Catch Him

by Doyle, S

  He lifted his free hand and ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “Have you always been like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “So damn open. So much just yourself.”

  “What else would I be?”

  He sighed. “Exactly.”

  “Are you going to kiss me?” Because a princess-for-a-day date isn’t really a princess-for-a-day date without a kiss.

  “Yes. I rather believe I am.” He leaned down to her and she made an effort to push herself up toward him. But instead of blending his mouth with hers, he whispered against her lips, “Eventually.”

  She pulled back and snarled at him. “That’s just cruel.”

  “You’re not the only one who can be a challenge.”

  She laughed. “Well if you’re not going to kiss me you can take me home. My feet have had it in these shoes. Besides, if you’re taking me out tomorrow I need my beauty sleep.”

  He cupped her face in his palm. “No, my lovely. You do not.”

  This time he bent down and he did kiss her gently on the lips. When she raised an eyebrow, he smiled.

  “What can I say? I guess I’m easy after all.”

  They made their way to the parking garage where he had parked the car, and he drove home on the directions she gave him. When he stopped the car, she now understood the routine and this time she was too fast for him. She knew he would want to walk her to her apartment, and she was taking no chances of him seeing her father. She popped open her door and as fast as she could move in the killer heels, she crossed the street toward the complex.

  “Text me with times tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Are you running away from me?” he called out to her.

  She turned back to face him. “You said you wanted a challenge!” This time she was the one who waved while he leaned back on his Porsche and waved back.

  Then he called out to her. “Forget something?”

  When she looked back over her shoulder she saw him removing the box from the trunk of the car.

  Shit. Her real clothes. Her favorite sweater. Suddenly she felt like Cinderella after midnight. With no other option, she made her way back to him.

  Sinead stopped in front of him and held her hands out for the fancy box the department store had wrapped the clothes up in.

  “You ruined the best blow-off line ever,” she told him.

  He flashed her a smile. “Sorry, love. You can try again tomorrow.”

  “Night,” she said as she took the box and made her way back home.

  Once he was out of sight, she let herself do what she had wanted to do all night and sighed like an actual princess who might have met her Prince Charming. She was too practical to know it would last. He was only here for a limited amount of time. Still, she could only imagine the look on her face right now. Something she would have to be careful to hide from him tomorrow, as he’d already pointed out she was fairly obvious.

  Tomorrow. Another chance to be with him. Another chance to be wooed by him. Maybe another chance to kiss him. She wanted to dance, she wanted to sing. Wanted to raise her arms in the air and twirl.

  Her. Sinead O’Hara. A girl who had never twirled in her life.

  Most of all she wanted to feel like this again. How strange to not even realize what a funk she’d been in until she was pulled out of it by the most unusual of circumstances.

  She made her way up the stairs to the landing to her apartment door. Unlocking it, she cursed under her breath, seeing the living room light was still on as she stepped inside. Her father sat in his favorite worn recliner, reading. He never was much for television unless there was a sporting event.

  Fortunately, the piles of twenties had been cleared from the table. Sinead wondered what the odds were of being able to walk in, lock up behind her and say good night without him commenting.

  After all, he was a man. Would he even realize she’d changed her clothes?

  Sinead did exactly that. Locked the door, put the bolt in place. Murmured good night and started to walk toward her bedroom.

  “How much that all cost?” he asked just as she reached the hallway leading to her room.

  Shit. She should have known. Yes, he was a man who was mostly oblivious, but he was also a cop deep down in his soul. Cops noticed things.

  “Don’t worry about it, Dad.”

  “Ah, don’t worry about it, she says. Stands in front of me a few hours ago and calls me dirty, then turns around and lets some guy buy her a fancy dress and shoes. You know what that makes you?”

  That had her anger sparking. She dropped the box and walked back to stand in front of him.

  “What does it make me, Dad? A whore? Is that what you’re implying? Because clearly I didn’t have sex with him, unless you think I was blowing him in the car. Because that’s so like me, isn’t? To take expensive things in exchange for sex. Do you even know me? At all? Your daughter.”

  He frowned at that. “I know that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is. Watch your back.”

  The best night of her life in the longest time she could remember, and it ended with watch your back.

  Sinead nodded. There was no reason to expect his reaction would be any different. No reason to think he might want to share in her happiness. Yes, he was her father and no matter what, she couldn’t turn her back on him. They were all they had left in this world. She’d just wished one time for him to do the unexpected.

  How did your date go?

  Did you like him?

  Was he a gentleman?

  Instead she got, watch your back.

  “Good night, Dad.”

  Chapter 4

  Sinead was looking down at the baseball field, a hot dog in one hand a beer in the other. They were up high in the cheap seats of AT&T Park, and she thought this might be as cool as last night’s date.

  David was wearing a T-shirt, worn jeans with a small tear at the knee and flip flops. Even his damn feet were perfect. She’d gone with cut-off jean shorts and a light sweatshirt as the weather seemed to be holding today.

