Authors: Kendra Little
He grinned and her heart melted. "I
can see that." He relaxed and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling
her close. "I'm relieved you're okay. But we need to talk."
"Dante! Stop chatting. We've gotta
go question that lot." Dave's timing sucked.
Lucy took the distraction to move away
from Nick's hard, warm body. Being that close to him was dangerous. Like being
sucked into a black hole in outer space—she had no control.
He stiffened, watching her. His head
dropped between his shoulders and he nodded. "So that's how it's going to
be."
"Nick—"
"Forget it, Lucy. My mistake." He
straightened and pushed off from the wall he'd been leaning against. "You
need to come down to the station and make a statement. I don't think you'll
have to stay too long."
She sighed and nodded. Maybe it was best
if they just dropped it anyway. She really didn't want to discuss their
relationship, or lack of it, with him again. By leaving, she'd made her stance
clear. The less she saw of him from now on, the better. And since the case was
over, and her involvement ended, she could get on with her life away from him.
CHAPTER
14
Rain and wind battered Lucy's bedroom
window, waking her up way too early. Oscar, curled into the small of her back,
seemed oblivious to the howling winter elements. Lucy yawned and stretched then
snuggled back under the covers, trying not to wake him.
But ten minutes later, she knew she
wasn't going to sleep anymore that morning. She was exhausted after spending
half the night giving evidence. She wondered if Nick had managed to get some
sleep yet. They'd probably worked through the night. Part of her wanted to call
him, see how the case was shaping up, but she didn't have his home number. She
didn't even know where he lived.
Somehow that seemed wrong. After sharing
so much of themselves and being so intimate, it didn't seem right to know so
little personal information about him. Did he live in a house or an apartment? Did
he like the minimalist look or were his furnishings a mixture of styles and
colors?
And yet, she felt like she
knew
him. Really knew him. It was the little details that made a person. He liked to
cook, he preferred to do crosswords than watch daytime TV and he liked
snuggling after sex. Oh yeah, and he was a dynamo in bed—attentive, generous
and athletic.
She sighed and got up. Lying in bed,
thinking of Nick's lovemaking prowess was a bad idea—it made her horny. She
needed to move, get on with things, or she'd be moping all day.
The fact that she was moping at all made
her stop mid-step. Why was he occupying so much of her thoughts? No man had
before.
But she'd never met a man like Nick
Dante.
She may never again.
She rested her palms on the bathroom sink
and stared into the mirror as if it would offer her valuable advice. But all
she saw was a woman badly in need of more sleep—dark sacks hung under
red-rimmed eyes and her hair was lank and greasy.
She showered, washed and dried her hair
and applied makeup to cover up the shadows. It wasn't enough so she underlined
her eyes with black Kohl and mascaraed her lashes. She had no idea why she
bothered since there were no clients to see. Nor anyone else for that matter.
The phone rang and she ran to get it
before the answering machine kicked in.
"Hello."
"Lucy? It's me, Richard."
"Oh. Hi Richard." She still
didn't call him Dad. It didn't sound right, not after all these years. "How
are you?" She winced at the strained politeness in her voice.
"Fine. You? Your mother's been
worried. Someone rang her yesterday looking for you."
Nick had mentioned he'd called her mother
and Abbey, looking for her. She wondered what the two most important people in
her life had told him.
"Yeah, he's just a ... friend. I'll
call Mom and tell her everything's fine."
"I'll tell her if you like. Not that
she was too worried, but I have to admit that I was."
"Why?"
A pause. "I guess I'm not used to my
little girl being all grown up. I still think of you as a ten year-old."
"Understandable since that's how old
I was last time you saw me." She couldn't stop the barb. It sounded harsh,
mean. Well, too bad.
He sighed. "I know this is weird, but
I really want to try to get to know you again. I have a lot of explaining to do
and I don't want to do it over the phone. I'd really like to see you."
"No."
"Please, just give me a chance to
explain. We'll have lunch. The three of us."
There was a shuffle at the other end and
her mother came onto the line.
"Mom? What are you doing
there?"
"I live here. Your father dropped in
to talk and I told him he should call you. Now, you listen to me, Lucy. We've
made a reservation at The Lunch Box today. Please come. Richard wants to make
things right—"
"That's his problem, not mine."
"Wrong, it's your problem too."
She sighed. "Do this for me, Lucy."
Lucy clenched her teeth to stop from
screaming. Her mother was the best blackmailer in the world when she used her
"poor me" tone.
"All right, I'll be there."
"One o'clock."
She hung up and Lucy sat down heavily on
the stool at her kitchen bench. She really wasn't ready for this. Not straight
after her emotional roller coaster ride with Nick the last few days. She didn't
need another man in her life pushing her into a corner.
Lucy ate breakfast, fed Oscar and grabbed
her keys. She might as well head to the office to see if any new clients wanted
her to spy on their cheating spouses. She didn't feel like working, but at
least it would keep her mind off everything else going on in her life. Downstairs,
she opened the front door to the building, just as Nick, damp and huddled under
the eaves, pressed the buzzer to her apartment.
"Nick! What are you doing
here?"
"Nice greeting." He grinned but
it didn't reach his bloodshot eyes. From the dark stubble on his chin, she
guessed he hadn't been home yet.
"Shouldn't you be working?" she
asked.
He winced. "Nice to see you
too."
"Sorry." She shuffled her feet.
She should ask him in for coffee, but she really wanted to avoid being alone
with this man. That would give him the perfect opportunity to tell her he
wanted a relationship and that would lead to her breaking his heart. She
couldn't do it. She liked him too much. Best to avoid that situation all
together.
