Chapter Five
Mike leaned against the doorway to the dispatch room and resisted a chuckle. He wasn’t sure which one of them would pull their hair out first. Tiffany or Mary Sue.
Though Mary Sue would never show it, Mike knew her well enough to know she was getting on her last thread. It wasn’t that Tiffany was trying to be complicated, she was just Tiffany. Yesterday he’d been worried, but as the day moved on, they found a routine. By this morning, they were operating around each other with few hiccups or awkward moments. An hour ago, they'd hit their stride, and become a team. Whatever odd friction and uncertainty had been there had cleared out.
It was the same with him. Yesterday morning he would have said hell no, but after last evening, first her respect for his needs on the courthouse steps and then just in his house, watching a movie. More than once he’d wondered,
what if?
Tiffany raked her fingers through her hair. “It’s just your husband on the other end. Why waste all this time with these codes when we can just say what we need?”
Mary Sue straightened, serene looking as can be even though Mike knew better. By her jerky movements sorting through papers, she was seconds from exploding. “That is how things are done. Occasionally we check in with other stations and we need the correct lingo. The codes are useful in front of suspects as well. We can be frank about things and the criminals never know it.”
Tiffany groaned and flattened her hand over a sheet of paper. “Fine.” She lifted the mic and brought her to her lips. “Deputy Watkins, that’s a 10-4 on a turkey sandwich for your wife.”
“10-4, station.”
The static clicked off and fuzzed. Tiffany shook her head and clicked it back on. “Ya, know what? Turns out that’s a negative, Deputy Watkins.”
Fuzzy static and then Will Watkins clicked back on. “Negative?”
“Negative,” Tiffany said with a nod. “Your wife wants you to pick her up and take her to lunch instead. Over and out.” Tiffany leaned back in her chair and Mary Sue’s mouth was wide open.
Mary Sue’s thread had just snapped. “I can’t leave! You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Mary Sue, the only officer in town is going to be eating lunch with you. I think I’ll be fine. I’ll wing whatever else comes through.”
“No. There is no winging of things in this office.” Mary Sue’s impeccably straight back straightened as the woman composed herself against Tiffany’s smile.
Mike resisted the chuckle and pushed off the wall. “It’s fine, Mary Sue. Go on and have lunch. I’ll be here. I think we can handle whatever happens for the next hour.”
Mary Sue glanced from him to the NINC dispatch machine. “Right here?”
“In that chair as soon as you leave it. I swear it’ll be warm when you get back.”
“Very well.”
He held out his hand and helped her to stand. Her belly had begun poking out probably since month two. Though she had another four months to go, she was looking ready to pop. “I’ll walk you out.”
“No, no.” She patted his arm. “I’ve got it. Something might come up here.”
He smiled and let her walk away. When he turned back, Tiffany was grinning. “That was nice of you.”
She shrugged. “I've kind of gotten to where I like her. And she should have lunch with her husband. It’s not like things are hopping at the speed of light on this machine.”
He sat in the chair as promised and picked up a pen to keep his hands busy. Anything to avoid touching her at all costs in this office and bonus if it kept him from thinking about her. Which was impossible, because even when she wasn’t in the room, or hell, the building, he still couldn’t get her off his mind. Especially not since last night.
Not that anything happened. He held her. He laughed with her. He walked her to her truck. And then waved as she drove down his driveway and away from him. The moment he’d walked back inside, he leaned against a wall and dropped to his ass on the floor.
On the floor of his entryway he’d sat, hating his job for the first time in his life. Something had changed in those couple hours last night. He no longer just craved Tiffany McBride, he respected her.
In just a couple of days, her secrets were peeled back from him and she became the woman he’d always wanted. No, she’d always been that woman, he’d just finally been able to see her. And now arranging this lunch date for Mary Sue. A simple gesture hinting at a big heart underneath and he wanted to see more. He wanted to see all of her, now. “What am I in for tonight?”
A frown crossed her face for mere seconds. “I’m not sure. Supper would be nice. What can you cook for me?”
