Love Me if You Dare (4 page)

“I get it. Lexie loved travel and swore she’d never give it up for any man. Yet, we’re going house-hunting. Draw your own conclusions.” Coop spoke in a patronizing voice.

Sara grit her teeth, ignoring his comment.

Finally Coop glanced at his watch and rose from his seat. “I’ve got to go meet Lexie.”

Sara smiled. She never stayed mad at him for long. “Say hello for me. And good luck finding the right place.”

“Thanks.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Even if you don’t want to give things with Rafe a try, he might still be the solution to your problem. You need to stay safe, and he’s already out of town. Maybe you could join him.”

As much as Sara hated to admit it, Coop just might have a point, but she needed to be convinced. “He’s recovering from a stabbing and major surgery.” She glanced at Coop, wanting him to play devil’s advocate with her.

“We both know Rafe at minimal capacity is worth a lot. Look at it this way. Between the two of you, you’re the equivalent of one healthy person.” Coop chuckled.

Hadn’t she just thought the same thing? Together they were the perfect team. Professional team, she silently amended.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised. She had a hunch she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else.

“Do that. Because it’s going to get crazy for you in the city. You won’t know the lunatics from the murderers.”

Sara shivered at his accurate description. “Even if I wanted to join him, according to the Bachelor Blogger, nobody knows where he is.”

Coop rolled his eyes. “As if that’s an issue. I’m sure a resourceful cop could figure it out. If she really wanted to.”

She groaned and shook her head. “You’re impossible,” she said, laughing. “
Nothing
is impossible.”

S
ARA DIDN’T RUSH
to leave town. She still had things to take care of before she could disappear for a while, including visiting her physical therapist and making sure she had the rehab exercises she’d need while she was gone. She also wanted to see the fallout from the blog for herself before making any rash decisions to run.

Over the next few days, Sara learned what it meant to be the focus of the Bachelor Blog. Someone had gotten hold of her unlisted phone number and called her at odd hours, seeking phone sex, which forced her to disconnect her landline. Gifts accumulated at the station house and outside her apartment
door.

Her walk-up apartment, without a doorman for security, provided crazy people with easy access inside her building. All it took was a resident exiting the otherwise locked door and strangers casually slipped inside, leaving her creepy notes and pornographic
gifts. Not a good thing, especially now, when as Coop said, she couldn’t distinguish the crazies from the murderers. She wished she had the luxury to ignore the gifts, but she needed to know if there was a valid threat from Morley or his people.

An innocuous-looking gift, wrapped in plain brown paper left outside her door along with a computer-generated label, finally convinced her it was time to go. The package looked identical to many others she’d received, but the note inside was different:

We can get to you anywhere, anytime.

She was now officially scared. Being held at knifepoint by one lunatic was enough to convince her not to take stupid chances with her life.

There was only one man she trusted to keep her safe. The same man who’d never been far from her thoughts and dreams. She’d kept up on Rafe’s progress through the station grapevine and knew he was feeling better each day. He’d already successfully eluded the Bachelor Blogger’s reach. She needed to do the same. As a bonus, she’d be able to spend time with him and discover whether he’d meant the compliments he’d uttered before passing out.

But first she needed to find him.

She’d been using her cell phone for personal calls, but someone as well-connected as John Morley, someone willing to kill for money, would find a way to track her cell. She purchased a disposable phone with
limited minutes, and in between packing, she called Rafe’s cell. He didn’t answer. Her call went directly to voice mail, and though she left a message, by the end of the day he hadn’t returned her call.

Out of options, she either had to surprise him or not go stay with him after all.

She stalled leaving for another day.

Then the assistant district attorney in charge of the case called to tell her they’d had a tip from John Morley’s cell mate, seeking favors in exchange for
helpful
information. Morley mentioned how he
hoped
something would happen to that pain-in-the-ass cop before she could testify. And as the inmate pointed out, people with Morley’s connections knew how to make their wishes come true.

No more waiting to reach Rafe.

Sara rented a car with a good GPS system and headed north. It wasn’t hard to figure out where Rafe had gone. He used to talk about his cabin on Lake Ontario, in his hometown. The perfect getaway in the middle of a scorching summer heat wave. And since he also would complain about how the village of Hidden Falls was so small everyone knew everyone else’s business, finding him there should be as easy as a map and a few targeted questions on arrival.