"Can we go upstairs?" he said. "To
talk. I've got something I want to say."
"I'm really busy. I have work to
do." She moved past him but he caught her arm and pulled her to him. He
smelled like a damp forest.
"Hear me out. Please. It's
important."
How could she say no to those tired,
puppy-dog eyes. "Okay, but be quick."
He glanced around and drew in a deep
breath. "Okay. The thing is," he cradled her face with his big hands,
"I love you." He paused, studied her eyes. "Lucy, say
something."
How could she when her throat was so
tight she couldn't even swallow. Jeez, she could barely even breathe let alone
speak.
"I know it's sudden," he said,
"and I know you're freaking out right now. But I had to say it. If I
didn't lay my cards on the table, I'd be kicking myself." When she said
nothing, he dropped his hands to his sides. "I see. My mistake."
"You love me?" She nearly
laughed at the word it sounded so strange.
"Yeah." He smiled.
"But ... how?"
He laughed and shrugged. "I don't
know. I just do." The smile faded. "Yesterday when you left, I
realized I needed you in my life. I know we've got some things to sort out, but
we'll get through them."
Things? Like her less than virginal
history? Like her issue with relationships? Like the weight pressing down on
her chest, suffocating her?
She really didn't want to hurt him. He
was too good a man, too gentle, honest, kind, adorable, and yet she was going
to hurt him because she could never love him back. Not the way he should be
loved.
She shook her head. "I can't do
this, Nick. I can't play happy families with you." She turned away so she
didn't have to look at his fallen face. "It's not me. It's not us. You
might think you're not worried about my...past now, but one day it'll come back
to haunt us."
"I don't care about that,
Lucy." He reached for her but she moved away and his hands dropped limply
to his sides.
She stole a glance at his face and wished
she hadn't. He'd aged ten years. The lines around his eyes were deeper, the
redness darker, and slow droplets of water dripped from jagged strands of hair
hanging limply across his forehead.
"What happened before me doesn't
matter," he said. "I know you'd never cheat. You're not like..."
He glanced down at his feet.
"Donna? Are you sure?" She spat
the words out, not because she wanted to hurt him but because she wanted him to
see reason. It might not bother him now, but when the first euphoric period of
their relationship was over, would he still think that way? Or would he panic
every time she smiled at one of his colleagues?
Anyway, it didn't matter, because she
wasn't going to have a relationship with him. Or anyone. She wasn't the
settling down kind.
How many people really were? She couldn't
name one happy monogamous couple. Not one. Abbey and Spencer didn't count—six
months wasn't long enough.
"You're nothing like her," he
said quietly. She could see his temper simmering just below the surface. "Don't
even compare yourself to Donna."
Why? Because Donna was a paragon of
wifeliness who'd slipped up a couple of times to get the attention of her
workaholic husband? Oh God. Maybe that was true. Maybe he still loved his ex
wife.
He swore and pushed a hand through his
hair. "Damn it, Lucy, don't leave me hanging like this. Stop playing with
me and ... just lay it on the line."
"I thought I had." She
straightened to her full height but only reached his shoulders. She wished
she'd worn higher boots. "I can't be with you, Nick. I'm sorry if that
hurts your feelings, but that's just the way it is. I'm not wired like other
women. I don't do happy families and play house." The words tore from her
throat and from the way he stepped back, it looked like they'd slapped Nick
right in the face. He swallowed, blinked at her, and she felt like a bitch
taking the shine out of his eyes. Why did she feel so terrible? "It's got
nothing to do with being monogamous," she added, wanting to explain it to
herself as much as to him. Maybe it would make more sense if she said it out
loud, "and everything to do with being single and loving it. I'm free, my
own woman this way. I'm happier."
Then why did she feel so damn awful? She
felt like she was telling her best friend to get lost.
Nick's face turned hard, the pain
replaced by the cop's mask. "I've got to go."
She watched him trudge through the rain
to his car. He didn't turn around.
"Goodbye," she said quietly. She
got in her car, feeling desolate and lost. Strangely, the weight pressing on
her chest hadn't eased. It only pressed harder, heavier.
As she drove to her office on autopilot a
few blocks away, she could only think of one thing. It wasn't supposed to feel
like this. She was supposed to feel free now that she'd rejected him. But she
just felt more trapped than ever.
***
Nick finished up the paperwork and sat
back in his chair. Dave had just left and he should be heading off too. He
badly needed some sleep. But he doubted he'd get much. His head was still too
full. Too full of Lucy.
Damn it, it wasn't meant to be this way. Telling
her he loved her should've made everything all right.
There were so many things he would do
differently if he had another chance. He'd be more adamant that her past didn't
matter. He'd tell her he loved her more than once. He'd take her upstairs and
make love to her—
show
her how much he loved her.
But all those things took time and he
didn't have any. He needed to get back to work before Dave or the Chief noticed
he was gone. The Mollino case was too important to ignore now.
Besides, she'd made herself pretty damn
clear. She didn't love him. Probably even hated him.
"Good work," said the Chief,
emerging from his office. "Just got off the phone from the prosecutors. They'll
take over from here. You going out for a celebratory drink?"
Nick shook his head. "Maybe on
Friday."
The Chief slapped him on the back. "Go
home and get some sleep. Good job, Dante."
Nick hoped his good mood extended to
tomorrow when he asked him for some time off. He needed to get out of town for
a while. Maybe visit his family in Stanton. Anything to keep his mind off Lucy.