by Karen Nappa
Paula hurried to open the door and guide the guys into the living area. James and Chris helped Jim lower himself onto the reclining section of the couch.
"Can I get you guys something to drink?" Paula asked as soon as Jim looked relaxed and comfortable. At least, as relaxed and comfortable as someone with his injuries could be.
"No, thank you, sweetheart," James answered for himself and Chris. "We have to head over to check out our construction site on 118th Street. We've left our team alone long enough."
Chris smiled his infectious smile and winked at her. "I'd love a raincheck on that drink." He walked closer to her and kissed her on the cheek.
Jim grumbled. "Watch it."
Chris shrugged like he didn't have a care in the world. "What?" He turned his innocent wide eyes to Jim. "I don't see a ring or a collar on her. Besides, we're not at the club."
James sighed. "Stop teasing the cripple, Chris. She's his sub, and you know it."
Chris grin widened. "I know, but it's so much fun to poke the bear."
Paula thought it time to intervene. "I'm sorry, Chris, but you're wrong about the collar."
Jim jerked his head her way. Paula pulled the small box she'd found on Jim's bedside table from her pocket and walked over to Jim. She'd had it on her from the moment she found the necklace but hadn't found the right time. It seemed to her now was as good as ever. She walked over to Jim and knelt on the floor beside him. She offered the box on open palms and bowed her head. "Please, Master, I—" The words she had formed in her mind wouldn't come. There were no words that could describe her feelings anyway.
"Melda." The urgency in his voice made her look up at him. "I will put on this necklace, and I promise you, I'll get you an appropriate collar as soon as I'm able."
Tears welled in her eyes. "There isn't a collar that could mean more to me than this necklace, Sir. If it's all right with you, I'd prefer to wear this, Master."
"In that case, I put it around your neck proudly, Melda. Please join me on the couch so I can close the clasp."
Paula perched on the seat beside him, mindful not to jostle his leg, and lifted her hair out of the way.
"Congratulations." James' low voice reminded her they weren't alone and she felt the heat rising in her face.
Chris piped in, "Yes, congratulations. I'd like to give you a hug to celebrate." His sentence ended on a 'hmph' as James slapped the back of his head.
"Stop acting like a brat, Chris," James scolded his friend and partner. "We'll find our way out, Paula. Don't get up." He steered Chris outside by the back of his neck, the other man laughing too hard to do anything but go with the flow.
Paula looked after them shaking her head before turning back to Jim. He had a puzzled expression on his face. "What?"
Jim shook his head. "I was wondering—" he started and stopped his sentence and shook his head again. "I don't know."
"What?" Now she was curious.
"For a guy who identifies as a Dom, Chris is acting a bit strange, don't you think?" Jim cleared his throat. "Melda, don't bite your nails."
"Sorry, Master, I wasn't thinking." She realized she was nibbling on a piece of skin beside the nail of her thumb and pulled her hand away from her mouth. "That could be an explanation for the attraction between him and Kate. He could be like Bob, couldn't he?"
"You might be right. I didn't see any tendency toward switching in him before, but it's possible."
They sat for a few moments in silence and Paula didn't know what say or do. "Are you hungry, Sir?"
His eyes lit up and his eyebrows lifted. "Are you going to cook for us?"
Paula chuckled. "We both know that's not a good idea. I'm going to heat up something," she answered and started to rise from the couch, "We have an entire kitchen filled with goodies from The Sweet and Savory Table."
She giggled as he swatted her ass, and she hurried away.
Before she reached the kitchen, the landline started to ring. She frowned at Jim. "Who would be calling that number?"
"Can you get that for me, Melda? It's probably just a telemarketer, but you never know."
She shrugged and took the cordless handset from the base. "Cagney residence."
She was met with a pause and was ready to hang up when a familiar sounding voice said, "Could I speak to Jim, please?"
"May I ask who is calling?"
"This is his brother."
Paula held her hand over the phone and said to Jim, "He says he's your brother."
Jim held out his hand. "Let me talk to him." Paula walked over to him and handed him the phone.