She couldn’t imagine him turning her away.

R
AFE MET HIS BROTHER,
Nick, at Billy’s Bar, an institution in Hidden Falls. With the vast amount of wineries in the area attracting the summer tourists, Billy’s was the place where the locals met and hung out. Billy was older than dirt and had long since turned the running of the bar over to his son, Joe, who, like his father, knew everyone’s choice in drink with no need to ask.

While Rafe nursed his first beer, Nick was already on his third.

“Angel giving you trouble again?” Rafe asked his brother.

Nick narrowed his eyes and rumbled an unintelligible answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

To the horror of the older generation in the family, Nick and his wife had separated. Angelina, or Angel as everyone called her, had moved into her father’s empty home. Empty because her father, Pirro DeVittorio, had recently married Rafe and Nick’s
Aunt Vivian, a widow of five years, and lived in her house.

Aunt Vi was their father’s sister, an aunt who Rafe had always felt close to over the years. Together, Aunt Vi and Rafe’s father ran the Spicy Secret, the family business, while Pirro was head of shipping and delivery. Add in Nick as vice president, and the family’s business and personal connections were definitely messier now.

Rafe glanced at his older brother. Nick’s current foul mood went beyond the separation, which was six months old.

Unlike Rafe, who’d gotten out of town and broadened his horizons as well as his beliefs, Nick was still a traditional man who’d expected his wife to stay at home or work in the family spice business only until she had children. But after Angel had a miscarriage, she’d decided she needed something more out of life.

She wanted to open her own business. Nick didn’t agree. Angel went ahead with her plan anyway, and when the arguing became too much, she moved into her father’s house and turned the upstairs rooms into guest rooms. She’d joined the chamber of commerce and now ran a successful bed-and-breakfast. On the surface, it seemed like Nick just couldn’t deal with a businesswoman as his wife, and until he did, Angel wouldn’t budge on reconciliation.

Rafe sensed there was more going on.

“Women know how to make you crazy,” Nick said, finishing the last of his beer.

“I hear you,” Rafe muttered. A woman who wasn’t even his had him tied up in knots.

Sara still occupied his thoughts, day and night. He’d hoped by coming here and getting away from the damned blog and its innuendos, maybe then he’d stop wanting a woman he couldn’t have. He’d accomplished part of his goal. He was relaxing and recuperating, feeling stronger every day. But even without the blog, Sara was constantly on his mind.

Nick raised his hand to order another drink.

“Hey. You’ve had enough,” Rafe said, waving away the waitress. “Let’s talk first. Then, if you still want to keep drowning yourself in alcohol, I won’t stop you.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “I hate it when you use that psych degree on me.”

Rafe shook his head. “You don’t need a shrink. You need common sense knocked into your thick skull. It’s the twenty-first century. How’s the caveman attitude working out for you?” He deliberately provoked his brother, hoping for a reaction. For something that would explain why Nick was acting like a Neanderthal and not a smart guy who could compromise with the wife whom he loved.

Nick glanced up, eyes red and bleary. “Hey, smart-
ass, did you forget my wife had a miscarriage? It’s not cavemanlike to want her to deal with the loss instead of burying her emotions in work.”

Finally.
Now Rafe understood. “You never talked about it except to tell me it happened.”

Rafe lived five hours away, and his brother was the least-communicative human being he knew. Which explained why there were missing pieces to this story.

Nick glanced down. “It’s not the easiest thing to talk about. The doctor said she probably would never carry to term. That’s when she started talking about turning her father’s house into a bed-and-breakfast. Then she set about doing it. If she grieved for the loss of the baby, the loss of our dream of having a big family, I never saw it.”

Rafe placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Everyone grieves differently.”

“I know that. But that business stands between us. She’s buried herself in it, and now we’re at a stalemate.” He ran his hands over his hair.

Rafe had seen Angel since he’d been home. She looked healthy and happy except for the pain in her eyes caused by her disintegrating marriage. “She’s handling the responsibility of the business well. The B and B is thriving. Especially with the festival starting in a few days,” Rafe said.

