Crossing the Line (28 page)

“That can be a good thing. As long as it’s what you want.” Janey leaned back in her seat and scanned their surroundings. They were passing through a residential area where there had been some recent break-ins. Although burglary cases didn’t usually fall in their laps, keeping your eyes opened was a cop thing.

He was quiet until they turned onto the road that led to the station. “I like being with her. She . . . she makes me feel alive again.”

His partner chuckled. “And for that reason alone, I would like her. Paul, you’ve grieved for Melissa long enough. It’s time to move on. It’s okay to move on. Don’t you think that’s what your wife would have wanted? For you to be happy?”

Paul nodded. It was the only response he could give since his throat constricted with the overwhelming emotion he felt.

As soon as the car was parked in its spot, Janey was out of the vehicle, and on her way inside the station. “Come on. Let’s go get this paperwork done so you can get home to your hot date.”

It took them over a half hour to log the necessary reports. Paul sent Megan a message to let her know he’d be late, and she responded with a quick,
I’ll be waiting
. For some reason, Paul was expecting her to be agitated. She’d made plans, and his job was getting in the way. 

Paul pulled up in front of his home at five forty-two. He was twenty-two minutes late.

Megan was coming down the stairs when he strolled through the door. “Hey. You’re home.”

She was dressed in a deep red dress that cut off around mid-thigh. It was fitted, and left very little to the imagination. He felt his lower half react almost instantly. 

“You look amazing.”

The smile that graced her features only made her more beautiful. She walked over to him, and gave him a soft, lingering kiss. “Thank you.”

Seeing her like this made it easy to forget they had plans—plans that didn’t include him ripping that dress off her. Paul had to remind himself that there would be time for that later. “Just let me go upstairs and change. Then we can go.”

Megan showed no signs of being in a hurry. “Don’t you want to shower? I don’t mind waiting if you do.”

“Yeah, I would. Are you sure you don’t mind?” he asked.

She gave him another chaste kiss, and then walked over to the other side of the kitchen. “Not at all. We’ve got time.”

“I’ll be quick.” Before he could be tempted any further, Paul raced up the stairs to his room. 

It didn’t take him long to shed his work clothes and hop in the shower. He did take some extra time shaving to make sure he didn’t miss any unwanted hair. It was strange how much he felt like a teenager again. When you’re with someone for so many years, you fall into a routine. They know you. You know them. The mystery fades. What’s left is a level of companionship that can stand up to whatever the world throws at you. He missed that. But what he also found he missed was this—this edge of excitement, the unknown possibilities. 

Finished grooming, Paul went to his closet to find something to wear. He opted for a dark gray dress shirt and a pair of light gray slacks. Paul debated on adding a tie, but decided against it. If they were going dancing, he wanted to be comfortable. 

When he walked back downstairs, Megan whistled.

He laughed. “Thanks. Are you ready to go?”

“Yep. Ready when you are.”

Paul offered her his arm. He led her to his car and opened the door for her. She pecked him on the cheek and then slid inside.

Once he was behind the wheel, Paul turned on the engine, and began backing out of the driveway. “Where to?”

She gave him directions, and they ended up about a twenty minutes from his house at a little Japanese restaurant. After waiting in the lobby about fifteen minutes, they were escorted to their table and given menus. It had been a while since Paul had been to a place like this. Having a small child often meant steering restaurant selections to places that served more kid-friendly items. He didn’t see many of those items on this restaurant’s menu. 

“I thought this would be good. Different,” she said.

He looked up at her and nodded. “I don’t see many things on here Chloe would be thrilled about.”

Megan chuckled. “I know. Could you imagine how she’d react to sushi?”

Paul snorted. “We’d probably draw a lot of unwanted attention.”

The server came to take their drink orders. They decided to order some sushi as well for an appetizer. Paul had never had it before, but Megan said she loved it when it was done right. He was willing to give it a try.

“How in the world did you go through thirty-six years of life and not eat sushi?” Megan asked as their food started to arrive. 

He shrugged. “Never had it growing up, and once I was an adult, the opportunity never presented itself, I guess.”

She picked up one of the pieces of sushi and held it up to him. “It’s tuna.”

Paul opened his mouth and bit into the raw tuna and rice.

Megan waited for several seconds while he chewed. “What do you think?”

“It’s different. Not bad. Just different.”

Before she popped the remaining bit of tuna into her mouth, she pointed to the butterflied shrimp. “Give that one a try. If you like steamed shrimp, you’ll like that one.”

He did as instructed, and she was right. It was very similar to steamed shrimp, which he’d eaten numerous times at parties, dipped in cocktail sauce. 

They finished off the sushi Megan ordered—some he liked more than others. The best part, though, was when she wanted him to try a new one and would feed it to him. He wasn’t sure why he found that appealing, but he did. Maybe it was how her face lit up, or how she’d bounce slightly in her seat as she waited for his reaction.

By the end of dinner, Paul had to admit he was enjoying himself. The food was good and the company was even better. He and Megan had always been able to talk. Paul had feared that maybe changing the parameters of their relationship would alter that, but thus far, it hadn’t. If anything, it had opened the conversation up more.

“You ready to go dancing, old man?” Megan teased as they ambled out of the restaurant. 

He pulled her against him, and walked her backward until she was pressed against the cool metal of the car. At first their age difference had truly concerned him, but the more they were together, the more he realized that it wasn’t an issue. Not for her and not for him. 

“I’ll show you old,” he whispered a moment before his lips crashed over hers. 

By the time they broke apart, they were both panting. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for her to retract her original statement.

