Watch Over (The DeLuca Family Book 1)

by Amy Reece

  “Hit and run while I was jogging. It was almost three months ago.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ve been in the hospital and then rehab ever since. Well, I was staying with my parents most recently, but I needed to get back to my own place. I’ll be out of this chair soon. Hopefully. I had another surgery last week that should enable me to begin using crutches in a week or so.”

  “That will be nice for you. You must be going nuts being stuck in that chair, huh? You’re a police officer, aren’t you?” She was using all her latent social skills, trying to maintain something of a conversation. He was so good-looking it was hard to believe she was sitting here talking to him. Can you say way out of my league?

  “Yeah, I’m a cop. I actually just made detective, literally two months before I got hit. Rotten luck, huh? What do you do, Mel?” He reached for another piece of banana bread, slathering it with butter. “This is really great. Thanks.” He grinned, causing her insides to actually flutter. She didn’t get out much; being in such close proximity to an incredibly handsome man was messing with her equilibrium. She needed to get out of here before she said something stupid. He was staring at her, eyebrows raised, and she realized she’d been so busy thinking she’d missed what he’d said.

  “Sorry. What was the question?”

  “What do you do? For a living, I mean.”

  “Oh. I’m a graphic designer. I work from home. Contract stuff, mostly. I also write.” She bit her lip and started clearing their plates.

  “That’s cool. What do you write? Here, let me get that.” He took the plates from her, set them on his lap, and wheeled to the sink.

  “Um, I write contemporary romance.” Why was she always embarrassed to talk about her writing? She certainly wasn’t ashamed of it—in fact, she was proud of what she’d achieved—finding an agent and landing a publishing deal—yet she always found herself downplaying it.

  “Really? Can I read one of your books?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t like what I write. Guys don’t like to read romance.”

  “How do you know? I’ve never read a book written by someone I know. It would be cool.” He smiled at her in a way that probably got him whatever he wanted on a regular basis.

  “Oh.” Wow, she must sound brilliant, indeed. “Sure, yeah. I’ll bring you a copy…sometime.” Of course she wouldn’t. She followed him back to the living room. “Well, I better—” She was interrupted by the doorbell.

  “That’ll be the pizza. You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?” He wheeled toward the front door, not really waiting for an answer. “You want to grab a couple beers from the fridge? I hope you like Italian sausage.”

  And that’s how she ended up sharing pizza and beer with her gorgeous neighbor, whom she’d just met.

  ***

  Finn

  Finn sent the text while he wheeled, one-handed, to the front door to pay for the pizza.

  Finn: Gotta cancel. Sorry.

  Hugh: Seriously? I’m at the store buying beer.

  Finn: Go home.

  Hugh: Girl?

  Finn: Maybe.

  Hugh: You little shit! Pretty?

  Finn: Duh.

  Hugh: You owe me.

  Finn: Whatever.

  Finn grinned as he shoved his phone between his good leg and the side of the wheelchair. He wasn’t worried about Hugh. He’d be pissed for a while, but he’d get over it soon enough. Finn had been ditched for a pretty girl more than once, so he knew his brother’s anger wouldn’t last long. He’d seen Mel was preparing to bolt and he figured he’d have a hard time getting her back. And he definitely wasn’t ready to let her go yet. He’d known she was cute from spying on her with the binoculars, but he hadn’t been prepared for how pretty she was up close. Her long brown hair, looped messily on top of her head, was shiny and soft-looking, while her creamy skin was the most tempting thing he’d seen in quite a while. It didn’t appear as if she had a speck of makeup on, either. Tatiana had worn way too much and he’d always hated how he had to wipe her lipstick off his mouth when they kissed. The attraction he felt when he’d opened the door and seen his reclusive neighbor standing there was instant and undeniable. And she’d brought him home-baked banana bread. God, how sweet was that? So, although he had no intention or desire to start another relationship so soon after his last disastrous one, he’d invited her in and set about getting to know her. She wasn’t going to be easy to get to know, however. She seemed a bit on the shy side and Finn figured he’d better break out the charm he hadn’t had to use in a while. The doorbell signaling the arrival of the pizzas had been fortuitous, allowing him to wrangle her into staying for dinner. He paid the delivery guy and set the boxes on his lap to return to his guest.

