Читать книгу Her Lawman Protector - Patricia Johns - Страница 12
ОглавлениеLIV TOOK A bite of the tangy potato salad and heaved a sigh of contentment. Marie, for all her faults, was a great cook. Her potato salad not only had full-fat mayonnaise, but she added a dab of Dijon mustard and diced pickles for flavor, and a bacon crumble on top. Not bacon bits from a plastic shaker, but actual fried, crumbled strips of bacon. If Marie was so concerned about calories, she only had herself to blame.
Liv watched as Jack took his first bite.
“Man, this is good,” he said.
She smiled. “Marie makes this potato salad for every family gathering, but she never eats a bite. Such a waste, in my humble opinion.”
“For sure.” Jack took another large bite. “Mmm. Wow. So—” He glanced around, swallowing. “Anyone here who might have a bit of a grudge? Or a connection to your ex?”
“A connection?” Liv shrugged. “Every last one of them. He was part of the family.”
Jack was eyeing her with an odd directness, and when she met his gaze, he turned his attention to his plate and took another bite.
“You’re convinced this is Evan,” she clarified after a moment of silence.
“Call it a hunch.”
“I don’t believe you,” she retorted. “What’s this based on?”
“I don’t like him.” A small smile turned up the corners of Jack’s mouth, and for just a moment, his eyes glittered with humor.
Liv chuckled. “That’s it?”
“He’s cocky, and he doesn’t seem to have the same guilt mechanism the rest of us have,” Jack replied. “Do you have a better guess?”
Liv shook her head slowly, doubt creeping into her mind. “No.”
Could it be Evan? It didn’t seem right. He had no reason to bother her. He had what he wanted in Officer Hot Pants. Jack knew more than he was letting on—she was willing to bet on it. Still, the memory of those photos in the box gave her an involuntary shiver. Whoever was threatening her—be it Evan or someone else—she wanted to know who and why. The mystery only made it feel more daunting than it probably was.
Or was she only trying to convince herself of that? At the very least, if she had someone in her life with a weird grudge against her, it was probably better to know.
Across the grass, Liv’s cousin Tanya was taking a photo of Aunt Beth and Uncle Herb in the low late-afternoon sunlight. The couple leaned in toward each other and smiled brightly. The flash went off, Tanya looked at the screen on the back of the camera and the older couple came in to have a look, too. Then they scooted back to their previous position, smiled again—a little less brightly this time—and lowered their chins. The flash went off, and they came around to look at the screen again.
“So...” A voice hummed at Liv’s shoulder, and she turned to see her uncle Gerard. He still looked the part of the drill sergeant, even in shorts and a T-shirt.
“Hi,” Liv said with a smile. “How are you?”
“Fine. Care to introduce me?”
“Uncle Gerard, this is my...” Police escort? Bodyguard? The lying didn’t come easily to her. “This is Jack.”
“Jack.” Gerard nodded and extended a hand, and the men shook. “So you’re dating our Liv, are you?”
“Looks that way.” Jack smiled back cordially. “You’re Gerard Hylton?”
“The one and the same.”
“Marie’s husband,” Liv said.
Jack looked down at his plate, newly scraped clean, and back at Gerard. “Lucky man. Your wife is a great cook.”
Gerard wasn’t easily placated by compliments about his wife. Marie drove her husband crazy.
“I’ve heard you’re police,” Gerard said brusquely.
“I am. I’m a detective—I just transferred to town.”
“We’ve done that before—the whole cop-in-the-family routine,” Gerard said. “It didn’t go well for Liv. We’re not keen for a repeat.”
Jack’s eyebrows went up, and Liv suppressed a moan.
“Uncle Gerard, we’re not that serious. You can stand down,” Liv interjected.
“Evan seems a little too interested in our land, if you ask me,” Gerard went on.
“Honestly, Uncle, you’ve got to let that one go,” she said with a sigh. Evan had offered to buy Gerard and Marie out when they were attempting to retire in Arizona. And Gerard could be touchy.
“And I don’t care if your ex is personal friends with Mayor Nelson,” Gerard went on. “He could be hobnobbing with the president for all I care. That land isn’t for sale.” Gerard’s laser glare didn’t waver away from Jack. “You cops take care of your own. Well, we Hyltons do the same.”
“So you aren’t a fan of Evan Kornekewsky,” Jack said.
“What do you think?” Gerard barked.
Liv put a hand on her uncle’s arm. “Be nice!”
“I thought I was,” Gerard retorted, then he sighed. “Marie is waving at me frantically. She’s afraid I’ll say something harsh.”
