by J. C. Wilder
“I said, ‘I’m tired’.” Her lashes fluttered before her eyes opened and her sleepy gaze met his.
“Yeah, well…” He pulled her close and tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. “I think we both could use a nap.”
She draped her arm across his bare torso. “Among other things.”
“What else do we need?” He kissed her on the temple, earning a sigh from her.
“Food would be good.”
“How about some conversation first?”
“We can do that, too.” She gave a wide, noisy yawn. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You.” He ran his hand along the gentle slope of her spine. “A few of the single officers and some firefighters have asked you out. Why did you turn down all those dates?”
She yawned again. “I really didn’t have time to date. Aunt Fitzy needed our help and, when Ro and I decided to take over the diner, I knew it would be all or nothing. So we decided to go for broke and threw ourselves into it.” She shrugged. “I also didn’t want to lose the friendships I’d built with some of the guys. Once you cross that line from pal to dateable woman, you can’t go back.”
“So you think they’ll treat you differently when they find out about us?”
“I do.” She snuggled closer and her grip tightened on his waist. “But I can’t make myself regret it, not right now at least.”
She ran her fingers down the center of his belly toward his groin and he caught her hand. Raising it to his lips, he kissed her knuckles.
“So you tell me, why did you date all of those women?” she asked.
“I’ve been asking myself that lately,” he admitted.
Her fingers curled around his thumb before she released him. “And what was your answer?”
He caught her chin and tilted her head back until their gazes met. He could spend a lifetime looking into her eyes. “I guess I was searching for the right one.”
For a moment, she looked both startled and frightened at the same time. He thought she’d ask if he thought she was the right one but she didn’t. Instead she smiled and shook her head.
“Uh-huh. I think women just come easy to you.”
“Ya think?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her on top of him. “Did you come easy, babe?” He swatted the ripe curve of her bottom.
She braced her elbows on the pillow beneath his head and her expression turned serious. “Only with you, Johnny.”
His heart stuttered, then he caught the implication of her words. “Never before? Not even once?”
She shook her head. “Not even once.” Her gaze roved over his face as if to commit it to memory. “I don’t want you to say anything, not yet. But I think I’m falling in love with you.”
His heart raced even as his throat closed, leaving the words he longed to say stuck on his tongue. Now, when he was finally ready to say it for the first time, a lifetime of avoiding the L-word threatened to choke him.
Unable to speak, he guided her mouth to his and kissed her, pouring everything he felt into that one touch, all the while telling himself there would be time later.
Chapter Six
“Hello?” Ro snapped her fingers in front of Randa. “Earth to big sister.”
Randa started and batted her sister’s hand away from her face. “What?”
“I just asked if you’d like to add pickled pig’s feet to the menu and you agreed.” Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” Randa grabbed the loaded bus pan and hefted it onto the ledge of the dish room where Doug, their part-time employee, was mopping the floor. His hairnet-covered head bobbed in time to a tune from his headphones being played at ear-shattering decibels. She picked up a clean dishtowel to wipe down the prep table. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re absentminded? Maybe it’s because you put the cherry pies in the freezer and the ice cream in the refrigerator? Because you tried to serve Millie Sparks tuna salad when you know she’s allergic to fish? Luckily she had her glasses on today or we’d be in a mess.”
Randa scowled and scrubbed at the table, refusing to look at her sister. “Leave me alone, Ro. I’m allowed to have an off day you know.”
Ro shrugged. “Whatever. If you don’t want to talk, just say so.”
“I think I did,” Randa muttered.
Ro turned away to attend her grill. “What I was saying earlier, when you weren’t paying attention that is, is the dinner crowd should be light tonight.”
“Why is that?” Randa rinsed her dishtowel then draped it on the sink.
“Officer Marks just received a call for a water main break at State and Main. That’ll hamper the traffic trying to get downtown.” Ro flipped a dinner plate-sized pancake on the grill.
“And it means we’ll have to break out some bottled water for drinking and the paper plates and cutlery.”
“You’ve got it.”
Randa ducked into the narrow storeroom to gather the needed supplies. The silly smile that had occupied her face most of the afternoon returned in full force. Lucky for her, she’d seized the opportunity to nap or she’d be completely dead on her feet. Johnny had done his darnedest to ensure she’d gotten very little sleep and, of course, she’d assisted in his mission.
Her cheeks warmed and she pulled the box of plastic cutlery off the shelf and placed it on the small cart near the door. Johnny Stevens. Yikes. He was a lover like she’d never imagined and her body still reverberated with the aftershocks.
She bent to pick up a sleeve of Styrofoam plates and stifled a moan as the abused muscles in her thighs protested. She straightened and tossed the plates onto the cart.
Now she needed a stack of dessert plates.
The cartons were stacked on the top shelf, which was a curse for a short person. She climbed onto the lower shelf and stretched, her fingertips brushing the bottom corner of a box. Straining, she stretched and grabbed the box and shifted it toward the edge.
