The Grand Opening

by Ava Miles

  She shoved the chair, knocking it into the table. “You think lying to me and refusing to give me a suspect is respecting my career?”

  His hand thrust out. “Like I told you, I despise lying. There are reasons I can’t tell you what I know. You’d be obligated to report it, and I can’t have that.”

  “This is a felony we’re talking about.” She rounded on him. “Someone called a bomb threat in to a major tourist venue in my town. He or she needs to be brought to justice.”

  At least they agreed on that, if not the terms.

  “I’m taking care of it.”

  Her mouth parted before slamming shut. “You’re taking care of it? Who the hell do you think you are? I’m the law around here.”

  The door popped open. Dustin poked his head in and glared at them. “Stop yelling at each other!” he hissed. “It’s upsetting Keith. Why don’t you lower your voices or go somewhere else and argue? He’s just a kid.”

  Dustin’s protectiveness shamed him. “Sorry. We weren’t thinking.” He’d lost his cool again—Peggy had a knack for making that happen. He dug into his wallet. “Why don’t you walk with Keith downtown for some ice cream? I’ll pick you up once we’ve finished.”

  His nephew grabbed the twenty and stuffed it into his pocket before Peggy could answer. “Whatever.” The door slammed as he left.

  Mac ran both hands through his hair. “Well, it seems like we’ve both lost the Adult gene. I’m sorry I yelled.”

  She didn’t say anything. Her hands were still clenching and unclenching on the chair.

  “Let’s take a minute, okay?” he suggested. “Start again.”

  The fire in her eyes was now an inferno. “I never yell in front of my kid. Get out.” Her voice could have pulverized rocks.

  He covered the space between them and put his hands on her shoulders. She shoved at his chest.

  “I’m not leaving. Why do you think we’ve both lost it?”

  “I told you—”

  “No! I won’t leave. Listen to me. I came to the conclusion I am full–on in love with you.”

  She gasped like he’d just shot her.

  “When you walked out on me today, it made me… Jesus.” He squeezed her shoulders, trying to make her see. “I don’t want to lose you over this. I’m asking you to trust me this one time. I have reasons I can’t share.”

  She raised her arms, knocking his hands away. “Trust you? Who are you kidding? You’re exactly who I thought you were the day you walked into town.”

  He nearly pulled his hair. “Bullshit! You know better. That’s why you’re scared. I love you, Peg. I need your trust here.” And it seemed just about as far away as Timbuktu.

  “Stop saying that! Tell me what you know or get out.”

  “Look, I took a heck of a risk telling you I knew anything. ” His fist punched the air. “You’re like a pit bull with your job. You could have me subpoenaed. I was willing to do it because I couldn’t lose you without trying to work this out.”

  His head swooped down. His mouth crushed her lips. She elbowed him once before opening her mouth, her teeth biting at his lips, her tongue thrusting madly against his. He pushed her against the wall. Drew her hands up over her head and simply ravaged her, pouring all the love and fear and pain she’d created inside him into the kiss. She bucked wildly against him. His hips jammed hers into the wall. He wanted to take her, make her moan, make her quake. Make her love him.

  He drew back from the madness and kissed her again, with tenderness and gentleness. Their foreheads pressed together. Her breath sobbed out. She tried to break free of his hold, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “I love you,” he breathed out. “Don’t send me away.”

  Her hands gripped his, hard enough to make his knuckles pop. “I can’t be with someone who lies to me. And you don’t love me. You don’t even trust me to do my job.”

  He drew back. “I trust you too much to do your job. That’s why I can’t tell you.”

  She merely shook her head, her expression desolate.

  He was losing her, and he knew it. He searched for something to make her understand. Keith’s drawings on the refrigerator caught his eye. He had to tell her more, and pray the mother inside her would understand, even if the deputy didn’t. They wouldn’t make it with this chasm between them.

  He took an agonized breath. “Okay, if that’s what it’s going to take, then I call your raise. Peg, the threat has something to do with Dustin. I can’t follow the normal course here.”

