Fender Bender Blues (17 page)

“And I thought you might like
that
,” she said and sat down next to him. Rach grabbed the other taco, opening it and biting in without any salsa. She moaned with pleasure and shut her eyes to savor the flavors as she chewed. “Oh my God, this is
sssooo
good.”

When she opened her eyes after swallowing, Craig was watching her. His blue eyes were intense, gorgeous.

“What?” she asked and wiped her lips with a napkin. “Haven’t you ever seen a starving woman before?”

He shook his head and didn’t comment. Instead he scooped up the filling off the wrapper in front of him and shoved the food into his mouth. Rach reached for a cheesy burrito when Tally dropped her face onto her lap and nipped her t-shirt.

She hugged Tally close and crooned against her neck, “Are you hungry, Sweetie?” Tally blinked moist, black eyes in answer and whined. Rach tapped Craig on his shoulder. “I’ll be back—touch my food and die.”

He looked ceiling-ward, and held up his hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it, some things are sacred.”

Rach filled Tally’s doggie bowl then went to the fridge. She opened the door and stared at the bottle of vodka. Was it a good idea to make them a mixed drink? She’d had enough already and the food was helping to sober her up. But the man in her living room was making her no-distraction-rule hard to follow and she could use the courage the vodka might give her—or not. She mixed them both a drink and returned to the living room, handing him one of the glasses. “Liquor,” she explained, and sat down beside him. “Thought it sounded like a decent idea since it’s the weekend and all.”

“Thanks,” he said, and took a sip and winced. “Wow, you could pour this into a gas tank and drive with it.”

She tried hers and grimaced. “You’re right. I should never be a bartender. Guess I can cross that off my list of jobs to apply for.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Craig enjoyed the companionable silence as they finished off the nachos and Rach flipped through the channels on the TV. She bypassed the History channel, then returned to it and set the remote control down.

They’d been in the same room together for much longer than normal without fighting and he didn’t want to end on bad terms again. He needed to leave before they messed up this new found calm, but the quiet of his apartment was less appealing than risking a fight with Rach, so he stayed. It had been a long time since he’d spent time with someone who didn’t want to talk about his dealership. His life revolved around his business, but tonight it didn’t have to.
This is a nice change.

Determined to hang onto this moment, he held out his empty glass. “I could use another one if you’re up for it. Rough week at the office.”

She raised her brows, but took the glass. “Maybe the next one won’t taste like gasoline.”

“It really wasn’t that bad, I was only teasing you.” His breath caught as her face softened into a smile. “I wouldn’t mind if you made this one stronger, though.” And he didn’t because he wasn’t exaggerating about the rough week. He’d called a meeting with his attorneys to discuss the upcoming mediation and gather a plan for settlement. The meeting went quickly from productive to a bitch-fest in which his dad had the most to say, his attorneys dodged bullets with legalese, and Craig daydreamed about a private beach in Fiji.

The man suing was now blaming the dealership for his failing marriage and still wouldn’t budge from his first settlement demand. Despite assurances from the attorneys that they would be able to settle through mediation for about a quarter of a million dollars, Craig’s dad was not happy about giving any amount of money away. It didn’t matter. They were liable for something, and the insurance company would pay something; his dad just needed to come to terms with that. At the conclusion, his dad walked away grumbling. The attorneys bolted, looking harrowed. Nothing had been resolved and Craig now had to schedule another meeting with the attorneys, minus his dad, because the mediation was in a few weeks, like it or not.

He followed Rach into the kitchen where she maneuvered around the small space gracefully. She bent over with her head inside the fridge, revealing a tight ass under short cotton shorts. His penis stiffened inside his jeans. With his eyes glued to her panty line, he decided there was no question about it—her firm bottom would fit nicely in his hands. He crossed his arms over his chest so he wouldn’t make a grab for her. Every time that happened the night ended badly.

