Beneath the Badge (First Responders) (11 page)

“Of course we can. Do you want to go back to my place?”

His eyes met hers. “Do you have whiskey?”

She gave a half-smile. “I have vodka. Will that do?”

He gave a short nod. “I’ll follow you.”

She turned to go back to her car but he caught her hand. She turned back, their fingers linked between them, while her heart did a queer jump against her ribs. He’d called her the answer to a prayer. Could it really be that simple?

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Anytime,” she replied, the answer light but their eyes clung together and something shifted and changed and moved a place deep inside that she hadn’t known even existed. What she felt for Matt was more than attraction. More than empathy for what he’d been through.

She rather suspected it was love.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers, not wanting to let go but knowing she had to so they could go somewhere more private. She slid her hand out of his and bit down on her lip.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promised.

She watched him stride away, her big tough cop who made her feel all the things she’d shut down years ago. But as she watched him straighten his shoulders she understood that in addition to the bad he also reminded her that there were good things that she’d closed herself away from. Things like love and sharing. How good it felt to give rather than just exist. Up until now she’d reserved that part of herself for her job and the furry kind of love that never let her down. It wasn’t enough anymore.

She wanted everything.

Chapter Eight

She pulled in the driveway first and he was right behind her. There was an awkward moment when they first went inside and were enveloped in silence. Lindsay turned around and nervously tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. It was a strange thing, realizing you were in love with someone and not quite knowing where to go next. It was definitely unchartered territory.

Moment to moment was probably the best plan when all was said and done.

“Let’s get you out of this heavy stuff,” she said quietly. She reached out and unhooked his belt. It was surprisingly heavy in her hands. She stood for a moment, wondering where to put it, then decided the kitchen was as good as any. It was close to the vodka, after all.

She put it down on an empty counter. Matt had taken off his cap and he placed it carefully beside the belt. Lindsay reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning it. He halted her progress, putting his hand over hers and she looked up. “Just to get your vest off,” she murmured. “You might want to lose the boots too.”

He let her slide the shirt over his shoulders and it gaped at his waist, still tucked in at the back. He undid the vest then, pulled it off and put it on top of the other gear. She had the random thought that it must be incredibly hot in the summer to wear all that stuff. She had to admit it turned her on more than a little. She was a fully capable, grown woman. But the idea of having this man as a protector was hot as hell.

“What do you need?” she asked softly, her hand pressed against the warm material of his T-shirt.

He pulled out the tails of his dress shirt and draped the material over a chair. “I wouldn’t say no to that drink.”

Wordlessly, she went to the cupboard and took out a bottle, then to the fridge for a can of tonic water. She poured a healthy shot into a glass and topped it up with the tonic as he removed his boots. When she handed the drink to him she offered a wry smile. “I didn’t think straight up would be the wisest choice.”

“You’re probably right,” he conceded. He took a healthy gulp of the liquid and she saw his eyes widen slightly. She hadn’t been stingy. “That’s good,” he said, letting out a breath. She saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“Have you eaten today?”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Hah,” she said, sending a pointed look at his glass. “I know I mixed it with tonic, but vodka on an empty and stressed stomach is not a good idea.” Inspiration struck and she smiled. “I’m going to fix the ultimate comfort food and it’ll only take five minutes, tops.”

He sat at the table nursing his drink as she banged around the kitchen, relieved to have something to do with her hands. Mr. Boots put in a rare appearance, giving Matt a wide berth but jumping up on his cat tree, curling into a ball on one carpeted shelf. Lindsay glanced over at Matt. The tension rippling off him was crazy and he needed to decompress before they talked about anything. She took out bread, butter and cheese and set about building them grilled-cheese sandwiches.

In no time at all, she turned the first golden sandwich onto a plate. “The secret is using real butter and then good cheese. I like sharp cheddar for taste, but then add a thin shave of mozzarella for stringiness. Guaranteed to cure what ails you.”

It was a glib statement and one not meant too seriously. If grilled cheese could fix all that ailed the world, men like Matt would be out of a job.

She fried her own while Matt bit into his. When hers was up she looked and his plate was empty. “You want another?”

“Do you mind? I didn’t eat lunch and didn’t feel like eating…you know. After.”

“Of course I don’t mind. It’s grilled cheese, not
coq au vin
.”

She slid it on his plate and built a third for herself. When she sat down at the table, she offered him a smile. “I find that everything seems worse on an empty stomach. Feeling any better?”

“Actually, yeah. A little. Thanks.”

She was halfway through her sandwich when he reached over and took her hand. “I’m glad you showed up. I didn’t really know what I was going to do with myself tonight.”

“I figured you’d either go home and bust open that heavy bag, or end up at Jake’s staring at the bottom of a glass. I didn’t want either of those to happen.”

“You’re probably not far off.” His eyes took on a faraway look.

“Are you really okay?” she asked, searching his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He turned his head and looked out the window. “I don’t know.”

“Does it hurt too much? I mean, I’m sure it brought back memories of what happened with Helen, and—”

His head snapped back and he pinned her with a sharp gaze. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved. Emotions are messy, remember?”

She swallowed thickly. He was right. And she shouldn’t have brought up Helen’s name. It was clearly such a source of pain for him. She should have eased into it more. But he’d seemed more relaxed. More on an even keel.

A little voice in her head reminded her that instability could be like that. Fine one moment and angry and sad the next. But that wasn’t Matt, she argued back. It was different with him.

Wasn’t it?

