A Case of the Heart (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen

After three stops at two different stores, because she forgot a spice the first time around at the first store and the second one didn’t have it, she finally had everything she needed to make Mom’s lasagna. The only problem was it was six-thirty and it would take more than an hour, at least, to get everything on the table.

She walked in the side door that led into the kitchen and laid the groceries on the counter. She actually enjoyed cooking when she had the time and for special occasions such as this.

Her kitchen was convenient to cook in now that it had been remodeled. She had removed the age-old wallpaper, replacing it with textured, mushroom colored walls. A friend of a friend, who owned a remodeling store, got her a deal to reface her cabinets in a rustic lightwood with brushed silver handles. The stainless steel appliances complimented the room with the earth tones in the rest of the kitchen.

She stopped admiring the room and started using it. She dug in and got busy beginning with the sauce, losing herself in time.

As the sauce simmered, Liz decided to spend some time with the Lord.

She headed to the bedroom and sank onto her down comforter, reaching for the devotional she kept on her bedside table.

Feel that, trust Me. Am I not leading you safely, faithfully? Will you believe Me, your Master, that all this is really to bring the answer to your prayers? Remember I am God, who knows all and can control all. Directly you put your affairs, confusion, and difficulties into My hands so I begin to affect a cure of all the disharmony and disorder. I will do all as tenderly as possible. Tell Me that you trust Me in this.

The devotional had been exactly what she needed to hear. Her thoughts wandered back to Alex and everything they had been through together in the last few days. She felt vulnerable knowing her feelings were growing for him.

She pictured his face filled with concern after both incidents. She knew he had feelings for her, but what they were exactly she didn’t know. Maybe a certain obligation because they worked so closely together, or pity. Oh, what if he felt sorry for her?

Liz held a hand to her head and closed her eyes, then slapped her devotional down on the nightstand. He was on his way; now was a little to late to remember why she had quit dating.

The doorbell rang right at seven. The noodles were boiling, the sauce simmering and she had the rolls ready to put in the oven. The salad ingredients were all on the counter unopened. She figured three out of four wasn’t bad. She’d just feed him extra lasagna if he was really hungry.

Grabbing a kitchen towel on her way to the door she wiped the sweat off her face and the sauce from her hands, but not in that order.

She’d never seen Alex out of uniform before and sucked in air when she saw him. He wore a dark brown, cotton T-shirt that molded to his chest, showing every ab in the six-pack. Denim jeans showcased formed thighs, and his trim waist was banded with a leather belt that matched his black Doc Martins. Dark locks were slightly slicked back, framing his face, and what a face. She could have sworn she heard music.

Liz could only imagine what he must be thinking of her old, stretched out, faded jeans a UNL sweatshirt and barefoot. She had been so into cooking she hadn’t had time to change. But he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes sparkled as his lips slowly curved, showing off his dimple. She relished the moment until she noticed him studying her face.

He lifted his fingers to her chin, moving her head to the side. He chuckled and took the towel that she had thrown over her shoulder. He wiped some sauce from her cheek...chin...and forehead.

“Guess you misplaced a little sauce.”

He finished cleaning her face and brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you cook often?” He took a step inside.

Liz had been so enamored she forgot to let him in. She quickly stepped aside. “Not my mom’s lasagna. First time actually.”

He took her hand, turning her to face him. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Liz stood staring, lost in his eyes for a brief moment and then caught the smell of something burning.

“My sauce!”

She turned and ran into the kitchen and pulled the stainless steel saucepan off the stove without grabbing the pot holder.

“Ouch!” The saucepan went flying onto the counter, sauce splattering everywhere.

Alex rushed in and grabbed her by the arm. He turned on the faucet and held her hand under the cold water. She sighed as the cool liquid washed over her burn. Liz felt like crying but when she looked up at Alex a bubble of laughter crept out instead.

He chuckled a little too. “How’s your hand? Does it still burn?”

“It’s better.” She turned around and inspected the counter where she flung the pan full of sauce. “But my sauce isn’t looking too good.”

He wrapped her hand in a towel, opened the freezer and took out a bag of frozen peas. He placed them in her wrapped hand and leaned closer to her. She felt the firm press of his hand at her waist. Soap with a hint of musk teased her nostrils, and his warm breath fanned her face.

She had promised herself not to let things get to this point, but now cuddled next to him it felt so natural to be where they were.

With gentle fingers he traced along her cheek. The need for self-protection took over and she pulled back feeling empty. She dared herself to look into his eyes. They were still and set on hers. He nodded and looked away.

“Thanks for the peas.” Her voice was only a whisper.

He smiled as he gazed at the sack in her palm.

She walked over to inspect what was left of the sauce. He followed and stood behind her.

“Got any Ragu?”

She chuckled and drew in a ragged breath. “I worked hard on that sauce. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

He swiped some off the counter with his finger and put it to his mouth. “Good stuff, too bad. It would have been great with that lasagna.”

“Yeah, it would. That’s the best part of the whole dish.”

He scanned the room and spotted the vegetables waiting to be prepared. “I’ll get started on the salad and help you with the lasagna, since you’re injured.”

“Thanks, but I can finish it. I’m sort of on a family quest.”

She salvaged what was left of the sauce and they finished making dinner.

For once she wanted to talk about something other than work. “Where did you go to college?”