Liv shot Jack a grimace, and Uncle Gerard reached over and gave Liv’s arm a squeeze. “You look great, by the way, kiddo. Go get another plate.”
She’d always liked Uncle Gerard. He was Marie’s complete opposite. In some very good ways the couple complemented each other, and in other ways, they were a lot alike. Big hearts, big mouths and even bigger opinions. Gerard headed back toward his wife, leaving Liv and Jack in momentary peace.
“Sorry,” Liv said with a wince.
“Don’t be. I like him. He’s honest.” Jack’s squint followed her uncle. “So what’s this about Evan and land?”
“A misunderstanding,” she replied. One she still hadn’t forgiven her ex for, because he’d tossed her into the middle of it.
“Care to elaborate?”
“There’s not much to tell,” she replied, and she heard the stiffness in her own tone. She was still processing a whole lot of anger, apparently.
“And the mayor?” Evan asked with a frown.
“This is a small town,” she said, relaxing a little. “It doesn’t mean the same thing it does in Denver. Trust me.”
Jack eyed her for a moment, then shrugged.
“I need more of that potato salad,” he said after a beat of silence.
“If you were actually dating me, you wouldn’t like my uncle half as much,” Liv said, following him toward the table. Evan had detested her uncle. They’d sparred at every social event, and her uncle had glowed victorious when Evan finally proved himself the lowlife that Gerard had suspected all along.
“You’ve had boyfriends who complained?” Jack asked.
“I’ve had a husband who complained,” she retorted.
Jack was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “I like who I like.”
Not that it mattered. In a few weeks, she’d have to tell them that Jack was nothing more than security anyway and hope that the drama of all those threats overshadowed the more pathetic truth about her relationship to this hunky cop. Uncle Gerard’s bravado was for nothing.
“Liv, how are you?” Tanya said, and Liv looked up to see her cousin approaching, camera in hand.
“Hi, Tanya.” Liv tried to smile. She loved her cousin, but the more people she had to lie to about Jack, the worse she was going to feel.
Liv made the introductions, and Tanya and Jack shook hands.
“So...this is new!” Tanya said with a wide smile. “Liv sure can keep a secret. I’m serious. I mean, she’s normally pretty closemouthed about stuff, but this is crazy! How long have you kept him under wraps?”
“Almost a year,” Liv said with a wan smile. She’d been thinking about how good it would feel to rub some fake relationship into Marie’s face, not Tanya’s. This felt like collateral damage—a family relationship that would suffer because of these untruths.
“Almost...” Tanya’s smile faltered, and Liv saw the hurt in her cousin’s eyes. “What? That long?”
“With her divorce and everything, she wasn’t sure if she’d even like me,” Jack supplied.
“Well, it’s not my business,” Tanya said with a forced smile. “Obviously.”
Liv sighed. “Tanya, you and I need a coffee. When are you off work?”
Tanya and her mother ran a local deli together—it was a family affair.
“I have tomorrow morning off,” Tanya replied.
“Perfect. How about at ten, at the place on the corner?”
“Okay.” Tanya glanced down at the camera in her hand. “I’m putting together a photo album for Grandma for Christmas this year. All the couples and families and all that.”
“That’s a great idea,” Liv said, then suppressed a sigh. She’d have to follow through with appearances on this, too, it would seem. Just great—a photo of Liv beaming adoringly next to some guy she was pretending to date. She was going to have a really hard time living all of this down!
“Look, I’m not upset,” Tanya said, lowering her voice. “I’m just surprised. In fact, call me jealous! You’re on your second cute cop, and I always did like a uniform. What can I say?”
Liv laughed softly, then Tanya brightened.
“Let’s get you two over here by this tree,” Tanya said, nudging Liv over a few feet, then grabbing Jack by the arm and arranging him next to her.
Jack looked down at Liv with a mild expression of alarm. Maybe he was sensing the same thing—a photo gift for Grandma was taking this charade a little far.
“Put your arm around Liv’s waist, Jack,” Tanya ordered, looking through her camera, then she popped back up above it. “Jack—pull her in, come on! I’ve had old people look cozier than the two of you.”
Liv glanced up at Jack, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. She’d intended to be more pulled together than this... She’d wanted to lose the family’s pity, hadn’t she? But it was one thing to hold this man’s hand and quite another to slide into his arms. Should she call this off? Send Tanya over to some other couple? Before she could decide, Jack’s warm, broad palm slid around her waist and he tugged her closer against his muscled side. She fit right under his chin, and he stood behind her slightly, the sandpaper of his jaw resting against her hair.
