Love a Little Sideways (3 page)

Cursing under his breath, Drew pulled in behind her on the shoulder and threw the SUV in Park. He got on the radio and told his dispatcher he was stepping out of his vehicle for a traffic stop, but then hesitated when she offered to run the plate. After assuring her it was a minor infraction and nobody would be getting a ticket, he got out and walked to the car.

He might want to handcuff her, pat her down and lock her in the truck with him for a while, but he wasn’t going to give her a ticket. Not only had she suffered enough vehicular trouble lately, but he didn’t want his tags on a violation tag.

Liz started to open the door, but he shoved it closed. “Stay in the vehicle. You know that.”

He bent down to look in the window and got sucker punched by her smile. It was the Kowalski get-out-of-trouble smile and God knew he’d seen Mitch and his brothers use it on women so often he usually just rolled his eyes.

But with her head tilted a little sideways and her blue eyes crinkling, Liz’s smile did something to his insides and he straightened again. Folding his arms over his chest as if they were armor, he glared down at her.

“I’m really sorry, Drew,” she said in a soft voice.

“What is it with you Kowalskis? When I’m in uniform and you’re in trouble, it’s Chief Miller.”

“Just how much trouble am I in?”

Not as much as he was, if she didn’t stop looking at him like that. “You’re speeding. In the police chief’s car.”

She held up her hand, holding her thumb and index finger a half inch apart. “Just a little.”

“Isn’t it bad enough there’s a picture on Facebook of my car in your driveway at midnight? What’s next? A picture of my car laying rubber down the main street?”

“I didn’t lay rubber down...wait. What picture on Facebook?”

“You haven’t talked to Mitch?”

That certainly wiped the charming smile off her face. “Not yet. Why is there a picture of my house on Facebook?”

“And my car. He stopped by my office this morning. Wanted to know why my car was in your driveway at midnight with no lights on in the house.”

“Oh. Well, at least there’s an easy explanation for that, and not many people know I’ve moved in there. Yet.”

He felt his jaw clench. “He says he won’t be too fazed by gossip because he knows I’d cut off my own balls before I’d put a hand on you.”

He watched her expression as the words sunk in, until she turned to stare out the windshield and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Did he say that?”

“He did.”

She took a deep breath and, since the angle he was looking down at her offered a window-framed view of her breasts, he forced himself to look at the trees over the top of the car. Having sexy thoughts about her while discussing Mitch’s reaction to the idea of them having sex didn’t sit well with him. Neither did lying to his best friend, even if only by omission, but there was no point in putting a strain on relationships for what had been nothing more than a quick rebound fling.

As happy as he was for Mitch and Paige, their wedding had been hard on him. Divorce sucked extra hard when you were celebrating a marriage, and he felt lonely and cold inside. Then he’d seen Liz and turned hot in an instant. She was so vibrant and fun, dancing and laughing with her family but, behind the smile, he could see that she was lonely, too.

They’d circled around each other during the reception. Glances. Smiles. Touches. Then they’d run into each other in the house and found themselves alone. He still wasn’t sure who moved first, but the kiss made him feel like that bird that rose out of the ashes and they went upstairs.

Liz was just as vibrant and fun in the bedroom, and Drew wouldn’t want to ever confess how many times he’d thought about that day since. But he’d barely caught his breath before Liz heard her brother Ryan yelling her name and ran off like a teen who’d spotted her parents’ headlights in a window. There had been cake cutting and more celebrating and then he’d been doing the designated-driver thing, so he hadn’t gotten to see her again before she went back to New Mexico.

Maybe if she’d stayed, it would have amounted to something and they would have told Mitch they were a couple. Instead, the best sex of his life was an awkward secret.

“It’s not a big deal,” Liz said, and he wasn’t sure if she meant the sex, the Facebook photo or Mitch’s certainty his best friend wouldn’t put the moves on his sister. “I’m not worrying about what people think. I’m starting a new life and I’m going to have fun and do what I want to do. If people want to plaster it on Facebook, more power to them.”

“Do me a favor and don’t do it at sixty miles per hour, okay?”

She smiled and looked up at him. “Does that mean you’re letting me off with a warning, Chief Miller?”

He should give her a warning, all right. A warning not to look at him like that, with her pretty eyes and the smile that looked sweet, but held a hint of naughtiness. “Just this once.”

After waiting to make sure she pulled the Mustang back onto the road and drove off at a legal speed, Drew did a U-turn and decided to head home for lunch. While most of the time being in the house alone depressed him, sometimes it was a crazy-people-free refuge and that’s what he needed right now.

