“I was afraid,” he said, interrupting her train of thought. “Last night.”
“What?”
“Last night,” he repeated. And then proceeded to tell her what had happened at his house. “I was afraid that something I had done had, however unintentionally, put James in danger. The potential threat to myself I can deal with. The potential threat to my little brother is a tougher pill to swallow. Does the fact that I was afraid, for whatever reason, make me less capable? Make me less of a man?”
“Of course not,” Kathleen said on a sigh. “And okay, okay. Point taken.”
“You’ll do what needs to be done to find whoever is responsible for the incident with the doll, and you’ll put the bastard away. It’s your job, and you’re damn good at it.”
“I am good,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Aren’t I?” But then her smile faded. “Justin. You don’t need me to tell you that the person who’s doing this to you is – not to put too fine a point on it – crazy. You don’t need me to tell you to be careful.”
He brushed her hair back from her face. “No, I don’t need you to tell me. But it probably made you feel better to do it. Just like you didn’t need me to be here, but it made me feel better to come.”
After only the briefest of hesitations, Kathleen stepped in, laid her lips gently against his. “Maybe,” she whispered “I did need you. Just a little.”
The heat, the hint of pure male possession that flashed into his eyes was as gratifying as it was – still – unexpected.
He slid his hand into her hair, and when he kissed her this time, it was a good bit more than gentle.
Minutes later – or hell, maybe it had been hours, seeing as she’d lost all track of time – he broke off the kiss, laid his forehead against hers.
“One of these times.” He fought to steady his breathing. “I’m going to kiss you when we’re not outside in a rainstorm, or in a semi-public forum. And that time is going to be soon.”
With that, he stepped back, then stripped off his coat and tossed it over one of the waiting room sofas.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting comfortable,” he said as he plopped down, stretched his long legs out in front of him. “You mind if I change the channel?”
Kathleen flicked a glance at the TV. She’d barely been aware it was even on.
“No. But Justin, you don’t need –”
“To stay?” He raised a single brow. “Of course I don’t. But I want to. And besides, this will cut down considerably on my morning commute.”
Kathleen stood there, uncertain, while Justin surfed through the channels.
“Since you’re just standing there, why don’t you make yourself useful and bring me a cup of coffee.”
The request, uttered without even another glance in her direction, somehow made the situation seem less… important.
“What am I, your beck and call girl?”
“If you were my beck and call girl, you’d be doing something a lot more exciting than bringing me coffee.”
He smirked, and Kathleen felt the easy, familiar rhythm of their friendship kick back in.
“If this is the way you treat the nurses you date, no wonder they’re coming after you with scalpels.”
When he grinned, Kathleen’s heart gave one hard lurch.
Familiar rhythm? More like a slow waltz that segued unexpectedly into a tango.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KATHLEEN closed her tired eyes, hoping that the steam in the shower would bring the puffiness down.
Or maybe she was supposed to use something cold? It seemed that she recalled Sadie once slathering slices of cucumber, or some other vegetable she’d taken from the refrigerator, all over her face after they’d pulled an all-nighter. Not that Kathleen had any cucumbers handy, anyway.
She wondered if other women simply came by that sort of knowledge through osmosis, or perhaps it was programmed into a particular gene that Kathleen lacked. It wasn’t that she was masculine or anything, and she certainly enjoyed looking like – and being – a woman when the occasion called for it.
Like when Justin kissed her. She definitely enjoyed being a woman when Justin kissed her.
But she still seemed to lack the inherent female… sensibility, she guessed, which her sister and her cousin and her best friend all seemed to have in abundance.
Although – to their credit – the women in her family were also capable of kicking ass when they had to. If they weren’t, Kathleen would have felt a lot more awful about the conversation she’d had with her sister just before leaving the hospital. Aside from what Kathleen thought of as good old Irish temper, Maureen’s mother instinct had been on full-fledged, terrifying display at the idea that someone might threaten her baby.
Kathleen figured a mama bear would be no more formidable a foe than Maureen Murphy.
Shutting off the water, she reached blindly for a towel, stepped with legs that felt like limp noodles out of the shower. Unlike certain other people, who’d slept without moving on the cramped, uncomfortable waiting room sofa, Kathleen hadn’t been able to settle at all last night. She’d stalked from Maureen’s room to the nursery back to the waiting room in a restless sort of triangle, noting with first relief – and then annoyance – that all of those room’s occupants were sleeping peacefully. Even the baby. After Maureen had nursed her for the last time a little after midnight, the kid settled in for almost a solid five hours.
Justin slept like the proverbial brick, and then popped up – if not precisely bright-eyed, at least alert – before dropping a warm, sleepy kiss on her lips and then heading downstairs to the locker room.
Kathleen had left the hospital feeling exhausted, baffled and edgy.
As she dried her hair with the towel, Kathleen heard a muffled thunk coming from the kitchen. Her loft – a renovated storage space located on the third floor over Maureen’s pharmacy – had ridiculously high ceilings with exposed pipes and ductwork, so sound tended to carry.
The muttered curse following the thunk let her know for sure that she wasn’t alone.
