Shielding You (Baytown Boys Book 13)

by Maryann Jordan

  A light blush tinged her cheeks. His fingers tightened on hers and—

  “Hey, Dylan.”

  The female voice coming from the side caused him to startle as both he and Hannah jumped slightly, their heads swinging toward the speaker. One of the young women who’d been serving champagne was smiling up at him, her eyes bright. Her gaze was pinned entirely on him, completely ignoring the fact that he had his arm around another woman.

  “I hate to interrupt, but I’m getting ready to leave. I just wanted to make sure you had this.”

  A white paper napkin was in her hand, and he reached for it automatically, wondering why she thought he needed it. Looking down at the napkin, he spied a phone number clearly written in ink with little flowers scribbled around. Remembering the conversation he’d had with her, he opened his mouth to respond, but she giggled, waved her fingers, and turned to hurry away.

  Hannah stepped back, a pained expression slashing over her face dulling the sparkle he’d seen in her eyes.

  “Shit,” he groused, reaching out toward her, desperate to explain. “This isn’t what you think—”

  “I don’t think anything, Dylan,” she said, her voice still soft. Her lips trembled but curved ever so slightly, the smile now appearing forced. “Thank you for the dance.” Taking another step back, she turned quickly and moved through the crowd, leaving him standing alone. Instead of running after her, he stood for a long moment, not believing the shit timing.

  A clap on his shoulder drew his attention away from where Hannah had disappeared, seeing Hunter and Belle Simmons standing next to him. Hunter was an imposing figure, large, tatted, with long hair. He was also a detective for North Heron and fellow Legionnaire. Belle was a local girl, a sweet, quiet beauty with long dark hair, and the perfect mate for Hunter. She was the head nurse at the local nursing home where Dylan’s grandfather had been since his stroke. His gaze dropped to her barely rounded belly, and he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I haven’t seen you since y’all announced the pregnancy. I’m happy for you, Belle.”

  Her smile widened as she leaned back against her husband. “I was happy to see you dancing with Hannah also.”

  “Yeah, well, that didn’t end so good.” Both Hunter and Belle glanced down at the number on the napkin in his hand. “One of the servers had asked me to invite her kid brother to play ball with us and gave me her family’s number so I could clear it with their parents. She was grinning and giggling, and it looked like I’d asked her out.”

  Belle’s face fell and she reached out to place her hand on his arm. “Oh, Dylan, I’m so sorry. You can explain it. I know Hannah would listen.”

  Shrugging, he said, “Yeah, well, it’s probably for the best.”

  Hunter wrapped his arm around his wife and offered a hard stare toward Dylan. “What the hell makes you say that?”

  Giving a quick shake of his head, he said, “Not everyone is destined for what you two have. Or, for that matter, what Colt and Carrie have.”

  Belle opened her mouth, but Hunter gave her a little squeeze and she glanced between the two men. Dylan was grateful, not wanting to prolong the conversation. Offering goodbyes, he decided it was time to head home. After congratulating Colt and Carrie, he walked around the house toward his truck.

  Something blue moved under a clump of trees to the side and caught his attention. He was surprised to see Hannah approaching her car, obviously leaving early as well. An inner battle ensued and the desire to hustle over to explain the server’s reason for giving him her phone number was finally defeated. He might not be the player everyone thought he was—hell, or what he encouraged everyone to think—but that didn’t mean that Hannah didn’t deserve better than him. Doesn’t matter that we’ve got the same job… I’m still just a good ol’ boy. Sighing, he forced his feet to remain in place, watching as she drove down the lane and out of sight.

  5

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  “You threw away what could have been an important career.”

  “You’re not living up to your potential.”

  Words she had heard many times before moved through her mind in cadence with her footsteps. For Hannah, the early morning run on the sandy coast was marred. The words made it difficult to focus on the soft pink of the sky as the sun began to rise, the call of the gulls and pelicans as they plunged into the water in search of a fish or oyster breakfast, a heron on stilt legs hoping for a crab, or the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the sand.

  She hated that her early morning run was plagued with unpleasant thoughts crowding out the beauty surrounding her. But her feet continued their steady pace, years of running having taught her the speed necessary for maximum benefit. As her ponytail swung back and forth in rhythm with her feet, a smile crossed her face as she remembered high school years of running cross-country, cheered on by her parents and older brother. By the time she had graduated from college, she’d run in several marathons. The added weight from packs while in the Army made the training more difficult, but she’d been in much better shape than some of her fellow squad members. Running, not only for exercise but to clear out the cobwebs from her mind, was second nature to her.

  Having reached a small group of dunes, she slowed and turned around. Now running northeast, she could see the sun peeking over the trees, casting the sky in pale blues. She could have easily continued south for a few more miles but preferred to run alone, and soon there would be others running on the beach.

  It wasn’t that Hannah minded other people, but today she preferred solitude. Snorting, she laughed aloud at the word. Solitude. That was only found at home, certainly not her job which kept her surrounded by others.

  And, coming full circle, thinking about her job brought back the words she’d tried to forget—wasting your time, throwing away a career, not living up to your potential. It was no wonder she hadn’t been back to Hope City to visit her family in a while.

