“I’ll tell you what,” Greg said, turning to Benny with a wide smile of his own. “I’m going to let you find the source of that smell, Benny. I’m off for lunch.”
Benny’s grin dropped, and Greg couldn’t help but chuckle. Revenge was best served wet...and in a diaper. Emily glanced up at him.
“Could I offer you a sandwich at my place? A thanks for babysitting.”
“Absolutely.”
Heading for the door, Cora in the baby carrier against his chest and Emily next to him, her soft perfume tugging him along, he couldn’t help but feel a little spring in his step—a spring he’d better not be getting used to.
Chapter Seventeen
B
ack at her home, Emily stood at the kitchen counter making two bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches on toast. She was good at BLTs, and she enjoyed arranging them just so. They were the sort of lunch she made for herself when she was tired and in need of some comfort food without much effort. She could hear the sound of a dog barking outside, and as she worked, crisscrossing bacon strips, she glanced over at Cora, snuggled happily in her bassinet.
“So do you know what you’re going to do?” Greg asked. “Job-wise, I mean.”
“I have no idea,” she admitted with a shrug. “Basically, I’ve applied for parental leave just in case I have Cora with me, but—” She let the rest of the sentence hang.
He nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. His eyes were trained out the window, watching some robins playing in the grass, and she wondered what he was preoccupied with.
“So how was babysitting?” she asked.
He looked back at her, a twinkle in his eye. “I liked it.” He leaned his elbow on the counter and snagged a strip of bacon off the plate, taking a crispy bite.
“Honestly?” She shot him an amused look at his thievery.
“Honestly. I mean, I’m pretty sure they’re all gossiping about me like crazy right now, but it was good.” He chuckled. “I had a bit of an adventure changing her diaper.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t look good in this story.” He shook his head and laughed softly. “Let’s just leave it.”
Emily shook her head and smothered a laugh, putting the tops on the sandwiches with a satisfying pat. She slid his plate in front of him at the counter, watching his eyes hungrily light up. They stood together at the counter, their food in front of them and the afternoon sunlight pooling on the floor behind them. Outside the window, the robins were poking around for worms. It was quiet and peaceful.
“Thanks for this,” Greg said, taking a big bite of the sandwich.
Emily smiled and took a bite of her own, the saltiness of the crisp bacon mingling with tangy mayonnaise. She was hungrier than she’d thought, and after a couple of minutes, she’d devoured half her sandwich. Wiping her lips on a napkin, she glanced over at Greg.
“This is nice,” she said.
“Food?” he asked wryly.
“Company.”
“Hmm,” he agreed, sinking his teeth into another bite. He chewed and swallowed. “Your company, especially.”
“You know, Greg, I don’t think I’ll be able to just go back to the way things were.”
He looked at her, worry creasing his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“With Cora.”
“Oh.” He nodded quickly. “Of course.”
“What did you think I meant?”
He blushed slightly and shook it off. “It doesn’t matter. What were you saying about Cora?”
Emily looked over at Cora. She grunted softly in her sleep, and her diaper rustled as she stretched out her little legs. Even sleeping, Cora was a heart stealer. Emily pulled her eyes away and put her attention back into her sandwich.
“Well, I don’t think I can just go back to being the single, cheerful kindergarten teacher if this doesn’t happen. I want a family. I want a husband and kids and crayon on my walls.” She looked wistfully toward the bassinet again. “I adore her, and if she won’t be mine, I’m going to grieve, but it’s more than that. I know what I want now, and I’m not going to be happy without it.”
Greg’s expression clouded, and he sat in silence for a long moment. There was something about the way he sat, so self-controlled, that she could feel something unspoken change between them.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers sadly. “It’s okay. You’re telling the truth.”
“About wanting kids?” she asked hesitantly.
“I guess I was hoping you might consider me your consolation prize if it didn’t work out according to plan.” His eyes lingered on hers for a moment.