  “Are you sure you want me to stay? I don’t want to intrude,” she said as she set a cold beer on the side table near his chair. “Were you expecting someone else?” She gestured to the amount of pizza, clearly too much for one person.

  “My brother had to cancel at the last minute, so it’s perfect.” He felt the tiniest bit guilty about taking liberties with the truth, but didn’t stop to closely examine his desire to keep her near. He set the pizzas on the coffee table and opened the boxes. “We’ve got pepperoni with green chile and sausage with mushrooms. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” Tatiana had been and it made eating with her no damn fun.

  She smiled and shook her head as she reached for a slice of the sausage. “Mmm. This is wonderful! Where’s it from?”

  Finn forgot to breathe, his slice frozen halfway to his mouth, as he watched her tongue slide over her lower lip to catch a stray bit of sauce.

  “Finn? What’s wrong?”

  “Huh? Sorry. Nothing’s wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a bite. She was right: it was wonderful, as always. “It’s from Mario’s. Best pizza in town, in my opinion. I’m probably biased, though, since my cousin owns the place. You ever eaten there?”

  She shook her head. “My aunt was bedridden when I moved here to take care of her, so we didn’t go out to eat. I haven’t ventured out much since her death.”

  “I’m sorry to hear she died. When?”

  “Almost two weeks ago now.”

  “I never got a chance to meet her.” They were both silent for a few moments and he took the time to study her face as she glanced away, obviously attempting to maintain her composure as she recalled the recent death. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous like most of the women he dated, but there was a wholesome beauty to her he found incredibly alluring. She was pretty, although that particular word seemed too tame for her. He sternly told himself he was only interested in casual friendship as he tried to quash the attraction building stronger with every second he spent in her company. “Where did you move from?”

  “Chicago. I moved there for college and was working in an advertising firm when Aunt Karen got sick. She didn’t have anyone else, so I moved here to help out.”

  “What about your parents? You said you didn’t have any brothers or sisters, right?” He found he was curious about every aspect of her life.

  She shook her head. “My dad died a long time ago and my mother and I don’t get along. No siblings. A couple of half-brothers, but I don’t know them well. Not like you. Tell me about your family. Explain the whole Irish/Italian thing, please.”

  He was happy to comply, hoping to reverse the suddenly shuttered expression that had fallen across her features when he asked about her family. “Well, my dad is Italian, one generation removed from Italy. His parents emigrated and somehow wound up here in Albuquerque. My grandad started a construction company and my dad took it over when he retired. My mom is from Ireland. She came over here on a study abroad program, met my dad, and never went back. Long story short, they multiplied like rabbits and that’s why I have five brothers and sisters.” He checked to see if she was glazed over or drooling with boredom, but she seemed interested, so he continued. “My parents took turns naming us; my mom picked Irish names and my da
d picked Italian names. My mom went first, so my oldest brother is Hugh. He’s thirty-four and works with my dad. Then there’s Isabella, who’s thirty-two and has a four-year old daughter, my niece, Janey. Then there’s yours truly. Next is my sister Cara, who’s twenty-seven and is a high school English teacher. Seamus is twenty-five and a firefighter. Last but not least, there’s little Tony. He’s twenty-two and supposedly graduating from college this year if he can stop partying long enough to pass his last few classes.”

  “Wow,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Your house must have been loud and crazy when you were growing up. So you’re what? Thirty?”

  “Twenty-nine. I’ll be thirty in October. What about you?” He absolutely loved the way she laughed. It was light and lilting, falling softly around them, causing him to grin, absurdly proud he was responsible for the sound.

  “I’m twenty-four. So, I’ve never had green chile before, but I think I’ll give it a try.” She reached hesitantly for a slice of the other pizza.

