Chapter 1 Page 13

  I winced, remembering Butch’s accusations and his disdain for the Espositos. “It was just dinner. I don’t even know him. He stopped me this morning on my way back from the vet. For driving too slow.” I was digging myself in even deeper. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think I needed to tell you I was going out.”

  Berto eyed me suspiciously. “So you went to dinner with someone you didn’t even know? This policeman you’d never met before?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. His dark eyes bored into mine. “What was his name?”

  I hesitated, afraid speaking his name might conjure him up. Besides, it was none of their business. But after a few seconds, Berto’s commanding presence forced me to speak. Unlike Nick, Berto did seem like my father. “Butch,” I muttered. “Butch Justice.”

  The three of them exchanged knowing glances. Nick’s lip curled up in distaste. I wanted mine to follow suit, but when I tried, my lip quivered.

  Berto’s eyes were hooded, like Don Corleone’s. Judging from his looks, I half expected him to send me on my final ride. But first, he had a question he wanted answered. “Did this policeman say anything about us?”

  My voice cracked. “About you?” No way was I going to tell him Butch had intimated the Espositos might be involved in drug trafficking or illegal aliens. Why had Berto asked? “No, not a word.”

  Berto never broke eye contact. Did he think if he stared long enough, I’d fall on bended knee, tell the truth, and beg for mercy?

  It almost worked.

  My eyes welled up and two fat tears spilled out. I shook my head like a dog, hoping I could fool them into thinking my tears were raindrops. But when I raised my burning eyes to Nick, I could tell he wasn’t fooled. He surprised me by coming to my rescue. “That’s enough for tonight. Let’s get dried off and go to bed.”

  His words dissolved the tension. Berto exhaled heavily and his shoulders slumped. Carmen took hold of her husband’s arm and buried her head in his side. “Nick is right. Let’s go in, Berto.”

  I gave her a look of gratitude and did my best to look repentant. How was I to know they’d miss me, send out a search party? But I had to admit, it was a good feeling, being missed.

  Nick took me by the arms and pivoted me toward my door. “I’ll make sure she gets inside.” When Butch touched me, I’d cringed. With Nick, I had no desire to pull away. He opened my door and guided me inside. “Lock the door behind me. And don’t think of going out again tonight.”

  Before I could protest, he shut the door. When I didn’t hear him walk away, my hopes momentarily soared, thinking he would surely burst in and ravish me on the spot. I pressed my cheek to the door. Nothing, except the sound of his footsteps fading away. I sighed and twisted the deadbolt until it clicked into place.

  So much for any hope of comfort. I dragged myself into the bathroom, stripped out of my sodden clothes and towel dried my hair. Then I pulled on an old, extra-large T-shirt, and slid my frozen feet into my old bunny slippers. I imagined myself with Nick in some faraway place, standing atop the Eiffel Tower in Paris, having dinner in a small café in Italy, or even on a deserted beach somewhere.

  As I was turning down the bed covers, I heard a light tapping on the front door. I turned out the bedroom light and crept into the living room, hoping whoever it was hadn’t noticed the light go out. Had Butch come back to wreak vengeance for my hasty exit? Was he standing outside this very minute with a chainsaw dripping blood from the massacre of the Espositos? I tiptoed to the window, quietly lifted a slat in the blinds, and peeked through. With the help of the gaslight, I saw the dim outline of a figure standing on the porch.

  I grew weak, and my whole body began to tremble. I heard a metallic sound and looked down. The doorknob jiggled. I sucked in air and held my breath, certain I’d locked it. Then, it began to turn, ever so slightly. Could Butch have found a key?

  The deadbolt held. I began to breathe again. I couldn’t just stand there and let someone break in. I had to take action. I pretended I was Angelina Jolie. “Stand back! I’ve got a gun!”

  If Butch had come back, I hoped his weapon of choice was a chainsaw, not a shotgun. I didn’t want to be blasted into a million tiny pieces, so I moved to the side, just in case.

  “Wait! It’s me! Don’t shoot!”

  Nick?

  I turned the deadbolt and yanked open the door. Where was he? Then I saw him, hiding behind a potted hibiscus. Even in the dim light, his face looked pale.

