New York's Finest Rebel

by Trish Wylie

  A man like him should take care of the people he loved. It wasn’t supposed to be the other way round.

  ‘We’re not talking about it,’ he said firmly. ‘I know you want me to but I can’t.’

  Her gaze lifted, her voice soft. ‘Yes, you can.’

  ‘No.’ He amended the statement, ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Not to me …’

  ‘Not to you …’ Looking into her eyes was costing him, but he forced himself to do it without wavering.

  She stiffened. ‘You were never going to talk to me about this, were you?’

  ‘No.’

  The sense of betrayal was palpable. While she’d trusted him with her body and some of her closely guarded memories, he had let go in the bedroom the way she wanted him to but never with anything else.

  When her gaze lowered again, Daniel’s roved over her hair, long lashes, lush lips and everything in between as if he felt he had to memorize her before she disappeared. She was so damn beautiful, so fragile in body but so strong in spirit. If she needed him as much as he needed her … if she loved him even half as much as he loved her, then maybe—

  She cleared her throat. ‘About Paris …’

  ‘What about it?’ he said flatly.

  ‘I didn’t plan on telling you the way I did.’

  ‘Good to know.’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s been my dream for a long time. I’ve wanted to go there since I went to work at the magazine and heard about the shortlist they have for the position.’ She swiped a strand of tangled hair behind her ear. ‘Career-wise it’s a golden opportunity.’

  Daniel quietly exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Her dream and he would let her give it up for a maybe? He was a selfish son of a—

  ‘I wasn’t supposed to go this year,’ she continued. ‘The girl who was broke her leg and if I’d known—’

  ‘When did you know?’ he heard his voice ask.

  ‘Since the day you started texting me.’

  ‘The night you had sex with me for the first time …’

  ‘The night we made love for the first time …’ Jo corrected. ‘And I swear if you try to make me regret a single—’

  ‘That’s what was bothering you.’ It made sense to him now. By ambushing him and pushing him on things he didn’t want to talk about, she found a way to avoid telling him. Did she know then how much he needed her? How desperate he was to have her?

  ‘Among other things.’ She nodded as if confirming his thoughts. ‘I wanted to tell you … tried … I just couldn’t …’

  Do that to him? In case he begged her to stay?

  ‘Before you got on a plane would have been nice,’ he said dryly before lifting the mug to his mouth. Since drinking the coffee had the same effect as swallowing acid, he set it back down. ‘What else didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ she warned as her gaze lifted. ‘I could have left you a Dear Danny letter. Instead I’m here trying to do what you won’t: talk.’

  ‘If you want to leave, leave.’

  ‘You say that like I think I need your permission.’

  A corner of his mouth tugged wryly. ‘It’s just as well you don’t. Didn’t hesitate when it came to accepting the offer, did you?’ He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. ‘I’d heard when couples get involved in more than spectacular sex they talk over a decision like that.’

  Averting her gaze, she blinked with bewilderment into the middle distance. ‘Why do I suddenly feel like this is my fault and nothing to do with you? How did that happen?’ She arched a brow at him. ‘If you’re done playing the jilted lover, maybe you should take a look at the facts and be honest with me. We both said we weren’t looking for anything serious. We agreed to see where it took us and that we wouldn’t fall in love. Did any of that change for you?’

  ‘Did it change for you?’

  ‘I asked first.’ When she realized what she’d said she rolled her eyes. A huff of laughter left her lips, but when she spoke there was a crack in her voice. ‘You think this is easy for me? You think I found what happened last night easy? I’m going to Paris. That’s not going to change. But if there’s something you want to say to me before I go—’

  Drawing on every second of training he’d ever been given, Daniel looked her straight in the eye and lied. ‘There isn’t.’

  Time stretched like taffy while she decided whether to believe him. Daniel’s protesting heart thundered in his chest while he maintained rigid control over the crippling weakness of his emotions. She’d never know how staggeringly unprepared he had been to fall in love or how far out of his weight he’d been punching when he got involved with her.

  ‘That’s that, then.’ She stared at him for another moment. For a second he thought he could see her eyes glistening but when she spoke again her voice was flat. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  He might have had the strength to leave it at that if she hadn’t glanced at him as she stood up. She did it as if she couldn’t help herself, a brief frown indicating her annoyance. But that one brief glance into her eyes revealed enough raw vulnerability to tear through Daniel like a knife. It twisted sharply in his chest as he realized what he’d done, or rather hadn’t done when he should. At the one time she’d needed him anywhere close to as much as he needed her, he’d let her down. With a blinding flash of clarity he realized what she’d wanted from him outside the convenience store. The one simple act it would have taken to avoid what she referred to as a meltdown.

  The knowledge broke him so hard and so comprehensively the walls of his resistance collapsed into dust. While he couldn’t get down on his knees and beg her to stay or ask her to give up her dream for a maybe, there was one thing he could do.

  Across the room in a heartbeat, he flattened his palm on the wood, his voice gravelly. ‘I can’t leave you like this.’

  ‘You’re not the one doing the leaving, remember?’

  She yanked on the door handle. ‘Let me go, Danny.’