Grabbing her robe from the hook on the bathroom door, Kathleen wrapped it around her before lifting her firearm from the counter. She wasn’t normally the type that felt she needed to be armed at all times, but that edginess with which she’d left the hospital carried a certain degree of caution.
Thumbing off the safety, she eased open the door, crouched low to avoid presenting an easy target. When she’d assured herself that her bedroom was clear, she waited three beats, heard no further noises coming from the kitchen. Moved rapidly into the living area, weapon drawn.
And nearly collided with Anthony as he came around the corner from the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said, nearly bobbling the two large Styrofoam takeout cups he carried. “I already spilled coffee on my shirt. Let’s try not to add blood to it.”
“Anthony.” Relieved, chagrined, Kathleen put the safety back on before lowering her firearm. “What the hell are you doing, sneaking around like that? I could have shot you.”
“Well, considering I was making about as much noise as your average elephant, I don’t think that sneaking is an accurate description. And I’ve never known you to shoot first, ask questions later.”
Because he was right, a flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks. And for the first time in their relationship, she felt self-conscious about the fact that she was standing there half-naked, wearing nothing more than a damp and clinging robe.
“Sorry.” She set the weapon on the sofa table, pulled the lapels of that robe a little tighter together. “I guess I’m a little on edge.”
He tilted his head, his night-dark eyes assessing. “That’s understandable, given the events of the past few days. Being run off the road, becoming an aunt for the first time, having someone threaten your family. That’s enough to make anyone jumpy.”
Kathleen closed her eyes as another layer of guilt added its weight to her shoulders.
/> She hadn’t called Anthony. Or texted him. Or sent up a freaking smoke signal. Not that they were in each other’s pockets so much that they conveyed every single aspect of their days, but yeah. All three of those things were pretty noteworthy. The fact that she hadn’t contacted him afterward was even more so.
“I should have called.”
“Well, should is a pretty subjective term. Here.” Shoving the cup – strong coffee, judging by its smell – into her hands, he placed his hand on the small of her back and maneuvered her around to the sofa.
Kathleen sat, too tired to object to being herded.
Shoving some books and stray papers aside, Anthony sat on the coffee table facing her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No. I don’t know. Who told you?”
“I still have friends on the force,” he said, referring to his former job with the Mount Pleasant police department. “I bumped into one of them, who brought up the incident of road rage, figuring I knew all about it. But since you hadn’t mentioned it yourself, I gave Mac a call. He filled me in on the rest.”
Of course he had. Mac, despite being a good friend and a hell of a partner, was also a champion meddler.
“I’m sorry,” Kathleen said, because any excuse she came out with was going to sound either insincere or inadequate. She was just no good at this relationship shit.
“Kathleen.” He didn’t touch her, didn’t grab her chin or anything and force her to look at him. He just waited. Patient.
Resigned, Kathleen met his steady gaze. “Do you remember the day we met?”
Wary now, Kathleen waited a beat. “Of course.”
“I got that zing the first time I saw you. After I found out you were a cop, intellectually I thought no, no. Bad idea. But my penis said Who cares? And we all know that in the battle between the intellect and the penis, the latter inevitably wins out.”
Smiling a little, Kathleen sipped her coffee. It was so strong it nearly stripped the skin from her tongue. “Inevitably.”
“And then almost immediately, we were involved in a case together. For you, that was a very emotional case as it involved your brother and your best friend. And then there was the accident.”
Guilt weighed even more heavily than it had a moment ago.
“Anthony –”
He merely held up a hand. “Let me finish. The accident added, oh, I guess you could say that the accident added weight to our previous physical attraction. We’d faced a life-threatening situation together.”
“A life-threatening situation for you. You turned the car, remember? So that the driver’s side took the brunt of the crash.” Because he’d been protecting Kathleen. The woman in which he was interested. And he’d lost his career due to that one foolishly chivalrous action.
He drank his coffee. “Do you think I’d have reacted differently if it had been a different cop in the seat next to me?”
“No.” Kathleen hunched her shoulders at his steady gaze. “Maybe.”
Anthony cast his eyes to the ceiling. “Kathleen,” he said, with just a touch of frustration. Or maybe amusement. “Honey, I would have done just exactly what I did, regardless of the gender, race, age or nationality of my passenger. I’m an equal opportunity good guy.”
Because that was definitely amusement in his tone, Kathleen straightened her spine. “Yeah, well being an equal opportunity good guy cost you your career.”
“Actually, it merely altered my career. Sure it was… disappointing, and even depressing at first. Change is never easy. And I could do without the lingering headaches. But let me tell you, I do not miss the police department. Private investigative work has it all over wading through bureaucratic red tape at every turn.”
The burden Kathleen had been feeling for the past several months eased just a little. She knew he was glad to be rid of the bureaucracy – he’d indicated as much before – but they’d never really discussed the accident, and her perceived role in his change of career.
However, as relieved as she was that they’d had this discussion, Kathleen realized that there was more left to say.
