After We Fall (7 page)

His knowing gaze bounces from me to the woman standing beside me. Well, she would be standing beside me, if she didn't maintain a distance of four feet between us. I'll take what I can get from her, and since it's not her back while she's walking away, I consider myself a very lucky man.

Evangeline smiles and my breath almost leaves me. Amazing how she can do that. “Nice to meet you, Domingo.”

“Senorita, how may I help you today?” he asks.

“Two tacos with chips and cheese, and a drink, please,” she says.

“A woman who knows what she wants—love it!” He turns to me, a playful frown on his face. “And you, Officer? What can this lowly cook prepare to avoid getting thrown into the
pinta
?”

I roll my eyes. “Cut it out, Domingo.”

“The usual, then.” It's not a question. I always get the same thing. Four tacos, tortilla chips with cheese, and a side of guacamole. Domingo tallies up our orders and gives me the total.

“Oh, I can pay for mine,” Evangeline says, hastily stepping in front of me.

He waves her away. “I didn't charge you.”

“You sure about that?” I ask, handing over two twenties. Normally, I pay twelve fifteen for my order. Today, it's twenty-four fifty.

Domingo pulls a face. “Charged you double—police
especial.
”

Evangeline giggles and I can feel a smile forcing its way onto my face. “Food's worth it,” I admit.

One of Domingo's assistants hands our orders over to me in a large white bag and gives Evangeline two bottles of water.

We take our food to an empty picnic table. I let Evangeline sit first. Out in the open like this, I don't feel exactly at ease. I can't sit with my back to a wall so I can protect it, but I can sit on the side that allows me the most visibility.

“Mind if I sit here? It's a cop thing—I'm not trying to hit on you,” I explain.

She glances up at me. “Are you sitting on the side that will make you less vulnerable?”

You make me vulnerable. You make me feel things I didn't know were possible. “Yes.”

“Then by all means, sit.” She scoots to the very edge of the bench, leaving me plenty of room to sit. At six four, I'm a big guy, but I'm not that damn big. She doesn't want to feel vulnerable, either.

“Someone blue in your family?” I ask, carefully throwing my leg over the bench.

Her cheeks become the prettiest shade of pink. “No,” she says, ducking her head. “I like watching cop shows.”

Opening the container of tacos, I pick up one. “They don't always get the facts right.”

“I know, but my brother-in-law produces
Behind the Blue,
and he has consultants. According to him, viewers don't always want realistic,” she says before taking a bite of taco. Her eyes close in what I hope is pure bliss while my mind sorts through the information she's giving me. I have no idea who her brother-in-law is, and even if she told me, I wouldn't have a clue. Hollywood has never come calling on me.

“I've watched that one a few times. Tell him he does a good job.” I manage to eat two tacos while she eats half of hers. “Good?”

“The best. I'd almost forgotten how they tasted,” she says softly, then resumes eating.

I swear I could sit here and watch her all night. Her movements are elegant and refined. You can tell that she's had a different kind of upbringing than mine.

“When you go for your walk, stay away from Fifth and Trellis. When I was with Forrestville PD, we had a lot of calls from that area.”

“Duly noted.”

“And once the time changes, you'll need to be out of here before five. There aren't many lights. Developers are trying to keep light pollution at a minimum.” I finish my third taco and start on my fourth. “Where else do you like to go?”

“I mostly stay in this area. Haven't ventured any farther since I don't—well, I
didn't
know what areas to avoid,” she says.

“That's smart.”

Evangeline gives me a pleased smile and her back straightens. “That's a nice compliment, especially coming from a policeman.”

I wonder when the last time was that a man gave her a compliment. In my experience, abusers don't stay content with verbal or physical abuse for very long. They start to mix things up to see how their target responds.

Jake leans his head against my thigh and lets out a contented huff.

“Know how you feel, boy,” I whisper to him.

“I got a job,” Evangeline says.

“That's great.” I mean it. Anything that reeks of normalcy is a plus in my book.

“Saylor said that you mentioned I might be looking for one.”

My neck gets hot, but there's no need to lie to her. “Yeah, she's been looking for help, and from what I know about you, you're someone she can trust with animals.”

She blinks at me. Then that confident smile of hers returns, making me want to be the one behind it. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Wiping my hands, I begin to clean up our trash. “Guess I'll get Jake back home. He has an appointment with Netflix.”

“You're leaving already?” she asks, confusion filling her pretty eyes as she starts helping me.

“Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to. The park's a public place.” I throw our trash away. “And you have at least two more hours of sunlight. Next month is a different story.”