“Are you saying you were hoping I wouldn’t be able to keep Cora?” she asked cautiously.
“No!” He shook his head, his eyes sparking with emotion. “You two belong together. I know that. Everyone knows that. I just... Look, I know I have no future with you. You’re Cora’s mother now, and you want kids. I know that. I accept it. It just— I don’t know what to say....”
Emily was silent, stunned. She swallowed hard and looked at him, his blue eyes filled with pain and the muscles in his forearms flexing as he breathed slow, controlled breaths. He pulled a strip of bacon out of the last half of his sandwich.
“But why—” She stopped herself short, then sighed. “But why not give it a try?”
As the question rolled off her tongue, she had a mental image of doing this all the time—eating sandwiches by the counter, tag-teaming in taking care of Cora, being each other’s dates to important events...just being together. What was so wrong with that? What was so wrong with falling in love and getting married like everyone else did? What was so wrong with having a family?
He looked over at her, and by the look on his face, he was imagining something similar. He dropped the bacon onto his plate.
“I think about that a lot lately,” he admitted slowly. “Trust me, I’d love to plan vacations with you, come home to you, raise Cora with you and be able to pull you into my arms and...” His voice trailed away.
And?
She longed to hear the end of that thought, but she didn’t dare ask. She imagined his soft lips coming down on hers, his arms winding around her in a strong hug and being able to melt into his embrace. She swallowed and shook away the image in her mind.
Instead, she said weakly, “Me, too.”
He looked up, a smile creeping over his face. “We both seem to want the same thing, sort of.”
“Then why don’t we do it?” she asked. “Why not take a chance?”
“It’s complicated.” He sighed. He wiped his fingers on a napkin and stood up, his badge on his chest glistening in the afternoon light.
“Your job.”
“It’s more than a job.” His voice grew stronger and he took a deep breath. “It’s who I am. It’s who my dad was. It’s in my blood. I can’t just walk away from it, and I can’t put another family through what mine went through—what I went through. I might have been able to fight my way out, but there are kids who kill themselves from bullying. It’s not just about missing a father figure. It’s about more than that. It’s about surviving without a father figure. What am I supposed to do—take on a family that I can’t guarantee I’ll be around to protect?”
“But who says the same thing will happen?” Emily shook her head. “There is no prophecy of doom over your head saying you’re going to die young.”
Greg didn’t answer, but she could feel him steeling, hardening. He looked over at her, his eyes almost pleading with her to understand. “We do want different things, Emily. I can’t be a dad. I can get married, sure! I can be a husband, but kids are fragile. I can’t put another child through that. I’d never forgive myself for being so selfish.”
Emily turned away. Selfish. Is that what being a loving husband and father was—selfish? Why couldn’t he just open his eyes and see what they had in front of them? How often in life did this kind of chance at love present itself? Did this sort of thing happen more than once in a lifetime?
“Okay, so now you’re mad at me,” he said.
“I’m not mad.” Truth be told, she wasn’t thrilled, either. She turned around and gave him a level look.
“You look mad.” He gave her a tentative smile.
“I don’t get it, Greg. It’s not my place to change your mind about your convictions, but I don’t get it. I’m almost thirty, and I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never had this kind of connection. It doesn’t happen every day, you know.”
“I know.” His voice was low and soft. “I haven’t had this before, either.” He crossed his arms over his broad, muscled chest, his biceps bulging against his uniform sleeves.
“You’re willing to walk away from this?” She forced the words out, unsure if she really wanted to hear the answer. Her heart hammered in her throat, and she met his gaze.
“Walk away?” He shook his head and his eyes met hers, snapping in irritation. “Do I look like I’m walking away to you?”
He was angry now, too, and she could feel the tension in the room mounting. She’d rather face him angry than keep butting her head up against his self-controlled calm.
“Then what are you doing?” she demanded.
He dropped his arms and stepped toward her. He pinned her with those fierce blue eyes, emotions battling over his rugged features. “I’m trying really, really hard not to fall head over heels in love with you, Emily. That’s what I’m doing.”