Jim watched Paula step away to give him privacy as he put the phone against his ear. "Hi, Harry. Long time, no hear from." Since Jim was eight years older, he and Harry had never been close, but they were the only family each other had and Jim regretted the distance between them.
"I got a message from your boss saying you'd been hurt. Sorry I didn't call sooner, but I've been out of cell range. Just back from Haiti. What happened? Are you okay?" Harry said.
"I will be, but I'm laid up at the moment. I got into an accident at work and broke my femur. I also have a slight concussion. What took you to Haiti? Another MSF mission, or have you found another way to save the world?"
"Don't change the subject, Jim. Breaking your femur is hardly a normal accident, especially not for a cop. What happened?"
"I was rescuing a kid from a meth lab. I kind of got caught in the tag end of the explosion."
"And you talk about me saving the world? Pretty soon, you'll leave the force and join me out here, or you could always be a social worker. It might be safer than what you're doing now. Please tell me you at least had body armor on?"
"Yes, Mother. I never go into a possible clusterfuck like a meth lab without at least my vest. I wasn't going to leave a little five-year-old in there. Anyway, I'll be fine. My surgeon is an old friend from college and he says I'm going to be as good as new with some PT. Now, what about you? Catch me up."
They continued talking for almost an hour. The only thing that ended the call was Jim's stomach growling loud enough that Harry heard it over the phone. "I think we should continue this conversation at a later date, big brother. Why don't you go eat? I'll be in the country for at least a month. Call anytime," Harry finished.
Jim called toward the kitchen, "Melda? Where did you vanish to? You didn't have to go, you know. I wouldn't have to explain everything if you'd stuck around."
"I'm right here, Sir. Do you want me to hang that up?" She pointed at the phone.
"No rush. As you gathered, that was my brother Harry. He's just back from Haiti, which is why he didn't call sooner. I think I've only got his cell phone listed on my emergency contact forms and he doesn't always have access to service, hence the delay in calling back. Of course, it could easily have been six months before I heard from him, too. This was only a week."
"What was he doing in Haiti?"
"Saving the world. That's his mission in life. He's a nurse practitioner and jack of all trades. He was with MSF, Doctors Without Borders, for years. Now he's involved with an organization called Partners in Health. He's been helping with health clinics and such for the last year or so. Haiti's had so many natural disasters and so much poverty that they always need help. Don't get me wrong. I admire the hell out of him, but there's always more to do, another disaster or civil war somewhere. I worry about him. It's a dangerous world."
"Says the man who almost died in an explosion right here in the good ol' US of A. Does an attraction to danger run in your family or something?"
"No, but a desire to be of service does. My father was career Army and my mother volunteered wherever he was stationed. I started off in the Army, too. Harry takes after my mother's caregiving side, but both of us believe in doing our part to help people."
Paula was silent for a moment, digesting what he had told her. Should she tell him about her family, too? Where would she start?
The microwave beeped, a welco
me distraction. She jumped up to get their meal. She would share about her family later, she decided.
"Coming," Paula yelled when the doorbell rang the next morning. If she'd remembered the schedule, the physical therapist would be coming to work on Jim's leg. She just hadn't expected her this early.
Paula swept her wet hair out of her face and rushed to the front door.
"I wasn't ex—" The sentence died on her lips when, not Sandra, but Captain Morris was standing in front of her. "Sir?"
"Good morning, Paula." He held up a folder. "You didn't sign your papers, so I thought I'd drop them off."
"Papers, sir?" She didn't understand. She stepped away from the door. "I'm sorry; I'm forgetting my manners. Please, come in, Captain." Her mind raced. Was she ready to introduce Jim to her captain? It looked like she didn't have a choice.
A warm hand rested on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I just dropped in. Is this a bad time?"
"No, no, sir. I wasn't expecting you, that's all." Paula went into the living room where Jim was ensconced on the couch.
"We have a visitor, Jim." Jim looked surprised when Captain Morris walked in behind her.
Jim started to move, and Captain Morris stepped around Paula. "Please don't get up on my account," he rumbled. "Looks like you need the rest."