Her forehead wrinkles slightly. “I don't know,” she says slowly as she looks around. “It's almost September and the light's faded a lot since I first got here.”

I choose my next words carefully. “Would you like to walk home with me…and Jake?”

Nodding, Evangeline checks the table one last time before joining us. Although she stays on Jake's side, it feels like I'm back in school, escorting the prom queen.

I make a noise.

“Are you okay?” she asks, peering at me.

“Memories of high school.”

“Those were the days.”

“No college?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Not really. You?”

“I joined the force right out of high school. Lots of training.” I shorten my naturally fast-paced strides so she doesn't have to attempt to keep up with me. Plus, I want to draw out my time with her for as long as possible. The park isn't far from Rose Haven.

“Why?”

“Short answer—wanted to fight the bad guys.”

“And the long answer?” she asks.

“That would require another trip to Domingo's.”

“I…um…okay.”

Holy shit.
She said yes. All right, it was an okay, but it wasn't a no. For a man who is supposed to be trained in expecting the unexpected, I sure as hell didn't see that answer coming. This entire afternoon was a fluke in my mind. I half-expected Evangeline to leave at any moment.

“Same time tomorrow?” I ask, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for her to change her mind.

“As long as I get to play with Jake,” she says as we arrive home. “Thanks again for the tacos.”

“Thanks for the company.” I run my hand around my neck, squeezing tight. “Wasn't sure if I would see you again.” Yeah, I probably shouldn't bring that up, but this woman is a closed book. If I could get a glimpse at the table of contents, that would be more than helpful.

“I was a little rude,” she admits, her gaze on Jake. “But I meant what I said about not wanting to get involved with anyone.”

Well, shit. I know she feels this way, but I would have to be high to expect her to do a one eighty after only one date that wasn't even a date. “I figured as much.”

Her gaze lifts to mine. The raw vulnerability on her face sucker punches me in the gut. “However, I'd really like friends again. All of mine are gone.”

“He took those away from you, too?” The urge to comfort her rides me hard. Gripping Jake's leash tighter, I fist my free hand to keep from touching her. Can't blow this moment with her.

She nods, her mouth trembling like she's about to cry, but she blows out a steady breath instead. I can't help but admire the hell out of her. “He took away
everything
that was important to me.”

It's on the tip of my tongue to assure her that I will never do that to her, but I swallow my words. She needs a friend, I remind myself, and eventually friends can become lovers.

Before I can say anything, Jake gives a sharp bark and pulls hard against his leash, which somehow trips Evangeline. With a squeal, she falls forward, right into me. Wrapping one arm around her, I manage to catch her and get Jake under control.

“Sit,” I say in a deeper than normal voice, the one that I rarely use so that Jake knows he needs to listen to me.

Immediately, Jake's behind hits the ground.

“Good dog.” Purposefully, I lighten my tone. No need to fuss at him now. Besides, he can't help his natural reaction to a squirrel or cat. Most likely it was Saylor's cat—the damn thing escapes her apartment at least once a day.

Evangeline's small hands come between us as her head tips up. The ends of her soft, silky hair brush my skin. She's so damn fragile in my arms, yet she's made of substantial curves. Full breasts press against my chest and I swear to God, it's the best damn feeling. White-hot desire surges and my heart kicks against my chest. Blood rushes in my ears. I've never been more acutely aware of anyone like this before. My cock starts to get hard, and I shift my hips back, not wanting to scare her.

While the case file I read on her indicated that there wasn't any sexual trauma, I can't be sure of her reaction. Besides, even women who have healthy relationships with men wouldn't welcome a woody from a so-called friend.

“Are you okay?” I ask, making no move to let her go. This close to her, I can see that her eyes are more blue than green, like the color of the ocean at Wrightsville Beach.

“Let go of me.” Her voice is strangely tight.

“I didn't mean to touch you, but you were about to fall.”

She visibly swallows and a tremor runs through her body. “I understand, but I need you to let go of me before I scream.”

Damn it. I wish that I didn't have Jake with me right now. Two hands with Evangeline are a hell of a lot better than one. “Can you give me second, angel? I have to make sure you won't fall.”

Her fingers curl into my shirt, pressing so hard that I can feel her nails. “Please.”

Slowly pulling my arm out from behind her, I check the position of Jake's leash and pause. “Evangeline, the leash is behind both of your legs. I need you to lift your right foot. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

With a nod, her leg lifts far off the ground so that I can clear my dog's leash. “Good job. Now the left, and you're done.”

