by Jeannie Watt
She closed a file and tapped it on her desk to even the edges. A satisfied smile curved her lips until she glanced across the room and their gazes collided. Behind her glasses, coffee-brown eyes widened. Her cheeks turned pink. He found himself wondering if she dated and, if so, what kind of guy she went for. When she turned away, he knew his procrastinating had come to an end. With Chambers breathing down his neck, he needed to get some work done.
Her phone rang, and after a short conversation, she grabbed her bag and left.
The afternoon dragged on during his stint working the front desk. Hating every minute of being confined, it irked him that he answered the phone but couldn’t go on any calls. He took a break to pour himself some coffee, hoping caffeine would give him a much-needed jolt. Maybe he’d see which guys were participating in the mud run or engage in some office gossip to perk himself up. When he went back to the squad room, he noticed Ellie had returned.
Mug in hand, he sauntered to her desk. Leaned against the side.
“Heard you’re going to the mud run.”
Her head jerked up. “What? Who told you that?”
“Mason. Said he heard it from some guy over at the Palm Beach PD.”
“Well, he heard wrong. I have no intention of running in mud.”
“Chicken?”
Her eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Sane.”
“It could be fun.”
“Says who?”
Her horrified look had him chuckling. “I’ll take that as a definite no.”
“Because my first answer was unclear?”
“Touchy.”
She blinked at him. “Bleary-eyed.”
“Guess my wrangling you into reviewing my reports is moot.”
“I can’t provide information I have no knowledge of.”
“That’s right, we’ve never worked on a case together.” He took a sip of the bitter coffee and grimaced. “Although that might change. I’ll be around more often.”
“No new exciting cases?”
He shrugged. “Not for me. For a while, anyway.”
“So you hone your detective skills in the meantime.”
“Saying I’m rusty?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never worked with you.”
She’d used his words against him. He held up his mug and grinned.
“Not that I’ve asked not to be paired with you.”
“I never thought you did.”
She relaxed.
Add nice person to the mental list he’d been making about her earlier.
“How come you never go out with your fellow officers after work?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know. I’m not a terribly social person.”
“Why is that?”
She shoved her glasses up her nose. A nervous tick he’d noticed.
“Not good company, I guess.”
“Then why is a Palm Beach detective interested in you?”
Her mouth gaped open. “Why would you think that?”
“Because he told Mason.”
“Good grief,” she muttered under her breath, then met his gaze again. “I think work relationships are better left at work.”
Interesting. History there?
“Fair enough.”
The conversation lagged for a few moments. Ellie glanced at a clock on the wall. “I need to head out.”
“You never answered me about dinner tonight. Two colleagues discussing work over a burger and fries?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thank you.”
She stood, gathered her purse and slid the chair up to the everything-in-its-place desk. He wanted to mess it up and see her reaction. Instead, he moved aside as she passed, her light floral perfume following in her wake. “See you tomorrow.”
“’Bye.”
He returned to his desk, a little disappointed. He would have loved to wrangle the truth of why she avoided work relationships out of her, but not tonight. He settled back in and, to his surprise, finished the last of his tasks in no time.
An hour later he ran along the broad sidewalk in Soldier Park that was situated parallel to the ocean, loud, headbanging music keeping pace with his stride. After a day of being mostly cooped up, he needed to get rid of the excess energy. Running had always been a way to do just that.
Or cars. Tinkering with an engine always grounded him. He never understood why, just accepted the gift. Working on cars had not only given him focus, but he’d spent the best times of his life working alongside his dad. It was the one thing they’d had in common. And growing up with three older brothers, it was also the one thing he didn’t have to fight and scratch for to get his father’s attention. His bothers preferred other activities.
Coming to the end of his run, he slowed down. The sun was setting. The early-spring temperatures were still cool for Florida, but in the next months the thermometer would begin to inch up to the ninety-degree days of summer. Dante would have to get up at dawn to handle the heat while he ran, but it beat going to the gym. Just wasn’t the same as getting out in the fresh air, charging past couples out walking their dogs or parents playing with their kids at the playground.
He stopped the iPod and yanked out his earbuds. Instead of raging guitars, the water crashing onto the shore greeted his ears. He gazed out over the undulating water, taking a deep breath. Salty with a mix of suntan lotion. Sunset, his favorite time of the day. He found peace watching the sun disappear from the sky, dragging streaks of pinks and oranges fading to purple with it, until the sky went black.