The Hidden Falls Wine Festival, an annual summer
event, had started out as a summertime town festival sponsored by a local vineyard and other homegrown businesses, including his family’s. Eventually, larger, national companies got in on the action—a weeklong event featuring up-and-coming local bands, a carnival and booths run by locals. Angel’s B and B was small, but it offered people a down-home place to stay, and this was her first time with a full house courtesy of the festival.

“So you agree with me. She’s overworked, stressed and unable to focus on what’s really important.”

Rafe set his jaw. “Uh, no. She seems to be coping just fine. You, on the other hand, are a miserable, unhappy son of a bitch.”

Nick narrowed his gaze. His curled his hands into fists, clenching them tight on the table. “I can’t believe you’re taking sides.”

“I’m telling it like it is, which nobody else in the family is willing to do. They’re all too busy hovering over Angel, reminding her you’re waiting for her to fail and come home.” Rafe drew a deep breath. “What’s really eating at you? Because until you figure it out, nothing’s ever going to get better.”

Nick didn’t answer. He merely raised his hand for another beer.

Rafe was finished nursing his and ready to go home. Nobody could help Nick except Nick.

Rising from his seat, Rafe pulled money from
his pocket and dumped it onto the table. “See you at dinner at Mom’s tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Angel going?” Maybe there’d be a chance for the two of them to talk.

“Nope. She says it’s time we start acting like we’re separated. She’s not coming to family gatherings unless it’s for her immediate family—like her father or Aunt Vi. My family doesn’t count.” He stared into his empty glass.

“Come on. Let me take you home,” Rafe offered.

Nick shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m driving. I’ll walk home after this last beer.”

Rafe shrugged. “See you tomorrow night.”

S
ARA KNEW DRIVING
five hours in a car would be tough even if she stopped every sixty minutes to stretch her legs. She just hadn’t known how tough. Her leg was cramped, her knee aching by the time she arrived in Hidden Falls, near dinnertime. As she pulled off the exit, she saw a billboard advertising the Hidden Falls Wine Festival coming up this week. She hoped that wouldn’t impact her finding a place to stay until she located and spoke to Rafe.

As if divine providence was at work, the next sign advertised Angel’s Bed-and-Breakfast.

“Pretty name,” Sara mused. And if the accom
modations were as heavenly, she’d soon be resting her knee.

She followed subsequent signs until she pulled into the gravel drive leading to a Victorian house painted in a robin’s egg–blue with white trim.

So far so good.

Leaving her suitcase in the trunk, she limped up the path to the front porch. Although she’d begun walking better, the drive had stiffened her muscles.

She rang the bell, and in no time the door opened and an attractive, raven-haired woman greeted her with a welcoming smile. “Can I help you?”

Sara nodded. “I saw your sign off the highway and was hoping you had an available room.”

“You can stay for two nights,” the woman said. “But after that, I’m booked. The Wine Festival is starting, and we’ve been fully booked for months.”

“Two nights works fine.”

She’d come here hoping she could stay with Rafe anyway. On the off chance someone discovered where she’d gone, he’d be right there as backup. But she’d be safe here at Angel’s for a short time. She felt certain nobody had followed her out of the city. She had been extremely careful, taking a long detour around Manhattan, stopping for errands, doubling back, making sure nobody was on her tail.

She’d rest her knee, and by the time Angel needed the room, she’d know whether Rafe minded having
a visitor or if she had to make alternate arrangements.

“Okay, then, come on in. I’m Angel Mancuso, and I’m the owner. Chief cook, maid and companion, when you want one. And if you’d rather be alone, I can accommodate that, too. Do you need help getting your bags from the car?”

Sara barely heard her spiel. She was stuck on the woman’s last name. “Did you say you’re Angel
Mancuso?
”

“Yes. Why?” Curiosity etched her features.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. “I’m here to visit a friend. Rafe Mancuso?”

The other woman’s eyes widened in recognition. “Rafe is my brother-in-law!” Angel said. “I’d say it’s a small world, but around here everyone knows everyone and is potentially related somehow.” Angel laughed. “So, do you know Rafe from the city?”