  Refusing to give more headspace to those tangled thoughts, she slowed once again as she approached the end of her run. Staying on the beach for a few minutes as she completed her stretches, she allowed the breeze blowing off the Bay to whisper over her body. She stood, hands on her hips, and stared out toward the water, tempted to wade in. A glance at her watch let her know that pleasure would have to wait for another day. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll cut my run short and take a swim.

  Walking over the dune, she spied her vehicle sitting at the end of a small cul-de-sac. A two-million-dollar home was perched nearby, but she didn’t have to worry about anyone calling the police to complain about her vehicle. Nor did she have to worry about anyone breaking into it. As she walked closer, she clicked her fob to unlock the doors. The words emblazoned on the side met her gaze. Easton Police Department. The county vehicle was definitely a perk to her job.

  Climbing inside, she lowered the window instead of turning on the air conditioner. It was only a five-minute drive to her house, and like most places on the Eastern Shore, it wasn’t difficult to get from one location to another.

  She turned onto a lane that wove through farmland, coming to a small bungalow painted pale yellow with teal shutters. The Florida colors seemed incongruent with her serious personality, but as soon as the realtor showed it to her years ago, it was just what she wanted. A place to relax when she wasn’t working. A place to decorate without worrying about anyone else’s tastes. A place to call home.

  There was no garage, but she parked under a tall tree and walked to the side door leading into the kitchen. She had painted the kitchen walls a pale peach, setting off the blue-tiled backsplash that met granite countertops. The cabinets were also pale peach but so light they were almost a warm cream. Crocks and pottery in various shades of peach, blue, and yellow held cooking implements, flowers, and fruit.

  She had spent a great deal of time adding color and touches of whimsy to each room in the small house. There were only two bedrooms, one full bathroom and one half-bathroom, and the famil
y room that flowed into the eat-in kitchen. It was her refuge.

  A glimpse at the clock on the microwave gave proof that her well-ordered life was right on schedule. Enough time to shower, dress, eat breakfast, and make the ten-minute drive to work.

  “Meow.”

  The large orange cat weaved between her legs, and she bent to rub its head. “Hey, Percy.” The cat preened, lifting up on its hind legs as her hand reached its tail. She poured some food into his dish and said, “No more for you. The last time I took you to the vet, she said you were getting chubby.”

  “Meow,” came the reply.

  “Yeah, well, that’s easy for you to say.” Hannah grinned while giving one last rub and headed into her bedroom. She focused on getting ready, refusing to be late to work. She thought of her busy life filled with work and the American Legion. Her brow scrunched as she tried to think of the last time she’d had a visitor but knew it had been a while. It was so hard to find time to socialize. The image of Dylan sitting on her porch several years ago hit her. He looked so natural there. Like he belonged… Wondering why she was suddenly thinking of him, she rushed through her morning preparations.

  Less than an hour later, she drove through Easton, waving at a few early-morning residents out and about. Easton’s rich history included the town being situated near the sites of the first English settlements on the Eastern Shore of Virginia in the early 1600s and a historic green courtyard and brick courthouse buildings from the late 1700s drew visitors to the small town all year around. Still the county epicenter, a modern courthouse and large regional jail provided most of the employment in the area while farmland surrounded Easton.

  Quaint shops, restaurants, B&Bs, and a hotel that resembled an old-fashioned inn gave visitors places to spend their money and stay or have a meal. She was proud of her small, picturesque town. Proud of knowing the residents. Proud of working to keep them safe.

  Walking into the station, she greeted Pearl and started to walk toward her office.

  “LE Leaders meeting later… just before lunch.” Pearl laughed, “That was a mouthful! I know you didn’t forget, but I wanted to make sure to mention it.”

  “Thanks.” Hannah walked into her office, glancing at the simple nameplate on the door. Hannah Freeman. Easton Chief of Police. It didn’t matter that she’d had the title for four years. It always sent a zing of pride straight through her, allowing her to push away the words of doubt that she’d heard so often from her parents.

  Knowing that Pearl would make sure the conference room was ready for her early staff meeting as well as the LEL meeting, she settled into her chair behind her desk and clicked through her emails. Easton might be tiny, but because it was a town, there was a mayor and a town council. All of those positions were filled with people that had performed those duties for years. She found them easy to work with, and for the most part, they let her do her job with no interference.

  Having dealt with her emails, she left her office and walked down the hall to the conference room, which doubled as a break room for her small staff. It soon filled with her sergeant and three officers for their biweekly meeting. They poured their own coffee, greeted each other amicably, and settled quickly. She was lucky with her staff and knew it, appreciated them, and didn’t mind letting them know.

  Mason Nottingham, her sergeant, began reading the report of incidents, arrests, and complaints. All of their reporting was logged into the computer and Pearl would print out a concise list for Mason before their staff meetings.

  “In the last three days, we’ve had four speeding violations, six failure to stop violations, two drunk and disorderly with one turning into a domestic complaint that was settled.”

  Hannah lifted an eyebrow. “Stan and Lavinia, right?” Chuckles from her other officers, Robert Sidlow, William Morrison, and Bobby Rodriguez, met her ears.