“Oh...” she breathed. This wasn’t...terrible. It was nice, actually. Uncomfortably nice.
“That’s better!” Tanya said, lifting her camera once more. “Liv, loosen up, lean into him a bit.”
Liv turned her head toward Jack and smiled for the camera. There was a click.
“Perfect.” Tanya beamed. “Do you want to see it?”
Liv and Jack leaned over to see the end result, and Liv was stunned. Tanya had a way with photography, but it was more than that—she and Jack looked really good together. He had a darker complexion compared to her creamy paleness. And the way he’d pulled her into his arms accentuated his bulging biceps. She was used to feeling bigger than her dates—even than her husband! But in this picture, she looked nothing but soft and feminine next to Jack’s latent strength.
“Nice,” Liv said, her voice sounding a little strangled in her own ears.
“Right?” Tanya grinned. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ve got to go make Gerard and Marie look loving.” She made a face. “Jack, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
Tanya headed off with a wave, and Liv looked up at Jack nervously.
“You didn’t have to be quite so convincing,” Liv said, brushing a tendril away from her face.
“She dared me. What can I say?” He shot her a roguish smile.
“My grandmother has dementia, so I can’t even explain this one to her and have her understand the humor behind it,” Liv retorted.
Jack winced. “Sorry.”
“Whatever. I’ll talk to Tanya tomorrow morning and get her to delete the picture.”
“You sure you want to do that?” Jack asked. “You looked really good.”
“I always look really good,” Liv shot back. “Whatever. We knew this would be eggshells, right?”
“We knew it,” he agreed. “Besides, if I were a real boyfriend who didn’t work out, there wouldn’t be any shame, would there?”
“No, but eventually, they’ll all hear the truth, and I’d rather they didn’t pull up that photo to stare at when they do. I’ll look...pathetic.”
“You couldn’t look pathetic. You’re gorgeous.”
“Fine, then I’ll feel pathetic.”
“That’s fair,” Jack agreed. “So how long are we staying?”
“We’re leaving now.”
“Is there time for more of that potato salad?” Jack hooked a thumb toward the bowl that was already half empty.
“No.” She shot him a baleful glare. “You’ve caused enough trouble.”
Jack scooped her hand up in his and pulled her close again, grinning down at her with a low laugh. “All right, Ms. Hylton. Time for our exit.”
Jack was playing a part—smitten boyfriend. That’s what she’d asked for, wasn’t it? But she hadn’t expected to find herself falling into her role, too. The sooner they caught whoever was threatening her, the better. Because any more of this, and she’d find herself enjoying her fake boyfriend a little too much!
After some goodbyes and some lame excuses about a prior engagement, they headed back toward the car. She’d leave her extended family to gossip about her behind her back.
It sure beat Poor Liv.
* * *
THAT EVENING, JACK sat at Liv’s tiny kitchen table, feeling in the way. Liv’s apartment was small, so the kitchen table was on the far side of the living room, and from where he sat, he could see into the kitchen on one side, and then through the living room to the bathroom and bedroom.
Not a lot of privacy, he realized ruefully. He was the one crashing into her personal life, so it wasn’t really his place to be looking for some space to himself, but this was a decidedly feminine apartment. Everything smelled faintly of lavender, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how. But it did.
There were some pillar candles standing on a decorative plate on one side table, and under the window there was a radiator with some women’s delicates draped over it—drying, no doubt. It was either a slip or a nightgown—a silken ivory color that shimmered in the soft light of a nearby lamp. He felt out of his element here—an obvious intruder into her personal space. Women were different creatures, and Liv was somehow more feminine than he was used to.
Liv stood in the kitchen making a pot of tea. She bobbed a metal diffuser in a teapot and then hooked the end over one side.
“Do you want sugar?” she asked.
“Sure.” What he actually wanted was a strong cup of coffee, but yeah, whatever.
Jack was in a bit of a bad mood this evening already. He’d done his part and acted the doting boyfriend, but this case was going to be harder than he’d thought. Liv’s family were a complicated bunch, and they’d take a bit to untangle. Then there was Liv herself. She was too soft, too pretty, and reminded him a little too strongly of the things he was missing in his life. And he didn’t want to take the lid off that.
Liv deposited a brimming teacup in front of him—gold-rimmed and floral. It looked so delicate that he was half afraid of crushing it. She sent him a fleeting smile, then sank into the chair opposite him. She buried her nose in her own teacup—similar to his, but with different-colored flowers—and took a lingering sip.
“Hmmm...” She sighed. “This is good.”