  ‘Not till you let it out.’ He reached out to draw her to him. ‘Come here.’ ‘No.’

  When she took a step back, he took a step forward. She slapped his arms with the backs of her hands, tried to twist free and then pushed him hard in the chest with her palms.

  ‘That’s it,’ Daniel encouraged. ‘Go ahead and hit me if that’s what you need to do. I can take it.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she choked as she shoved his chest again. ‘Why can’t you just leave me alone? I hate you.’

  ‘I know.’

  Her small hands curled into fists against his shoulders. Leaning on them, she lowered her head and pushed her full body weight against him. ‘And I never cry!’

  ‘Delayed shock,’ he reasoned as he circled her body with his arms.

  ‘Let me go,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I can’t, babe. Not till you let it out.’

  Somewhere in the middle of mumbled protests and calling him names, her fists gripped handfuls of his T-shirt. Then she wasn’t pushing him away any more. She was holding on tight and leaning on him. It was so close to what he wanted her to do for the rest of their lives Daniel came dangerously close to confessing how he felt, the words forming in his chest instead of his mind.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ he said gruffly.

  The first racking sob ripped his heart out. He tightened his arms in response, holding her close as pain reverberated through his body. All she needed was a moment to get it out and then she would be fine. She would rediscover the joy she found in life, light up from inside the way he loved best and at least while she was in France, living her dream, Daniel would know she was happy.

  So he held her while an eight-year-old mourned her mother and a fourteen-year-old showed how scared she had been every time a difficult bar owner got in her face. He smoothed silky hair while the eighteen-year-old faced her first night without a roof over her head and watched a boy she knew bleed to death in the arms of a female cop who would become her best fr
iend.

  He remained silent and solid; standing guard over her so the world would never know she had a moment of weakness after a lifetime of being strong. It was their secret. One he would keep for her until the day he died.

  ‘Tell me to stay,’ she whispered in a voice so low and muffled he had to strain to hear it.

  ‘I can’t do that,’ he whispered back.

  If she wanted to stay he wouldn’t have to tell her. Part of the reason he loved her so much was because she was a born fighter. She might not believe it in her weakened state but his Jo was fearless in the face of adversity. She reached out and grabbed what she wanted with both hands. It was the final confirmation Daniel needed that he wasn’t it. Not for her.

  Gradually she regained control. ‘I’m okay now,’ she said against his chest. Leaning back, she swiped her cheeks. ‘Might need a tissue, but apart from that …’

  ‘You can use my T-shirt,’ Daniel volunteered roughly.

  She smiled tremulously. ‘Shut up.’

  When she looked up at him, as hard as it was to take, he knew she was going to be fine without him. A long enough break from him to catch up on her sleep, the first glimpse she got of her dream and she would bounce right back—probably a lot faster than he would. Unable to resist, he lowered his head for a soft, slow kiss; one intended to show her how he felt when he still couldn’t say the words.

  He loved her—he always would—and if she ever needed a chest to cry on all she had to do was come find him and he’d be there.

  As their lips parted her fingertips whispered over his jaw, head leaning into the palm that framed her face.

  He looked into her eyes. ‘Go grab your dream, babe.’

  ‘You try and get rid of a few,’ she replied with a small, wavering smile as she lowered her hand to his chest.

  ‘I will,’ he promised.

  When she dropped her arm and stepped around him, Daniel stayed where he was, unable to watch her leave.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘The mark of a best friend is someone who will tell you yes, your ass does look big in those jeans. It may be tough to admit but sometimes we all need an intervention.’

  ATTENDING Sunday lunch with the Brannigans might not have been the best idea she ever had. Not when pretending she was fine and looking forward to Paris was wearing her mask thin.

  Surrounded by people who looked like Danny in a house filled with pictures of him didn’t help any more than the work she’d used to fill the days before she left. But at least now she knew why he had been so easy to avoid. According to his siblings he had an EMT cert due for renewal; one that required he immediately jump on an empty spot in an available course.

  Jo knew she should be grateful when there was a very good chance seeing him again would have resulted in the same plea she’d made last time. But she ached for another glimpse of him in the same way her chest ached if she held her breath for too long. She missed him so much the pain was debilitating.

  She missed the little leap of anticipation her pulse made when her phone said she had a text or there was a knock on her door. She missed the kiss that suggested the time he’d spent away from her was filled with thoughts of getting her naked again. She missed the calmness on his face when he slept in bed beside her; how it smoothed out the creases at the corners of his eyes. She missed his clean masculine scent, the heat of his touch, the punch of his infamous smile, the rumble of his voice and the sound of his laughter … She even missed arguing with him at the times he bugged her most. She just missed him.

  ‘Who’s for cheesecake?’ his mother asked.

  Since the traditional gathering for Sunday lunch had been turned into a ‘Bon Voyage’ party, Jo pinned yet another false smile into place. ‘Me, please.’

  Turning to hand over the pile of dessert plates to Liv in the seat beside her, she saw her friend still. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Forgive me,’ she whispered as she looked into Jo’s eyes and took the plates.

  ‘What for?’

  The sound of a door slam was followed by a familiar deep voice. ‘I know I’m late. Not my fault. Took half of Ed Marks’ shift when his wife went into labour and at the end of it some idiot flipped over a car avoiding a cat.’

