Unexpected Ride (11 page)

The Major had made it sound like an offer but he knew the political bullshit well enough to know if his arm, and more specifically his grip, didn’t improve soon he would be facing a choice.  Being tied down to an office and a desk or taking the retirement package he’d been offered. 

Quite honestly the whole situation just pissed him off… but there was no for better or worse in his marriage to law enforcement.  Worse was being shot and injured… but thankfully not killed… but it was still grounds for divorce.

Becca was moving down here to Florida permanently and telecommuting with her office.  When she was needed for court she would fly back to New York.  In fact she was already living with Dickie and they were even taking in two little neighbor girls who were in the foster care system.  That meant that even if Greg did get cleared for duty again, he would be returning home alone.  He had friends on the force but most of them were already married with a family so their commonality only went so far. 

Pulling into the driveway at Carla’s, he gathered up the gifts he planned to go ahead and put under their tree this evening and headed up the walkway.  After knocking a couple of times, he realized that she wasn’t home.  He hadn’t thought to call… actually he was just getting used to hanging around…
invited or not.
  It was bad and he should in all reality stop it… in the words of Chuck, he was being a stalker.  This place just felt… homey… not just a house with four walls and roof and that was thanks to Carla. 

He put the gifts in the trunk and got back in the driver’s seat.  He wasn’t sure where to go but he didn’t want to go back to the beach house and sit there alone on Christmas Eve… not this year.  He also wasn’t about to call Chuck and ask where Carla was since it wasn’t really his business.  His sister and Dickie were spending time with their two foster kids so that option was out too.  Dana and Tommy had already left to go out of town by now. 

That left Bobby and Lilly but by the time he made it across town to their neighborhood, he’d changed his mind.  He didn’t want to crash their family time either, especially during the holidays. 

Sometimes being single sucked.  This was a family holiday and aside from Becca, who was also busy, he didn’t have one.  He was out a family and potentially a job as well.  Twenty five years and all he had to show for it was the ability to drive around in a not so good section of town with gifts in the trunk of his car without fear.

Finding a bar a few blocks from where Bobby and Lilly lived with Bobby’s grandmother, Edna, he pulled in and went inside for a drink.  The woman working behind the bar was Lilly Jackson’s sister, Sherri Simons.  Sitting down on one of the barstools he watched as Sherri approached him. 

“What brings you in here?” she asked.

“It’s a holiday and I’m single,” he replied.

“Well, first one is on me as thanks for what you and Becca did for my sister.  I’ve never seen her so happy… so what’ll it be?” she asked.

After ordering his first drink he sat there mulling over his job.  Then his thoughts went to Carla Johnson as each song on the jukebox made him think of her.  Then his mind pondered his current bachelor status, Carla Johnson, his aching shoulder, and of course, Carla Johnson again. 

Sherri was a damn good bartender and kept the drinks coming until he knew he was looking at either sleeping it off in his car or calling a cab which would not do since he needed his car to take the gifts he bought to the Johnson’s house the following day…
to Carla’s house
.

He looked around for Sherri to close out his tab after realizing how long he’d been sitting there drinking and finally found her off in the corner behind the bar talking on the phone. 

While he waited for her to finish her conversation, he watched a couple dancing and envied the man. 
That
man wouldn’t be alone this evening…
Christmas Eve
… even if it was just for one night the guy wouldn’t be alone. 

Greg on the other hand would definitely be alone because the woman at the end of the bar who had been watching him most of the night wasn’t his type. 
That
woman didn’t have a man’s haircut that showcased a slender neck which begged for his kisses.  She didn’t stare at his mouth and it was doubtful her touch could make him beg for more… not like Carla at all.  He was
way
drunk. 
Great.

