RENEGADE'S REDEMPTION

by Lindsey Longford

  With a quick side step that left him laughing and her skirt sliding through his fingers, she whipped open the car door and ducked inside. Trying to avoid frying her fanny, she inched under the steering wheel, making sure her skirt and not her skin made contact with the hot vinyl. As she stuck the keys in the slot, Royal stopped her.

  “Explain, please, the ‘old money’ crack.” The smile lingered, but the lines around his eyes indicated that she’d touched a nerve.

  “It’s nothing. A joke.”

  “Tell me. I’m curious why you made that particular joke. Your brain fascinates me, Elly, if you want to know. I’m never sure what you’re going to come up with next.”

  “Sometimes, I speak before my brain is linked up with my mouth.” She closed her hand around the keys. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Royal. If I said something I shouldn’t have.” She switched the key on, and the engine vibrated the car body.

  “You didn’t. You made an observation. I’m interested in why you made that crack. That’s all. No big deal.”

  “All right, I’ll tell you. People who’ve grown up with money, who’ve never had to scrabble from one paycheck to the next, they have a certain confidence in their stride, a kind of arrogance, I think. Not everyone. I know I’m generalizing. But I notice things like that. And—” she sent him a quick grin “—you have a way of walking that’s hard to ignore.”

  “Ah.” He snapped his seat belt into place. “You’re flirting with me.”

  “A little.” She did a bootlegger’s turn and headed back toward the main road. “Seemed like the thing to do. Payback time. I didn’t think you’d object.”

  “Not in the least.” He angled in the passenger seat and faced her. “Flirt away. I was curious, that’s all.”

  “I know. You’re insatiably curious.” She checked both ways before pulling onto the road. Curiosity of her own prompted her question. “Your folks had money, didn’t they, Royal?”

  “Yes.” He leaned back in his seat, shutting off further questions.

  Apparently, she had touched a nerve. “Do you know,” she began, “that for all your teasing and approachability, you keep people at a distance?”

  “Do I? Fascinating,” he said with a drawl, and didn’t speak again until she pulled into the parking lot of the country fairgrounds.

  The parade route ended at the fairgrounds, and it looked as if people had been lining up with folding chairs and stools since early morning.

  Music blared from the midway carny rides, raucous and shrill. Blending into a pulse-pounding, foot-stomping wall of sound, country music, rock and roll and reggae music thumped and reverberated from the various music tents spread around the grounds. Stepping out of her car, Elly felt the ground vibrate with noise and rhythm. Pounding through her sneakers to her stomach, the insistent, unrelenting beat and noise almost made her ill.

  Too much noise. Too much color and confusion. Too much—everything. She wanted Tommy to enjoy himself, but she saw only a thousand and one ways for him to get lost, a hundred chances for him to slip free of her hand.

  “This isn’t—”

  Forestalling her, Royal swooped up Tommy in one hand and settled him on his shoulders. “The view’s better up here, squirt. Hang on. Come on, Elly. Into the fray. Your son’s safe with me.”

  “What about your ribs?” Elly raised her arms to let Tommy return to her. “You can’t cart him around all day.”

  “I’m a fast healer.” Grinning impudently, Royal backed away, holding Tommy in place around his crossed ankles.

  “That’s the biggest fairy wheel I ever saw.” Tommy pointed toward the midway. “I like riding on Royal’s shoulders.” Inside out, Tommy’s shirt rode above his belly button. Smiling blissfully at her, he hugged Royal around the neck.

  “Fine. Stay. You’re a grown man, Royal. If you’re letting yourself be a martyr, it’s your own fault. I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

  “Good, I like lugging the little squirt around, Elly, and he doesn’t hurt my ribs. And he’s safe in sight. And hand.”

  He’d known what she was going to say and solved the problem before she spoke.

  He’d reacted similarly before, as though he understood how anxious she was in crowds and unfamiliar places with Tommy, as if he were inside her head listening to her terrors.

  Either he was psychic or she’d given herself away somehow.

  She didn’t believe he was psychic.

