Staying Cool (7 page)

Patrick had changed. He was cool, reserved, and he'd turned her down—twice. He wasn't going to make this easy for her. Not that she blamed him.

Damn!
She had some serious groveling to do, so she'd best get started.

She shoved her hair off her face, stood, and straightened her shoulders. First, the bathroom, some splashes of cold water—then Patrick. When she stepped into the main room—the apartment was compact, kitchen at one end, living room at the other—Patrick's back was to her. Although she was barefoot and hadn't made a sound, he turned to her immediately. His expression was sober, so sober it stopped her where she stood.

"Sleep okay?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Good." He turned back to the cupboards and took out a box of cereal.

She had to smile. "Cocoa Puffs. Some things don't change."

"And some things do." He set the box on the table, dug out a couple of bowls, some milk, and two spoons. Then he put a steaming cup of coffee on the table. "Sit," he said. His words an echo of her own from just a few hours ago.

She sat, picked up the coffee, and drank. While she looked for a place to start, Patrick ate Cocoa Puffs.

He stopped long enough to ask, "So... when did you learn to crack a safe?"

Okay...
She set her coffee down, but kept her hands around it. As anchors went, it was all she had. "When I was fifteen. My dad was in the security business." She took a breath. "On both sides of the law. He started as a locksmith, purely legit. Saw more money on the other side and went for it. That got him ten years, and eventually a job with the FBI as their go-to guy."

"Interesting career path. Where is he now?"

"London. Doing some consulting for MI5."

Silence.

Gina gulped down some air. "Dad taught me well and when Marco started working for the Raven Force, he mentioned my, uh, skill to Tanner Cross. It's what got my foot in the door." She stopped. "That and my time with the CIA."

Patrick, who'd given up on his Cocoa Puffs, picked up his coffee. "How long were you with them?"

"Four years."

"And when we met?"

Her heart pounded a couple of good ones, then stalled. "I was with Raven Force. Between engagements. I didn't expect I'd— I didn't expect... you. You were—"

Silence.

"What was I, Gina?"

Misery pooled like bad soup in her gut. "I don't know. Back then, I only knew what you were supposed to be."

She couldn't sit still anymore, so she got up. So did Patrick, but while he said nothing, his eyes held a thousand questions.

"You were supposed to be a distraction. A good-looking guy who knew his way around the bedroom. A guy I could have a few laughs with, and walk away from when I had to."

"I see." He was still, the only movement in the room his chest rising and falling.

She shook her head. "No. No, you don't see, because you can't. You can't see the lies I told myself about how easy it would be, how I'd get over you. Eventually stop thinking about you 24/7. You can't see that I loved you—because I didn't know until I was a world away from you. Until I knew there was no way back. I'd have to admit to all my lies, and I was too much the coward for that." She paced a couple of steps. "And there was still my job. You were a cop. Not only does Raven Force not always do things by the book—" Briefly, she shut her eyes. "It was a job that would never let me be what you want."

"And what might that '
want
' have been?" The gleam in his eyes was oddly speculative.

"Come on, Patrick! Sure you were cop—but you're a traditional guy. You wanted to come home at night, have a beer, a nice dinner, have some kids, maybe a new station wagon every five years."

He cringed visibly. "I hate station wagons, I don't drink, and dinner is what restaurants are for." He stopped. "But, yes, to the kids. A boy and a girl, if you'd be kind enough."

She gaped at him. Well and truly gaped. He was smiling. "Have you been listening to me? At all?"

"Every word, love. Every word. But the only ones that count said something about you being in love with me. I figure we can pick things up from there." He covered the distance between them in three long strides, took her in his arms, and carried her to the bedroom. He plunked her unceremoniously on the bed and peeled off his shirt. The next second he was all over her, kissing her senseless, and making Cocoa Puffs of her few remaining brain cells.

"Wait!" She shoved him back—but not too far back. "Why aren't you a cop anymore?"

He kissed her where her neck met her shoulder. "I quit. I decided I don't much like guns and such—especially when they're pointed at me."

"You quit." She digested that; then, taken over by unstoppable female curiosity, asked, "Then what do you do—other than tail unsuspecting citizens?"

"It's this way, you see." He leaned close and kissed her ear. "After you left, and with me feeling so down, I decided I'd best take up with my second love."

"Which is?"

"I write books, about sex, murder, and general mayhem." He ran a finger from the pulse in her throat down to her belly. "And it seems I've found my perfect heroine."

"Books," she repeated, oddly not surprised.

"And can you believe they pay me for it—or will in couple of months when the first in the series comes out?"

"And that makes you happy? Writing books?"

"Ecstatic." He brushed his lips over hers. So soft. Her lungs imploded.

"Say it, Patrick. I want to hear it."

He stopped his kissing and took her face in his hands. Looking into her eyes, his own soft as moonlight, he said, "I love you, Gina. I always will."

She closed her eyes, savored the words. "And I love you, Patrick Byrne." But there was one last flutter of worry. "What I do—my job—are you okay with it?"

He cocked his head, frowned slightly. "Will there be station wagons?"

She laughed. "No."

He smiled. "Then we're good to go."

The End

Page forward for a note from EC Sheedy

A Note from EC Sheedy

Dear Reader,

Thank you for buying and reading this story. I sincerely hope you enjoyed STAYING COOL, and if you did, you'll watch for my other e-titles. :-)

Now Available:

ONE TOUGH COOKIE: A contemporary romance set on Spain's magical Costa del Sol and featuring a heroine resolutely determined to be financially, emotionally, and physically independent. She wants
no
man—until she meets Mister Wrong.

OVERKILL: The first in a series of short stories and novelettes featuring the Raven Force, a privately funded group of covert agents who work against the illegal arms/drug trade. Ravens cover the globe to get the job done—and to fall in love.

CALIFORNIA MAN: A romance set on an idyllic Pacific Northwest island, it tells the story of a timid, reclusive island woman who meets a golden California man—a man determined to calm her fears and gain her love.

MAN FOR THE MORNING: A single mother gets a break from her busy responsible life with a trip to Paris. Open-hearted, open-minded to all that life has to offer in the City of Light, she meets a man her polar opposite.

LOVE LETTERS, INC.: A clever and funny tech writer moonlights writing love letters for the "dating impaired" and ends up with love being returned to sender.

Happy reading!

Warm Wishes,

EC Sheedy

EC Sheedy who also writes as Carole Dean, lives in British Columbia. She is an island dweller—and loves it. Every morning she wakes to the ever changing sound and colors of the ocean outside her window. Whatever its mood, summer calm or winter storm, she finds it the perfect background for writing romance. She lives with her husband of many years and a Rhodesian Ridgeback who has convinced them both he is a person in dog's clothing.

For more about EC Sheedy and to see some views from her window, visit EC's webpage
www.ecsheedy.com

Or follow her on Twitter
@EC_Sheedy

To contact EC Sheedy, email: [email protected]