A few minutes later Sherri approached him again and gave him his tab.  He pulled his wallet out with his left hand since the alcohol didn’t help the crippling effects of his gunshot wound. Handing her his credit card, he watched her set it near the register and proceed to serve every other customer at the bar before finally cashing him out.  He signed the receipt she gave him and turned around in his seat to try and crawl to his car.  He was met by Carla Johnson’s disapproving eyes. 
Shit!

Reaching around him, he watched as Sherri handed Carla his car keys.  She must have pilfered them along with his credit card. 
As if he would really try to drive like this
.  Then she also handed Carla his wallet.  Dropping both items in her purse like a disapproving mother, Carla again gave him a look that said more than her words ever could.

“I would have expected more out of you, Detective,” she said sarcastically.  “Can you walk?”

“Yes… I don’t need you to mother me, Carla,” he huffed.  His words even sounded slurred to his own ears. 

Looking back to Sherri, who now smiled the smile of the devil, he wanted to tell her how unfairly she had treated him.  She had led him down this path by supplying him with one long unending drink and now she laughed at his misfortune.  And in front of Carla Johnson no less… why would she do that to him? 

Before he could say anything, Sherri said, “Yes, I am a bitch but someday you will thank me for this… just not tonight.”

He turned back to Carla when he felt her attempting to pull him off the barstool using one arm around his waist.  One of the wise men he was not, because this was likely the stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life.  Getting drunk in New York where he would have taken a cab to the bar and would therefore have to take one back home was a whole lot different than leaving a rental car with a trunk load of gifts in the parking lot of bar on the seedy side of town… in Florida.

“I will just sleep in the car tonight… because your Christmas is in my trunk,” he said. 
Gifts… gifts in the trunk.

“Why didn’t you bring them by the house before you came here to drink yourself silly?” Carla asked as she guided him out the door of the bar. 

“I did come home… and you weren’t there,” he said indignantly.  “I mean your home.” 
Mental note… he was not a good drunk.

“We went over to Doug’s parents for their Christmas celebration but we were home by nine,” she replied as she guided him into the passenger seat of her car. 
It smelled like her in here.

She got in the driver’s seat after transferring the gifts from his car to hers.  Once she’d pulled out of the parking lot she glanced over at him and said, “So is all this drinking because of your job?”

“That’s part of it… but it’s also about
you
,” he replied. 
When had Whiskey become a truth serum?
 

“
Me?
  What did I do?  Drinking yourself stupid is a
personal
choice… not something another person can
force
upon you,” she said defensively.

“You don’t do anything.  That’s the problem,” he muttered under his breath.

“I have been really busy getting ready for school, entertaining the boys while they are off for winter break and getting ready for the holidays.  Besides… you said that you didn’t
need
my help anymore,” she explained.

“I
don’t
need your help…” he replied sarcastically.

“You are a hateful drunk… do you know that?  If you don’t want my help then what?  What do you want from me?” she asked angrily.

“I want you beneath me… I want to feel your body enjoying mine.  I want you to kiss me… not just stare at my mouth.  I want you to stop mothering me and treating me like another one of your kids!  I’m a grown man, dammit!  I want you to tell me that I even stand a
chance
with you!” he replied.

He’d done it now
… she stared straight ahead for the rest of trip.  When they pulled into her driveway, he realized too late that she intended for him to stay at her house.  Again, she looked over at him and he felt her disapproval like a blanket covering his head. 
Smothering him.

“I know you’re not a child and I know you’re not… Doug… but sometimes old habits are hard to break,” she said quietly.  “Truthfully, I just want to help
you
… but
I’m
the one who needs the help.  Who am I kidding?”

“What could you possibly need help with?  You run this household like a professional event planner.  You’re sweet, funny, sexy and smart.  You’re
perfect
so what could you possibly need help with?  You’re not facing a forced medical retirement after twenty five years or Christmas Eve alone,” he replied with the sound of self-pity ringing in his ears.

“You’re right about that,” she sighed.  “But I
am
facing a past that has come back not only to haunt me but make me sorry all over again.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. 
He sounded like he was slobbering… good grief.

