Читать книгу Her Lawman Protector - Patricia Johns - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

LIV HADN’T BEEN expecting a houseguest when she woke up that morning, so as she led the way up the back staircase toward her apartment, she tried to remember exactly how clean she’d left the place. Did she have bras hanging over the shower rod? Had she left the window cracked open like she normally did to air out the breakfast smells, or had she forgotten? Always nice to introduce your living space smelling like old fried eggs. She was aware that she may have settled back into single life a little too well... Funny how fast that happened. When Evan had first left her, the emptiness had been agonizing.

“One of the officers will swing by my place and pick up a bag of clothes for me,” Jack said from behind.

“Where are you staying?” Liv asked as she reached the top of the stairs and fished in her pocket for the key.

“At a hotel, actually. I’m not settled yet.”

Not settled was an understatement, but then men were different. They didn’t seem to mind roughing it as much as she did. Liv liked to have a home—comfort, solitude, her personal items surrounding her to make her feel safe. Except safe right now was relative, wasn’t it?

Liv unlocked her door and glanced around before opening it all the way. Everything seemed in order—or mostly so. There were a few dishes on the counter, but that was probably forgivable.

“Come in,” she said stepping aside to make room for the burly cop. He gave her a nod of thanks, then stepped into the apartment and looked around. She got the feeling that his eyes were picking up more detail than anyone else’s would. She knew how cops worked, how they thought.

She’d have a cop staying under her roof for the next little while, and that was a bit uncomfortable. Not only was he very, very male—she glanced over Jack, who was checking window locks—he was muscular and intimidating. But under that shell, she could see hints of a regular guy—the stubble on his chin, the scrape across the knuckles of one hand. Every cop had personal armor they put on when they were at work, but they were human, too. It was the “guy” part of him that made this the most awkward. She’d only just gotten comfortable living alone again, and she didn’t need reminders of what she was missing out on.

“I hope you don’t mind the couch,” Liv said. “It doesn’t pull out or anything.”

“I’m not exactly a houseguest,” Jack replied. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be sleeping with one eye open, anyway.”

“The water in the bathroom is a bit finicky,” she added. “It’s either piping hot or freezing. But there is a sweet spot, if you find it.”

“I’ll survive.” He shot her a rueful smile.

“Also, there’s a draft that I can’t seem to find the source of. We might need to move the couch about a foot if you don’t want to freeze at night.”

When Evan had shown her the place before they’d signed all the papers, they’d felt that draft and Evan had jokingly suggested a ghost. She hated being spooked, and back then, Evan had loved getting her into his arms... She pushed back the melancholy memory.

“You okay?” he asked. Liv looked up to find Jack’s dark gaze fixed on her.

“Fine.” She pushed the sadness back. Missing Evan took her by surprise sometimes, even though she knew that he wasn’t worth her heartache.

“So when you bought this place, you bought it jointly?” Jack asked.

“Of course.” She gave him a speculative look. What exactly did he think of her marriage? Evan had loved her once upon a time. “Jack, have you ever been married?”

“Not yet. Lived with a woman once, but we never got to a wedding. Why?”

“Because married people tend to buy things jointly,” she replied with a shake of her head. “We were married. We had a life together. I wasn’t tucked away in the background somewhere.”

“Got it,” he replied.

“Although being married to a cop is a whole new kettle of fish,” she admitted. “They have too many secrets. I’ll never marry another one.”

“And all cops are the same?” He pulled away from the window and glanced back at her.

“All cops do the same job,” she said. “And it attracts a certain personality type. You pour yourself into your work, teamwork is life-or-death and you stick to your code.”

Jack shrugged. “All right. But most of us have a finer sense of right and wrong than your ex-husband.”

Did they? She’d heard of a few affairs in the Denver precinct over the years she was married to Evan. And for all of Jack’s declarations of disapproval, he’d been at the wedding where Evan had married his mistress.

“You’re done with cops, then?” Jack asked after a moment.

“Completely,” she replied with a wry smile. “Call me selfish, but I don’t like coming in second place to anything in my husband’s heart.”

“Fair enough.”

She wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to—her desire to steer clear of cops or her stance on marital priorities. It didn’t matter.