He made himself a turkey sandwich on wheat in deference to his uniform’s belt, but then slathered on the mayo in deference to his mood.

Sitting on one of the two bar stools at his counter, since Mal had taken the dining room set, he ate his sandwich and tried to clear his head. He vaguely remembered, from some high school English class, a story about beautiful women who’d lure sailors in so they smashed their ships on the rocks. That’s how he felt about Liz. Not that she was trying to lure him to his death, but he didn’t seem to be able to resist thinking about her, even knowing it wouldn’t end well.

Even without Mitch as a rock to crash up against, any relationship between Drew and Liz was a disaster waiting to happen. They were both starting over, but they were going in different directions. Liz wanted to have fun and figure out her new direction in life. Drew already knew what direction he was going in. He wanted children, so he was looking for a wife who wanted the same and he was tired of waiting.

He needed to stop thinking about Liz Kowalski every time he closed his eyes and start picturing the family he wanted to have. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, he could imagine the sounds of young voices and the sight of bicycles left in the driveway. He’d wanted that for a long time, but had been married to the wrong woman. Now it was time to start making that dream come true, and being derailed by another wrong woman wasn’t getting him any closer.

No matter how good she might make him feel, he had to remember Liz wasn’t going to be the mother of his children.

Chapter Three

Liz parked in front of the Northern Star Lodge and leaned against the car to look over her childhood home. Somehow it was still the same while not being the same at all. She knew her brothers had done a lot of major remodeling before the wedding eight months ago, but she could see they’d been making constant cosmetic improvements since.

The huge house gleamed white and the dark green shutters framing the new windows were in perfect condition. Traditional white rocking chairs were placed in conversational groupings along the deep farmer’s porch, which was punctuated by hanging baskets overflowing with bright flowers. The landscaping was lush and inviting, and she could hardly believe this was the same lodge Mitch had sent her photos of back when it was in financial trouble and they’d had to make the decision to sell it or keep it. Even when she was a kid and her dad still ran the place, she didn’t think it had looked this good.

The front door opened and her brother Josh stepped out into the shade of the porch. She ran up the steps and threw herself into his waiting embrace, so glad she’d decided to move home. Phone calls just weren’t the same.

“Rosie’s been waiting for you all morning,” he told her. “And she gets up early.”

“I needed bacon.”

“Don’t we all?” He held her out at arm’s length. “You look great. A lot happier.”

“So do you.” The last time she’d seen Josh, he’d been sitting on her front step in New Mexico, sulking because he was trying to convince himself he’d done the right thing in leaving his best friend Katie behind to see the country, and failing. Luckily, he’d figured it all out and returned to the Northern Star Lodge and to Katie, who was Rose’s daughter.

“Katie’s at work,” he said, looping an arm over her shoulder as they walked toward the front porch. “She was going to close the shop, but nobody was sure quite when you’d get here.”

Katie Davis owned the only barbershop in Whitford, so it was probably a big deal when she closed it down for a day. “I understand. You two set a wedding date yet?”

“Not yet. We’re trying to let Ryan and Lauren go first, but if they don’t hurry up, we’re going to stop being nice.”

Liz laughed, then gave a squeal of delight when the screen door flew open and Rosie stepped out.

“My girl’s finally home!” Rosie threw her arms around Liz, barely giving Josh time to get out of the way, and squeezed her hard.

Rose Davis had been the housekeeper at the Northern Star all of Liz’s life and, since Sarah Kowalski died when Liz was seven, she’d been the mom of the house, too. She considered the Kowalski kids as much hers as she did her own daughter, Katie, who she’d practically raised at the lodge along with them. And while Katie had been a tomboy, running with Liz’s brothers, Liz had spent her time with Rosie, helping her clean and bake and learning to knit. Now that she was home to stay, it was safe to admit to herself that she’d missed her horribly.

“When did you get in?” Rosie asked, practically pushing her through the house to the kitchen, where most of the visiting usually took place.

“Last night. I know I should have called then, but by the time I got settled, it was late enough so I thought you might be in bed already.”

Rosie’s eyes narrowed. “You stayed at Lauren’s last night?”

Liz remembered the photo on Facebook. “Yes, but before you jump to any wrong conclusions, I had a small accident and—”

“An accident? What happened?”

“My car hydroplaned and sideswiped a tree. I’m fine.” She put her hands up and made a slow circle so Rosie could see for herself. “Drew lent me his Mustang, which is why it was parked in the driveway at midnight.”

Josh laughed, pulling a chair away from the table so he could turn it around and straddle it backward, ignoring Rosie’s frown. “When people find out you were in the house when the picture was taken, they’ll have something to chew on for a while.”