Sara nodded. “We used to be partners.”

Angel studied her, her eyes narrowing. “Actually, you look familiar.”

“I can’t imagine why. I’ve never been here before.”

The other woman paused in thought. “I know!” Angel snapped her fingers. “You’re the one Rafe was with the night he was injured! My mother-in-law showed me the articles from the hostage crisis. You’re prettier in person.”

“Thank you. Those department-issued pictures aren’t very glamorous,” she said, laughing.

“The whole family appreciates how you took such good care of Rafe, staying by his side and all.”

A heated flush rose to her face. “We used to be partners. He would have done the same for me.” She turned away, taking in her surroundings. Paintings adorned the walls; an area rug covered the hardwood floor in the entryway.

“So, do you and your husband live here?” Sara swept her arm, gesturing at the lovely house.

The light in Angel’s eyes flickered and dimmed. “No. I’m afraid we’re separated,” she said, obvious pain in the admission.

“I’m sorry.” Something about Angel inspired an easy rapport, and Sara reached out, touching the other woman’s shoulder in comfort.

“Thank you. Why don’t you come on in and get settled?” Angel asked.

Sara nodded. “First I need to get my bag from the car.”

A few minutes later, bag in hand, she followed Angel upstairs to a floral-wallpapered bedroom. Fresh flowers filled a small vase on the dresser, and an antique lamp sat on the nightstand.

“This is beautiful,” Sara said, running her hand over the lemon-colored comforter on a four-poster bed.

“Relax and enjoy.”

“I intend to! I desperately need a nap,” Sara said. “And can I bother you for an ice pack or a bag of ice?” She pointed to her knee, over which she now wore a lighter brace than the original one given to her in the emergency room.

“Of course!” The other woman turned to go.

“Angel?”

“Yes?” She braced her hand on the door frame and turned back around.

Sara swallowed hard. “Can you possibly tell me where to find Rafe? I tried to reach him to let him know I was coming, but I couldn’t get through to his cell. I’d like to stop by after dinner.”

Angel smiled. “Of course. I’ll write down the address where you can find him, along with directions.”

“Great. I’d appreciate it.”

“So, dinner is at six. I hope you like fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”

Sara’s mouth watered at the thought. “Perfect.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be right back with the ice.” She stepped out, leaving Sara alone.

She collapsed onto the comfortable bed. A light lemony scent permeated the room, and she relaxed, allowing her body to absorb the softness surrounding her, feeling calmer and safer than she had in New York City.

R
AFE’S PARENTS STILL
lived in the house he’d grown up in. Except for some updates and renovations, everything remained the same. Until the family descended. Then the noise level and chaos exceeded anything he remembered or could tolerate. Rafe was thirty-one and ready to settle down, while his sisters were married and lived within half a mile of their parents and each other, as did Nick. With the exception of Nick, they all had children. To most people, the sheer numbers would be confusing. To Rafe, it was normal.

His oldest sister, Joanne, had six years on him and always acted like his mother. She had a thirteen-year-old daughter and two rambunctious ten-year-old twin sons who currently wrestled in the den. Nick came next, then Rafe. Carol was three years younger than Rafe and had gotten an early start on her family. She had three adorable kids that Rafe called the Steps due to their ever-increasing height, girls ages two, four and six. Andrea was the most spoiled and self-centered, but she was learning how to give, thanks to her new baby boy.

And they all loved their fun-loving single uncle Rafe. He managed to maintain that status by living in the city, visiting when he could and not allowing himself to be overwhelmed by family all the time.

When the noise level in the living room reached epidemic proportions, Rafe escaped onto the front-
porch swing for some peace. The summer air was hot and humid, but at least the noise dimmed. He had only a few quiet minutes when his thirteen-year-old niece, Toni, joined him.

An adorable kid with light brown hair, her mother’s serious eyes and a mini-adult personality, she immediately started talking.

“Hey, Uncle Rafe.” She began kicking her feet back and forth beneath her.

“Hey, kid. Noise too much for you in there, too?” He pointed inside toward his parents’ living room.

She nodded. “But I also wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Shoot,” he told her, gesturing with his hands.

“Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “You’re a guy, right?”

“Last time I looked,” he joked.