  “Never had green chile? What? That’s almost a crime! You’ve lived here for how long?”

  “Almost a year now. Aunt Karen couldn’t go out, so I’ve never had it.” She nibbled at the slice.

  “So? What’s the verdict? You need to like it or we can’t be friends, but no pressure.” He smiled to let her know he was kidding—mostly.

  “Hmm.” She continued to chew and then took another larger bite. She swallowed and said, “Well, I like it on pizza, at least. I’d like to go to a real New Mexican restaurant, though, and try more.”

  “The second I get out of this chair, I would love to take you out for Mexican food. How about it, Mel?” Holy crap! Had he just asked her out on a date? The words had slipped out before he even had a chance to consider them. He’d had every intention of cooling it on the whole dating scene for a while after the fiasco with Tatiana, but this little slip of a girl had waltzed into his house and next thing you knew, he was asking her out on a date.

  “Oh.” She looked surprised and a bit flushed. “I, uh, okay. Yeah. That would be great.” She was silent for a moment, staring down at the slice of pizza in her hand. “My name’s really Melanie. I just choked up when you answered the door.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

  He could tell he needed to tread lightly, but he couldn’t hold back the grin at her shy admission. “Mel suits you. Do you mind if I call you that?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head, which he found utterly charming.

  “Cool. Mel it is. You can call me Finn.”

  “Isn’t that your name?” She glanced up at him, a small frown wrinkling between her eyes.

  “Yeah.” He grinned again, enjoying teasing her.

  She smiled and rolled her eyes.

  Chapter Four

  Melanie

  Three hours had never flown by so fast. Melanie wrenched her eyes away from Finn’s handsome face long enough to take in the nearly empty pizza boxes and the array of empty beer bottles on his coffee table and realized she had certainly overstayed her welcome. She quickly gathered the trash, brushing away his protests that she didn’t have to clean up, and bid her new friend good night. They’d exchanged cell numbers before she left and she made him promise to call or text if he needed anything. She didn’t know how he was managing on his own and decided she would check in on him frequently, at least while he was still in the wheelchair. It had nothing to do with how gorgeous he was. That was simply a fortuitous benefit. She giggled a bit, and turned back to see him sitting on his porch, watching her walk home. She waved, hoping he hadn’t heard her. What was she—thirteen? Giggling over the cute boy in her class? Get it together, Melanie! This isn’t like you! She hadn’t been silly over a guy since college. The thought of her college years wiped any trace of a smile from her face. She didn’t like to think about that time in her life.

  She was nearly past grouchy old Mr. Taylor’s house, situated between hers and Finn’s, when she first felt it: the prickling on the back of her neck that made her feel like she was being watched. She whisked her head back around to Finn’s porch, but he was gone and his front door closed. She rubbed her hand up and down her arm, suddenly chilled, as she picked up the pace, glancing around when she could swear she heard a branch cracking underfoot somewhere to her right. She stopped and peered into the dark space between the two yards across the street. “Hello? Is anyone there?” No answer, of course. She shook her head at her foolishness and hurried home, grateful she’d had the foresight to leave her own front porch light on.

  CJ and Fluff were both waiting for her inside the front door. While the cat wound itself around Melanie’s ankles, doing her best to trip her, the dog pranced and yipped impatiently.

  “I know, I’m sorry! You both must be starving! Come on, I’ll get your dinner.” She rushed straight to the kitchen and fixed them each an extra-special dish of kibble, stirring in some leftover broiled chicken to help make up for her tardiness. CJ finished and stalked to the chair opposite the sofa where she licked her whiskers and stared moodily at Melanie. “I said I’m sorry.” No response from the taciturn feline. “What can I say? You have noticed how cute he is, haven’t you? I lost track of time staring into those dreamy blue eyes.” But CJ didn’t seem in the mood to forgive easily. She finished her post-dinner bath and curled up in a tight ball for her evening nap while Melanie fired up her laptop, ready for a few hours of uninterrupted writing time.