“When was the last time you talked to Evan?” Jack asked.

“A couple of weeks ago,” she replied. “He called me, for the record.”

The sound of his voice had rattled her. She’d been having a tough morning, and he’d purred into her ear like he had back when they were married. It hadn’t been fair.

“What did he want?”

“His grandmother’s brooch. He thought I still had it, and he wanted his wife to be able to wear it.”

“Did you have it?” Jack asked.

“No, I don’t have it,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m not petty enough to hijack family heirlooms.”

And yet the image of Officer Hot Pants wearing that brooch still rankled her. She remembered how touched she’d been when Evan had given it to her the Christmas after they were married. It had seemed so heavy with meaning... So much for that.

Liv looked around the small apartment, from the open living room and kitchen to the closed bedroom and bathroom doors. It looked like they’d be in some very close quarters together for the next little while, and she didn’t like this uneven balance of power in her own home.

“This is going to be awkward,” she said suddenly. “We could make it less awkward if we have a few ground rules.”

“Lights-out time?” he asked. “Shower schedule?”

“I was thinking more like a tit-for-tat sort of arrangement. I get that I’m the one needing police protection, but that leaves me giving all the information, telling all my personal stuff, and you get to keep your privacy.”

Jack grew still, but his eyes didn’t leave her face. “That’s the job description, Liv. Is it a problem?”

“For me.” She headed to the kitchen, and Jack followed as she talked. “I hated that—the police secrecy all the time—and I don’t feel like living with it again.”

She started to stack dishes in the sink.

“I’m afraid I can’t help much there,” he said.

“Oh, but you can.” She shot him a smile over her shoulder. “I know you can’t reveal police secrets, but you can reveal a bit about yourself. I propose a deal. For every personal thing I tell you, you have to match me.”

“With what?” He sounded uncomfortable.

“With information of your own. I didn’t choose this! I’m a victim in this whole situation, yet I have a virtual stranger living with me for the next while. That’s invasive. I’d feel a lot better if I wasn’t the only one having all her personal business laid bare.”

Jack laughed softly. “I could see that.”

“Well?” Liv grabbed a towel and turned around to face him.

“It’s highly irregular,” he replied.

“So?” She spread her hands. “You think this isn’t irregular for me, too?”

She was tired of trying to shrink herself, take up less space, both physically and emotionally. She’d survived the worst she could imagine when her husband left her, and she’d promised herself never to back into a corner again.

“I’m here to protect you,” Jack qualified.

“Which I appreciate,” she agreed. “But you’re still here, in my home, in my business.”

Jack met her gaze for a moment, and she watched him, waiting. He was trying to hide what he was feeling, but a nervous tapping of one finger on his belt gave him away.

“All right,” he said at last. “Tit for tat.”

“Good.” She glanced at her watch. “You might want to call on that officer to collect your clothes. We’ve got a barbecue to attend.”

Liv hated this—officially. She wanted her own space, her privacy. She hated feeling threatened in her own home. She hated that she had to adjust to living with a man again just when she’d been finding some healing in solitude. But there was one tiny part of this that she wasn’t dreading, and that was having a good-looking boyfriend—fake as he was—to show off at that barbecue. She was tired of the pity and judgment. Maybe Aunt Marie would have less to say about her food choices if she thought that she’d already hooked another man.

Or maybe Marie would just chastise her for moving on too quickly. Whatever. It didn’t matter. Jack on her arm changed the balance of power around here, and for that small but significant fact, she didn’t mind his presence.

Let them talk—she wasn’t going to be Poor Liv anymore. She was going to be brave, outgoing, unfettered Liv with a muscular man by her side. And the gossips could choke on it.

* * *

JACK PARALLEL PARKED on the street where Liv indicated her aunt and uncle lived. The shadows stretched long and dark between telephone poles. This was an older section of town—small, boxy houses lined up in a 1950’s cookie-cutter paradise. Number 11, where Marie and Gerard Hylton lived, had a neat yard without a single leaf on the closely cropped grass, despite the large tree in the yard. It was immaculate.

“Your uncle is retired military, right?” Jack said.

“That’s right.”

“I can tell.”