“And how is that working out for you?” she asked, lifting her chin in defiance.
His answer was in a last step toward her, his strong arm sliding around her waist and pulling her against him so that she could feel the steady beat of his heart against her rib cage. Her hand, planted against his chest, felt the cold metal of his badge next to the heat of his body. His eyes softened as they met hers, and one of his warm hands brushed the hair away from her face and gently caressed her cheek. His eyes stayed fixed on hers as a soft puff of his breath touched her lips.
“I’m failing miserably,” he murmured, his voice so low that it rumbled in his chest, against the palms of her hands.
His lips lowered onto hers, and her eyes fluttered closed as he pulled her into a deep, tender kiss that she could feel all the way down to her toes. She reached up, sliding her slender arms around his neck, and when he finally pulled back, looking into her eyes again, she stared up at him breathlessly.
“See?” He released her and took a slow, intentional step away, leaving Emily a little wobbly in the knees.
“Oh,” she murmured in reply, planting a hand on the counter for support.
“I’m crazy about you,” he said quietly. “More than crazy. I’m in love with you. I love your laugh and your way of seeing things. I love your passion and your mothering instinct that is just so perfect for Cora, or any other children lucky enough to call you Mom. I love you.”
She blinked at him. “I love you, too, Greg.”
“Which makes it that much worse.” His eyes misted, and he looked ready to move toward her again, but he held himself back. “I love you for all the reasons that hold us apart. I can’t be a dad, Emily. And I wish with everything in me that I could be.”
Emily felt a lump rise in her throat, tears welling up inside of her. “What are you saying, then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is this goodbye?” she asked hesitantly.
“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “But I might need some time to—” he stopped, searching for words “—time to get my balance again.”
She nodded mutely. His balance? What about hers?
“I’d better get back to the station.” He cleared his throat and swallowed, his emotions sliding back behind a mask of professional reserve.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
He looked back at Cora in the bassinet, then headed to the front door. “I’ll see you,” he said, and as quickly as that, he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Emily standing there wondering what exactly had just happened.
Chapter Eighteen
T
he next morning, everything seemed grayer somehow. Greg came into work in a dismal mood. His officers seemed to sense his discontent and steered clear of him, letting him stamp through the station and into his office without so much as a “Hey, Chief!” from any of them. They watched him pass, though, and when he’d slammed the door to his office, the hum of voices started up again.
He’d slept horribly the night before. He kept waking up and staring out at the night sky feeling more alone than he had in a long time. What had changed? Nothing, really. He was still single. He was still the police chief of Haggerston. He was still the son of a woman losing herself to Alzheimer’s. The only thing that was different now was that he’d allowed himself to fall in love with the one woman who was least available to him. It was a rookie mistake.
Sitting down at his desk, he turned on his computer and glared angrily out the window at the gray, cloudy day that matched his mood. The air was humid and thick, and the open window did nothing to cool it down inside. He could feel sweat already forming on his brow.
I knew what I was getting into, Lord, so why did I do it?
It hadn’t been a choice to fall in love with Emily, and he knew it, although he hadn’t exactly fought it tooth and nail, either. He knew she was off-limits. He knew she deeply longed to be a mother, and he knew that he could never be the father of the family she longed for. He knew all of that. He was no fool, but apparently he acted like one from time to time.
I kissed her.
That was stupid. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. How on earth was pulling her close and letting his lips press into hers going to resolve the issue? It wasn’t. It was weakness, pure and simple. He’d done what he’d been longing to do for too long now. How often had he let his mind wander into forbidden territory, wondering what her hair would feel like running through his fingers, or wondering what it would feel like to hold her close against his chest? How often had he wondered what it would be like to look into her eyes and hear her say she loved him?
Well, he’d had the pleasure of hearing those words from her lips, and it had been painful. She loved him back, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Idiot.