He loved it here in Palm Cove. His brothers, Derrick and Deke, worked in different states, and Dylan, on the opposite coast of Florida. When Dylan found himself falling in love during a case, their mother had decided to move to be closer to the only woman who, she was certain, would ever be a possible daughter-in-law. Jasmine Matthews knew how to lay on a guilt trip just as her boys knew how to sidestep her tactics. It was a game they played, more so since their father had died. Mom needed a hobby and acting like her world would end if she didn’t have daughters and grandbabies worked for her.
A smile crossed his lips. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed her number.
“Dante. It’s been nearly a month,” his mother accused in way of greeting.
“I was undercover. I told you and Dylan.”
“Dylan’s been busy chasing after criminals. You boys need to give me better details.”
“We can’t always do that.”
“Please.” She tsked. “Your father always did.”
Dante knew that wasn’t the case. Daryl Matthews had been on the force for thirty-five years. There was no way he told his wife everything.
“I was just thinking about Dad.”
Her voice softened. “A good memory?”
“Cars.”
She laughed. “You two did have fun. How’s the Cobra?”
The ’65 Mustang he was currently retooling. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything my boys tell me.”
Which was eerily true.
“Still tinkering, but I decided to paint it red.”
“Racy choice. Your father would have approved.”
Would he? In Dante’s choice of car color or career choice?
“Something troubling you?” she asked with her weird mom ESP vibe.
“Not really. I had a conversation at work today about my career. Not sure how I feel about it.”
“Since when have you not been able to make a decision? All my sons are very professional when it comes to law enforcement. I’m proud of each and every one of you, but out of the bunch, I worry about you most.”
He hesitated. Asked the question he’d never wanted to broach with his mom, but now seemed like a good time. “You don’t like me going underc
over?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a few sleepless nights when I know you’re on a case.” The hesitancy in her voice made his chest clutch. “I may not know the particulars, but I know the situations you’re investigating can’t be good. Or safe.”
“I wonder sometimes if I could handle a job that required me to sit behind a desk more. It doesn’t seem natural.”
Jasmine laughed. “You never were one to be happy indoors.”
“Is moving up the ladder part of growing up? Dylan’s arrest rate at the DEA is impressive. Derrick has made a name for himself at the FBI and Deke is a well-respected forensic investigator. They’ve made great strides in their careers.” He tamped down the envy that threatened to bring him to his knees when he considered his brothers’ successes. He loved them; he just had a hard time following in their footsteps. “I guess I just never put a lot of emphasis on moving ahead in my career until now.”
“Then the question you need to ask yourself is, can you do the job?”
He thought about the sergeant’s test he’d passed. Studying had been excruciating, but he’d needed to prove to himself that he could do better than being the pesky kid brother who had to find inventive ways to keep up with his siblings.
He rolled his shoulders as he considered the question. Settled with, “I’m sure I could.”
“Okay, then ask yourself this. Do you want the job?”
He thought about his brothers again. Would he take a promotion just to be like them? To carry on the Matthews tradition to serve and protect? Or would he take a promotion, if it was offered, because he wanted the job?
“Guess I need to sleep on it.”
“Dante, whatever you decide to do in life, know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Your father would be, too.”
He swallowed hard. His father had supported him, but had also tried to temper Dante’s reckless streak when he was growing up. Tried to find activities Dante would find interest in to keep him out of trouble. And told his son it might cost him something he desperately wanted one day if he didn’t learn to control himself. Could a promotion be what he wanted? It certainly would have made his late father proud. Could he do it? The idea was planted in his brain now and he’d puzzle over it until he came up with an answer.
His mother broke into his thoughts. “When am I going to see you?”
“Maybe I can get over in the next week or two.”
“Don’t be a stranger. There’s this cute waitress who works at the local outdoor restaurant I’ve fallen in love with. She’d be perfect for you. I think—”
“Mom, I gotta run. Work might be calling me.”
“Might be? Dante Matthews—”
“Love you. Talk to you soon.”
Dante ended the call before his mother had him talked into calling this woman and asking her out on a date, sight unseen. He hoped Dylan got engaged soon, just to take the pressure off.
As he jogged back to his truck, he thought about work decisions, which then triggered visions of Ellie. Her lovely smile when she let her guard down. The deep brown of her eyes. She intrigued him, that’s for sure, which was odd, since she wasn’t his type. He went for women who were more put together in the looks department. Not that Eloise wasn’t pretty; she just hid behind the glasses, tightly pulled back hair and severe clothing choices. But his mother would love her.
Reason enough not to pursue the interest he’d discovered in her. He could already hear his mom humming the wedding march.
Copyright © 2018 by Tara Spicer
ISBN-13: 9781488085246
Her Montana Cowboy
Copyright © 2018 by Jeannie Steinman
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