  The more time she spent with him, the more she was convinced that he knew more about her than he should.

  She might have to make a decision sooner than she’d planned.

  “Watch it, fella,” Royal said evenly to a teenage boy with red-and-blue-dyed hair who lurched into their path, his drink cup swinging perilously close to Elly’s dress.

  “What you say, man.” Snapping his fingers, the boy ambled off.

  “Stay close, sugar. It’s a jungle out here.”

  Tommy tipped forward, his shoulders blocking Elly’s view of Royal’s reaction. “It’s a rodeo, not a jungle. You’re being silly, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” Royal patted Tommy’s knee.

  Royal’s hip bumped Elly companionably as he threw his arm around her and led the way through the crowd. In all the red, white and blue, his green shirt was easy to spot, its silky cotton lustrous. His bright hair gleamed in the sunshine like liquid honey as he scanned the crowd.

  “Expecting someone?”

  “Checking, that’s all.”

  “For…?”

  “Anybody who looks familiar. Or angry.” He grinned down at her. “In case we have to make use of those karate lessons.”

  Reaching up, she pinched his hand where it dangled far too close to her breast. “Don’t make fun. You never know when a good karate kick or two could come in handy.”

  “I don’t want to insult you, Elly, but how many lessons have you had? Just out of curiosity, you understand?”

  Dipping forward, Tommy stuck his head between theirs. “Me and Mommy had three lessons. And I can jump better. But Mommy kicks higher.”

  “There’s a scary thought,” Royal muttered, carefully moving his hand to a discreet position on her shoulder.

  “See how well it works?” She smirked at him. “And I didn’t even have to do anything.” Patting his hand, she commiserated, “Poor baby.”

  “Poor baby? Is that how you see me, Elly?” The impudent grin he gave her was all grown-up male, testosterone charged and cocky.

  “Maybe not,” she said hastily, speeding up her steps. Sufficiently provoked, Royal was apt to pull any stunt. “Definitely not,” she added as he let his arm drop casually to the flare of her hip and his smoky green gaze fastened on the unbuttoned neckline of her dress.

  *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Royal thought the designer of those buttons on Elly’s dress should be shot. Hanged. Tortured. Because that’s what damned dinky things were doing to him. Torturing him. Slowly and exquisitely. And the more Elly flirted with him, the stronger his temptation grew to nudge aside one or two more of those tantalizing buttons and work his way right down to the last.

  For a whole bunch of reasons, he was grateful they were out in public and that Tommy Lee was perched on his shoulders like some pint-size Jimmy Cricket.

  Off to the side, scarcely visible, a stillness caught his attention. Engrossed in the way Elly’s button moved with each breath she took, he would have missed that telltale sign if the attack on him the previous night hadn’t made him wary, alert in a way he hadn’t been since he’d taken a metaphorical hike into the sunset from police work. He let his gaze widen to include that figure that just missed blending into the hurrying crowd.

  Five kids burst from behind a tent a hundred yards away, and a firecracker exploded. Royal felt Elly’s flinch, admired the control that kept her from screaming. She’d been jittery since they’d gotten out of the car, and she was working hard to conceal he
r fears from Tommy. But Royal noted each one. Even as he focused on that figure across the way from them, he touched her elbow and said softly, “Easy, Elly. Only another firecracker.”

  Howling with laughter, the kids fled.

  Elly laid her arm on his, and he could feel the tension whipping through her. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying. Don’t patronize me by keeping the truth from me. I don’t like it. I can handle whatever’s happening.”

  A nervous edge crept into her voice, but he didn’t make the mistake of underestimating his tough cookie. No. Not his. Just … Elly. Elly, who thought she could handle anything the wicked world threw her way. And damned near did.

  “Tell me what you see.”

  “You got it.” He angled his body close to hers, and her scent rose to him, subtle, heated by her fear. He could get drunk on the sweetness. “Over by the beer booth.” He didn’t have to warn her not to turn around. Elly wouldn’t make that kind of error.