If he’d left well enough alone, kept a professional distance like he knew he should have done, none of this would have happened, and all he’d be left with would be a lingering crush, something he could deal with quite easily.
He pulled some paperwork in front of him, but his eyes wouldn’t focus. Not yet. He ordinarily would go out for coffee in the general office area right about now, but not this morning. He had no desire to make small talk with anyone.
His phone rang, and he welcomed the interruption to his thoughts. Picking it up, he said a curt “Chief Taylor.”
“Hello, Chief Taylor, this is Paul Hanson. I’m Emily Shaw’s lawyer in the custody case involving the baby from the highway accident of June...” Greg could hear him flipping through pages, looking for a date.
“Yes, yes, I recall it,” Greg said. “What can I do for you?”
“You were the officer on the scene when the victim was discovered, weren’t you?” the lawyer asked.
“Yes, I was.”
“And the victim, Miss Jessica Shaw...she asked you to contact my client and insisted that her baby be placed with her, is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Was she coherent when she spoke with you?”
“Yes.”
“She was badly hurt, though. Are you sure she was coherent?”
“Yes.” Greg understood the legal process here. Emily’s lawyer was just doing his job, trying to poke holes in his story the same way the opposing counsel would at the hearing. “She knew who she was, she knew she was hurt, she knew her baby would not be able to stay with her. She was very agitated and wanted me to understand that her baby must go to Emily Shaw and no one else.”
“Good.”
He could hear a pen scratching on the other end.
“Are you willing to testify to that?”
“Absolutely.” Greg leaned back in his chair with a squeak. “I’ll testify to that. I also know Emily Shaw personally, and I’ve watched her in a caregiver position with the baby. I’m not a professional witness in that capacity, but if you think it would help, I can testify to her patience and constant love and devotion to Cora, too. She’s a good mother. She deserves to stay with this baby now that they’ve bonded.”
“Perfect.” He could hear the smile in the lawyer’s voice, and he drew the word out with satisfaction. “Just a reminder, the hearing is tomorrow at ten a.m. You’ll be there?”
“I sure will.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
Greg hung up the phone and pursed his lips in thought. He remembered that desperate mother, her face half covered in blood, her eyes frantic as she struggled to breathe. She’d been afraid and unable to even turn toward her baby, but the tiny cries from the backseat had been constant. He felt as if he owed something to that poor woman, the woman whose life had been ebbing away, but her heart had still been with her tiny infant. That mother deserved more than to be forgotten, to have her struggle swept away in court proceedings.
I have one more day.
He glanced at the calendar on his desktop. Getting court orders and the like had taken up a lot of time, but there was still enough time to sort out the rest of Jessica’s story. At least he hoped it was enough.
Picking up his phone, he dialed Benny’s number at his desk.
“Chief?” Benny said, picking up.
“Hi, Benny. I plan to make a little visit to our senator friend. Do me a favor and find out where he’ll be tonight. I’d like to have a little surprise chat with him, without giving him the chance to buff up his story.”
“Gotcha.” Greg could hear the rattle of computer keys. “I’ll get it for you in a few minutes, sir.”
Greg took a deep breath and stood up. This felt better. He’d do something useful, get to the end of this mystery surrounding Jessica Shaw, and maybe when he did that, he could close the door on this whole situation and get back to some semblance of normal life again.
* * *
Emily stood in her kitchen facing her two best friends. Cora lay contentedly in Nina’s arms, looking up at her dangling silver earrings in awe. Beth sat at the kitchen table, munching on a bowl of trail mix. The lights were on inside, making up for the dismal cloud outdoors. It looked as if it might want to rain again, and as Emily stared out the window, she could see the wind picking up, rustling the leaves of the apple tree, whisking a welcome breeze inside.
“Are you ready for the hearing?” Nina asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. I met with my lawyer this morning, and we went over what to expect. Basically, he just said to be myself.”
“Good advice,” Beth said with a nod.
