Perfect Fit (6 page)

She blew out a shaky breath. “I hope so.”

“I know so. What are you thinking? Have you and Belinda talked about possibilities?” Cara asked.

Daniella nodded. “I still have my paralegal license, but I haven’t worked in two years.”

No, as Cara knew, she’d stayed home because her boyfriend wanted her at his beck and call, and at first things had been great. She’d felt needed and wanted. Then slowly he’d begun isolating her from not just old coworkers, but
friends, then family. Once he was the sole person in her life, his anger at little things showed itself more often. Which was how Cara met her the first time, after the neighbors called about the noise next door. Ultimately, after her now-ex raised his hand and slapped her once, Cara persuaded her to leave. But Daniella wasn’t sure of her decision because she was so fragile and alone.

“All you need to do is brush up on your skills, maybe take a refresher course. Belinda has contacts everywhere. You can move out of state—”

“But my family is here,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Cara drew a deep breath, understanding the need to be around family and friends. “I was going to say, or you can take out the restraining order you haven’t wanted to get and look for a more local job. Nothing too close to your ex, but somewhere nearby.” She squeezed the other woman’s hand. “The good news is you don’t need to make any decisions right now.”

“I know. But I’m not smart enough to—”

“Hey! None of that,” Cara said, more harshly than she meant to. Nothing angered her more than the insidious way some men managed to invade a woman’s mind and mess with her self-esteem.

Was it personal for her? Yes. Her own father had done his share of that both to her and to Cara’s mother, using his drinking as an excuse. Cara had learned early how to stay out of the house for as long as possible, getting involved in sports and after-school activities. When she wasn’t doing school-related things, she’d hide out at her friend Melissa’s house. Luckily for her, Melissa’s mom didn’t mind. But Cara hated leaving her own mom at home, and as a teen she’d been overwhelmed with guilt for all the hours she spent out of the house. As an adult, Cara understood that her mother made her own decisions—but understanding and accepting were two different things. In other words, the guilt remained.
Melissa, meanwhile, had moved out of state, but they’d stayed in touch.

Forcing herself to focus on Daniella, Cara deliberately softened her expression and her tone. “What did the therapist tell you to do when Bob’s voice gets into your head?”

“Positive affirmations. I’m a smart, capable woman,” Daniella said, not sounding as if she believed it.

Cara nodded. “Exactly. Just keep repeating that to yourself, because it’s true.”

“Sorry I took so long!” A petite redhead interrupted the awkward moment as she joined them in the kitchen. “I had so many things to fold. But I’m back!”

“Hi, Lindsay,” Cara said, greeting the other woman with a smile.

“Hi, Cara. What’s shaking?”

“Not much. You?”

“I have a job interview tomorrow,” Lindsay said, beaming with excitement.

“Fantastic! Congratulations.”

The young woman was a bundle of positive energy these days, and Cara hoped her enthusiasm for life and change would rub off on Daniella. Cara truly worried that Daniella’s depression would lead her straight back to her ex, something she didn’t want to see happen.

“Thanks. Are you staying for dinner?” Lindsay asked.

Cara shook her head. Now that Daniella had company, Cara decided it was the perfect time to leave. “I can’t tonight, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Cara. I mean it,” Daniella said.

“And I meant what I said. You’re amazing. Remember that.” She hugged Daniella and then Lindsay, who vibrated with excitement over her upcoming interview.

She’d make a quick stop at her place to change clothes and head on over to Joe’s. After being with Daniella, Cara was in the dumps and needed something to change her
mood. Maybe some good old-fashioned dancing and a couple of drinks would do the trick.

Déjà vu was a potent aphrodisiac, Mike thought as
he entered Joe’s Bar. The music, something he still wasn’t used to, vibrated around him, the dance floor already full. Normally he’d be meeting up with his brother, but with Sam out of commission, Mike was here alone. He could have called up an old friend or two with whom he’d reconnected since his return, but he wasn’t in the mood for idle talk.