  “Dustin did it? Dammit! And you sent him off with my son?”

  “No, Dustin didn’t do it, but it relates to him. I’m hoping the mother in you will listen to me. I struggled with this, Peg—hard—but I had to handle things behind closed doors.”

  She closed her eyes. “Let me go,” she whispered. He heard it as a plea from the emerging woman, the one he’d hurt, the one he loved.

  His heart squeezed. “No, that’s the one thing I can’t do. But I’ll tell you everything if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

  God, he hoped she’d understand. He knew he was putting her in a hell of a position, not to mention risking his family. But he just didn’t see a choice.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared at him for a long moment.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  “Do you promise not to slug me or run off?”

  She nodded and clutched her throat when he let her go. The phone rang, but she didn’t move toward it.

  “Do you need to get that?”

  “No, it’s probably Jill.”

  His relief was immediate. She wasn’t looking for an excuse to ignore him.

  “She’s been calling all afternoon. I don’t know what to say.”

  “She was worried after the way you left the hotel.” Just like he’d been.

  “Peppered you with questions, did she?”

  He snorted. “Jill can ask. Doesn’t mean I answer.”

  She nodded her understanding and strode to the cupboard. “Want some water?”

  “Sure.”

  He’d take a peace offering. God knows his mouth tasted like he’d feasted on sand. He reached for the glasses she extended and filled them with ice and water from the refrigerator, handing one to her. Then he followed her into the living room. The water cooled his raw throat.

  She crossed her arms when she settled onto the sofa. He wondered if she did the same when she was interviewing a suspect. Since she didn’t have a love seat, he sat next to her, turning his body toward her.

  “I know I’ve mentioned how angry Dustin was about leaving high school and all his friends.”

  She didn’t move a muscle.

  “What I hadn’t counted on was that one of Dustin’s friends was mad at me for taking him away. He wanted to punish me for Dustin’s sake.”

  “One of his friends did this?” she finally asked.

  “Yes. The kid’s a punk. I was furious when Dustin told me, but I thought about the most fitting punishment for a few days and asked for Abbie’s input.”

  Her fingerprints etched the glass when she put it down on the scuffed black coffee table. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was the clinking of ice cubes as he drank.

  “That was pretty brave of Dustin, telling you,” she finally said.

  Since she seemed to be coming down from her rocket–powered rage, he huffed out a laugh. “Well, I’m not sure he would have even found out if I hadn’t offered the reward. Their other friend decided he needed the college money, so he spilled the truth to Dustin.”

  She picked up her glass again and rested it against her stomach. The condensation wet her simple white T–shirt. He tried not to stare.

  “Prisoner’s dilemma,” she commented.

  “Sort of. I gave the kid his reward. As for the punk, I didn’t know whether turning him in was the best course, or if we should handle it between our two families. I talked to the parents and the kid himself
to make sure a lesson could be driven home and his parents would hold his feet to the fire. They passed the test, so I had my lawyers draw up a legal agreement. The kid has to do five hundred hours of community service at charities selected by Abbie and me, and it can’t be used on his college applications.”

  Her expression didn’t shift, so he continued. “We have monitoring visits and check–ins set up for the next year. If I’m satisfied the kid’s improved, we won’t add a second year of community service, anger management therapy, or counseling. The parents and the kid know they’re lucky I didn’t take him to court. Everyone signed the agreement.”

  “Why didn’t you press charges against the kid if he’s a punk?”

  One reason: Dustin. “I thought about it. Dammit, I wanted to hang him from the nearest flagpole for scaring the crap out of me. Do you have any idea how I felt, knowing you were inside the hotel while they searched for a bomb?”

  She drank from her glass, giving it her undivided attention.

  “And I had nightmares for days afterward, imagining Dustin and Abbie and all my friends and guests dying in an explosion. I can handle the money loss and the bad press, but the people… That wasn’t easy to forgive.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He might do it again.”