Jack had changed into a pair of jeans with a leather jacket over a T-shirt. His aim was to at least try to fit in. Liv was wearing a long tartan skirt that skimmed over her hips and swirled around her calves paired with a black sweater that swept over her ample curves and looked so soft that his fingertips tingled with the desire to touch it. She knew how to dress her figure—always had that he could recall.

This was an excellent start to his investigation. When he’d texted the police chief with this opportunity to see the people closest to her, the chief had been optimistic, but he’d included advice—Watch who she confides in, if anyone. We don’t know how far this goes.

But Jack would have to be careful. He was posing as her romantic partner, and he needed to maintain some perspective. While it was good to keep the family from panicking and bounding into this fake threat, he needed some space to work and didn’t want them focusing on him instead. He had to slide under their radar. He was trying to keep a nice clear work space here...if that was possible in a place the size of Eagle’s Rest.

“Nervous?” Liv asked.

“Nope.” Jack pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“You should be,” she quipped, then opened her door and got out of the car.

“Why’s that?” he asked as he joined her outside in the evening chill.

“Because you’re about to tell the Hyltons that you’re dating me,” she replied with a low laugh. “And every single one of them is going to have a strong opinion about that.”

“For or against?” he asked.

She shrugged. “A bit of both, I imagine. But Hyltons are nothing if not passionate people.”

Her choice of words piqued his interest. Passionate, were they? He’d always suspected that under that polished veneer of hers there was some smolder—the kind that might get tugged along into an ill-advised plan for the sake of love. Or money. Or both. He glanced over at her, but she didn’t seem to catch the double entendre in her own words.

“They’ve got a fire going in the backyard,” Liv said.

“No time like the present.” He held out a hand toward her, and she hesitated.

“Oh, that’s right, look the part,” she said, and her cheeks tinged pink. She seemed so innocent and sweet like this—and he was going to have to be careful not to fall for his own undercover work.

“That okay?” He dropped his hand. “I’d just assumed. Or we could be a more distanced couple. That’s fine, too.”

The soft murmur of voices punctuated by laughter floated to them over the breeze, and Liv’s expression hardened. “No, you’re right.”

And she slipped her soft, cool fingers into his palm, shooting him a wary look. “I’m sick of their pity. I want to give them something a little juicier to talk about. But no kissing. And your hand stays at my waist and doesn’t wander.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He gave her a quizzical look. “I’m a cop, Liv. I’m not taking advantage.”

“Just making sure.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Okay, let’s go.”

As they crossed the road and headed around the house to the backyard, the voices grew stronger, and he could smell the savory aroma of cooking meat. The backyard was larger than he’d thought. A fire pit in the center crackled and popped. There was a large barbecue next to the rear door of the house, and light from the back windows glowed out onto the lawn. The door stood open, and a woman came out with a platter of burger buns but stopped short when she saw them. People sat around on lawn chairs with cans of pop and beer in their hands, and as Jack and Liv approached, they started looking up and taking notice. The chatter fell silent, and then a child’s voice rang out with, “Who’s the guy with Aunt Liv?”

That was the beginning of introductions. A few older men shook his hand very firmly—with enough strength behind their grips that they seemed to be trying to prove something. The older ladies smiled sweetly, murmured things into Liv’s ear and cast Jack some sidelong looks. There were a few younger couples who said hello and smiled appropriately, and a small herd of kids who were playing together and stopped to stare. All the while, Jack tried to survey the different groups and sort out who, if anyone, might have a more businesslike relationship with Liv than the others. The chief was right—if Liv was connected to her ex-husband’s affairs, it might be through other family members. Evan had been part of this family for ten years. There might be a few in-law relationships that deserved his attention. Families could be close—his sure had been. So he understood how those dynamics worked.

“The food is set out,” a plump older woman said, shooing them toward a folding table covered in Tupperware and casserole dishes. “Go get something now. Paper plates are in the bag on the seat, there...”

As they headed toward the food, Jack leaned in.

“Was Evan close to any of your family?”

Liv shrugged. “He got along with everyone. He used to hang out with my brother, Steve, when we visited.”

“Is Steve here?” Jack asked.

