The door opened and Denni stepped out. She gave Sean and Joe a shy smile and offered her hand.
Who was he kidding? He was in this for the long haul. As long as Denni needed him—even if she didn’t think she did—he’d be there to look out for her.
Denni took mental inventory of her looks. She was going for that understated look that says, “I have class, but I’m not a girlie-girl afraid of a little hard outdoorsy work.”
Dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans, a light-blue pullover shirt with three buttons at the collar, and a pair of running shoes, she felt as though she’d accomplished her objective. A hint of mascara, powder and just a touch of lip gloss finished the look.
Fifty-percent humidity caused her hair to spring a bit at the temples, but Denni had never hated her curly hair the way her sister Keri hated hers. It was anyone’s guess why the two of them had turned out with varying shades of red curls, while their older sister, Raven had hair as black as—well—a raven. And not even a hint of wave, let alone curls.
The sight of Reece striding up her lawn carrying a toolbox brought a smile to Denni’s lips.
“Morning.” He flashed her a smile.
She returned the infectious smile. “Thank you for coming. I hope you haven’t had breakfast. I baked cinnamon rolls for you and your—um—crew.”
His face reddened. “Three capable men are better than a dozen guys who don’t know squat about what they’re doing.”
“So where’s the other nine?” Leigh’s voice shot over Denni’s shoulder from behind. Denni moved aside and let the girl step out onto the porch. She smelled of floral soap and shampoo. Denni had never known her to shower and get downstairs so quickly after her morning run. Had she developed a sudden crush on Reece? Denni frowned.
The younger of Reece’s companions chuckled. “I think we’ve just been insulted.” He shot Leigh an appreciative glance and a smile that Denni had a feeling was more than casual. No wonder Leigh had hurried. Relief flooded her. And she fought the urge to burst out laughing at the absurdity of her momentary suspicion.
Sean gave Leigh a lazy grin. She had definitely caught his attention. “You planning to stick around and give us a hand?”
“Ha! Me? I don’t think I could bear to be in the same environment as all that blatant masculinity,” she shot back, her pierced nose high in the air.
“I dare ya.”
Denni smiled, then clenched her lips together as Leigh glared at her. Oh, this guy definitely had Leigh’s number. Denni caught Reece staring at her. His brow was furrowed in a frown that clearly told her to call Leigh off.
Whether or not Leigh caught Reece’s scowl and decided to do it just to bug him, or whether she did it because she honestly liked Sean—and who wouldn’t?—Denni wasn’t sure, but the next words from the girl were, “You’re on. But I gotta warn you. I did Habitat for Humanity three years in a row. I can hold my own with a hammer.”
She’d helped build homes for the poor? Denni had had no idea.
“Then let’s get to work,” Joe said, obviously adept at breaking tension where Reece was concerned. And Denni had a feeling that that was often.
“Hey, I thought the lady mentioned something about homemade cinnamon rolls.” Sean’s good-natured reminder spurred Denni to action.
“That’s right. Never let it be said I sent a group of workers out on empty stomachs.”
Reece grasped her elbow and pulled her back while the others made their way to the kitchen.
“Hey, that kid has the potential to be a great cop. I don’t want Leigh ruining him.”
Maternal indignation shot through Denni. “And Leigh has the potential to be a fantastic physical therapist. Maybe I don’t want her getting distracted by some over-testosteroned cop-jock. What are you going to do about that?”
His brows shot up. “Over-testosteroned?” He nodded, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “I guess I’ll have to give you that one. They can hold their own with each other.”
“Then we’re staying out of it?”
“I will, if you will.”
“Deal. Wait until you taste one of my cinnamon rolls. You won’t be thinking about anything else but how they melt in your mouth.”
“I can’t wait,” he murmured, his tone suddenly husky. Just because she’d mentioned cinnamon rolls? Maybe the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach.
“It’s the least I can do.” Denni’s voice sounded hoarse. “After all, you are getting me out of a major bind.”
“Tell me about the old woman next door.”
His capacity to shift gears so quickly left Denni a little off-guard. With a sister and a dad who were cops, she knew it was a professional tactic, but it was unsettling nonetheless. Still, after a few months of knowing Reece, she was beginning to go with the quick turns and not let the sudden changes of conversation throw her.
“Mrs. James? What about her?”
“She seems pretty determined that the girls are up to no good.”
“You’ve been talking to my neighbors about the girls?”
Anger started to build. Just when she was beginning to ease into a comfortable camaraderie with him. “Why would you do that?”
“I’m investigating a crime. I’ve questioned all of your neighbors at one time or the other.”
“I see. And as soon as you discovered Mrs. James was home you pounced on her?”
“Actually, her dog almost attacked me. But that’s beside the point. Where has she been?”
“She’s spent the last two winters in Florida with her daughter and son-in-law.”
“Is there a Mr. James?”
“No. He passed on three years ago. I think that’s the real reason Mrs. James leaves for all those months. She can’t bear the loneliness. Her only other companionship is from a fifty-year-old daughter who is mentally ill.”
“A daughter?”