He was in a mood, and it wasn’t a good one. He hadn’t wanted to go upstairs to the tiny apartment and stare at the four walls or the TV while he was still mulling over all he’d learned from Sam and Cara about the mayor’s investigation. Until he knew what they’d find out about Rex or Simon, he couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around the possible implications. No matter what, he and Cara would have to proceed with caution and keep things low-key. Something he’d have to discuss with her. But for tonight, he needed downtime.

So here he was, at Joe’s Bar, where instead of peace he found himself remembering a hot night with a beautiful woman he couldn’t have again.

Swell.

He headed straight for the bar, figuring if nothing else he could shoot the shit with Joe. As he approached, he was surprised to find Cara sitting alone, staring into her almost-empty cocktail glass, probably waiting for friends.

Every instinct inside him screamed at him to turn around and head on upstairs and away from temptation. Ever the risk taker, Mike continued toward her only to realize the guy to her left was making a play, something that seemed to happen to Cara regularly, and Mike didn’t want to examine the feeling gnawing at him too closely.

He’d placed an arm behind her chair and sidled up close.
Mike’s stomach twisted with what he would have liked to think was hunger. He knew better and didn’t like the possessive feeling one bit. The knowledge that she could get to him on any level filled him with frustration.

The guy leaned in and whispered in Cara’s ear.

She immediately stiffened and pushed her chair back to get away from him. “What part of get lost don’t you understand?” she asked the man Mike didn’t recognize.

The rejection was all Mike needed to see in order to ease the painful cramping in his gut.

“I just want to buy you a drink, sweet thing.” The other man smiled, more than a hint of arrogance in his grin.

Cara cocked her head to one side. “I already said
no thank you
twice. Get lost or I’ll show you I’m nobody’s sweet thing.”

Mike stifled a laugh. She hadn’t realized he was watching, and he wasn’t ready to call attention to himself just yet. Cara was a handful on a good day. She could more than take care of herself, something he definitely admired about her.

She was off duty, but like him, he’d lay odds she carried a piece somewhere on her. The night they’d spent together, they’d each had to unstrap their guns before things got going.

The persistent guy still looked at Cara as if trying to determine whether she was serious or playing hard to get. Given the swing of her leg, encased in steel-toed cowboy boots, the man really ought to take a hint.

Before she could kick him in the nuts, Mike decided to step in. “The lady is with me. Take a hike.” Mike came up beside Cara on her free side, deliberately looming large and close.

She glanced up at him in surprise.

“I’m not poaching on your woman, Chief,” the man said, obviously recognizing Mike. “She didn’t say she was taken.”

“But she
did
say
no
,” Cara muttered. With a scowl, the other man left. “Idiot.”

“You can say that again. Waiting for friends?” Mike asked.

She shook her head. That she was alone surprised him. Unlike Mike, Cara was a people person.

“Alexa had an emergency and I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.” She gestured to a table where a group of people from the station were hanging out. “What about you?” she asked, as she finished her drink.

“Same. Sam’s out of commission and I wasn’t in the mood for people either.” He hooked his leg around a suddenly free bar stool and settled in beside her. “What are you drinking?”

“A Manhattan.”

He cocked an eyebrow. Strong with a hint of sweetness, just like her, though he opted not to point that out. Instead he gestured to Joe to refill Cara’s drink and give him his usual. “So what’s got you needing a strong drink?”

Cara pivoted in her chair until their knees touched. “What is this?” She pointed back and forth between them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me. You. Real conversation. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She settled her blue eyes on him as she turned the tables.

He’d prodded her much the same way when he’d shown up at her house to visit his brother, so maybe he deserved it, Mike thought. He hadn’t exactly been a decent guy since his return.

“Since we have to work closely together now, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” He didn’t want to give away too much of what he was feeling. Hell, he couldn’t define it for himself, let alone verbalize his emotions.

She narrowed her gaze, studying him. “I suppose.”

“Here you go. A Manhattan for you.” Joe placed a new cocktail glass in front of Cara. “And a whiskey neat for the chief,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks,” Mike said.

“How’s Annie doing?” Cara asked Joe.

The bartender’s eyes lit up at the mention of his fiancée. “She’s great. We’re great. You got the wedding invitation, right?” he asked.