Liz felt pinned down by Rosie’s look. She knew Liz and Drew had history, however brief. They’d talked about it before Liz went back to New Mexico and they’d both agreed it was best Mitch not know about it. Liz could only hope Rose’s opinion on that wouldn’t change now that Liz had moved home.

“Of course not,” Josh replied. “It’s ridiculous. Drew’s too good a friend to Mitch to try something with you.”

It was ridiculous, all right, but not for the reason he thought. “How come nobody assumes I’d try something with him?”

“Girls having a crush on their older brother’s best friend is typical. It’s up to the best friend to keep his hands to himself.”

“That’s so insulting.” When she saw Rose’s mouth tighten, Liz realized she didn’t really want to continue down this conversational path. “Not that it matters, but two adults worrying about what big brother will think is pretty juvenile.”

She watched Rose put water on for tea and she thought about mentioning the caffeine thing, but then reconsidered. One cup of tea wouldn’t hurt. Probably. Besides, she still had a lot on her to-do list and she could use the extra jolt.

“I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that,” Rose said, and it took Liz a second to realize she was still talking about the Mustang being in her driveway. “But speaking of Drew, I wonder where Andy got to.”

“I saw him with the chain saw, so he probably went out to take care of that branch that came down on the edge of the tree line in that last storm. Shouldn’t take him more than a few minutes.”

Liz’s gaze drifted to a counted cross-stitched sampler hanging on the wall that read Bless This Kitchen. According to Rosie, Liz’s mom had stitched it when Sean was a baby, so it had been made before Liz or Josh were born, and it made her smile. This kitchen did feel blessed, and she was overcome again by the certainty she’d made the right decision in coming home.

“I know you didn’t want us to fuss,” Rosie was saying, “but we couldn’t have you walking into an empty house with no place to sit or lay your head but on the floor.”

“It’s perfect. Especially my bedroom. As soon as I walked in the room, it felt like home, so thank you for ignoring me.”

“Anytime.” Rosie winked.

“So what’s up with your car?” Josh asked. “You could have borrowed the plow truck. Nobody’s using it right now, obviously.”

“Let me see...old plow truck or a sweet little Mustang? Tough choice, Josh.” She laughed. “Drew was pretty insistent, actually. He likes the idea of rubbing the car in Mitch’s face.”

“He’s always said he missed a shift.”

She rolled her eyes. “Men.”

“Back to your car,” Rosie said. “How bad is it?”

“Managed to whack both the front and rear fenders, and the back was bad enough so Drew said I couldn’t drive it. He and Butch both implied I’d be better off replacing the entire car.”

The back screen door opened and Andy Miller walked into the kitchen. He smiled when he saw her sitting at the table. “Hey, Liz. It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too.” A little weird, since he wasn’t allowed at the lodge for much of Liz’s life, thanks to something he’d done decades before that pissed Rosie off. Now the housekeeper had not only forgiven him, but fallen in love with him and moved him into the lodge.

Definitely weird, she thought when he put his arm around Rosie’s waist and kissed her cheek as the teakettle started whistling. When she swatted at his behind, Liz looked at Josh, who only shrugged.

“Liz was just telling us she went off the road last night and wiped out her fenders on a tree, which is why your son’s Mustang was parked in her driveway.”

That took the weird up yet another level, Liz thought, killing the wince before it could show on her face. Rosie and Drew’s dad being a thing was just one more reason to forget she and Drew had ever had awesome sex that fell short of perfect only because they hadn’t had hours more to spend together.

“Knew there was a good reason,” Andy replied, stealing a cookie from the jar on the counter. “Can’t remember the last time he let anybody drive that car of his, though. I don’t recall Mallory even driving it.”

Liz didn’t want anybody spending too much time analyzing why Drew would let her drive it when his ex-wife didn’t, beyond the superficial reason of annoying Mitch, so she steered the conversation away. “Butch thinks I should take whatever the insurance company will give me and run.”

“One of the most honest guys I know,” Andy said. “If he doesn’t think it’s worth hunting down fenders and repairing the vehicle, he’s probably right.”

Liz smiled her thanks when Rose set a mug of black tea in front of her, and half listened while Andy and Josh talked cars, insurance claims and junkyards. She wasn’t holding out much hope of being able to find fenders in the right color for her car in a junkyard within driving distance, and she wouldn’t be able to afford a new paint job, anyway. She should probably grab a newspaper at the market and see what vehicles were for sale in the area.

“Enough with cars,” Rosie said, sitting down across the table from Liz. “How does it feel to be home?”