Another tremor and a quick lift frees her from danger. She pulls away from me, her chest heaving as she does. “Thank you.”

“Do you still want to hear my story?”

“I don't know.”

At least she's honest with me. “How about if I see you at the park tomorrow, I'll share with you over tacos. If not, then maybe another time. Either way, Jake will be a happy camper.”

“Okay.”

“Night, Evangeline.” I leave before she does, even while I keep an ear out for her footsteps. While I don't want her to fear me more than she already does, I won't compromise her safety. And to a cop, every situation is potentially dangerous.

When I catch the echo of her steps, I allow Jake to run up the porch steps. Once I open the door, I unhook the leash and let him go. He bounds up the stairs and stops at the top, waiting for me.

“You don't have to hold the door for me,” Evangeline says, and I turn. She's sitting on the bottom step.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

She bows her head, exposing the slender lines of her neck. “Not yet, but I'm getting there.”

“You'll get there. If my mom could, then anyone can,” I say.

Jerking around, she stares at me, her lips parted. “Your mom?”

“Yeah,” I say gruffly. “She's part of the reason why I became a cop.”

“Was she like me?”

I know what she's asking, but I need her to come to the park tomorrow. I'm almost one hundred percent certain that if I spill all my secrets to her now, she won't bother. Yeah, it's selfish of me, but I don't give a damn.

Yet, I can't play head games with her, either.

“A little.”

Her gaze runs over me. “Night, Hunter.”

Without replying, I let the door shut behind me and jog up the stairs. It's all I can do to keep my focus off her. I scratch behind one of Jake's ears. “Good boy.”

As I stride down the hallway, Jake trots alongside me. On the one hand I feel like this afternoon with Evangeline was a step in the right direction, but on the other, her reaction to being grabbed by me, even to keep her from getting hurt, felt like a million steps back. None of it is her fault, and that's not something I'm struggling with.

What I am struggling with—this driving desire to have her in my life.

I avoid the dog park, and basically the entire park in general, for the next week. Working at the animal shelter helps keep me busy and my mind off things.
Him.
Well, mostly, but I haven't been on any walks this week, either. Call me a coward, but I don't care.

Besides, I'm not afraid of Hunter.

Actually, I'm terrified by my reaction to him, by how disturbingly
nice
it was to be held like that. For a man's hand to protect instead of hurt. A strong arm to prevent me from falling instead of holding me down.

Who am I kidding? Being held by Hunter was more than nice, more than great…quite simply it was exquisite. For a brief moment, I felt normal, safe, and protected. For a brief moment, I was a woman being held by a man.

Until I wasn't. Until all I could feel was Penn's hand, Penn's arm keeping me prisoner while he corrected my behavior, my forgetfulness…or my breathing too loudly.

Memories threaten to rise, but I swallow them down, along with another glass of wine.

“Yoga pants, wine, and
Sweet Home Alabama
on Netflix. What more could a girl ask for?” I mutter before grabbing a handful of chocolate-covered almonds and scarfing them down.

Today the rest of the furniture I ordered was delivered and assembled. No more sleeping on an air mattress. No more eating over the kitchen sink. No more sitting in a beanbag chair to watch television. Now I'm the proud owner of a sofa, loveseat, bed, kitchen table and chairs, along with end tables. Best of all, I picked out everything myself without anyone else's input.

Adulting is fun!

There's a loud crash and I start. The familiar beeping sound of a large truck backing up reminds me that it's trash day. Slumping deeper into the cushions, I shove more chocolate-covered almonds into my mouth.

Adulting sucks when you're a single woman without a…crew, entourage? Squad? I can't keep up with the latest term for “group of friends.” I don't even have enough friends to form a triangle.

Gah.
I'm lame.

Yet, I'm dying for them. Worse, I admitted it to Hunter, of all people, and practically begged him to be one. I hate the way Penn made me resent being vulnerable. I hate the way I'm scared of opening up to people, of letting them in and attempting to have a life.

Most of all, I hate not knowing who I am now.

Placing my wineglass down on a coaster on the coffee table, I pick up the remote and turn off the television. It's really hard to get into second-chances-at-love stories when I have no desire to ever get back together with mine.

My sister is a famous romantic suspense writer. Her books have been made into movies, and she's even married to an honest-to-goodness movie star. Best of all, he loves her, worships the ground she walks on, and basically will move heaven and earth to make her happy. Don't get me started on my brothers—all four of them. Each one is married to the love of their life. Not only that, they're protective of them. Respectful. Encouraging. All the things I assumed I was getting with Penn.