  He blew out a long breath slowly, like he would have with pricy Gurkha Black Dragon cigar smoke. “We all need a second chance. The kid understands this is his. Plus, this shows Dustin that there are consequences without making his friend into a martyr. I didn’t want to push my nephew away. Plus, he did the right thing. He told me the truth.”

  Her finger circled the rim of the glass. “After the reward worked its magic.”

  He leaned toward her. “The reward brought the truth to light. Dustin told me as soon as he found out. He’s a good kid.”

  “And yet, here he is doing yard work at my house for speeding and evading the law.”

  “Does no one get a second chance with you, Peg?”

  He almost didn’t want the answer.

  Her lashes slid down, veiling her eyes. “No.”

  “Not even me?” He wanted to touch her—one simple connection to remind her of what they had—but he knew she’d push him away. “Now do you understand? Dustin might be my nephew, but I’ve raised him as my own. I’ve sat up with him when he had a fever. I’ve taught him multiplication tables. I’ve…I’d do anything for him, Peg.”

  She scowled and waved a hand in the air. “Fine. I get it. Okay?”

  His hand covered hers. The muscles bunched before they relaxed.

  “I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position. Truly.”

  Her brow winged up. “Yet you’ve put me in a difficult position anyway by telling me.”

  His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “I couldn’t lose you. I meant what I said earlier. I love you. I don’t care if that makes you want to kick me in the nuts.”

  She stood abruptly, breaking away from him. “This isn’t going to work.”

  ”You’re running because of a romantic declaration, Peg?”

  Her smirk made him break out in sweat under his shirt. “Right, because I’m not an adult,” she said.

  He rose and grabbed her arms. “We’re all insecure with someone in the beginning. I haven’t handled things exactly like I wanted, but I’ve adjusted course. I don’t want this to end, Peg, not when it’s just starting. Tell me honestly. Do you?”

  She stared at something over his shoulder. “Things are getting too complicated.”

  With a capital C. “They have been since the day we met.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Give us a chance. Haven’t we been having a good time—inside the bedroom and out?”

  He felt like he was arguing for a land ordinance before the town council, putting all his charm and persuasion behind his words.

  “Don’t ever pull anything like that again.” Her voice was as flat as her stare.

  She couldn’t voice her hurt, but he could see it in the tense lines around her mouth, in her tough–as–nails gaze.

  “I won’t. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t respect you.”

  “Fine. I’m sorry too.”

  His arm circled her, and she didn’t bolt. He curved the other one around her waist until he could lock his hands around her.

  They stayed like that for a moment, and then she pulled back to look into his eyes. “What was that kiss earlier?”

  “That was the I–don’t–know–if–I’ll–ever–kiss–you–again kiss.”

  Her liquid eyes scanned his face. “Think you could do an impression?”

  So, she wasn’t going to talk about him admitting he loved her. Why was he surprised? Worse, why was he hurt?

  “My Foghorn Leghorn is better.”

  Her smile started slowly, like slight trickle from a gardening hose until it turns into a full gush. “I object to being kissed by a chicken.”

  His lips nuzzled her neck. “Well, then, I suppose I can practice it.” The atomic clock in the family room signaled that they had more time. “I might have more than kissing in mind.”

  She strode across the linoleum. “Me too.”

  “Let me tell Dustin we’ll pick them up in a while.” His fingers keyed in the text. “It’ll have to be quicker than I’d like.” Quicker than making love to the woman he’d finally admitted to loving.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it memorable.”

  As she left the room, he stared at Dustin’s face on his phone display, thought about how he’d given Peggy the means to hurt his family by doing her duty.

  He’d gone with his gut by deciding to trust her.

  Doing so might be the biggest gamble of his life.

  Chapter 32

  Peggy caught sight of her flushed face in the hallway mirror and pressed her hands to her cheeks. Mac’s footsteps echoed behind her on the linoleum floor.