“It feels good,” she said honestly. “I had breakfast at the diner this morning and met Tori. I think I’ll like working there, and Lauren’s house is perfect. And I’m tired of sharing everybody’s lives over the phone.”

“I’ve already told Sean I expect him, Emma and the baby to come over from New Hampshire for Christmas this year. I know they celebrated with your aunt and uncle last year because Emma was pregnant, but this will be the first holiday with all of you home since I don’t know when.”

Liz could see the tears gathering in Rosie’s eyes, so she tried for a conversational U-turn. Rose loved to manage things. “I guess since I’m staying, I need to see if I can get a 207 number for my cell. Should I bother getting a landline? And maybe I’ll get cable. And a TV.”

Rose grabbed a piece of paper and a pen while the men fled the room and got down to business. Liz drank her tea and let the woman do what she loved best.

* * *

“Was that the Kowalski girl I saw driving your Mustang?”

Drew looked up at Officer Bob Durgin, who had spoken from his open doorway without preamble. “I lent Liz my car, yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

Drew arched an eyebrow, not caring for the guy’s tone. Durgin had always had it in for the Kowalski kids. Sometimes they deserved it, like the night a teenage Mitch leading him on a merry chase in his Camaro had led to Bob rolling the new cruiser. Drew was certain Bob still had no idea Drew was riding shotgun that night. And sometimes they didn’t deserve it. They’d found out when Mitch first returned to Whitford to help turn the lodge around that Bob Durgin had been in love with Sarah and, apparently as part of never forgiving her for choosing Frank Kowalski, he held a grudge against her and Frank’s kids.

“Since we’re not exactly overrun by car rental agencies in Whitford, I lent a friend of mine a vehicle until hers is fixed,” he said, careful not to let his annoyance show in his tone.

“You know how those kids are when they’ve got a fast car.”

Yes, he did. Because he was usually in Mitch’s passenger seat or running his Mustang up the road behind him. Except for that one time, of course, when he’d been in front. “Liz is a thirtysomething-year-old woman now, Bob. We’ve all grown into fairly law-abiding citizens.”

It was probably best not to mention that he’d stopped Liz for speeding the day after he gave her the keys.

Bob made a disapproving sound and wandered off toward the coffee machine. Drew watched him for a minute, then tried to return to his paperwork.

Despite his long-standing beef with the Kowalski kids, Bob Durgin was a good, steady cop. He’d be retiring in a few years, most likely, and when he did he’d have the distinction of having served his entire career, right from his first day as a rookie, with the Whitford Police Department. Even Drew had done several years in Portland before moving home again when a vacancy opened up at the same time his stepmother passed away from ovarian cancer.

Bob had been offered the chief’s position, of course. It would have been rude not to offer it after all his years on the force, but the town had made the offer safe in the assumption he wouldn’t take the job. The man had no patience for politics, haggling with the budget committee over new tires for the cruisers, or being polite to citizens when they were a pain in the ass.

Drew glanced up to check the time and, as if Bob Durgin had conjured her, Liz Kowalski appeared in his doorway. Her smile brightened his day considerably. “Hey, come on in.”

“I think Durgin wants me in handcuffs.” His reaction to the word
handcuffs
must have shown on his face, because she laughed. “I meant, as in under arrest. Don’t even try to stick me with that visual.”

“Nobody wants that. So, have a seat and tell me what’s up.”

She sat in the chair across the desk from him and sighed. “What’s up is that Butch and the insurance company agree that it’s time for my car to go to the great junkyard in the sky. Even if he could repair the front fender, he started calling junkyards to see about a rear fender and gave up when he got to New York area codes.”

“Sorry to hear it. What’s next?”

“I need a copy of the report, of course, to send to them. And then I wait for a check from them and start watching the classifieds.”

Drew leaned back in his chair and tried to think of anybody he knew who was selling something decent for a reasonable price, but came up blank. “You can drive the Mustang as long as you need to, you know.”

Pink tinted her cheeks and he knew she’d prefer not to have to rely on his help. “Josh said I could drive the lodge’s pickup. The older one they plow with.”

“The Mustang’s a bit of a gas hog, but nowhere near as bad as that truck. You may as well have Paige write your paychecks out to the service station if you take him up on that offer.”

“It shouldn’t be long, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

He didn’t. “I like seeing it go down the road. When I do get a chance to take it out, I’m inside, so I don’t get to see how awesome it looks on the move.”

“She does like to move.”

He tried to give her a stern look, but it dissolved into a chuckle. “Officer Durgin has his eye on you, just so you know. He’s pretty outraged I lent one of those Kowalski kids a fast car.”