Now I know better. I know that's the kind of love I won't ever find—if I ever want to attempt to find it again.

Besides, my standards are simultaneously high and low, which makes them unattainable. High—the guy will be utter perfection. Low—doesn't hit or call me nasty names.

In other words, I want a man who doesn't exist.

Monday morning shows up without my permission, but another day spent at the animal shelter is another day without completely feeling like a loser.

“You're doing a good job here,” Saylor says as we walk to the parking lot. “But you don't seem very happy today.”

“I'm not very happy today, but it has nothing to do with work,” I mutter, glancing at her.

Her dark brown eyes are sympathetic. “You're not happy with who they picked for the next
Dancing with the Stars
cast, either.”

Her reply makes me pause. Trust Saylor to take away my true worries. “That was announced this weekend?” I ask, and she nods. “I'll have to check it out when I get home.”

“When the season starts, we'll totally have to have a viewing night each week.” She lightly punches me on the shoulder, and it's all I can do not to flinch or want to fight back. “Popcorn, chocolate, bacon-topped items, and we can totally invite Hunter to watch, too.”

The mention of Hunter makes my heart skip a beat. Or two thousand. “He's a fan?”

“Not as much as we are, but I once heard him and his partner, Dwight, discussing the costumes,” she replies.

“Sure they weren't discussing the lack of material for the costumes?” I ask drily.

Saylor snort-giggles. “I'm sure they were, but that's a start. We can reel Hunter in with talk of costumes, and then—”

“I'm not interested in Hunter.”

“Why not?” Her brow creases. “He's very handsome, courteous, and kind, and he helps old ladies cross the street.”

“Then you date him.” The thought of Saylor and Hunter together makes me uncomfortable.

“Not into cops,” she says cheerfully.

“What's wrong with cops?”

“Nothing at all. I'm very thankful for what they do for us.” She gives me a smile. It's true and genuine. It's also confusing as anything.

“I'm not following,” I say.

She sighs. “Fine. You twisted it out of me. Hunter and I went out on a date once.”

Oh, my Lord. “You did?” I practically croak.

“Yeah, but the two of us are not meant to be together. No attraction.”

No attraction? Is she insane? Sexual attractiveness practically oozes from his pores. Even
I
notice how attractive he is. “Oh,” I reply lamely.

“We even did the guy hug thing after the date was over. Totally didn't ruin anything for us as friends”—she glances up—“kinda sorta friends. Anyway, nothing happened except for dinner and a movie. Which is why I think the two of you would be perfect for each other,” Saylor adds. “I saw the two of you eating Domingo's tacos last week—and oh, no! Is that why you don't want him to come? You're not attracted to him, either?” she shakes her head. “Bless his heart.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “Oh my gosh,
no.
”

“You
are
attracted to him, or you don't want me to bless his heart?” she asks, all innocence lacing her tone.

Aggravated almost to the point of no return, I am this close to blessing the woman out, but then I see the gleam of mischief in her eye. “You are unbelievable.”

She dissolves into laughter. “The look on your face was too cute, Evangeline. I couldn't resist teasing you.”

Mouth agape, I stare at her for a half second. “You and Hunter didn't go out?”

“Nope!” Lacing her arm through mine, she pulls me the rest of the way to my car. “The only time we've ever had dinner together was when the management company hosted a pig pickin' and invited everyone at Rose Haven. We sat at the same table.”

“Then you do think he's attractive?”

“Uh, yeah. I'm not blind. Hunter is Thor hot.” She cants her head side to side. “But without the blond hair, Nordic background, or hammer.”

“I wouldn't go that far.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're such a liar.”

I scuff my shoes on the asphalt of the parking lot. “Maybe I think he's Thor hot, too. But, I'm not interested in anything.”

“Seemed to me that he's very interested in you while y'all hang out at the dog park.”

“It was nice,” I admit. “Nothing more.”

Saylor gives me a beatific smile. “Nice can always turn into more…if you're willing to let it.”

I look her right in the eye. “The last time I was willing to let nice turn into more, it turned into hell on earth.”

“All the more reason to allow Hunter to show you heaven on earth.”

I pull away, fully frustrated with her, with myself, and with the entire world. “I get that everyone around here thinks he's a superhero, but I can't…I just
can't,
okay?”

Saylor nods, her teasing mood gone. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories for you.”

“That's the problem,” I shout. “No one has to bring up bad memories for me. They're just there.” Hot shame floods my veins. I unlock my car door, get in, and drive away without saying goodbye, hoping that the ride home will calm me.