She smiled brightly. “You bet. I RSVP’d right away.”

Mike merely nodded.

Joe waved in dismissal. “I don’t pay attention to things like that. Who’s coming is Annie’s job. I just want to marry the woman.”

Cara’s pleased laugh expressed how she felt about that sentiment. “Well, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“And not a minute too soon,” Joe said.

A happy couple, Mike thought, and took a drink, enjoying the first burn as the liquor slid down his throat.

“I knew you two would be good for each other.” Cara smiled, and warmth seeped through Mike’s veins.

He tried to tell himself it was the alcohol hitting his system and not her megawatt grin.

“Is Annie feeling well too?” Cara asked.

“No MS episodes for a while now,” Joe said, then glanced toward the sound of his name. “Gotta go. I’m being summoned at the other end of the bar.”

“Put it all on my tab,” Mike called out to the bartender before he made his escape.

“That’s not necessary,” Cara said.

He’d expected her protest. “Maybe not, but I’m doing it anyway.”

She shrugged. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing the subject back to where they were before Joe had interrupted.

She frowned at him, and he discovered—or should he say rediscovered—her dimples. “I had a rough day.” She took a long sip of her drink. “No, that’s wrong. I have it good. Someone else is going through a bad time.”

The pain in her voice bothered him. “Anyone I know?”

She shook her head. “I volunteer at Havensbridge.”

“The women’s shelter.” At her surprised look, he said, “I know we refer domestic violence victims there.”

“One of the women…she’s so demoralized, and I’m afraid she won’t hold out long enough to get help, that she’ll go back to her ex.”

He met her gaze. “You can’t make her choices for her.” Despite knowing better, he placed his hand over hers on the bar.

Cara visibly stiffened, but he didn’t remove his hand. “All you can do is give her your advice.”

“Sometimes words aren’t enough. I ought to know.”

It was a small enough town that Mike knew that her parents didn’t have the best marriage. Her father wasn’t the nicest person around, especially when he’d been drinking. What Mike didn’t know was whether Cara had ever been on the receiving end of his abuse. The thought made Mike want to hit something or someone himself.

“Cara?”

“Hmm?”

He wanted to ask if her father had ever hurt her. More, he wanted to protect her from anyone else harming her either. But she didn’t need his help any more than Mike knew what to do with these crazy feelings she inspired.

“Do you want to dance?” he heard himself ask instead.
Not bright, buddy
, Mike thought to himself.

She paused a beat before answering. “Why not,” she said at last.

They wound their way through the morass of people and onto the crowded dance floor, the jukebox playing Adele. No sooner had they reached a comfortable spot than another slow, crooning song came on, and Mike had to wonder why the universe liked to toy with him this way. Still, he’d asked her to dance, and Lord knew he wanted her in his arms, so he held out his hand.

She placed her smaller palm in his.

He thought he’d been prepared for the crackle of electricity, but the zing that went through him was stronger than he’d remembered or anticipated. He pulled her into his embrace, hoping like hell he could control his body’s reaction because in this tight space, with her flush against him, there was no way she wouldn’t notice.

She got to him.

Cara didn’t talk, and neither did he. Somehow the ease with which she fit into his arms and the relaxed way they swayed to the music spoke for them.

He ought to feel that uncomfortable itching sensation now, like the one he’d always used to experience when Tiffany tried to make plans in advance, or like the one he got when he approached his parents’ house and he felt like home and expectations were closing in on him. Yet he experienced none of those things, only the feeling of comfort along with the ever-present arousal she inspired.

Cara sighed then. A small sound shuddered through her body and as she laid her head against his chest, something he’d been holding tight inside him seemed to ease. Her hair smelled fruity and delicious, and déjà vu returned full force.

Last time, she’d been as eager to leave the bar as he. As willing to indulge in hot, needy sex without discussion or questions of what the act might mean. And she’d satisfied the needs not just of his body but of something more. So much so that he hadn’t slept with a woman since. He’d tried not to think about that, but now he couldn’t focus on anything else. He had the one woman he wanted in his arms. Again.