“What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?” Filling the doorway, Johnny stood in his patrol uniform looking huge and mouthwateringly handsome in the tailored navy blue. His bulletproof vest added several inches to an already impressive chest.
Her grip loosened and she tumbled off the low shelf as the carton tilted.
“Whoa.” He grabbed her arm before reaching over her head to catch the box and shove it back into place.
Randa was so glad to see him, she couldn’t wipe the silly grin off her face. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” He nodded at the shelf. “Which one do you need?”
“The top one.”
He ushered her out of the way, then reached up to grab one of the large boxes. His uniform and vest hid most of his body but his butt looked fabulous in the neat pants. High and tight, he had the perfect muscular butt of a runner.
Without warning, he turned and her gaze flew to his. She caught the glint of amusement in his eyes and backed away.
“Ms. White, were you ogling my butt?” He dropped the box on the floor and advanced slowly like a cat on the prowl.
She gave a nervous giggle and shook her head. “No, I—”
“Now, Ms. White, I’m sure I caught you ogling an officer, a law enforcement professional. We put our lives on the line for the civilians of this fine city and you repay us with lustful glances?” He waggled his finger back and forth a few inches from her nose. “I’m pretty sure we have an ordinance against such lascivious behavior.”
Randa’s butt hit the wall and she could retreat no further. “Well, Officer Stevens,” her voice came out low and husky. “When you put it like that…” She tilted her head back.
“For now, until I have time to investigate your offense in depth, I’m thinking a suitable fine would be a kiss.” His big hands landed on her shoulders and his thumbs caressed her flesh through her polyester uniform.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to argue with an officer of the law,” she whispered. She braced her h
ands on his chest. The polyester of his uniform was smooth and slightly stiff. “We’re both wearing polyester,” she whispered.
“Mmm, we’d better not get too friendly or we’ll burst into flame,” he whispered.
His mouth touched hers and she melted into him. His hands slid down her back and he pulled her against him. His gun belt dug into her belly but she paid it no mind as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to his touch.
His vest was hard, unmoving against her sensitive breasts. She made a sound deep in her throat as his hand traveled to her hip then reached around to palm her butt cheek. She’d learned quickly that Johnny was a butt and leg man and, for a woman who’d always worried about the size of her backside, it had come as a shock to find a man who truly appreciated her curvaceous figure.
Her fingers sought the warm flesh at the back of his neck. He made a sound deep in his throat when her fingers dipped into his collar.
He maneuvered her until her back was pressed against a narrow worktable. He caught her around the waist and picked her up, placing her on the edge of the table. His hand was hot, insistent against her thigh and she parted for him. He pressed forward, his hips nudging her thighs as his fingers skimmed her heated flesh and she moaned.
Then a loud clatter from the kitchen destroyed the intimacy of the moment. He slowed the kiss and gave her lips a tender nibble before moving away. Johnny leaned his forehead against hers and she was pleased to note that his breathing was as rough as hers.
“You’re potent, babe,” he whispered.
Pleasure moved through her to settle somewhere in her chest. “Thanks, back at ya.”
He chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. “I need to get to work. Can I come by for lunch around seven or so?”
Randa slid off the table and leaned against it, not willing to trust her wobbly knees. “The door’s always open.”
His smile was warm enough to curl her toes and the promise in his gaze made her heart flutter wildly. He left and she laid her hand over her breast, which still tingled from his touch.
“Do I smell smoke?” Ro stood in the doorway with a suspicious expression and an oversized spatula in her hand.
“No, dear, that was fire.” Randa pushed away from the table then grabbed the cart to maneuver it around her sister. “Smoking is what your hamburgers are doing now.”
Ro gave a yelp and dove for the grill while Randa unloaded the cart. And she couldn’t stop smiling.
* * * * *
A few hours later she was filling the saltshakers when the little bell over the front door rang. The diner had been dead for the better part of two hours when Jeff “Cowboy” Divers came in dressed in his police bike uniform. His dark hair was windblown and he pulled his sunglasses off with a gloved hand.
“How’s it going out there, Cowboy?” Randa retrieved a large plastic cup and filled it with ice and tea before adding a slice of lemon, which was just the way he liked it.
“Windy. I think we have a storm blowing in.” He took a seat at the counter.
Randa set the glass of tea before him then looked out the window. Across the street, the wind was ruffling the maple leaves hard enough to expose the pale green underside. “Wow, I hadn’t even noticed.”
“It’s dead in here.” He reached for the sugar. “Is Ro’s tuna hash on the menu again?”
She grinned and shook her head. “Ro isn’t here. The water main break killed business for the day, so she took off. Between that and the road resurfacing at the other end of town, I might as well close up.”
“Wait an hour or so. Some of the guys will be in.” He stirred the sugar into his tea. “What’s on the menu?”
“Burgers, burgers and more burgers. That’s my specialty.” She screwed on the top of the shaker and added it to her completed group on the counter.
“Garbage burger it is then. Pile it on.”
Randa shook her head. “I don’t see how you guys eat like that and still stay slim.”
“Lots of sex. It’s a dieter’s best kept secret.”
She rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. After preparing and serving Cowboy his dinner, she finished shaker duty, then wiped down tables and swept the floor. No matter what she did, her mind kept straying back to Johnny. She glanced at the clock. If she closed up at nine p.m., that would give her two hours to straighten the house, take a shower—
“Can I get some more tea, Randa?”
“Sure thing.” She leaned the broom against the table and hustled to the counter to retrieve the pitcher. “Where are you scheduled tonight?”
“District one, the most boring district in town.” He sounded disgusted.
She grinned and topped off his glass. “Well, it’s tough keeping the downtown safe on a weeknight.”
“Tough job but somebody has to do it.” He stirred more sugar into his tea. “I do have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay.”
“It’s kind of personal.”
She shrugged. “Well, if it’s too personal, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Fair enough. I heard something in the locker room today and I wanted to ask you about it. Did Shel really catch you and John in the back of his truck at the point the other night?”
Randa froze and her fingers went numb. Now everyone would know.
Calm down, Miranda. You knew this was going to happen sooner or later.
“You’re right, it is personal.”
“Randa.” Cowboy grabbed her arm as she turned away, preventing her escape. “The only reason I ask is that you’re one of us, you’re family. Everyone’s talking and, if they’re wrong, I’ll set them straight.”
“You guys are worse than a bunch of old women,” she said.
“Some of them are, I’ll admit that. I’m not one for listening but I admit this concerned me.”
He released her arm and she folded them across her chest to keep from shaking.
“I’m just worried about you.” She heard the sincerity in his tone. “We all know John is a great guy and he’s like a brother to all of us. But when it comes to women, he’s a womanizer and I don’t want to see you hurt. You’re like a sister to us, not one of his women. Chicks are a dime a dozen, friends aren’t.”
Stung, Randa cleared her throat. “Cowboy, I appreciate your concern but I’m a grown-up and so is John. I’ll admit to you, and only you, that we’re in the tentative stages of a possibly serious relationship. I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from adding to the gossip and that’s all I’m going to say.”
His expression cooled as he gave her a short nod. “Whatever you say, Randa. I just hope you both know what you’re doing.”
The radio attached to his belt let out a squeal and he adjusted the volume. Through the static, she heard the dispatcher speaking.
“565, radio check.”
Randa frowned. “Isn’t that Johnny’s number?”
“Sure is.” He turned up the volume.
There was a few seconds of silence before the dispatcher spoke again. “565, radio check.”
Silence.
“553, what’s 65’s location?” another officer spoke.
“He’s at Main and Heatherdown on traffic duty. His emergency banner just went off and we can’t reach him,” the dispatcher replied.
“594, copy that. I’ll head over and see if he’s having problems with water in his radio…again.” This time Randa recognized Picasso’s voice.
Cowboy grinned and shook his head. “Johnny swears his emergency button has been possessed ever since he doused it a few days ago. I’d still love to hear the story behind that one but he’s mum on the subject.”
She frowned. “But why isn’t he answering?”
“Good question. We’ll soon find out.” He pulled out several bills, which he dropped on the counter before he keyed his shoulder mike. “588.”
“588.” The radio bleated.
“I’m code four from Fitzy’s. I’ll head up to 65�
��s location on the bike.”
“19:54.”
“You take care now,” he said to Randa.
“You too.”
Cowboy left and Randa was struck with the urge to sit down and cry. The impulse was so strong that she grabbed Cowboy’s dishes and lurched into the kitchen just in case someone came into the diner.
She dumped the throwaway dishes into the trash bin. Those darned big mouths Sheldon and Corporal Rudman! Why did they have to go and blab all over the station about that night at the point? So much for professionalism on their part. She snorted.
The last thing she wanted was the guys speculating about their relationship, not to mention the fact that she hated being labeled as another of Johnny’s women. She was a businesswoman and her standing in the community was important to her personally as well as professionally.
This was one of the main reasons she’d refused dates with any of the officers, especially Johnny with his wild reputation. If she lost any of her friends because Corporal Rude and Shel couldn’t keep their mouths shut, she’d refuse to serve them for at least the next year.
The sound of a siren brought her into the dining room. Outside, the rain was falling in earnest, leaving every surface dark and glossy. The streetlights held little sway over the darkness and she approached the wide window overlooking State Street. The traffic was light and cars were pulling toward the curb as the sirens grew louder.
Red and white light flashed against the window as an ambulance raced by at a breakneck speed. She winced. The roads would be slick and she hoped they got there in one piece.
A few seconds later, a fire engine and the battalion chief’s car raced by with their strobes flashing and sirens wailing.
She frowned and automatically reached to remove her apron. There must have been an accident up the street. It couldn’t be too far away as the water main break—
Her gut clenched and her body went cold.
Johnny was one of the officers manning that intersection.
Red and blue lights flashed into the diner as a cruiser squealed into the parking lot. It stopped by the door, nearly hitting the concrete posts that framed the doorway. The car door flew open and Picasso dashed through the rain and into the diner.