  What in the world was she doing?

  Another force seemed to have taken control of her body. How else could she explain letting the Big Three words make her this mushy? Her heart had expanded instantly, just like the Grinch in that Dr. Seuss cartoon Keith loved to watch.

  Mac’s hand covered hers when he caught up to her. He smiled, tightening his grip, as they walked up the stairs together. Her lips tingled with energy, and the tug of a smile broke free. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  She picked up her pace, pulling him along to her bedroom. When she crossed the threshold, nerves popped up like gravel from a semi–truck. Her unmade bed was covered in laundry. She darted forward to gather up the clothes, her face burning now, balling up her clean, but old panties in one hand.

  Mac picked up a heap of clothes. “If we had more time, I’d help you fold.”

  Her legs almost gave out. A man who volunteered for laundry?

  “I have a better idea.” He bundled the comforter and sheet into a lump resembling a bean bag, efficiently corralling the laundry. He dumped it in the corner. “There. Now we have a clear path.”

  Right. It’s not like they’d need a comforter. She pretty much didn’t care if they even used the bed.

  He held out his hand to her. “Come here, Peg.”

  That force nudged her forward again. He framed her face with his hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks, making her feel cherished. Oh God, that’s exactly why she was here. No one had ever done that for her before. She closed her eyes, the ground moving under her feet again, just like it had when he’d said those three damn words.

  His mouth feathered her eyelids—a bit weird, but pleasant—and continued across her brow.

  “I…you said we didn’t have a lot of time,” she said in a shaky voice, one she didn’t recognize.

  He made a humming sound as he caressed her face and then moved to her neck, spreading fires across her skin. “I forgot how much Dustin loves to eat and spend my money. He’s going to milk this for all it’s worth.”

  Right. His speed–happy nephew was taking care of her
kid. He had a friend who called in bomb threats. And another who blew whistles. Dustin was like a black–and–white cookie. Could he be trusted?

  “Maybe we should go get them now.”

  He pressed an open–mouthed kiss to her neck in a place that drove her wild. One knee buckled. His warm hands wrapped around her hips, and he pressed his fabulous erection into her side. “They’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  That command again. His velvety voice vaporized her mommy–nerves and brought her further under his spell—the one he’d cast over her the first time they’d met.

  “Kiss me, dammit!” she finally demanded, tired of her wandering thoughts.

  He framed her face again. “Your wish is my command, love.”

  Not the L–word. It rattled her to the core.

  His mouth sipped at hers, kissing the corners. She opened her lips and took the kiss to dark, carnal levels, rubbing her tongue against his in a silky dance, sucking on his bottom lip. She tugged on his cargo shorts, wanting to feel his hot skin against hers.

  He undid her shorts and chucked them to the floor. Snagged her panties down her legs. She stepped out of them and stripped off her shirt. He did the same and came toward her—all naked, mouth–watering male. She pressed her face into his chest, nipping at the skin and following the dark trail down to his stomach.

  “Oh, no you don’t. I wouldn’t be able to take it, and Peg, I plan to make love to you until you call out my name.”

  Didn’t she always?

  He nudged her backward until her knees hit the bed. She lowered her body, and he followed her down, guiding her legs apart. His mouth took her breast, sucking softly at first and then with increasing pressure. Her elbows gave out. She fell back onto the mattress, her heels digging into the bed. His finger dipped into her core and caressed her with unmistakable tenderness.

  The emotion, the heat, and the lust brought her to a quick orgasm. She panted as his touch deepened.

  “Give me more,” he commanded.

  Like she had a choice.

  The tug from his fingers pushed her higher, the pleasure making everything inside her pulse long and hard.

  A foil packet tore. She opened her eyes and watched as he slid on the condom. Rising to her elbows, she feathered his erection. He took away her hand and grabbed the other. Stretched out full length over her and pressed inside slowly, stretching her, filling her to the quick. He kissed her lips and then backed up a foot from her face.