“I was afraid,” she replied in a small voice.

“Afraid of what? That I’d expect you to fix me every time I was broken? News flash, Lindsay. I’m already broken.”

Oh, there was so much pain in his voice underlying the bitterness. There was also acknowledgment.

“I’m afraid of everything you make me feel.” She eyeballed his empty glass and considered fixing her own drink simply for fortification but then dismissed the idea. If they were going to deal with this they were going to do it without crutches or vices and with clear heads. Matt had already finished his and hadn’t asked for another. That was probably a good thing.

“Feel?” He frowned. “I get why you walked away, I really do. It’s a lot to ask of someone. Hell, I know I’m messed up. Which is why it’s so confusing that you showed up the other night with pizza and then again today. You don’t want any part of this, remember?”

She twisted her fingers together. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I said, and if I had a choice I’d avoid all sort of messy baggage altogether. But I don’t have a choice, Matt. I’m in now.”

“What do you mean, you’re in?”

Her pulse beat a nervous tattoo as she took a breath. “I mean I care about you. That’s not something I can just turn off with a switch or pretend doesn’t exist.”

There was a long silence as their gazes held. Finally, Lindsay said the words she knew he needed to hear. “I realized there’s a very big difference between the way my father is and you. He has his demons and one of them is clinical depression. He didn’t need me to do all the right things for his life to be better. He needed help. And part of the reason I don’t let myself get too emotionally involved, why I keep things simple and easy, is because I’m scared to death that I’ll be like my parents. Both of them suffered from depression. I don’t want to end up like that…”

“And you think I’ll bring you down?”

“No. Well, maybe. The thing is, by avoiding relationships I thought I was maybe manipulating the results, you know? But that’s not healthy either. You have problems, Matt. You have nightmares and regrets and probably some anger going on and you’re not an easy man to love. But we don’t always have a choice. When I heard about Miranda it seemed like all my concerns just faded away and didn’t matter anymore. I was just worried about
you
. I wanted to help you somehow and suddenly my need to distance myself didn’t matter anymore. You mattered more.”

He took a step forward, his eyes searching hers. “You said love.”

She faltered. “I did?”

He nodded. “You said that I’m not an easy man to love.”

She gulped, a cold wave of nervousness and fear washing over her. This was such unchartered territory. She’d never wanted this. Hadn’t gone looking for it and certainly knew it was crazy after such a short time together. But there it was nonetheless, sitting like a hard lump in the center of her chest. Easily the hardest thing she’d ever done because caring meant opening herself up to someone else and allowing the possibility of them hurting her in the end.

“Matt,” she backpedalled, “I…” But she didn’t know what to say.
I love you
felt so premature even if that was what was in her heart. And yet…the connection had been there from the beginning. From the first night he’d walked her home and kissed her at the door, leaving her wanting more.

“So you weren’t just amusing yourself with me? It wasn’t all about the sex?” He slid his chair closer, erasing the space between them, fencing her in and, yes, seducing her in the process because having him so near made the memory of their bodies pressed together oh-so prescient.

“Maybe in the beginning, but then…” It was so hard to explain, to put into words when she’d spent her whole adult life avoiding such a thing. “I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?”

He reached out and tucked the piece of hair that kept escaping back behind her ear. “Sweet Lindsay,” he said with a small smile. “I finally found a person more afraid of their feelings and commitment than I am.”

“You? Afraid?” It seemed impossible. Matt was always full of confidence. He’d seen some horrible things, but he always seemed so sure of himself.

“At first women find what I do exciting. Dangerous. Then they have to deal with the realities of my job. I’m not always fun at the end of the day. There’s shiftwork. I deal with the worst society has to offer. When there’s trouble most sensible people run away from it. It’s my job to run to it, and I love it.” He frowned. “Most of the time anyway.”

“Not days like today though.”

“No,” he said quietly, “not days like today.”

And they were back to Miranda Jones and the case that had shaken the community. Lindsay was glad the topic had come full circle and away from her feelings—at least for now. “What can I do? I’m here to listen if that’s what you need.”

“And I can’t tell you the details. I’m not sure I would if I could. If I tell you that it’s officially been ruled a murder investigation, is that enough?”

She nodded. “I don’t need details. I just know that finding her had to bring back a lot of old feelings. If you need to talk through any of that, I’m here, okay?”

“All I need from you right now is a place to escape and feel alive. To have something good in my hands to chase away the bad. Help me forget, Lindsay. That’s all I want tonight. Can you do that?”

Odd, that a week ago his words would have been music to her ears, but tonight they suddenly weren’t enough. And yet she didn’t have it in her to deny him, because she wanted it too.

“I’ll do what I can,” she whispered, and reached for him.

Twigs and leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked, carefully searching for any evidence. Every bump and lump on the forest floor was assessed and dismissed. Step, step, pause…step, step, step… He squinted ahead and wondered what the hell a circus cage was doing in the middle of the woods. Slowly, he made his way towards it, and a slumped figure appeared inside the odd steel contraption. His heart rate accelerated as he made out long dark hair on the body. Miranda had long hair. Had he finally found her? There was still time. He ran, grabbing his radio and barking in his location. If they could get her to the hospital…

He reached the cage and put his hands on the bars as rage ripped through him. He was too late. Goddammit, he was too late! Her body was limp and bloody, her eyes staring at him but seeing nothing. He pulled at the bars but they wouldn’t budge, and her name was ripped from his throat… Helen… Helen…