“I got a partial scholarship to John Jay College in Chicago. Nothing much interested me other than criminal justice. My dad told me he’d pay for room and board if I took advantage of the scholarship. I figured I’d stick to what I knew and take him up on it. He was a police officer for over twenty-five years.”

“So you followed in your father’s footsteps?”

He nodded. “So did all my brothers.”

“How many do you have?”

“I’m one of six siblings, four boys and two girls.”

Liz shot up her brows and leaned forward in interest. Funny how she never thought to ask about his family before now. “So what are their names?”

He pulled two plates from the cabinet. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

He flipped a plate in the air each time he said a name and caught it.

“In birth order...Barbara Dena.” Toss.

“Colin Eugene.” Toss, a clink sounded as his ring hit the plate.

“Alyssa Delia.” Toss and almost dropped.

“Whoa! Damon George.” Toss.

“Christopher Dion.”

Liz clapped her hands together and laughed, enjoying the entertainment. “I’m glad I don’t have any china. So you’re the baby of the family?”

“Yes, and don’t give me the psychoanalysis of that, please. I was a surprise. My folks thought they were done having kids. That’s why they moved. I’m the only one born in Denver.”

“And what’s you’re middle name?”

He shot her a look. “If I would have wanted you to know, I would have told you.” He walked over to the table and set the plates down.

“There is no way you are getting out of this, so just get it over with.” She shoved her fists on her hips and gave him an unblinking stare.

He sighed. “Alexander Cornelius,” he mumbled under his breath, looking away.

She held her hand to her mouth, holding back a snicker. The name Cornelius would just kill a guy like Alex. “Oh, that’s nice.”

He turned his head toward her, silently daring her to continue. “No, it’s not. End of subject.”

They placed the last items on the table and stood back to inspect their culinary art.

Alex turned to her in question. “Candles?”

“Candles?”

He grinned. “Yeah, do you have any?”

She never figured him for a romantic. But she was more than happy to oblige. She placed two crystal candleholders on the table and lit them. They were her grandmother’s and she never got them out, worried they would get broken, but this was a special occasion.

They sat down and Liz automatically bowed her head.

“Do you mind sharing that prayer?”

She’d never heard hesitancy in his voice like she just had and appreciated his humble tone. She lifted her head, and gave him a soft smile, then said grace.

“I’m glad to know you like hearing prayers even if you don’t feel comfortable praying.”

He reached for the bread and offered some to Liz. “I’m making some amends.”

Liz thought for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing as so many words came to mind. “Maybe you just need to
talk
to Him and not worry about the ‘praying’ word.”

He nodded. “I can appreciate that. Makes it feel a little less formal.”

Liz smiled as the sparks of faith ignited for him and hoped they would turn into flames.

The well-earned dinner was enjoyable despite the mishaps. Making the meal together was more fun, and he seemed to enjoy helping.

The bright glow from the candlelight outlined his profile that she admired briefly before he noticed her gaze. Long, dark lashes hooded large eyes and his whiskers intensified his olive colored skin.

“Your turn,” he said taking a sip of his soda. “I know you grew up in Nebraska and went to UNL. You have a brother and sister right?”

“Yeah, I’m the baby too.”

“Really?” He scrunched up his face.

“What?”

“That makes us incompatible according to all you sociological, analytical people.”

“Do you think we’re incompatible?” she asked before realizing the depth that question could take.

He shook his head. “No, do you?”

She took a moment to respond. “I guess we’ll find out.”

He caught her eyes and captured her with them. He released their gaze and continued to quiz her as only a cop could do. “So how did you end up in Denver?”

“I grew up visiting Colorado as a kid and always loved the skiing in the winter and hiking in the mountains in the summer. After I graduated, I ended a relationship with a guy I met in college and headed west.”

“Why did you go into social work?”

“Because I wanted to help people, make a difference, same as you.”

He nodded. “All my brothers and I are cops. I’d like to say it was because we did it to help people, but even more so I think we did it because of my dad. You, on the other hand, I believe are a true social worker in every sense of the word.”

“What a nice compliment. Some cops don’t feel that way, like Dixon.”

He lifted his head abruptly and she continued.

“There are plenty of cops that feel the way he does. That our procedures just get in the way and add more time and paperwork to your workload.”

“Yeah, but those with that attitude have it with every aspect of their job. They feel the power the law gives them and abuse it.” He paused. “We’re talking about work again.”

They finished eating and did the dishes. Since she was one handed and he was letting her milk it for all it was worth, she did most of the talking while he loaded the washer.

“I talked with my mother today. I didn’t call her about tonight, I called her about the sauce, the recipe.”
Lovely, Liz. Way to ramble.

He scrunched his eyebrows together as if confused but his eyes twinkled.

“She asked about Christmas and invited you, so you can come if you want to.” She took a deep breath.

He was quiet for a moment. Doubt assaulted her so she rushed on. “I only told you in case she called tonight and she started pressuring you. She doesn’t mean to but it might come off that way.

He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t feel pressured.”

“Good, you do whatever you want to. I know how families can be around the holidays.”

He looked her in the eyes. “What do you want?”

The question caught her off guard. The phone rang breaking the stare between them. Liz took a step away and answered.

“Yes, he’s here. The sauce...it turned out great.” She turned to him and shrugged.