Emily sighed. “I guess I can’t do much else, but I’d really rather have some sort of strategy so I felt like I was doing something.”
Nina chuckled. “I get that. That’s very type A of you.”
“Anyone who sees you with Cora will know you belong together,” Beth said. She leaned over and tweaked one of Cora’s toes, making the baby smile. “Will Greg be there?”
Emily nodded. “He’s a witness.”
“Yes, yes.” Nina laughed. “We aren’t asking if he’s coming as a witness. Will he be there for you?”
Emily was silent. Would he? She had no idea where they stood right now. The kettle started to whistle on the stove, and she distracted herself with getting down the teapot from the cupboard above the stove and reaching for the tea leaves and strainer. It was a hot and humid day, but it still felt like a day that needed tea, if only going through the motions for comfort.
“Emily?” Beth asked softly.
“I don’t know.” Emily felt tears misting her eyes. “It’s complicated.” She put the pot down with a soft clatter, then covered it with her hands. The last thing she needed was to break her favorite teapot today, too.
“Complicated how?” Nina pressed.
Cora started to fuss, and Emily walked over to take the baby from Nina’s arms, pulling Cora in close for a cuddle. The infant instantly settled, happy to be in Emily’s arms, and Nina went to take over with the tea.
“He came over yesterday afternoon, and he...we...” How was she supposed to explain this?
“What happened?” Beth asked. “Did you break up?”
“We were never together.” Emily laughed bitterly. “How could we break up?”
The other two women were silent, the only sound the clink of spoon against teapot as Nina added tea leaves, and Emily’s eyes wandered out the window where some drizzling rain was starting to fall.
“He said he loves me,” Emily finally said softly.
“Wow!” Beth burst out. “That’s good, right?”
Emily looked back at her friend with her large pregnant belly and twinkling, expectant eyes. Beth had been married since she graduated from university at twenty-two. She had no idea what it was like to be single at thirty, or to face anything completely alone. She’d always had Howard, either as a boyfriend or a husband. She couldn’t blame Beth for her happiness, though.
“It doesn’t change anything. He doesn’t want kids, and I do. Isn’t that the same thing that’s been between us the whole time?” Emily looked down at Cora with her big blue eyes and pudgy little hands. They were at an impasse.
“You are both ridiculously stubborn,” Nina said.
“I said that before,” Beth agreed.
“Actually, he’s the ridiculously stubborn one,” Emily replied. “It isn’t my place to change his mind, but he wants to be with us so badly—he just won’t allow himself the pleasure.”
“Good grief. Do you love him?”
Emily looked at them mutely, and Beth nodded. “Of course you do.”
“There’s nothing to do,” Emily said. “I knew I was doing this on my own from the beginning. That is no surprise to me.”
“You aren’t alone.” Beth stretched as far as she could past her belly and put her hand over Emily’s. “You’ll always have us. Cora is going to be one loved little girl, and Auntie Beth plans to be a big part of her life.”
Nina grinned. “Don’t forget about Auntie Nina. Someone has to teach that girl to shop.”
Emily couldn’t help but smile. “I can do this.”
“Of course you can,” Nina agreed, carrying the pot to the table. “You’re strong, capable, loving and everything that Cora could ever dream of in a mom. You’ll go in there tomorrow, hold your head high and show the judge what a perfect choice Jessica made.”
“That’s the plan.”
Emily looked down at Cora, whose eyes were drooping tiredly. She leaned her plump cheek against Emily’s shirt, nestling in closer to drift off to sleep. She was getting bigger in her arms now. She remembered not too long ago when the wee thing fit along her forearm comfortably, but now she needed two hands to hold her. She was growing, and she was thriving. More than that, Emily was growing, too—personally and spiritually.
Tomorrow, she would go into the hearing with a prayer in her heart and ask to be allowed to keep Cora in her life. Would it be enough? Only God knew. All she could do was pray that tonight wasn’t the last night that little Cora would sleep in this house.