There was an awkward silence as the men sized each other up.
"Jim, this is Captain Morris, my CO. Captain, this is Jim Cagney from the Drug Interdiction squad." Jim frowned her way, and she added, "And my—er—boyfriend."
Paula turned her full attention to the other man in the room. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot." She noticed Jim's mug was almost empty. "Would you like more coffee, S—er, Jim?" She felt her cheeks heat as she almost called him "Sir" and Jim's scowl was replaced by a smirk.
"No thank you… Paula." The deliberate pause before her name was a clear taunt. Paula chose to ignore it and hurried to get the coffee.
When she returned, the Captain and Jim were discussing the local meth lab problem. She placed the coffee mug in front of her CO and he focused his attention on her. "Thank you, Paula. If the taste is as good as the smell, I'm in for a treat."
Paula smiled and fidgeted with her hair, not knowing what to do with her hands. "Strong and black, if I recall correctly."
Jim patted the seat next to him and she went to sit down with him. There was again silence, and this time, the captain filled it. "So…boyfriend?"
Before Paula could answer that question, Jim squeezed her upper leg. "Fiancée, actually," he answered for her.
"That's, uh, unexpected."
"Yes, we were keeping it under wraps with all the gossip at the PD, but with the explosion, it's out in the open," Jim answered with his hand still on her leg.
Paula shifted in her chair, unable to get comfortable.
"You mentioned papers, sir?" Paula changed the subject.
"Yes, I did." Captain Morris gestured to the folder on the table. "I got your paperwork from HR and your time off is approved. You just need to sign the forms. You can't use FMLA as Det. Cagney isn't related to you. But you do have four weeks' vacation, so you can use that. If you need more time, we can work it out in a month. For instance, if you're living together full time by then, I may be able to get you the FMLA leave and you could use your sick leave to cover some of that."
Paula wanted to slap her forehead. How could she have forgotten those? "I'll get a pen and sign them right away." As she handed the papers to the captain, the doorbell rang again and Paula jumped up. "That must be the physical therapist."
Paula returned with Sandra, and Captain Morris got up. "I've taken enough of your time and I need to get to the station. It was good to meet you, Det. Cagney."
"Thank you so much for bringing the papers yourself, Captain. I could have come in to sign them."
"No trouble at all, Paula. Call me anytime."
Paula escorted him out and returned to hear Sandra saying, "I may be submissive at the club, but here, I'm the one in charge. I need you to promise you won't try to throw your Dom weight around with me."
Jim wasn't sure which surprised him more—Sandra's lecture or her assumption that he might try to 'Dom' his way out of hard therapy. He had always prided himself on being able to work hard on whatever needed doing. "Sandra, you're a professional and I would never treat you as anything less. Besides, even at the club, you're not my submissive."
"Good. That's what I needed to hear. Let's get started."
After the first hour of exercises, he was afraid she might be right. He wished he could find a way to avoid the pain if not the exercise. She had started him off with rotating his ankle and making sure he didn't lose the strength in his foot muscles, too. He was bored out of his mind until she switched gears on him. The leg lifts to work on strength of his thigh muscles were excruciating. He decided that PT actually stood for Physical Torture and Sandra was his Personal Terrorist. On the bright side, he could see the progress he was making. He realized it had been less than a week since the surgery and he had already graduated from the walker to crutches. He'd felt like such an invalid using it. Each day, his leg felt stronger and he was starting to be able to put real weight on it. He hoped he wouldn't have to have the crutches for too long. Maybe next, he could have a walking stick like Gandalf.
Chapter 17
Paula entered the room with Carl, Joel, and Will on her heels and a tight smile on her face. Had they been rude to her or was she just uncomfortable having them over?
"Jim, you have visitors," Paula said.
"And we brought gifts," Carl quipped, holding up a case of beer. "We thought we'd come over and keep you company and watch the ball game. The Royals are playing the White Sox and it should be good."