  Robert, still chuckling, shook his head. He took another sip of coffee and said, “I was on duty. Stan was at The Tavern last night, drank too much, and called his wife to come to pick him up at midnight because he wasn’t sure he could walk home. Lavinia came, then the two of them got into it in the parking lot. The Tavern called me, and I got their asses settled down and made sure they got home. Same old, same old for those two. Can’t stand each other and can’t stand being away from each other. Thank God I got my wife trained early!”

  Snorting, Hannah said, “Yeah, I’ll tell Sally you said that.”

  “Don’t you dare! We’ve got an anniversary coming up, and I don’t want to be in the doghouse!”

  Laughter erupted again from the others and she turned her attention back to Mason. “Anything else?”

  “Had a break-in reported. Bobby handled that.”

  It had been a boon to her department when they were able to hire Bobby Rodriguez as an officer. Bilingual, he’d been integral in helping with the migrant farming community that lived and worked in the area. Making sure their children were in school and the adults not taken advantage of by the farmers, he was slowly earning their trust.

  “It occurred in the shacks just off of Marker Drive. While the kids were in school and the parents were in the fields, someone busted down a few of the doors. It looks more like vandalism instead of robbery. I got the Sheriff’s Department to check footprints around the door, but there were too many to distinguish.”

  Hannah nodded slowly. “Do you think it’s teens? I mean, I know kids should be in school, but the kind of teens that would break into a place might not be in school.”

  “Could be.”

  They finished the reports and she reminded her staff that she was hosting the monthly LEL meeting that morning. With their assignments and schedule posted, they all left the workroom. She headed back to her office, filing reports and making a few notations.

  Her cell phone vibrated and she glanced at the caller ID, seeing it was her mom. Her fingers drummed on her desk near the phone, indecision running through her. For many people, a call from a parent in the middle of the workday would indicate an emergency or crisis. But for Hannah, a call from her mother probably just meant she wanted to chat, never seeming to understand that it might not be convenient. The phone stopped vibrating and she sighed in relief that the decision had been taken away from her only to huff as soon as the ringing began again.

  “Mom? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, dear. I was just out shopping and saw the most lovely dress that would look gorgeous on you. I thought about buying it then wondered if you would come up this weekend and we could go shopping together.”

  Closing her eyes, Hannah dropped her chin to her chest. “Mom, my life doesn’t exactly fit with dress shopping. I have several for special occasions, but other than that I’m in uniform when at work and jeans when I’m not.” An image of dancing in her blue silk dress in Dylan’s arms flashed through her mind.

  “I know that’s what you say, but if you wore a dress occasionally you might not be single—”

  “Oh, wow, Mom, something’s just come up and I’ve gotta go. You take care and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Wait! What about this weekend?”

  “I can’t. I’ve got a… um… meeting to go to.”

  She heard her mom’s sigh, and as much as her mother irritated her, she felt bad. “We’ll talk soon, Mom. I promise to come to visit.” That seemed to placate her mother, and she disconnected. Leaning back in her chair, she rubbed her hand over her forehead. She often wondered how her parents had gotten together, being so completely different in personality, tastes, and likes.

  Her father, former military, quintessential law enforcement, career FBI, and—quite frankly—hard ass. Her mother, kind and sweet, had never held a job, considered it her calling to be a full-time wife and mother. Hannah respected that decision and sometimes wondered if her father didn’t encourage that. He wasn’t the type of man who would deny his wife the opportunity to work if she’d wanted, but it was as though he truly wanted to protect and care for her. Protect her from the
ugliness that he saw in his job every day and care for her in a way that made her happy. And neither of them seemed to understand my choices at all.

  Pearl stepped into her doorway, drawing her attention away from her thoughts of her parents and back to her job.

  “Got the workroom ready. The others will be here soon.”

  Smiling at the ever-efficient receptionist, she nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be right there.” Listening for Pearl’s footsteps to disappear down the hall, she pulled out her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. Flipping open her compact, she checked her makeup and teeth. Swiping on a tiny bit of colored lip balm, she re-evaluated her reflection. Snapping the compact closed, she shook her head in derision, frustrated that she was concerned with her appearance.

  The only person she’d met that sent a spark through her was Dylan, and she had to admit that his words, while they danced at Colt’s wedding, had stayed in her head. I’m tired of meaningless. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of wishing that you and I could become something more than what we are. I came alone because I had no one else I wanted to be with other than the person I’m dancing with right now.

  After he left her house the day he informed her of Melissa’s lies, she wondered if he would push for them to resume a deeper relationship, but when she put the brakes on them, needing to focus on her life and career, he’d never asked her out again.

  Standing, she hesitated. She hadn’t seen him since Colt’s wedding. She felt the heat of blush rise over her cheeks again at the memory of being in his arms while dancing, only to have one of his new conquests interrupt to hand him her phone number right in front of Hannah.

  Hearing a noise in the hall, she blew out her breath, plastered a smile on her face, and marched into the workroom. Just like always, professionalism slid into place, masking any other emotion.