“Perfect?” she laughed.  “I’m a far cry from it and unfortunately my daughter and Chuck may end up paying the price for my flaws.”

His head may feel like it was wrapped in cotton but his heart told him this was important and despite the white noise the alcohol was creating he sat up straighter and listened.

“I have never admitted this to anyone else except my father and my husband but I was arrested once,” she said and then looked away from him.

“For what?” he asked.

“Selling counterfeit concert tickets,” she replied.

What?  No way!
  Even his alcohol saturated brain couldn’t accept what he was hearing.  The admission coming from her was like the strongest coffee and acted as a way to sober him up.  Turning towards her in the seat he was just in time to see a single tear spill down her cheek.

“Recently?” he asked.

“No! No, when I was nineteen,” she confessed, looking down at her hands.  “I was conned into it by the same man I think is responsible for that event website regarding Chuck.”

“And who would that be?” he asked.  His heart was numb at her confession.

“Jarrod Tompkins… but I need you to promise me something,” she nearly whispered.  “If it is him and you catch him, I need you to let him go.”

What?
  Her confession became more confusing and crazy sounding by the minute.  He was a cop!  Why the hell would he let a suspect go if he was able to catch him, especially one that had done something to her own daughter and future son-in-law?

“Why the hell should I do that, Carla?” he asked.

“Because the man is Meredith’s biological father… not my Doug,” she choked.  “And she must never know that.  Promise me.”

“You are asking me to break the law, Carla!  I can’t do that…
even for you
,” he replied.

“I’m not asking you to break the law… I’m asking you to shut down that website and then walk away… don’t get involved beyond that,” she said.  “I’m asking you for Chuck
and
Meredith’s sake, please, just let it go.  I will figure out a way to pay those people back who bought dinner or raffle tickets… I swear.”

“I can’t…
because
it’s Chuck and Meredith,” he said.  “And because it’s you.”

Chapter Seven

Would he even remember her confession from last night?
  Seeing Greg drunk had made her feel really bad for leaving him alone on Christmas Eve while she and the kids were at Doug’s parents’ house and also sympathetic over him being potentially out of a job. 

Then, as if she were drunk herself, she’d confessed all to him.  She had started talking and it was like opening a window to her soul… sharing with another person…
besides Doug
… and she couldn’t seem to close it back shut.  It had felt so good to unload some of her burden on another person.  Now she could only hope that Greg had been drunk enough to either not remember it or think it had been a dream or just his imagination.

Finishing up the cinnamon rolls she was making for breakfast and putting them in the oven, she headed to her room to get a shower and dressed for the day before the boys got up… or Chuck.  The young man had been so excited about Christmas morning that Meredith had to basically drag him upstairs to the spare bedroom by joking that Santa wouldn’t come if he wasn’t in bed fast asleep. 

Carla had been somewhat thankful that they’d still been awake when she got home with Greg, or she might never have got him in the house. 

Laying her clothes out on her bed, she then opened the door to her attached bathroom and was startled out of her thoughts at the sound of the shower curtain being pulled to one side. 

Looking up she was gifted with a sight she’d only ever imagined.  Standing in her shower was over six feet of finely chiseled Greg Sanders, with drops of water sliding down his muscular shoulders and carved chest.  Before her mind could advise her differently her gaze lowered and, rather than a quick glance, she looked her fill.

“Let me know when you’re done looking and I’ll dry off and get out of your way,” he offered.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered, her throat suddenly dry. 
She was still looking because she just couldn’t seem to stop.

“No need to apologize… ready to touch me yet or are you still just window shopping?” he asked.

She’d been so lost in thoughts of the coming day she must have missed the fact that he was no longer asleep on her couch in the living room and instead she now stood staring at him…
all of him.  And wow was he a sight.
  Forcing her mouth closed and her eyes back to his, she watched him remove a towel from the rack and run it roughly over his hair with his left hand, watching her as he did so.