"This is a nice surprise," Jim said with a smile, only part of his attention on his teammates. Paula avoided his eyes and she stood ramrod straight with her arms crossed.
"Looks like the guys also brought pizza." Paula indicated the three square boxes Will was holding and she started to turn for the exit. "I'm going to head over to my place and get some work done there since you're in good hands here."
Jim cleared his throat, causing Paula to freeze and meet his eyes. Could she read the silent demand? Damn, he knew she was uncomfortable with PDA, but she couldn't forget about rule number two. He would spank her ass if she did, no matter his injuries.
Paula walked over and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. She backed away before he could react and started to walk toward the exit with a short, "Enjoy the game, guys," over her shoulder.
Jim realized everyone was staring at her. He couldn't blame his friends; she was a gorgeous woman, and the skinny jeans she was wearing were much more revealing than her work clothes.
Will was the first to pull himself out of his stupor. He put the boxes on the table. "So, how are you doing, Cagney?"
"As good as one can be after being caught in the blast zone, Tolbert," Jim countered.
"I don't know if anyone told you, but the houses on both sides of the lab had significant damage. The one garage is a total loss, and the other house is bad, too," Will said.
"Any other injuries?" Jim asked.
"Unfortunately, yes. There was a woman in the house who got hit in the face by flying glass. She may lose her left eye."
"Damn, I hate collateral damage. Have they found Mikey's family?"
"Yeah, his mother's a tweaker, but the grandparents seem solid, so they have him for the time being."
They all fell silent for a moment until Joel said what all three of them were thinking. "So, you and Haagen-Dazs? What's you're secret? No one else in the department had any luck getting into her pants."
Jim scowled. "I've told you what I think of that name, Joel."
"Yeah, yeah." Joel didn't sound like he cared. Damn it. Paula didn't deserve the shit the guys talked behind her back.
"Okay, so you started dating her. I can almost buy that. But engaged? You really mana
ged to keep that quiet," Carl said. "Isn't that a little quick? I didn't realize you knew her."
"I've known I wanted her since I saw her give a guest lecture at the academy. That's eight years ago. We've worked a few cases together. So, yeah, I know her. She's strong and beautiful and passionate," Jim said. She's also sweet and submissive. From the looks Joel, Carl, and Will gave each other, Jim knew he hadn't convinced them about Paula.
Will broke the tension by opening the top pizza. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving, and the game's about to start."
Paula opened the door to her house feeling like a stranger. Even though she'd been there three days ago, it was unfamiliar after spending so much time at Jim's. Was she starting to think living with him was normal? She squashed that thought down as quickly as it had appeared. She wasn't going there now. She hadn't escaped from Jim's friends with no plan. She aimed to get through more boxes today. She had finished with her own things a couple of weeks before Jim's injury, and now she was trying to deal with her grandmother's belongings. She had begun upstairs and found the first few boxes full of very old clothes. It seemed her grandmother had never thrown anything away. She wished she knew more about vintage clothing. She had a feeling some of these dresses might be worth something in a resale shop, but that would take a lot of time she didn't have to do the sorting. She did go through each dress, carefully checking pockets after a $50 bill fell out of one in the first box she'd gone through. Her next find had been $27 in an old purse. So far, she'd found $254. The time it took to look through everything instead of consigning it all to the donate pile without checking was definitely worth it.
The first box she opened was like the others on top, with several layers of clothing. Sadly, there were no pleasant surprises. Underneath those layers, she found shoes. And shoes. And more shoes. Most of them were worn and it was easy to throw them out, but there were also pairs that looked brand new. What to do? She thought quickly and added them to the donate box. She had set aside clothing to donate in a separate pile from other donations since she planned to take those to a resale shop and see if there was anything they might be interested in. Or maybe Wilma's would be interested? Wilma had created the bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses for Laura and Suzie's weddings and Paula understood she often used vintage clothing. Sometimes she kept it as it was; other times, she drastically altered it. She grabbed her phone and put in a call to Laura. "Do you know if your friend Wilma would be interested in a bunch of very old, but apparently in good condition women's clothes?" she asked with no preamble.