“I’m glad. Truly. You deserve to be happy.” And because he deserved to be happy, Kathleen squared her shoulders. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Brow lifting, he leaned back, casually sipped his coffee. “Oh?”
Why did she feel like a naughty child who had to confess to raiding the cookie jar? “We’ve always been straightforward with each other. About what we wanted. From this relationship, I mean.”
“We have,” he agreed. “It’s one of the things I’ve enjoyed most about you. You’re a sensible, straightforward female. That’s difficult to find, particularly in such a sexually appealing package.”
Because talking about sex right now inexplicably made her want to hunch her shoulders again, Kathleen plowed forward.
“I kissed Justin.” Actually, Justin had kissed her, but she’d been a more than willing participant.
Something passed behind his eyes, an emotion so fleeting that Kathleen couldn’t identify it, but then his mouth quirked on one side. “Well. That took longer than I expected.”
Kathleen slumped back against the sofa. “People keep saying that.” She felt like the slow kid in the classroom, and it made her temper spike. “I mean shit. Was there some kind of neon sign flashing over our heads or something? And if there was, why the hell did you continue to date me?”
“For a detective.” He took another drink of coffee. “You can be remarkably blind to certain things that are right in front of your face.”
Sadie and Declan had both said something remarkably similar, but coming from Anthony she found it irksome. Perhaps because he was himself a detective. Perhaps because she was already stressed and, yes, feeling both guilty and decidedly awkward. Perhaps because he’d realized something that she herself was just beginning to figure out, but had continued to have sex with her anyway.
Seeming to correctly interpret her line of thought, he raised a sardonic eyebrow. “I’m a guy. Penis, remember? Beats the intellect every time?”
Smiling, and it felt good to smile, Kathleen shook her head. “I feel like I should be apologizing.”
“My penis disagrees with you.”
“Oh, will you shut up.” But she said it without heat.
“Kathleen.” And this time he did touch her. Just to take her hand. “It’s been a good year. So don’t beat yourself up.”
He hesitated, then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. As he stood, he slipped the key to her front door from his ring.
“Anthony?” What exactly did one say in this situation? It’s been nice knowing you? “Thanks for the coffee.”
Which okay, was totally lame. But he smiled, understanding.
“No problem.”
Before he reached the door, he looked at her over his shoulder. “If you need anything, call me. I mean that.”
“Thanks,” Kathleen managed past the lump that had formed in her throat. “Same goes.”
He left the key on the hall table before he let himself out the door.
JUSTIN heard his name being called, and braced himself for yet another confrontation of the irate female variety. Mandy’s compatriots had been giving him alternately the cold shoulder or heated glares throughout most of the day. Apparently Mandy had spread the word about her encounter with the police, carefully edited to make Justin out to be the bad guy.
But when he turned, the wary frown on his face gave way to a genuine smile.
He opened his arms, which were quickly filled with a laughing Samantha Harding.
“You’re slipperier than a greased pig,” she said, patting him on the back before disengaging. “I spotted you about ten minutes ago, but you kept disappearing around corners before I could catch your attention.”
Justin scratched behind his ear. “I may have been avoiding being caught. I’m not the most popular guy with some of the nurses at the moment.”
“Well,
then they’re just stupid,” Sam said, leaping immediately to his defense. But she didn’t ask him to expound, for which he was grateful.
“No Molly today?” he asked, as it was rare to see her now without her infant daughter.
“She’s with Josh’s mom. I worked at the center this morning, and then just popped in to see Maureen and the baby. And oh. Sorry.” Fanning her hands at her face, she blinked hard against the sheen of tears in her hazel eyes. “I still haven’t gotten rid of all the pregnancy hormones, I guess. But the baby is so tiny, and I know that Molly is just going to look huge now when I see her. Time goes so fast.”
“Indeed it does.”
Because her casual mention of the rehab center brought the issue of addiction to the front of his mind, Justin looked around the corridor. They were close to the chapel, so he gestured with his hand.
“Do you have a few minutes to spare? I’d like to talk to you. Privately.”
“Sure,” Sam said, preceding him into the shadowy, hushed space. After determining that they were alone, she sat down on the nearest cushioned pew. “What’s up?”
Justin wasn’t sure how to bring this up without violating either or both of their oaths to maintain patient confidentiality. “I believe that we share an acquaintance. Shelley Kinson?”
“Oh. Shelley.” Sam grinned. “She has an enormous crush on you. Don’t tell me you brought me in here to pump me for information.” But when the look on his face registered, Sam’s smile slipped several notches. “What?”
“Ah, last evening she brought her roommate in. OD.”
“Oh my God, is she okay?”
“She will be. I don’t want to go into too many details, as I’m stepping on some boggy ground here with regards to privacy, but… there seems to be some question as to how the roommate came by the drugs she ingested. I’m not accusing Shelley of anything, and this really isn’t my business, but I seem to have been drawn into the situation. And the fact is, I feel an odd sense of… obligation to these women. More so than usual. The way this came about was out of the ordinary, almost a combat scenario, and I think it left an impression, psychologically. I just want to make sure they’re okay. Both of them.”
The Southern Comfort Series Box Set Page 137