Leaning against the counter next to the sink, he asked, “Why didn’t you pursue a career in social services if that’s what you went to college for? I assume you have a degree?”

She was busy taking out a package of microwave popcorn from the cupboard beside the microwave and he wondered if she was still hungry. He was stuffed. She paused for a moment before tearing the plastic wrapper off the popcorn bag.

“I did,” she answered and popped the bag into the microwave. The machine hummed to life and she stared at the bag spinning round and round inside. The smell of butter filled the room. “I was a case manager up until a few months ago. I was very good at it.”

Her offhanded answer confused him. If she’d been good at it then why was she now inquiring about cashier jobs? Craig wished she’d look at him, but she was busy pulling out a large white bowl for the popcorn.

“So you liked it?” he asked. Distracted, she spilled popcorn onto the counter when she poured it into the bowl.

“I loved it.”

She dumped cheese seasoning and pepper into the bowl, coating the top layer. Would she think him rude if he didn’t eat any? Layers of black pepper weren’t his thing.

“I liked it a lot. I’d dreamt of doing it since high school.” Her voice was so soft, sounding so pained, that he leaned in a bit closer to hear her. She was staring at the wall now and he didn’t dare move for fear of disturbing her. When she continued, it was almost like she was talking to herself. “I never thought of doing anything different with my life, and then one day I went to visit the home of a family I was working with. I had a feeling, a bad one, when the mom hadn’t answered my calls for a few days. She’d been transitioning to get her kids back and we’d just released them into her care, but she was supposed to check in and we were supposed to do routine drop-ins.”

She took a deep breath. “I took a temp with me, she was a college student and I thought it would be a good experience for her to see how we handled those types of situations. We knocked, but she didn’t answer. The door was unlocked so I went inside. She was drunk and when she saw us, she went into a tirade, started throwing things, threatening us, yelling at the kids. The girl, a six-year-old tiny little thing, had a bruised lip and there was dried blood where the skin had split open.”

Craig gulped and took shallow breaths, angry at a woman he’d never met, and he fought the urge to pull Rach into his arms. He sensed she needed this, to get it all off her chest. He’d stand by silently and listen to anything, everything, if that was what she wanted. When had their relationship changed to this comfort and trust? He didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, but suddenly, all the things he hadn’t understood about her were beginning to fall into place.

She put her drink to her lips and took a small sip then she looked down at her bare feet and curled her toes. “I was pissed.” Rach continued an octave louder. “I wanted to shake her, I was so mad. How could she
do
that to those little babies? There’d never been any complaint of physical abuse before, so I hadn’t expected it. If anything, I thought she’d relapsed and started drinking again and that was enough for me not to want the kids back in her home. She wasn’t ready, I could feel it, but my supervisor thought I was being too harsh with her. She’d gone to every meeting, did the counseling she’d been ordered to do. But that was just it—she’d been
ordered
by the court. Even after the kids had been taken away she never once volunteered to put herself into rehab. To me, I saw a woman going through the motions without any heart behind it.

“The little boy was only four, and he was so terrified. His sister held him in arms barely bigger than his own while he curled into a ball, shaking. I couldn’t even breathe. I’ve seen the end result before. I get brought into a case after the police have stepped in, never while the abuse is happening. My job afterward is to make sure it never happens again. I shouldn’t have gone against my instincts on that case. It’s a tough call, I guess.”

She shook her head and blinked against the tears welling in the corners. He couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through, what the kids had gone through. It would have taken all his strength not to throttle the woman. She took a deep, ragged breath and put the soda bottle back inside the fridge.

“I hate bruises,” she reminisced. “That sickening mix of yellow and green and brown on the skin as the bruise fades. The little boy must have been hit recently, just shortly after their last meeting with me.”

She was so shaken now that he almost asked her to stop. The pain in her eyes, the way her body trembled, was unbearable to watch. He wondered if she’d ever spoken of it before now. He gripped the glass tight in his hand and raised it to his lips, killing off half the concoction in one long swallow. He was shaken himself, picturing the event as if he’d been there with her.