He colored on the corner of a piece of paper, trying to keep himself busy. “What do you want?”
“Surprise me and make it good.”
He chuckled. Hell no. “Lucky for me, we’re still eight-to-five here and I’m in charge, so spit out what you want to eat.”
Her nose curled up. “That was dirty playing. See if I give you any ideas again.”
He laughed, wanting more of this, more of last night. It was a night you expected to have
someday
. Lazy evening with a movie. That
someday
was here and he didn’t want it going away again. Tiffany had her past issues, sure. They were still a problem.
But if he was seeing her true insides this fast when he’d been doing everything he could to look away, then everyone else would too. He would just bet Mary Sue, who was well respected along with her family in this town, would see beyond the façade of Tiffany McBride this town had come to know and that would only help. Give it a month of Tiffany not haggling for money and everyone would be talking about the beautiful giving woman she was.
Instead of Tiffany dragging his name down as he first imagined, he would bring hers up. “Fair is fair. I won’t tell you what’s on board for Saturday then.”
“The weekend?”
He stopped with the pen. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t know our arrangement included the weekend.”
He shuffled. Hell, he hadn’t thought about it. It was just another day and things needed done. “Doesn’t have to. We weren’t specific, if you have other plans.”
“No. That’s fine, I just didn’t expect it. What did you have in mind?”
“The flowerbeds need weeding and the grass cut here at the courthouse.”
“Don’t you have someone to do that?”
He pointed at himself. “And Mary Sue typically does the beds, but I don’t want her bent over like that, doing that work for long periods of time.”
“Agreed.”
“So what’s for dinner?” He asked, wanting to keep this easy conversation going. If there was the briefest of pauses, he might fuck up and say or do something he would later regret. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but he knew he wanted more of this. He always thought having her would be harder, but now that she was here and he was wanting something, the tension was gone. It was, plainly put, easy.
“Mike.”
He looked up.
“I said, it’s still the middle of the day when you’re in charge of choosing.”
Chapter Six
The dishwasher clicked and Tiffany turned for it. She wasn’t fast enough to slip it past Mike though. This would have been easier at her house. Jessie could have put dinner in early for her and then Mike would have never known, but their house was falling apart. And she knew how Mike would take that with his take care of everything attitude. So his house was pretty much a requirement.
Just as she dropped open the door and steamed rolled out, Mike walked in the kitchen.
“What did you decide for supper?”
“Ham, corn, and potatoes.” Time to get the walk of shame over with. She bent with a rag in her hands and lifted the plastic sealed, fully cooked ham out of the dishwasher and set it in the sink.
Mike moved next to her and looked in the sink. He pointed at the steaming ham. “You just pulled that out of the dishwasher.”
“Yep.”
She turned back and tested her fork on the potatoes boiling on the stove but they weren’t quite ready yet. When she looked back, Mike was staring into the dishwasher. “There are tubes of foil still in there.”
“The corn.” She closed the door. “I’ll leave them in to keep them warm.”
“I have an oven.”
“I know, but this is how I know to cook ham. It’ll be juicy and perfect. Trust me.”
“How in the hell did you ever think of trying this?”
She swallowed down the sudden knot in her throat. “The first Thanksgiving after the accident, Jessie and I planned a menu. What we didn’t count on was the oven going on the fritz that morning. Luckily there was instructions right there on the ham saying to just run it through the dishwasher.”
“And the corn in there?”
She shrugged. “We figured we might as well while the cycle was going just to see. Not enough heat for potatoes though. That year they were still pretty hard. Jessie sliced them real fast and skillet fried them.”
He was still frowning, clear confusion on his face. “But my oven works just fine.”
“But I know the ham will come out right this way.” She shook her head and turned back for the pot of potatoes, poking at what she already knew was firm. “Momma didn’t have me in the kitchen much. Unless it’s sandwiches, this is pretty much it for what I can do. Except grilled cheese. I burn those every time. Mostly. One side gets golden, the other is blacker than pavement. Get the salad out of the refrigerator? It’s a pretty day, so I fixed your picnic table outside.”
