Authors: Virna Depaul
Tags: #General, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance
She gasped when he hooked a finger under her chin and gently nudged until she looked at him. “I can accept that. For now. But how about dinner? Can you give me that much, at least?”
“I don’t know—” she began, but he talked over her.
“I’ve wanted to try the Mexican place nearby. You had plans with Linda, so your daughter’s with someone else, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she’s spending the night at a friend’s. But—” Biting her lip, she hesitated. She suddenly felt as if the answer to his question was going to have a huge effect on her life.
It’s just dinner,
she reasoned. She wasn’t going to date him. Or marry him. Or sleep with him.
Was she?
The heated look in his eyes indicated he knew the treacherous path her thoughts had taken. Obviously encouraged, his hand slipped under her hair to cup her neck and slowly massage the back of her scalp. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
He wanted to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes and knew her yearning was reflected in her own eyes as well. “I—I—” She stopped, not knowing what to say, just knowing it should be “no.”
“I love the wetness factor, you know.”
She swallowed hard. “Wetness?” she squeaked.
The desire in his eyes flared into something so hot, so intense, that it should have incinerated her. Instead, it made her gravitate even closer to him.
“Definitely,” he murmured, leaning down until his breath ruffled the hair next to her ear. His thumb pressed into some secret spot that only he’d ever found, and she couldn’t stop the soft, breathless moan that escaped her.
“That’s right. You know you want it, baby.”
His words jolted her. Seemed so out of character that she pulled back to see his face.
Confusion made her brows furrow.
Along with the heat was now amusement. A small smile tipped his lips.
“You do, don’t you? Mild, medium, hot. Red sauce. Green sauce. But my favorite is mole. Have you ever had mole sauce, Mattie?”
“Mole?” Eyes narrowing, she shoved him away. He laughed outright, and her annoyance was tempered by the sight of him expressing such joyful exuberance even if was at her expense.
She didn’t let him know that, though.
“Why don’t you take your mole sauce and—” she began.
“Oh, come on. You should have seen the look on your face. Besides, we both know if I told you what I really want, you’d be running for your car before the words were out of my mouth.” He sobered, his eyes dropping to sweep her body before landing unerringly on
her
mouth. Raising his hand once more, he caressed her jaw. “I don’t have to tell you what I want, Mattie. Because you know what it is. And you want the same thing.”
The throbbing heat of desire was back so fast it made her dizzy.
They’d had their chance, she reminded herself. And it had ended in disaster.
Yet, she was reluctant to let their fragile reconnection end.
What would it hurt, she thought, for them to talk? Dinner wouldn’t change things. She still had no intention of telling him about Jordan. Maybe she never would. But she could at least give him the chance to change her mind, right? So while she didn’t say yes, exactly, she said the next best thing. “I’ve never tried mole. But maybe…maybe it’s time I did.”
As Dom escorted Mattie to the little Mexican restaurant three blocks from the courthouse he wondered if he shouldn’t just make an excuse and veer her back toward her car instead. That little interchange they’d just had had almost knocked him off his feet. He’d seen the same struggle on her face that he’d been having—the temptation to take something you desperately wanted tempered by the knowledge that you couldn’t possibly have it—and he’d wanted to howl in frustration.
In ten years, things had only gotten more complicated for them. There was still his job to consider—a job far more dangerous than the average cop’s—but she also had a daughter now. And he couldn’t forget he was here under false pretenses or that she was a potential target of Guapo’s, if not more. Plus, she obviously had a personal relationship with Judge Butler, which could only make things more complicated. After all, he hadn’t forgotten Joel’s implication that Judge Butler might not be on the up and up.
None of that, however, lessened the sizzling attraction that sparked to life whenever they were together.
She still wanted him and all he could think about was her naked and under him, pulling him into the cradle she’d make of her arms and breasts and thighs. He’d enter her and pleasure them both and then he’d stay with her. He wouldn’t get up and leave minutes after the deed was done, as he normally did with women these days. He’d hold her and caress her and play with her in a way he’d never allowed himself to play with a woman since their time together in college.