  Baseball in August. For her it didn’t get better than this. Except for one noticeable detail.

  “I have to point out these are not the best seats in the house.”

  David gave her a stunned expression. “What?”

  “No. There are the box seats of course, but I always think they’re a little stuffy. Then there’s behind home plate, so you can see the curve and drop of the pitches. Except then you’re on camera and everyone who knows you will text you that they can see you on TV. Which means you spend the whole time looking at your phone instead of the game. After that, there’s low along the first and third baselines, where you are most likely to catch a foul ball. Up here… well, these are the cheap seats. Which for the record I don’t mind, but I thought you should know in case you got ripped off or something.”

  “You left out a critical component of the quality of these seats.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Look around.”

  Sinead did. It was a Business Person’s special, which meant a one o’clock start on a Thursday. While the team was doing well, it was a normal regular season game. The park was only about half full. She and David basically had the entire section to themselves.

  “What am I looking for?”

  “These are the best seats for a little PDA, with barely anyone around to take offense,” he said smugly.

  “You’re telling me you deliberately bought these seats so you could make out with me?”

  “No, I’m telling you I bought the best seats in which to make out with you. I have no expectations. Only hope.”

  Sinead shook her head. “You’re a little crazy.”

  He glanced over at her. “I am. A little crazy. But I think that’s a good thing for you. You maybe haven’t had enough crazy in your life.”

  No, unless you counted a father who had gone dirty, then had gotten mixed up with the mob. Unless that was a little
crazy.

  “I prefer calm to crazy,” she finally said. It was true. Drama, she thought, was highly overrated. However, since she hadn’t been able to sleep last night, still so completely filled with thoughts about him, she’d had plenty of time to think.

  The absence of drama might be calm or even peace. That was not what her life was like right now. Her life was colorless. David brought lots of color. He was the full box of 64 Crayons.

  “Thank you,” she said spontaneously.

  He quirked his lips. “For what?”

  “For taking me out. Showing me a good time. Doesn’t that warrant a thank you?”

  “I find most women expect to be shown a good time on a date.”

  “Well, I’m not one of them. I recognize that when it happens, it’s special and shouldn’t be taken lightly. Beer, hot dogs, baseball… my favorite things. But I also really liked being fancy last night. The clothes, the food, the wine. That was special too.”

  He looked at her then. “Then why did you feel the need to run away from me last night? It was as if you were scared of me.”

  She winced. “What made you think that?”

  “It was the click, click of the shoes as you ran across your apartment complex that did it.”

  Sinead took a bite of her hot dog. After she swallowed, she shrugged. It was a good enough excuse. “Okay, I guess I got a little scared. You can be a little intimidating.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Nope. I don’t believe that. I’m the least intimidating person I know. Try again. Besides, you’re a cop. Scared and intimidated are not two attributes one usually assigns to the police.”

  Did she tell him? There was really no point in sharing. It wasn’t as if this was going to be a thing between them. This, what they were doing, was temporary. He was here for a limited amount of time, and the best idea was to keep things light and simple and fun.

  Except she had run away from him, and she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to run to him instead.

  Why not tell him? There was nothing to lose for the very reasons she’d just listed in her head.

  “The truth? I thought you might walk me to my door, and I didn’t want to risk you meeting my dad.”

  “Your dad who lives in San Francisco. Which you really meant lives with you in San Francisco.”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the matter? Not a fan of the Brits? Calls us all pasty pansies, does he? I assume he’s Irish, because he spelled your name correctly. Maybe he’s Fenian?”

  She chuckled. “No. Nothing like that. My dad was a cop for the SFPD. He was a good cop, well respected. Then my mom got sick and… well the money, it wasn’t enough. She was on all these experimental drugs. Anything to give her a chance. It started small. A little here or there, but he went from being a good cop to a cop on the take. My mom died. My dad lost his job. He was lucky IA didn’t go after him. They must have thought there were extenuating circumstances. Not to mention the other guys and women on the force… they were his extended family. They all came to the funeral, but that was the last he saw any of them.”

  “That’s awful.”

  It was awful. Sinead could still remember how defeated he’d looked when he’d come home without his badge. His gun. It had broken her heart all over again, even while it made her angry that he’d done it in the first place.

  There was no experimental drug on the planet that was going to save her mother. Every doctor had told him the same thing. Only he wouldn’t listen. Couldn’t accept he was going to lose her. He lost everything else instead.

  “He doesn’t tell me what he does now. I don’t ask. I think he’s collecting for the mob. Lots of cash around all the time for no good reason, and the place we live, well, let’s just say Shady Oaks is a pretty spot-on name.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

  She took another sip of beer.

  “Have you always lived with him?”

  She nodded. “We lost the house where I grew up. Rent in San Fran is ridiculous, and then Dad found this place. Actually, I think it came with his new job. Decent two bedroom, I don’t care what neighborhood it is, we’re paying way less for it than we should. Besides, I have this idea that if he has to confront me in uniform almost every day…”

  “You might shame him into giving up the life.”