  “Right.” Slipping her arm through his and drawing it close, she stood on tiptoe, laughing, and kissed him lightly on the mouth, her lips meeting his, her head turning naturally in the direction of the booth.

  “Very good,” he murmured into the corner of her ear. His breath puffed the fine strands of her hair.

  “I’d make a good detective, huh?” Her lips vibrated against his with her words, sending tingles down to his toes.

  “I meant the kiss.” He tipped his head so that he could see the man more clearly.

  “Of course you did,” she said sweetly, and nipped sharply at his bottom lip.

  “Witch.” Royal looked down into her laughing eyes, back at the man who’d alerted his antennae.

  “You deserved it.” The vibrations deepened as she snickered, and he decided that talking to Elly and kissing her at the same time was one hell of a foreplay technique.

  “Of course I did. I’m a beast. And you have my complete understanding and permission to keep punishing me.” Two could play this kind of game, he decided, letting his s-words linger against her pink mouth.

  “Brute, fiend.”

  He figured it was inexperience that made her miss the vocabulary possibilities. “Yes. A sneaking, slinking skunk.” He let his hand rest in the curve of her waist. “All those. Keep going, sugar.”

  “Uncle,” she whispered, letting her heels sink to the ground. Her mouth slid to the corner of his, lingered. Almost shyly, the tip of her tongue touched his bottom lip, making him catch his breath.

  The woman caught on quick.

  “Uncle here, too,” he agreed. “Do you recognize that man, Elly?”

  “No. Should I?” She spoke into the bend of his neck.

  “He’s been near us ever since we arrived in the parking lot. I wouldn’t have paid any attention to him except that since we’ve been standing here, he hasn’t moved. I’m—”

  “Curious.” Her lips moved against his skin in a smile. “I know. Me, too. So, buster, satisfy my curiosity, will you?”

  “That’s difficult. I can think of lots of other ways I’d like to satisfy you, satisfy myself.” He dropped his hand a half inch lower, flattening his palm against the swell of her rear.

  “You don’t miss a beat, do you?”

  “Can’t afford to,” he said ruefully. “Lots of competition.”

  “Somehow, I suspect you don’t have much trouble.” Her chuckle lifted the side of her breast against his arm, warm and yielding. Unlike the woman herself, who promptly stuck her tongue out at him and leaned away as he let his arm rest against that slight curve.

  The teasing was becoming serious. His aching body was finding new ways to ache and hurt. If he didn’t watch out, the laugh would be on him.

  Surrounded by dust and noise and the distant whine of music and machinery, breathing in the smells of cotton candy and straw and horses, Royal felt more alone than ever. Holding Elly Malloy, he had a glimpse of the emptiness that had always filled him, the brutal emptiness that had driven him to be a cop until he’d let it become his obsession, his whole identity.

  Such an obsession that, short of that identity, he couldn’t get a handle on who he really was.

  Not cop, he was nobody. Nothing.

  Until recently, he hadn’t cared.

  Elly was making him care.

  And briefly, he wondered if that would be the killing blow. Because she would leave. One way or another, Elly Malloy was going to walk out of his life.

  But in the meantime, while she was there, filling his senses, making him smile, warming the cold edges of that emptiness, he couldn’t seem to defend himself against her. He no longer wanted to. He’d thought he had some sense of self-preservation left, but he was wrong. Where Elly was concerned, he had no armor.

  Except the tinfoil shield of his wisecracks.

  Elly stirred against him. “Our friend hasn’t moved.”

  “Neither have we. Let’s try an experiment, sugar. Okay?”

  “Maybe. Depends on what you have in mind.” She clasped his hand safely in hers, swinging them well clear of interesting territory.

  “Let Tommy and me disappear for a few minutes—”

  “No.” There was no equivocation in her guarded stance or her voice, and he understood the roots of her fear.

  “I want to see if Tall, Dark and Ugly follows me or stays with you. I won’t go far, and I’ll be within calling distance.”

  “Where Tommy goes, I go. Period.”

  “You leave him with Leesha at the center.”

  “That’s different. You’re not Alicia.”