Denni nodded. “Sarah. She doesn’t venture out much and when she does, she doesn’t speak. The loneliness is part of the reason Mrs. James got Buffy. That dog means everything to her.”
“You got that right. I thought the old lady was going to take a stick to me for daring to defend myself against that monster.” His chuckle brought a smile to Denni’s lips.
“She really isn’t so bad. She just can’t believe that foster girls aren’t necessarily juvenile delinquents.”
“So she told me. In no uncertain terms.”
“Well, she happens to be my next project, after I get my funding squared away.”
He peered closer. “Mrs. James is a project?”
“She’s so lonely. I know that’s why she seems so mean.”
“You think you can fix her?”
Ironic that he should use the word fix.
“People are so broken, Reece.” Her voice choked. “I wish I could fix them all. But I can’t.”
He took her hand, almost as though trying to comfort her. Did he hear how her heart cried out for the hurting people of the world? People like Mrs. James. People like her girls, who had been rejected and in some cases abused? People like him…
“Then why do you try so hard?” he asked, his eyes piercing hers, searching for truth.
She covered their joined hands with her other one. “Because I know someone who can heal anyone. No matter how broken. He was broken first, so that I could be healed and whole. And not just me, but you, too. And Mrs. James and anyone who will call on His name.”
For a second, Reece’s face softened; his eyes seemed to accept what she was saying. Then, as quickly as the acceptance appeared, rejection followed, and hard lines appeared on his face. In one motion, they released each other.
“I’m not into religion, Denni. I know better.”
“Oh, Reece. I’m not talking about religion. I’m talking about a man. Like you.”
“Baby, don’t flatter me. I’m no one’s savior.”
“I didn’t mean you were a savior. I meant that He too was rejected by those He loved. He know
s how you feel.”
Reece sucked in a sharp breath. “What are you talking about?”
Denni stepped back in alarm. “I—I…nothing. Just…in the basement that night. When I asked you about family, you said ‘which one.’ I just assumed that you had grown up in foster care. Or at the very least that you’d been passed around among members of your own family.”
“It’s that obvious?” He seemed horrified by the thought of anyone knowing.
“Only to a social worker, probably.”
“All right. So you know I don’t have family and I was raised a ward of the state. That little tidbit of information goes no farther than this room. Understood? I can’t have the girls thinking they can play on my emotional scars.”
“They wouldn’t…”
He fixed her with a hard look. “Understood?”
Hurt wound like a chain around her heart. Would he ever lower his guard? She nodded. “Understood.”
Turning her back, she walked toward the kitchen, sensing his eyes upon her. The more she got to know him, the more she realized Reece Corrigan was a complex man, very capable of breaking her fragile heart. But that knowledge didn’t stop her from offering it to him over and over on a silver platter. Would he ever see her as someone to cherish? And more importantly, would he ever give God another chance?
Chapter Seven
Reece watched, spellbound, as Denni stood before a congregation of at least five hundred people and spoke with great passion about her vision for Mahoney House.
Following a hunch, he’d attended the service in order to keep an eye on Elizabeth Wilson. As far as he was concerned, going to church went above and beyond the call of duty. He was definitely putting in for overtime on this one. But he needed to do some sniffing around without alerting Elizabeth to his instinct about her. Going to the service seemed to be the best way to get close.
After the luncheon, he’d done a little checking and found out she’d been turned down as a foster parent. That alone had raised his suspicion. In a state desperate for homes in which to place children, why would Missouri DFS turn down a woman who worked for a church? Then he’d discovered her little secret. Black-market prescription painkillers—supposedly for her cancer-riddled mother. Regardless of whether she had been telling the truth or not, she had been sentenced to rehab, probation and a mark on her permanent record.
He still didn’t know what that had to do with Denni and knew he’d be laughed out of the department if he tried to make a case out of it. But Denni’s position as a social worker, Elizabeth’s sister scheduled to cater the luncheon which then got cancelled, Elizabeth getting turned down—all those things seemed to fit together, even if not quite perfectly. There were enough questions, as far as he was concerned, for him to take a closer look at the woman.
Denni’s sweet voice lifted above his thoughts, causing him to refocus. “The state only guarantees children a home until they’re eighteen,” she said. “At that point, unless they’ve made a real familial connection with their foster family, they are on their own.”
Her voice trembled, though from nerves or emotion, Reece couldn’t be sure. Whichever the case, his heart went out to her. She was trying hard for these kids. Too hard, most likely. He glanced at the line of girls sitting shoulder to shoulder on the third pew six rows ahead of Reece. At least they listened to their benefactress with undivided attention—oops, he’d thought too soon—Leigh glanced at her watch at the same time that Fran hid a yawn behind her hand.
Irritation nagged him. He turned his attention back to Denni. She faltered a split second as their eyes locked. He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.
“I—I believe this is something God has asked me to do, and I know that He will provide all of my needs. I’ve been amazed at his provision so far.” Her lips curved into a smile and she sent Reece a pointed glance before turning back to the pastor. “Thank you for your time.”
Reece fidgeted in his seat as he watched her hand the mike back to the minister and take her place next to Leigh. That last look from her could have meant only one thing. She considered his offer to help with her home repair to be direct provision from the Almighty.