Jack lifted his own cup and took a sip. It was piping hot and sweet, but other than that, tasteless to his palate. He took another sip, then let his gaze move around the apartment.
“Tell me more about your family,” Jack said, pulling his attention back to the woman across from him. “Tanya...she’s your cousin, you said?”
“Yes, my father’s sister’s daughter,” Liv replied. “We grew up together, Tanya and I. We’ve always been close.”
“How did she feel about your divorce?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. She was shocked—just like everyone else. They didn’t see it coming. Evan and I put up a really good united front, so when I said we were splitting up... Well, you can imagine.”
“So she was against it?” Jack probed. “On his side? On yours?”
“On mine, of course,” she said.
“Where are your parents? I didn’t see them—”
“In California.” She smiled faintly. “They’re retired, living in their RV.”
“Hmm.” He nodded slowly.
“So my turn, then,” Liv said, leaning forward. “Tell me about your brothers. Brotherly dynamics are always interesting.”
He sighed. It wasn’t wise to share too much personal information, but every case was a unique job, and Liv was making this one harder than it had to be. “Do we really have to do this?”
“Yes.” She took another sip of tea, but her gaze didn’t leave him.
“Fine. One’s an accountant and the other is a plumber.”
She nodded. “Are you close?”
“Yeah, we’re close. I was closer to my cousin when I was a kid, though. My brothers are both younger than me, so I hung out with my cousin.”
“Like me and Tanya,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess.” He could understand her close relationship to her cousin. Kids were lucky to have family to grow up with.
“So your cousin—what’s his name?” she asked.
“Berto. He’s, uh—” Jack gave her a pained smile. “We aren’t in contact anymore.”
“Why not?” Sympathy swam in those green eyes, and she leaned toward him so that her soft perfume tickled his nose.
“He associates with known criminals, so as a cop I have to keep my distance,” Jack replied gruffly. Would that be enough to make her back off? Berto had a criminal record of his own, so it went deeper than he was about to admit. But keeping his distance didn’t mean that Jack wasn’t hell-bent on setting a few wrongs right.
“You must miss him,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, I do.”
“How did you turn out so differently?” she asked. “You’re obviously in a better place.”
“We both grew up poor in the projects in Denver,” he said. “Berto got caught up with the wrong people, I guess. I can’t say I was making better choices than he was. Maybe I was just lucky.”
“You chose to join the force,” she countered. “That’s a positive step.”
“Berto might have, too, given the chance,” he replied bitterly. “He was arrested the first time when he was barely fourteen. Drug possession. But I’m telling you, Berto never touched heroin in his life. Back then, Berto and I said we wanted to be rich when we grew up. But rich meant something different to us than it meant to anyone else. Our biggest dreams were to move out of those crumbling old apartment buildings, get away from the drug dealers, and get houses with real yards and driveways. We wanted to take care of our parents and siblings. We wanted our mothers to quit those low-paying jobs that ground them down.”
“You were sweet kids,” she said softly.
“We were poor kids. We had no power, and neither did our parents. Berto ended up like too many of our friends.”
“How is your mother now?” Liv asked.
“I take care of her and Dad,” he replied. “No worries there.”
Jack was stupid to be giving her any information about his family at all. What was it about her? Just talking with this woman made him want to open up. It felt good to let it out, and she listened so easily without judgment. But the more she knew—the more she could pass along to whoever else was working this ring—the more vulnerable he became. She made him feel out of his depth in a whole new way, which meant it was time to shut up.
“Enough about me now. Let’s move on to you,” he said with a small smile. “Are there any boyfriends, exes, casual love interests that I should be aware of?”
She shook her head. “I’m still licking my wounds.”
“Fair enough. How about your store?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How is it financed, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“With a loan, like everyone else.” She put her cup down onto the saucer with a soft clink. “I’m hoping to be able to make enough profit to pay it off one day. Bookstores have such big competition with online sellers, but there is just something about being able to flip through a book, hold it, look at the other options on the same shelf... I’m hoping to capitalize on the tourist traffic.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I get it.”
“Anyway, I’ve dreamed of owning a bookstore for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, I used to make books of my own with paper folded in half and a stapler. Then I’d set them up for my own bookstore.”
“So why do it now?”
“Because I needed something for me,” she said. “I’ve been cut loose, and I need something that reminds me of...me.”
Her connection to the place did seem genuine. Jack’s gaze moved to the kitchen windowsill, where a collection of books sat between two bookends. They didn’t look like cookbooks, either.
Liv followed his gaze.
“Just some kitchen reading,” she said.