  Her quick comment stung. He understood, but the tiny, unexpected pain that followed her words surprised him.

  Seeing his reaction, she paused, and concern, or something he wanted to believe resembled concern, flickered through her whiskey brown eyes. “And the center isn’t in the middle of a crowded fairgrounds.” She reached up for her son. “Tommy, you need to hold my hand now. Royal’s going for a walk.”

  Tommy clasped Royal tightly around the neck, choking him. “Want to stay with Royal. Me and Royal growed on each other. We got to stick together, see, Mommy,” he explained reasonably.

  The chubby hands grabbing him so tightly moved Royal. He’d been an outcast for so long. The feel of Tommy’s small, sweaty hands choking him with affection comforted him. Where Elly guarded her trust, her son gave it away freely. Royal swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “Your mom’s right, Tommy Lee. I’m going to be busy. I can’t take you with me.” Lifting Tommy Lee clear of his shoulders, Royal swung the boy to the ground and added, knowing it would erase the hero worship in the boy’s eyes, “You’d be in the way.”

  “Oh.” A world of hurt shimmered in Tommy’s face, in his unaccustomed silence and acceptance. “But I wouldn’t get in your way, Royal. I wouldn’t. I promise.”

  “Yeah, you would, kid. Sorry. But that’s the way it has to be. I don’t have time right now to fool around with you.”

  “‘Kay.” His bottom lip was clamped between his teeth, but Royal saw the tremble of the childish mouth. “No problem.”

  Royal wished he could snatch the spoken words out of the clammy air, wished he could turn the world back on its axis long enough to change the moment.

  He couldn’t. He’d done the right thing. He knew he had. For Tommy. The boy would be better off not trusting him, not building up impossible hopes and affection.

  Elly hoisted her son onto her hip, and Royal almost grabbed Tommy right out of her arms, almost told the truth and said he hadn’t meant a word of what he’d said, he was only being silly, didn’t Tommy know that?

  Royal didn’t. What would be the point? What he’d done was the right thing, the fairest thing, in the long run. He was stunned to find out how much the short run could still hurt.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at Elly, stretching his lips in what he hoped would pass for a smile. “I’ll be in shouting distance. Go d
own to the pavilion and wait.”

  “Right— But, Royal, Tommy didn’t—” Compassion softened her face, deepened the brown of her eyes.

  With the press of his finger against her lips, Royal stopped her. “It’s all right, Elly. I understand.” He did. He knew Elly understood. But Tommy didn’t. He was a kid caught in the middle of a very grown-up mess.

  Spinning on his heel, Royal lengthened his strides easily, showing no hurry, acting like a man with nothing on his mind except finding the closest bathroom. Then, with a quick movement, he melted into a group of eight teenagers, bending his knees so that his head didn’t stand above theirs. Bumping and shoving at each other like a litter of puppies scrambling and climbing over each other, they moved away from Elly, their chaos and color safely concealing him.

  Staying with them until they passed a corn dog booth smelling richly of grease and cornmeal, Royal ducked behind its walls and circled back, trotting down the crowded pathway on the other side until he approached from the rear and now followed Elly, Tommy Lee and the man casually stalking them.

  He was right.

  The attack last night had been aimed at Elly, not him. That meant her ex-husband was connected with it. Scanlon was covering all the bases. Apparently deciding it wasn’t enough that he’d set Royal in motion, Scanlon had sent in at least two reinforcements.

  Clamping down on his urge to collar the man and demand answers, Royal sorted out his impressions. Since he wasn’t the target, Scanlon’s thugs should have ignored him until he left Elly’s house. But they hadn’t. And, even after beating him up, they could have gone after Elly if they’d wanted. They hadn’t done that, either.

  Royal dodged a tall, bushy-bearded man pushing a baby stroller one-handed through the throngs. Why had the reinforcements abandoned the job halfway through? Peculiar behavior on their part, no matter how he rationalized it.

  And why had they run away when they could have finished him off? No one had come up. Nothing had distracted them. They’d beaten the billy blue blazes out of him, and then abandoned the obvious target of their evening.