  Jo’s breath caught. Oh, she was so not ready for this. She couldn’t sit there, opposite him, and pretend she was fine.

  ‘Your plate is in the oven,’ his mother called. ‘It’s hot, so use a cloth.’

  Frozen in place, gaze glued to the table in front of her, Jo wondered if she looked as shocked as she felt. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

  ‘How do you flip over a car avoiding a cat?’ Tyler asked from further down the table.

  ‘Beats me,’ Daniel’s voice said as he got closer.

  By the time Jo saw his waist appear she was pretty sure she was having a panic attack. She checked for the symptoms. Racing pulse, lack of oxygen, light head, shaking hands … She stifled a burst of semi-hysterical laughter.

  Just as well there was a fully re-certified EMT in the room, wasn’t it?

  ‘Can’t blame the driver for a series of freak events.’ He dropped the plate into his place and shook his hand.

  ‘I said the plate was hot,’ his mother said as he kissed her cheek. ‘Boy or girl?’

  ‘Don’t know yet.’ He pulled out his chair. ‘Said I’d be happy with a Danielle or a Daniel … So what’s the big family emergency I had to …?’

  As his voice trailed off if felt as if the whole room went silent. Jo continued staring at the table, her heart beating so loud she was surprised no one could hear it. This was not happening and she was not going to cry even if it felt as if she’d sprung a damn leak over the last few days.

  As he sat down opposite her she thought about looking at him and knew she couldn’t do it. It had been difficult enough leaving him last time without telling him how she felt. She didn’t think she could do it twice.

  ‘Jo?’

  Her gaze jumped sharply to the left where a cheesecake was waiting on a serving dish. She couldn’t eat that. She’d choke.

  ‘I don’t think … I’m not …’ Pressing her lips together, she sucked in a breath through her nose and swallowed hard before looking at Daniel’s mother. ‘Packing still … blog to write …’ She flashed a smile as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. ‘I should …’ She nodded. Pushing her chair back, she stood up and ducked down to kiss a cheek. ‘Thanks for lunch.’

  Practically running into the hall, she yanked her coat from the rack and left. It was official: she would have to live in France for the rest of her days.

  As she stormed down the path and argued with the latch on the gate, she started to get angry at him for the first time since he’d let her walk away. Why couldn’t he have left things the way they were when she hated him? She’d been comfortable hating him. He had no business making her fall in love with him, and what the hell was with the whole tenderness thing when her heart had been breaking? She swung open the gate. Of all the inconsiderate, unforgivable, inconceivably hurtful things he could possibly have done—

  ‘Why aren’t you in Paris?’

  She swung around when she heard the deep rumble of his voice, anger giving her the strength she needed to face him. ‘Did you know I’d be here?’

  ‘Did it look like I knew?’

  ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t look at you!’

  He frowned at her, looking every bit as angry as she felt. ‘Somewhat ironic considering I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.’

  Jo glanced at the house, realization dawning when she saw a twitching curtain at a window. ‘Were we just ambushed?’

  ‘I thought you’d met my family,’ he said dryly. ‘Didn’t I mention how much they love to stage an intervention?’

  ‘Staging an intervention suggests this is a problem which can be fixed,’ she snapped at him. ‘Since you made it obvious it can’t you can go back in there and explain why.’

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. ‘What happened
to equal terms and not being made out to be a victim of seduction?’

  ‘You want to tell them I seduced you, go right ahead, but if you think for a single second I’m going to let them look at me like some poor broken-hearted sap who was foolish enough to fall in—’ She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening with horror.

  Angling his head, Daniel looked at her from the corner of his eye and took an ominous step forward, his voice low. ‘You want to finish that sentence for me?’

  Jo dropped her arm to her side and glared at him. ‘How about you hold your breath while you wait? And don’t think I haven’t figured out another of your lies, Daniel Brannigan. I knew you had a problem with me being here on a Sunday. The second you thought I was gone you were back in that chair.’

  He stilled and rocked back on his heels. His gaze searched the air for a moment as he crossed his jaw and then he looked her straight in the eye. ‘I got to give it to my family—their timing is excellent. Having carried this around for a week I’m ready to offload and it’s not like either of us was going to make the first move this time, was it?’ He took a short breath. ‘You want to know the problem? For five and a half years you were a giant pain in my ass. There were times I used to wish you would get hit by a cab or a piano would fall on you.’

  ‘That’s so sweet.’ She smirked.

  He took a measured step forward, the predatory gleam in his eyes making her feel as if he were a hunter and she were the prey. ‘Then you start dressing like every guy’s ideal cross between a librarian and a stripper.’

  She gasped. ‘I have never dressed like a stripper!’

  ‘One word: boots. And did it sound like a complaint?’ He took another measured step forward. ‘You make me crazier than any woman I’ve ever known. You’re so confident and independent you make it virtually impossible for a guy to figure out where he’s supposed to fit into your life.’

  She popped her fists onto her hips and angled her chin. ‘He could try not letting me leave. It’s a lot easier to fit into someone’s life if they’re on the same continent.’