“Kitchen reading.” He chuckled. “Like what?”
“A few classics—some Charles Dickens, some Shakespeare, a book on chess strategy.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I’ve always liked Dickens. While I wait for pots to boil, I reread some of my favorite parts.”
“I was more interested in the chess strategy,” he replied.
“Oh, that.” She rose and went to the windowsill, plucking out the volume and handing it over to him. “Evan used to play chess, but I stopped playing with him after a couple years of marriage.”
“Why?” Jack flipped through the book—it was thick and looked very involved.
“He’s a bad loser.” She shrugged. “He’s also a cocky winner. It wasn’t good for our relationship either way.”
“So why the interest in chess now?” He clapped the book shut. “If it were me, I’d hate the game, just for bad associations.”
“I don’t know.” A small smile came to her lips. “A girl likes to know she could win, if she were pressed.”
Was she being pressed? That was the question. Did her ex-husband have her in a corner, or did she wield more power than he thought? She was a woman who reread the classics while she cooked and used her spare minutes to learn chess moves. She was daunting.
“How good are you at chess?” Jack asked.
“Better than I look.” She met his eye with a cool smile. “And better than Evan thinks.”
“So you play for spite?” he asked.
“No, I play to win.” She shrugged. “There’s something about a well-performed strategy that leaves your opponent in the corner. No moves left. Only then realizing what you’ve done to him.”
That was ominous, and it reminded him a little too closely of the people who had been pressured into selling their family homes...they would have realized too late, too.
“It’s getting late,” Liv said after a moment. “I should really get ready for bed.”
“Sure. You don’t need to entertain me. I’m here on a job.”
Liv rose and glanced around. She seemed to spot the slip on the radiator, because she hurried across the room and snatched it up. When she looked back at him, she looked embarrassed.
“Sorry about that,” she said.
“It’s your home,” he replied. “Don’t apologize for anything. I’m not a guest here, Liv.”
She tucked the slip under her arm and headed for a cupboard. She pulled out some sheets, a blanket and a pillowcase.
“I don’t have any more bed pillows,” she said. “But we could cover a throw pillow with this pillow case, and you should be comfortable. I think.” She grimaced. “No one visits me.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Liv licked her lips. “I normally take my shower at night. If you wanted yours first—”
“Liv.” His voice came out as more of a bark than he’d intended, and he softened his tone. “I’m not a guest. Do what you would normally do, okay? I’m fine.”
She pulled a hand through her auburn waves. “Okay. If you insist.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and a few moments later the water came on with a rattle. Jack distracted himself by making up his bed on the sofa. He made his bed at home with military precision, and he did his best to replicate that job here. The sofa was too short, but he’d make do. He noticed that even the sheets had that soft, floral scent about them.
It was all very diverting from the case that he’d rather be thinking over, as was the sound of the shower through the shut bathroom door. He was a man, after all, and Liv was a very beautiful woman. Her divorce hadn’t dampened any of her natural spunk, and he wished it had. If she were a little less radiant, maybe he could focus better on the work at hand.
Instead, as he spread the blanket on top of the sheet, he was remembering what it felt like to pull her close for the camera. She felt just as good in his arms as he’d imagined back before he’d realized she was tied up in Evan’s mess.
The water in the bathroom turned off, and Jack glanced around the living room, his gaze moving over a bookshelf, an ottoman that had a hinged lid for storage and her closed bedroom door. If she had something to hide, where would it be?
The bathroom door opened, and Liv came out with a billow of steam. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel, and the rest of her ample curves were draped in a white terry cloth robe that she held shut with one hand at her throat.
“Done,” she said, shooting him a smile.
She looked different in her robe—her face clean of makeup and her eyes all the more entrancing without the liner and mascara. She looked younger this way, softer. She was barefoot, and he noted that her toenails were painted hot pink. And he liked it.
“The towels are on the rack in the bathroom,” she said, heading toward her bedroom and opening the door. “If you’re hungry, feel free to raid the fridge. You’re guarding my life—it’s the least I can offer.”
Her lips turned up in a smile and she slipped into her room, then turned back. “Good night, Jack.”
His name on her lips sounded sweet, and he gave her a curt nod because it was all he trusted himself to do. He wasn’t faking to be her boyfriend here in her apartment. Here, he was a cop, and he needed to remind himself of that. Her big, dewy eyes, her lips, the milky whiteness of her skin—none of that was his business here. And for all he knew, she was working it to keep him distracted.
The bedroom door closed with a decisive click and Jack let out a pent-up breath. He was hoping he could sleep at all.