Mike followed her instructions, thankfully leaving the kitchen and giving some much needed breathing room. This was going to be a long night of trying to get through with her hands to herself.
He came back through the kitchen all too fast though, his masculine scent of course came with him. “I’ll start cutting this up.”
“Okay.” She poked her potatoes, relieved to see they were done. Busy hands. No reason to talk. No reason to put her hands on his hard body. Wide shoulders. Narrow waist. Or perfect ass in those jeans and the best pair of man legs she ever saw.
She cleared her throat and got her mind on the potatoes. Mashing them with a fork and mixing in plenty of butter and milk. Mash. Butter. Milk. Repeat. Toss in salt and pepper for good measure. And then spread the creamy potatoes over his chest so she could lick them off.
A groan vibrated her gut. Lord have mercy. No. Just no. Mashed potato smeared on bodies—never. Not even on Mike’s excellent form. She turned at noise shuffling behind her and winced. Okay, for Mike’s body she’d totally take on a kinky mashed potato fetish. Or just skip it all together and go straight for her tongue on his body. That was if she could have him. And what she’d realized last night was that she most certainly could not have him.
She added a few pads of butter to melt over the top. “Ready here.”
“Just finishing up.”
She lifted her bowl and followed him outside. While he added a couple of thick slices of juicy ham to the set plates, she tended to straightening already straight forks, adjusting already three times over adjusted napkins. She shouldn’t have even come here tonight.
Not after last night. Not after things shoved to a head and then fizzled. Teasing and having fun was one thing. Setting herself for one giant let down was another.
And any further personal entanglement with Mike was a guaranteed let down. Facts were facts. There were far too many bad things attached to her name and she wouldn’t taint Mike’s career—his life—to amuse herself. Despite what most said about her, she wasn’t a selfish bitch.
She sat down, ready for a perfectly normal, quiet meal and then she was going home. Where she’d figure a way out of these nightly activities of having him at her fingers when she couldn’t actually touch.
“Feeling all right?”
She started fixing plates by plopping potatoes on them to the side. “Fine. Just fine.”
“Sure? You seem a little tired.”
She pressed her lips together. “Maybe a little.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. She was tired, just not physically. Mentally and emotionally, she was exhausted. It was absurd. Ridiculous…but nonetheless, she couldn’t ignore that she was tired of her life and the steady stream of disappointments in it. There was no one to blame but herself, which only served to piss her off more.
She was the one who flew off into the wild-child-beyond-yonder when her parents died. Now she was paying for every last stunt, trick, and just plain stupid thing she ever did. Mike sat next to her, the heat of his body touched hers through her thin sundress. His warm scent filled her over the food and it was too much. There evidently had been a reason she’d kept her feelings hidden all these years. Acknowledging what she couldn’t have was just too damn hard.
She stood. “I need to go.”
He looked up, and frowned. “Why? Eat first.”
She shook her head and stepped over the bench seat. “No. I can’t do this.”
He caught her wrist and stood, pulling her back. “Can’t do what?”
She gestured between them, willing herself not to cry. Cry. Really?
Her?
Tiffany McBride did not cry. At least, not when people were looking. And not over something like this. She cried over…now that she thought of it, she couldn’t remember the last time she did cry. She shook her head and swore not to go there either.
It was all slamming in her face at once. Mike. Her parents. The childhood she should have had over the one she did.
She swallowed through the sandpaper lining down her throat. “This sitting down to eat like we’re friends.”
He was still frowning. “We are friends.”
“No we’re not.”
“Then maybe you could tell me what we are?”
She blinked off the salty water that was still flooding in her eyes. “You know what we are. What we want to be and that we can’t.”
His lips flattened. “This is about last night.”
She shrugged. “You’re right though. Last night you were right. I would never risk your career over something stupid with me.”
His brows drew sharply together. “Stop it.”
She pushed on his hand holding her still and tried shoving it off. There was no budging him. Never had been. “Let me go. We know we can’t do this.”