What a laugh. He was no one’s answer to prayer. If God wanted to help Denni, He’d be more likely to send her a stable contractor with a heart of gold and a soft spot for orphans and the homeless. Not a cynical career cop with his own agenda.
Okay, sure. Maybe he did want to help Denni out of a bind. As a means to an end. But if there were nothing in it for him—a chance to find out more about the girls, the neighbor and now Elizabeth Wilson, for instance—Reece highly doubted his interest in Denni would be enough to warrant all the trouble.
As if sensing his attention, she turned and captured his gaze. Her smile quickened his pulse. Or was it only a means to an end after all? There was no denying the fact that he was attracted to Denni. Too attracted, most likely. He knew enough about religious women to know that even if she had any sort of feelings for him, her feelings for God were stronger and would prevent a relationship with anyone who didn’t believe the same way.
Deep in thought, he startled to attention when the entire row stood. Dismissal music flooded the room. Denni leaned over and whispered something to Leigh. The girl scowled, her gaze darting to Reece.
Reece sent her a two-fingered salute. From the glare he received, he could only surmise that if she could’ve gotten away with it, the girl would have stuck out her tongue. He didn’t bother to bite back his grin.
He remained still as Denni approached him, a delighted smile lighting her face. “Reece, it’s wonderful to see you.”
Drawn in by her warmth, Reece accepted the hand she offered and gave it a squeeze. “You gave a pretty compelling speech.”
A blush flooded her cheeks. “Thanks. I hope it helps when the powers that be make their decision.”
A throat being cleared behind them interrupted. “Excuse me. I need a moment of your time, Denni.” Elizabeth Wilson’s high-and-mighty tone acted like a wet blanket, dousing any flame of interest between Reece and Denni. For the moment, anyway. The woman gave him a high-browed once-over. “Detective…Corey, was it?”
“Corrigan,” he replied, finding it difficult not to grit his teeth.
“Did you need something, Elizabeth?” Denni asked.
“I still haven’t received your application for the grant. We can’t really make a decision until you submit it, can we?”
“I didn’t realize I had to submit another application since I am reapplying for the same grant. But if I do, I’ll pick one up this week.”
“New policy. I sent you one two weeks ago.”
“I didn’t get it.”
“I’ll send another one tomorrow. Please try not to misplace it. We’re running out of time.”
Denni’s eyes narrowed and sparkled with anger, but to her credit, she held her tongue as the self-important woman said goodbye and walked away.
“She must have forgotten to send it,” Denni muttered.
“Either that or someone conveniently forgot to give it to you.”
“Don’t start. Detective.”
“Just doing my job.”
“This is a day of rest. So give it a rest, will you?”
Unable to resist a grin, Reece nodded. “Okay, but only if you’ll go to lunch with me.”
“Actually, I came over to see if you want to have a late lunch—or early supper, if you prefer—at the house. We’re trying out the new deck you and your crew so kindly fixed for us. The barbecue grill is all cleaned and ready for chicken, hamburgers and hot dogs. Sean already invited himself to join us, so you might as well come too.”
“Sean invited himself to dinner?”
Amusement tipped one corner of her lips. “He’s been over every day since your work day. Leigh pretends to be annoyed, but I think she’s mostly afraid to let herself hope he’s really interested.”
“He doesn’t seem the sort to play with a girl’s feelings.”<
br />
“They rarely do. But you never can tell when someone has an ulterior motive, can you?”
Unease crept through him. Was she fishing? Warning? He forced himself to keep eye contact when he really wanted to sink through the floor to hide from her knowing gaze.
“So, what time is this barbecue?”
After another second of scrutiny, she seemed to let it go. “Around three.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“You’ve done enough for us. This is our treat.”
On the verge of telling her she didn’t owe him anything and that doing things for her was his pleasure, Reece stifled a growl when Leigh’s voice shut him down.
“Coming, Denni?”
“Yeah.” She touched Reece’s arm with slender fingers. “See you later, then?”
“Yep. I’ll be there.”
Her eyes lit with pleasure as she turned to join her girls.
“He’s here.” Fran’s flat tone could mean only one person. Denni turned away from the grilling burgers. She nearly dropped her spatula at the sight of Reece, dressed in khaki shorts and a black T-shirt. Leather loafers finished off a casual, Rhett Butler sort of nonchalance that never failed to make Denni sweat. Reece was just cool. And probably way out of her league.
“I told you not to bring anything.” She nodded at the enormous watermelon cradled like a puppy in his arms.
“Sorry, it’s in my nature to bring something to a barbecue. Didn’t figure a six-pack would win me any points.”
“It would have won you points with me,” Fran quipped.
Denni scowled at him as if to say, Now see what you’ve started?
“Next time I’ll bring one, then,” Reece said, ruffling Fran’s hair. “A six-pack of soda.”
“Hey, watch the hair, Corrigan!” But her voice lifted with amusement. She aimed her sports water bottle at him and squeezed.
Reece sucked in a breath as the ice-cold water spotted the front of his shirt. “You little twerp!” He chuckled despite the confrontational words and snatched up a bottle of water from the large ice cooler next to the kitchen door.
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