
