Instead, Megan sidestepped him, running her palm over his crotch as she moved to the passenger side of the vehicle. “It’s a good start. Let’s see how you do on the dance floor.”

Chapter 22

Paul was still shaking his head as he steered his car toward the club.

“You all right over there? Something wrong with your head?” Megan asked.

“My head is fine, you vixen. Other parts of my body—well, I’m not so sure.”

She laughed. “You’ll be fine. Besides, we’re just warming up for later.”

“Is that so?”

Before he could say anything else, his cell phone rang. It was after seven thirty, which meant it was most likely Chloe. He hadn’t told his daughter, or Cindy, of his date with Megan. No one knew except his partner. It was easier that way.

“Can you answer it and put it on speaker since I’m driving?” he asked.

Megan reached for the phone and hit the necessary buttons. She propped her elbow on the center console, and held the phone up where it would pick up his voice. “Hello, sweetpea.”

His daughter’s voice resonated in the close confines of the car. “Hi, Daddy.”

The conversation lasted for several minutes as Paul weaved through Friday night traffic. Megan sat stoically silent in the passenger seat, holding his phone. He saw her smile a couple of times as Chloe talked, but she kept her comments to herself. 

When Chloe was finished, she passed the phone over to Cindy as per usual. Paul had told his mother-in-law that he most likely wouldn’t be home when it was time for Chloe to call, so to phone his cell instead. Cindy hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t gone into detail as to why. 

“How are things?” Cindy asked.

He glanced over at Megan. She was busying herself looking out the window at the passing buildings.

Paul came up to a traffic light and made a left before answering. “Things are good here. Work is keeping me busy.”

She paused. “And how’s Megan?”

Megan glanced over and met his gaze. “She’s good, too.”

“Paul, please tell me you aren’t fooling around . . . with that girl.” Cindy lowered her voice for the last part, presumably to keep Chloe from overhearing.

He watched as Megan’s eyes widened in shock at the obvious disapproval. “Cindy, my relationship with Megan—whatever it may be—is between me and her. I know you’re concerned, and I appreciate it, but I’m asking you to please butt out.”

Cindy was quiet for longer than was natural. “What if—”

“There will always be what ifs, Cindy.”

He heard sniffling from the other end of the line. “I have to go give Chloe her bath. Good night, Paul. Stay safe.”

“Cindy?”

His question was met with dead air.

Megan lowered the phone and placed it back in the center console where Paul always kept it while driving. “Well, that was interesting.”

“I’m sorry about that. I thought she and I had already had this discussion. I didn’t realize she’d bring it up again.”

“So you knew she disapproved of us?” Megan asked.

Paul glanced over at her. He didn’t like that Megan was frowning. They’d been enjoying themselves. He wanted to see her smiling again, but he figured it was best to get it out in the open. They’d agreed to be honest with each other, after all. “It’s not that she disapproves. She’s worried.”

“About what?”

There was no easy way to say it, so he decided to spit it out. “Chloe. Cindy is afraid that you’ll . . . get bored.”

Megan turned in her seat. “Bored? With what? You? Chloe? Having a place to call home? Someone I can trust won’t walk out on me as soon as things get tough?”

He knew she was upset, and it wasn’t what he wanted. They were supposed to be on a date. Having fun. “Yes. She’s worried about all those things.”

“Are you?” He heard the challenge in her voice.

“Not as much as I used to be.”

Anger turned to hurt. “That means you still are. At least, some part of you is.”

Paul reached out and took hold of one of Megan’s hands. She pulled it out of his reach. 

Frustrated because driving limited his actions, he found the closest parking spot, and pulled over. Once his hands and attention were free, he released both their seat belts, and reached for her. 

She resisted a little, but after he persisted, she allowed him to pull her into his arms. It was awkward, given they were in his car, but he had to do something. Ten minutes ago, they had been laughing and teasing, and then one phone call with his mother-in-law and her feelings were hurt.

“I’m sorry. Cindy didn’t say those things to hurt you,” he whispered.

Megan shook her head against his shoulder. “I don’t care about what Cindy says or thinks. I care about what you think—how you feel.”

He sighed. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t have doubts. I do. But every day we’re together, they get quieter. I’m starting to believe this can work.”

She sat up so that he could see her face. “Really? You’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”

Paul brushed the hair away from her face. “Really.”

A second later, Megan’s lips were covering his, and her tongue was inside his mouth. He kissed her soundly for several minutes, and then forced them apart. They were both breathing hard again, and the semi-erection he’d been sporting since the restaurant was tenting his pants.

“We should get going.” He had no idea how he managed to get the words out or sound so rational.

Megan licked her lips and lowered herself back into her seat. She was smiling once more.

When he continued to sit there, she smirked, and ran her hand from his knee to his thigh. “Were you planning to get to the club at some point tonight, or did you want to go straight home?”

He removed her hand to a safe distance and took a deep breath. “Behave.”

She pouted. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Paul laughed and started driving again. “You don’t make it easy, you know.”

“Easy is boring.”

It was his turn to frown.

“Oh, stop looking like that. You are anything but easy, and neither am I. We both have baggage out the wazoo.”

Megan was right. He was still dealing with the loss of his wife, and she had a rocky past that tainted her outlook on life and relationships. “I think we’re doing pretty good so far. Don’t you?”

She didn’t answer right away, but he felt her gaze on him. “Yeah, I do.”

Paul laced their fingers together, and brought the back of her hand up to press against his lips. “Good. Now, where exactly is this club?”

Megan was trying her best to let what Cindy said roll off her back, but it was nagging at her. Was Paul right? Was Cindy only worried about Chloe? Or was it more than that?