  Sinead wasn’t sure how she liked that word. Did she want to shame her father? No, she didn’t think that was what she was trying to do. Maybe showing him how it could be again?

  Except it couldn’t. He’d been discharged from service. There was no going back to the SFPD. Just like there was no world in which Mom was coming back. The past was set, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his future to something more nine to five.

  “He needs me,” Sinead told him. “To watch over him, to make sure he doesn’t get in too deep. To make sure he eats at least once a day.”

  “He’s never recovered from his grief?”

  “No.”

  “You think that makes him weak.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

  He must have read the displeasure on her face, because he shrugged as if he had no intention of apologizing for what he said.

  “Little girls don’t like to imagine their daddy is weak. If you think you have to take care of him, then it changes the dynamic in your relationship. You tell yourself you’re doing what any good daughter would do, but deep down there is resentment there. Because you still want him to be the type of person who could take care of you.”

  “You a psychologist or something?”

  “Don’t be angry with me for stating the truth. No, I’m not a psychologist. I am, however, the child of an alcoholic. It’s really not all that dissimilar for a son with his mother as it for a daughter with her father.”

  Sinead considered that, then she replayed his words and it made sense. “You took care of your mother.”

  “And my sister from a very young age. In many ways it made me who I was. I had to take risks, I had to make decisions very early in life that helped me to make better decisions later in life. Of course at the time I couldn’t know all that. Instead I was angry all the time. I couldn’t stop the resentment.”

  Sinead sipped her beer and looked at the game that was happening below. There was a hit, the runner made it to first. The crowd was cheering, but she felt completely removed from it.

  “It didn’t mean I loved her any less,” David said, nudging his shoulder against hers.

  For some unfathomable reason Sinead choked on a sob. The tears spilled out of her and immediately David rushed to comfort her. He set their beers into cup holders and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her against his side.

  “Hey, hey love. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. See I forget how honest you are with your feelings. I’m a right bastard for upsetting you.”

  Sinead sniffed away the tears and used her shirt to dry her face. She had no idea where the burst of emotion had come from and was heartily embarrassed by it. No, she knew where the emotion had come from. She did love her father. She couldn’t not. Too much of her childhood was wrapped up in the man he had been to her.

  The man who implied last night she was a whore.

  When had he stopped loving her? Had it been when Mom died? Did all the love he have die with her? There were days it felt like it. Like there was nothing left over for her.

  “Holy crap, I’m sorry,” she said as she breathed her way through the last of it. “Too much sun and beer. I’m not really a crier.”

  “Mmm,” he said with his arm still around her. “Perhaps you needed someone to cry on.”

  “I’ve been out with you twice,” she scoffed. “I can’t imagine you appreciate your dates sobbing all over you.”

  “No, you’re right. That usually only happens after I deliver to them the most amazing orgasm of their lives. Then the tears… well, I practically need an umbrella.”

  Sinead chuckled, which she knew was his
intent, and it felt good after the rush of emotion. Easier to keep things light and flirty. However, she also liked that after she had shared the ugly in her life, he had shared back. It made her feel less alone.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re a good guy?”

  His expression changed then and he pulled his arm from around her shoulders and reached for his beer. “I’m not. A good guy. I’m a ruthless guy. I need you to remember that, love.”

  “Okay. You’re a ruthless guy who says nice things sometimes.”

  He smiled. “I suppose that’s fair.”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  It wasn’t like her at all. She’d never in her life been the one to make the first move. Never taken the initiative to ask someone out on a date. But she desperately wanted to kiss him and she didn’t know how many of these dates she was going to get.

  One more? Two more? Beyond that seemed unlikely. Beyond that it would start to matter.

  He turned to her and reached out to cup her cheek. “I would be very honored if you kissed me.”

  He said it like he knew what this meant. Her making the first move. Her declaring that she wanted to kiss him. While he had cupped her cheek, he’d made no effort to lean in to her. Which meant if she was going to do this, it had to be all her.

  She leaned into him. She cupped his pretty face in her hands. She tilted his head with just a touch of pressure and she leaned in to place her mouth on his. First teasing his lips, then running her tongue along the seam, then waiting for him to open his mouth so she could plunder.

  It was a ridiculously powerful feeling. This sense of control over him. She was thrusting her tongue in his mouth and he was groaning like a woman who was being fucked hard.

  It lasted only seconds where he let her stay in control. Then he was surging over the small chair arm that separated them. Taking control by wrapping his fist in her hair, using that pressure to angle her head the way he wanted. Then it was his tongue that was thrusting and she was the one moaning.

  It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. An explosion of power and passion that made her almost instantly wet with desire. She was outside in a baseball stadium. As empty as it was around them there were still some people. Heck, there was a major league baseball game happening below them and none of that mattered.