  She found her thoughts wandering, however, back to the unexpected evening spent with her neighbor. He called me Mel. No one had ever called her that. So what? It doesn’t mean anything! He’s the kind of guy who oozes charm without even trying. He’s not your type! The truth was she hadn’t had any type of guy in years. Since college. Since Evan. She grimaced as she thought about the college boyfriend who had broken her heart—and for a while, her spirit. Ugh! Stop it! Do not let that jerk have any more power over you! It was a wonderful sentiment, but a whole lot easier said than done. She shook her head and forced her attention back to her latest novel. Her agent was expecting a first draft in less than a month, so Melanie couldn’t afford to procrastinate. She managed to put all thoughts of her gorgeous neighbor aside and added nearly four thousand words to her manuscript before closing her laptop with a huge yawn.

  “That’s it for me, guys. Let’s head to bed.” CJ and Fluff both rose and stretched before following Melanie to her bedroom. She stopped to check the front and back doors, reminded of the creepy feeling she’d had walking home from Finn’s house earlier. The neighborhood was in a decent area, but you never knew in Albuquerque. Just the week before, there had been a pair of escaped convicts in the area and they’d only captured one of them. The police helicopters flying overhead had kept her awake for hours.

  CJ left, as usual, bright and early the next morning, and Melanie figured she was heading straight for Finn’s. She briefly considered following the cat, but firmly told herself ‘no’ and set to work on the logo she was designing for a startup company in California. She had several designs to present, but wanted to have a few more to offer before sending it to her boss. She was completely caught up in her work when her cell phone buzzed with a text message.

  Finn: Good morning Mel. This is CJ. Come over.

  She smiled as she texted back.

  Melanie: I’m working.

  Finn: So is the man. Bring your laptop and work here. We can all have lunch together. You’ll have to make it, but the man has groceries. Bring Fluffy.

  She smiled at his attempt at her dog’s name. She must have mentioned him last night and was touched he’d remembered.

  “Well, Fluff? What do you think? You want to go down to Finn’s?” Fluff lifted his head from the sofa at the mention of his name. “We can work there as easily as we can here. Besides, I can make lunch for him. He might not eat much if I don’t. It’s the neighborly thing to do.” She stuffed her laptop and Wacom drawing tablet in a tote bag then scooped up the small dog before she could think too deeply about her ratio
nalization.

  “So, this is Fluffy, huh?” Finn was waiting for her at the front door. He had shaved and his hair was still damp and curling around the collar of his t-shirt—AC/DC today. He was apparently a classic rock fan.

  “It’s just Fluff. His full name is Sir Fluffers McNutt. Don’t look at me like that! My aunt named him and he was the light of her life. It was basically a deathbed promise I made to take care of him.”

  “Sorry! I shouldn’t laugh, but I’ve never heard a name quite like that. He’s cute.”

  She set the elderly dog on the ground and watched, amused, as he walked straight to Finn and asked to be picked up by putting his front paws on Finn’s good leg. Finn met Melanie’s gaze, surprised, but reached to lift the small dog onto his lap.

  They spent several hours working in companionable silence. Finn had wheeled his chair to the dining room table, where he had at least a dozen manila folders spread across the rectangular oak table. She curled up on his couch to continue her design work. Her growling stomach finally caused her to close her laptop and stand, stretching to get the kinks out. She wandered over to see what had engrossed him so completely—she hadn’t heard a peep from him since he’d made sure she had everything she needed to work. She stepped behind him quietly and peered over his shoulder. He had spread the contents of one of the file folders across the table and was scratching notes on a yellow legal pad. There were various typed reports and at least a dozen gruesome photos of a nude female body that looked like it had been dumped in a ditch of some sort.

  “God, that poor girl!”

  “Oh, hey Mel.” He quickly set his notepad over the worst of the photos. “You don’t need to see this. Sorry about that. I guess I lost track of time. You must be starving.” He backed his chair away from the table and led the way to the kitchen.