“Not today. He’s on duty at the fire station.”

A brother who was a firefighter, an ex-husband who was a cop... People didn’t usually link public servants who risked their lives for their community to fraud, but it happened too often. Firefighters and cops didn’t make a whole lot of money, and like anyone, financial pressure sometimes got to them.

“If Evan were harassing me,” Liv said, her voice low, “my brother wouldn’t be helping him. Trust me. Steve’s always been a protective big brother.”

And now she was protecting her brother. That piqued his interest, too.

“Is he married?” Jack asked. “Kids?”

“His wife is the pregnant one over there.” She jutted her chin in the direction of a blonde woman with a large belly sitting in a lawn chair by the fire with two small kids. They all had plates of food in front of them. She was chatting with some other women close by, interspersing her conversation with admonitions to the kids not to spill, or to sit back down.

“What about you?” she asked. “Siblings?”

Jack eyed her.

“Tit for tat,” she said with a small smile.

He smiled grudgingly. “Fine. Yes, I have two brothers. One is married with kids. They’re in Denver.” He’d been closer with his cousin Berto, though. They’d grown up together and had been closer in age.

“So you’re Uncle Jack.”

“I’m Uncle Jack. I’m good for cash on birthdays and rides in my cruiser. Those kids take way too much pleasure in the back of a squad car.”

Liv laughed, her eyes sparkling as she dished herself up some potato salad. “For you?” He held out his plate, and she gave him a spoonful. “Avoid the jelly salad. I don’t know what Bernice does to it, but it’s always off.”

Jack took her advice, looking up to see a thin woman in her early sixties approaching with a platter of fresh ribs.

“This is my aunt Marie,” Liv said. “Marie, this is Jack.”

“So you’re...a boyfriend, we assume?” Marie asked with a tight smile. This would be one who didn’t approve, apparently.

“That’s me,” Jack said. “Nice to meet you.”

“How long have you been together, exactly?” Marie turned her attention to Liv. “You’ve never once mentioned this man.”

“Eleven months,” Liv replied. She took some ribs onto her plate, and Jack followed suit. The food did look delicious. Marie’s gaze followed the food to Liv’s plate, then stayed fixed there, her lips pursed. Liv regarded her aunt for a moment, then handed her plate to Jack. “Hold this, would you?”

She licked off her fingers and then pulled her purse off her shoulder and started to rummage through it.

“It’s so nice that Liv has met someone,” Marie said, shooting Jack a smile. “What do you do?”

“I’m a cop. I just transferred to Eagle’s Rest,” Jack replied.

“And before this...?”

“I was in Denver.”

“Oh...” Marie looked at Liv, her eyes widening. He could see what was happening here, the subtle undermining of Liv’s fake good fortune. Every family had an aunt like this, and apparently, Marie was the Hyltons’.

“And yes, I know her ex-husband,” Jack said. This was the good part of them having some shared history—if word got back to Evan, it wouldn’t be inconceivable.

“Hmm.” Marie glanced down at Liv’s plate again, then said, “Dear, that potato salad has full-fat mayonnaise. Just thought I’d let you know.”

At that moment, Liv pulled a sheaf of papers out of her purse and handed them to the older woman.

“For you, Auntie,” she said with a bright smile. “I promised to print off those articles, remember?”

Marie swallowed, licked her lips and then thrust the papers back toward Liv. “I don’t need this.”

“They’re for you, anyway.” Liv winked, then took her plate back from Jack.

What was on those papers? Could Marie be involved, too? Jack and Liv walked together away from the table, against the tide of people moving in for fresh ribs.

“Sorry, that was kind of passive-aggressive,” Liv said as her aunt marched off. “She’s been hounding me about my weight, so I printed off some articles on dementia.”

Jack laughed softly. “You don’t say.”

“It’s better than stewing about it for the next month. One of us was going to walk away from this barbecue angry, and I was tired of it being me.”

Jack grinned and shook his head. She had spunk under all that sweetness, and some edge, too. Edge enough to be dangerous, he noted. Liv wasn’t the kind of woman who went down without a fight, and all the while, she was capable of a stunning, heart-stopping smile.

She was a wicked combination.