The yearning to have all that struck him so completely that he immediately flinched away from it. This wasn’t about some sick need he had for respite, but about Joel. About finding his killer and insuring that Judge Butler and his staff weren’t involved or in danger themselves.
He’d tried to be funny, but her response had only confirmed what he’d already known. Playing with Mattie could get addictive.
As they sat down, he tried to steer things back on track. “Was it a special occasion yesterday?”
She raised a brow. “Excuse me?”
“The judge got you a present, right?” And one for her brother.
She bristled. “If this is about the judge and me—”
“Has that been a problem for you in the past? People thinking you and Judge Butler—”
She shook her head and stood. “I should have known your offer wasn’t about dinner or wanting to be with me. You want fodder for the rumor mill, is that it? Well, forget it. You and every other jerk out there who wants to make insinuations about Judge Butler and me can just—”
“Mattie.” He put his hand on hers, sighing when she pulled it away. “Please don’t go. Obviously I know the judge has no problem with acting certain ways off hours. I don’t believe that about you and I never said I did. I was just curious, that’s all. Trying to find out more about you. I’m sorry my attempt was so clumsy.”
She sat down. “I don’t want to talk about work. Especially Judge Butler.”
“Okay. Tell me about you. For instance, I saw you talking to that suit in court today.” The memory made renewed jealousy fill his veins. “You dating?”
Her brows lifted in surprise before she glanced away. “He’s—interested.”
“And what about you? Are you interested in him?”
Her gaze whipped back to his. “Why wouldn’t I be? He’s handsome. Sweet. I’m open to something developing.”
Ah. The relief almost made him dizzy. He hadn’t realized, however, that he’d smiled until she snapped, “What are you smiling for?”
“Sorry. It’s what you didn’t say that I’m smiling about.” He leaned forward until his nose was just inches from her. “You didn’t say you were interested, Mattie. And if you were, you’d be more than ‘open’ to something developing, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re wrong.”
No, he wasn’t, he thought, but all he said was a mild, “Okay.”
She looked suspicious for a minute, then said, “How about you? Are you seeing anyone special?”
“No.”
“Well, that was a quick answer. Quick and firm.”
He shrugged. “My career keeps me busy. Besides, after you, I guess I never found another woman who even remotely made me think of settling down.”
She took a deep breath, looking stunned by his statement. When she couldn’t seem to come up with a response, he took pity on her and changed the subject. “You wanted to be an artist when we were together, Mattie. What happened to that dream?”
She hesitated, then settled back into her seat. “I still paint. I just grew up and realized that to support myself, I needed to do something more practical.”
“I guess it would be hard to be an artist with a daughter to raise.” It was subtle, but he saw the way her eyes immediately shuttered. “What, you don’t want to talk about your daughter, either? Why?”
The angle of her chin became mutinous. “Why do you?”
“This isn’t a police station or a courtroom, Mattie. I’m not interrogating or cross-examining you. Who knows, if this evening goes well and we can put the past behind us, maybe I can even meet her sometime.”
“That’s never going to happen,” she said.
He stared at her, hurt despite himself. “Which part? Putting the past behind us or meeting your daughter?”
She said nothing for several tense moments, then forced a smile. “Look, Dominic. We had two months together ten years ago. You’re practically a stranger to me now. But despite how I’ve been acting, there’s no reason we can’t be civil to each other for the rest of the month. You’ve done your part to try to mend things between us and I can do the same.”
Reaching out, she covered his hand with hers. “Okay?”
He immediately curled his fingers around hers. The sight of their joined hands made his chest hurt. So did her comment about them being strangers. It made him want to pull her against him and remind her just how intimately acquainted they were and could be again. Instead, he squeezed her fingers once more, then let go to sit back. “You’re right, but as coworkers we shouldn’t be strangers either. So ask me something. Get to know me again.”
“Anything?” She looked dubious and he didn’t blame her in the least. “And you’ll answer? Truthfully?”
“I’ll answer unless there’s a job-related reason why I can’t. How’s that?”