While I know I need to apologize to Saylor, I'm too freaking embarrassed by my outburst. Tomorrow, I'll make it up to her by being the one to invite her to lunch.

I drive home in complete silence, punishing myself by keeping the radio off. The quietness makes me think about things again, about Hunter and Saylor—two people who are trying, for reasons God only knows, to be in my life while I hold them at arm's length.

The only way you'll learn to trust yourself again is by attempting to do the things that terrify you.

Piper is right, but I can't seem to make myself attempt anything other than a new job and lunch with Saylor. Early dinner with Piper. Tacos with Hunter. Short bursts of time spent with people who want to get to know me. Out of those three people, Hunter terrifies me the most, and not because I think he'll hurt me. Sure, he
could
hurt me, but I'd like to think I know the signs now. I know what to look for.

Hunter's eyes are kind, his smile is genuine, and he likes to tease me. His dog, Jake, obviously loves him.

“I'm so damn tired of being scared,” I mutter.

As I pull into my parking space at Rose Haven, my phone rings. Without checking the screen, I answer it.

“Hello?”

“Eva, so nice to hear your voice.”

Goosebumps break out all over my body. A wave of icy terror washes over me.

“What do you want? More important, how did you get this number?” I ask, my voice quivering. I hate what Penn does to me. I hate this cowering, shivering creature I turn into.

“Fuck, Eva. Calm down. I'm only calling to apologize.”

“You're not forgiven. So fuck off.”

“Aren't you a fierce little tiger,” he says with an easy laugh, reminding me of the man I first met. “In any case, my therapist says that apologizing to you is one of the steps to becoming a new man. Culling toxic people out of my life can only do good.”

“I'm not toxic.” Why am I arguing with him? Why am I still talking to him at all? “Don't call me again.”

“You will stay on this fucking phone until I say otherwise,” he growls.

To my horror, I find myself obeying his command.

“Hurry up,” I tell him. My feeble attempt to take back control only makes him laugh.

“You will forgive me, Eva. You have to—it's your Christian duty.”

“Maybe one day I'll be able to, but that's not today, and don't throw something in my face that you think is bull.” My free hand tightens around the steering wheel. “I don't know what kind of lies you're filling your therapist's notebook with, but when you go back to prison to finish serving your time—”

“That's not going to happen. I served my time, like a good boy, and was given permission to travel to the West Indies. I'm getting court-ordered help at the Peaceful Mind and Body Institute.”

Of course he wasn't going to serve more time, and of course he's at a luxury resort that masquerades as a therapy center.

I bite my lip to keep from screaming, but hot tears spill over my lashes and onto my cheeks. “Just say what you have to say, Penn.”

“Believe me, you little bitch, I will. First, you are a whore who slept around on me. That made me mad, and I couldn't help but lash out at you. But that was wrong of me. You couldn't help your whorish ways. Or the way you refused to—”

It starts to rain, fat drops landing on the windows. I concentrate on them, on the path they take as they travel down my windshield, instead of the man who promised to love and cherish me, but instead made my life a hellish nightmare.

“You didn't love me like I deserved. You didn't support me. You knew my triggers, yet you pushed them over and over, which in turn made me into this monster that even I was scared of. I forgive you for that.” He exhales, and the sound of another person talking fills the background. “Fuck, I feel so much better now. Thank you, Evangeline, for listening to me.”

He ends the call.

Like a robot, I scroll through my contact list.

My hands shake as I wait for my lawyer to answer. Every so often I sniff and fresh tears threaten to fall, but I refuse to give in.

“McBeal and Associates.”

“This is Evangeline Amb—McCarthy,” I begin, giving her my married name. Since it's still legally mine until the divorce, I have to use it for court documents and other procedures. “May I speak with Lucy, please?”

“Of course, Mrs. McCarthy.”

How in the world am I supposed to have a normal relationship with anyone? How am I supposed to have peace when my soon-to-be ex-husband calls me? When my soon-to-be former in-laws give him my number? It had to be them.

“Evangeline, is everything okay?”

“Penn called me. I don't know how he got my number,” I say in a rush.

She makes a small noise. I remember she once told me that she likes going up against assholes from rich families who think they are above the law. Penn's family is no different. They have more money than God and less common sense than He gave rocks.

“I'll be sure to speak with Mr. McCarthy's lawyers about this. There's a restraining order in place for a reason. And I hate to say it, but I also think we should extend it to social media as well. In the meantime, change your number and stop by my office to let my secretary update your personal file.”

Why should I?
I want to argue.
Why should I have to change anything so that asshole doesn't call me?