“I could have ignored the filth of the house, maybe. I might even have forgiven the dirty kitchen with a sink full of dishes and the swarming flies and the trash all over the floor. But there were bottles of opened whiskey lying out. The carpet was stained with liquor. It was horrible,” she whispered. Then her eyes flashed an angry green and her jaw clenched. When she blinked, a tear stole down her cheek. He wanted to wipe it away, but he didn’t dare touch her and intrude on this moment he wasn’t sure was meant for him.

“Her eyes were glazed over and she was so far gone she wasn’t even trying to hide her disgusting personality. She screamed the most horrible things. About how she hated her kids, how they ruined her life, how they were ungrateful brats and didn’t give her a moment’s peace.”

Rach looked up at him then and he was lost in her eyes, spilling over with tears. “We’re taught, you know, to keep a cool head, especially in an unstable situation like that. We’re supposed to be professionals, to take charge of the situation. Heather already had her phone out, calling the police. But me, I was outraged. I wanted to clobber her.”

She was crying fully now. Not racking sobs, but quiet, thick tears full of private pain. Her heart and mind was with the kids, aching for them, horrified at the nightmare they’d lived through.

“When I stepped between her and the children she must have—she must have snapped. And maybe a little bit of the mother in her woke up and realized what was going on. She flipped, I mean, even crazier than she’d been when we’d walked in and caught her screaming.” She crossed her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from her memories. “I stepped back to grab the children and get them out of the house and she came at me with a kitchen knife and a frying pan. Lucky for me, she swung with the frying pan first. Hit me in the back of the head before Heather jumped onto her back. I was knocked out cold. Heather told me later that the cops came in just then and restrained her.”

“My God,” he breathed, sick to his stomach. He reached for her then and held her tight in his arms. Her thick tears soaked through his shirt and his hand drifted up to cup the back of her neck.

He’d been wrong; Rachel Bennett wasn’t crazy at all. With a heart the size of Nebraska, she put all the women from his past to shame. He could see her advocating for the abused, and hearing her speak of it now, Craig had no doubt she’d go back to it when she was ready. Right now the pain was still too fresh, an open wound fighting to heal.

“I was called to court to testify as a witness, to put her behind bars and make certain she never got hold of her kids ever again,” she said into his chest, her body shuddered against his in revulsion. “I felt so bad for the babies, what they’d been through. I couldn’t believe we’d allowed it to happen. I just needed some time to…think. I took a leave of absence that’s lasted a few months longer than I’d intended it to.”

“What you went through, those kids went through, it would have been hard for anyone to go back after that,” he assured her. “You can go back when you’re ready to, Rach.” He ached for her and wished he could erase the doubt in her mind. She stirred in his arms and he held her close against him, knowing she meant to pull away. He shook his head and held tight. “No,” he said, “let me hold you for a minute.”

She looked up at him with a question in eyes still glittering with tears and he gave in to what he’d wanted to do all night—he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips, so soft against his, returned his kisses fervently. The warmth of her tears on his face ignited a need to protect he’d never known. He brushed her cheeks with his fingertips, wishing he could wipe away her pain with the gentle touch. The passion behind her kisses tested his self-control.

Her arms went around his neck, pulling him down and she pushed her breasts into his chest. His muscles grew taut by her warmth and the blood rushed through his body. The smell of her tantalized his senses, invaded his mind, pushed out any hesitation there might have been.

He slipped his hands under her shirt, up along the smooth silkiness of her skin, over her ribs. The shudder of her body and the desire in her hooded, green eyes was too much to bear. Craig swooped in for another kiss and ravaged her soft lips.

“Upstairs,” she whispered against his mouth. That was all the direction he needed. He swept her off her feet and carried her out the door and up the steep stairs to the second floor. When he reached the top he headed in the direction of the door next to the bathroom.