“Not much of a guarantee, that’s for sure.” She seemed to ponder his words before shrugging. “What the heck. It’ll be nice to be the one asking questions for once. How long have you been rock climbing?”
Surprised at her choice of question, he said, “About eight years.” He held up a hand and grinned sheepishly. “And yes, before you ask, I deliberately followed you to the gym that day. Seeing you again blew me away and I just didn’t want to let you go yet. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
She arched her brows but let his comment pass without responding. “Do you ever climb real mountains without a safety line?”
He hesitated for a second but eventually opted for the truth. “I have a few times, but lots of people do it. It’s called bouldering, Mattie. And I’ve worked my way up to it. I wouldn’t do it if I truly thought I’d be at risk.”
“Right.” She studied him for a minute before continuing. “So what about this job? Why are you here temporarily? Why at all? Somehow, I think your talents are being wasted here.”
Relieved that they’d somehow gotten past the last disastrous minutes, he thought about her question. He hadn’t made any headway on Joel’s murder. Hadn’t found anything implicating Judge Butler, his staff, or Guapo. But he couldn’t say any of that to Mattie. Instead, he simply said, “It’s a standard rotation for all sheriff’s deputies. Like I told you before, I go where I’m needed.”
“Until something better comes along?”
He sighed even though there’d been no edge to her words, only curiosity. “Until my usefulness is tapped out,” he corrected. “Sometimes it’s not about moving on to better things, but about no longer being needed. Or about doing more harm than good if I stay.”
He hoped Mattie heard what he was really trying to say. That he’d left her to insure her own happiness as much as his. But if she understood, she didn’t say anything.
She took another sip of water. Then, with a small, teasing smile on her lips, leaned toward him. “There’s something else I’ve been dying to ask you, Dom,” she murmured.
His muscles tightened and his gaze dropped to her lips, slick and shiny with the water she’d drunk. “What’s that, Mattie-mine?”
“What the heck is mole sauce actually made with?”
Dinner passed quickly and enjoyably.
Mattie discovered mole tasted better than she would have expected based on Dominic’s description. Even more surprising, the more time they spent together, the closer she got to indeed forgiving him. And herself. They
had
been young. As he’d said, they’d both made mistakes.
He paid the bill—getting a dangerous look in his eyes when she tried to pay her share—and walked her back to the parking garage, his hand resting comfortably at the small of her back. To her dismay, she found herself walking slower to enjoy his company a while longer.
Words piled up in her throat. She wanted to tell him more about her life. To brag about Jordan. To unload her fears about her and Tony. To tell him she’d been wrong in trying to pressure him to give up his dreams.
Instead, what she said was, “My husband was a cop.”
He stopped on the sidewalk, obviously as surprised by her comment as she was.
Feeling foolish, she twisted her hands together and focused on a point just over his shoulder. “After you left, I was so angry. At you, but also myself.” She swallowed and faced him. Faced her own part in their breakup. “I drove you away with my stupid fears.”
“They weren’t stupid, Mattie—”
She shook her head. “Don’t. Please. I need to say this.”
After a second, he nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“I started hanging out at cop bars. I don’t know, I guess I thought if I met someone who was already a cop, I’d—I’d be that much closer to having a part of you, too. And then I met John and I thought, don’t mess this up again. Maybe he’s your second chance.”
The muscles in his jaw ticked before he asked, “What happened?”
She smiled sadly. “John wasn’t just a cop, he was an adrenaline junkie. He bought a motorcycle, and kept upgrading to the newest and fastest thing. Even though we couldn’t afford it. Even though I kept telling him it was too dangerous—”
“You ended up being right, didn’t you?”
“He wrapped his motorcycle around a pole a few months before our sixth anniversary. It wasn’t because of the job. He was off-duty at the time, fooling around with some friends. So I learned my lesson, Dom. It’s not a person’s job that gets in the way of our choices, it’s what a person’s willing to do and not do. I just didn’t know how to say it back then.”
Reaching out, he took both her hands in his. “I’m sorry.”
She stared at their joined hands before slipping hers away. “So am I. He was a wonderful person. But it was a long time ago. Almost another lifetime.”