“Damn it, Tiffany, just stop for five minutes.”
“And do what?” She wanted to be mad. Mad was easier. Mad made sense…sort of. It at least made more sense than wanting to cry over something she never had.
“Stop trying to leave, for starters.”
“Why do you want me to stay? You know I don’t need to stay. I don’t belong in your life. I never did. There’s no place for me. We both know that.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you belong or not, I want you here.”
“Staying would be stupid.” She looked away. At the kept green yard. The gentle summer breeze that was anything but comforting as it rolled and swirled Mike’s essence around her and left her cold. “There’s no room for me.”
“Give us time to figure this out.”
She shook her head. “You know what people are going to say. You’re going to come under fire. Your choices are going to be criticized.”
“Tiffany.”
“Don’t tell me they won’t. I hear it all the time. I haven’t done the really stupid things in my life since I was teenager, but people around here don’t forget. Good lord, Mike, I actually left a bag of burning dog shit on the current mayor’s doorstep! His wife opened the door and caught her robe on fire and she stripped naked, stomping out the fire on her front porch for all her neighbors to see. You think stuff like that has been forgotten? I refuse to drag you down.”
He released his hold on her wrist, but her feet didn’t move fast enough to run away. His hands skimmed up her arms and shoulders until he cupped her face. His forehead pressed to hers. “Yesterday I would have agreed with you, but you’re a good person. The sacrifices you’ve made for Jessie are something to be admired. Just give me a chance to show you, to let the town see and then you’ll see, too. Instead of you bringing me down, I’ll bring you up to me. We have six months until voting.”
She dropped her eyes closed, unable to take staring into him. She couldn’t keep looking at him with him looking at her in that soft way, saying those things. Most certainly, she could not stay wrapped up in his arms. She cleared her face, pushed the emotion back, tucked away like she’d done for years and faced him with her head up. “We’re being stupid. We’re both saying things and we’re not even…we’ve aired a mutual attraction yesterday. That’s all we have here, a little sexual tension.”
“We spoken what we’ve been feeling and avoiding for nearly ten years now. Do not pull that crap with me, Tiffany.”
“This is a bad idea.” She was reduced to a whisper, the stone walls she’d just put up were crumbling with his every touch trying to breath warmth into her.
“Usually the bad things are the fun things, right?”
“Asshole.”
His smiling lips pressed to hers. The heat of his body ignited her blood and her arms wrapped around him. Years of temptation and she was finally tasting. Lips pressed over hers, his mouth claiming, yet gentle and slow as he tilted her head back and his tongue swept over her lower lip.
He should have remained forbidden. The taste of mint from the gum he’d carried for years, the same gum she’d bought just because he smelled of it, was not the same on his mouth. There was spice and heat on his cool tongue. Begging, grasping needing, tugging her tight to his body, forcing her heart to pound against the rock of his chest.
His arm curled around, pulled her in tight to the safe hold she always knew existed, but had always been too proud to cave and accept. The one place he’d tucked her on occasion when sneaking her from trouble and stashing her to safety.
Only this time there would be no disappointed look, no hope dying in his eyes that she was never going to learn.
He walked into her, his hips pressed to hers, the sharp, unyielding badge still clipped to his hip jutted into her belly, shooting reality like a bucket of cold water to rain over her head.
She pulled her mouth away from his, gasped for air and crashed her forehead on his chest. Her fingers curled into fist. Desperation to punch something rolled through…but the only thing to hit would be herself. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I think we should do it again.” His hands dropped down her sides and covered her back, kept her pulled close.
“We could have pretended it was going to suck. That we would suck together.”
“Not a chance. I’ve thought about you a lot and not once have I thought of us sucking.” His laugh rumbled his chest. “At least, not sucking in a bad way.”
She pinched his side. “You’re making it harder to walk away by being a dork.”
“Good, because I don’t want you walking anywhere.” He cupped her cheek and turned her face up to him. “After all these years, I’ve just given myself permission to have you and you keep trying to take that away.”