  Once again I’d made a fool of myself. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?” I grabbed his shirt, pulled him inside, shut the door and locked it. I didn’t ask him to sit down. “Why were you trying to break in?”

  He caught his breath. “I wasn’t trying to break in. I was checking to make sure your door was locked and you were safe. What are you doing with a gun?”

  “I don’t have a gun. I hate guns. I was bluffing.” I used the dimmer switch by the door to turn a table lamp on low.

  Nick held his hand to his forehead and blew out some air. “Well, it worked! You sent me diving for cover. You know how to shake a guy up, don’t you?”

  “If I’d had a gun, I doubt that hibiscus would have helped.” I laughed. Freed from imminent danger, I recognized the absurdity of my actions.

  Nick wasn’t smiling. “Look, Julie. I came back for another reason. I want you to stay away from him.”

  I feigned ignorance. “Stay away from whom?”

  “From that policeman.”

  “Is that an order?” I know it didn’t make sense, because I had no intention of ever going out with Butch again, but I didn’t like Nick telling me what to do or not to do.

  “I’m serious, Julie. He’s not for you.”

  “So now you’re an expert on the kind of man for me?”

  Nick moved closer, cupped a hand on my shoulder and rubbed his thumb up the side of my neck. The quiver of desire between my legs made my ears buzz. “Maybe I am. Why can’t you trust me?”

  Oh, let me count the reasons. His blue eyes and the way my legs got weak when he was within twenty feet of me would do for starters. I’d resisted him for two weeks now, probably setting some kind of record. In another two weeks, I’d be home free. Free of him and free of being hurt again. If I could resist Nick Worthington, I could set my sights on someone who was husband material. It might not be Dr. Julie, Butch Justice, or Internet Joe, but I would eventually find the right man. This was, after all, the Chinese Year of the Dog.

  I backed away from him and his hand, crossed my arms, and raised an eyebrow. “How do you expect me to trust you when you keep secrets from me?”

  Nick tilted his head. “What secrets?”

  “Oh, don’t give me that look! You know exactly what secrets. The package in New Orleans, the feds who almost hauled us in, the—”

  “They didn’t almost haul us in. I explained all that—”

  “No, you didn’t explain it. You give me half answers or you say you can’t tell me. There was a gun in that package.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw it. Near the computer. In the same cardboard box.”

  Nick let out a deep breath. “Berto wanted a gun. He’s gone so much he thought Carmen needed protection. She found one advertised, wanted to surprise him, and I agreed to pick it up. That’s all.”

  “So why didn’t you just tell me?” I didn’t wait for his reply. “All right, answer this one, Mr. Honest. If you have nothing to hide, what’s so bad about my going out with a policeman?”

  Was it possible Nick was jealous?

  “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  I looked up at him without blinking. “Trust works both ways.”

  The old Julie would have let it go, given him the benefit of the doubt, and fallen into his arms without another word. But much as I wanted to, I knew if I did, I’d be letting someone down. Someone who needed more, someone who deserved better. Me.

  Nick’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he pressed his lips togeth
er as if to lock his words inside. I wanted to pry those lips apart and plump them back up with kisses so hot they would sear my brand into his playboy heart. Instead, I let him go.

  He turned, released the deadbolt, and shut the door behind him.

  I locked the door and grasped the arm of a nearby chair to stop myself from rushing after him and begging him to come back. After a few minutes I looked outside, but he’d gone for good. I shivered, but not from the cold.

  Nick and I were like those Scottie-dog magnets that repel, attract, or chase each other depending on which way they’re turned. Tonight we’d gone in opposite directions. But I could feel his magnetic field drawing me in. And each time, the pull grew stronger.

  Later, I lay in bed thinking about Nick just feet away from me, alone in his own king-sized bed. Why was finding love so difficult? Lust was easy and less complicated. I turned sideways in the bed, pressing myself against the headboard, hoping some heat from Nick’s body would penetrate the wall. But all I felt was cold, hard wood pressing into my soft, naked flesh. Long after midnight, I finally fell asleep.

  The next afternoon when no one was around, I slipped into the library to see if Internet Joe had answered my e-mail. He had.

  I had to act and I had to act soon. I would never find a husband at this rate. Besides, my attraction to Nick was like a tap root taking hold and growing deeper each day.

  I shot an e-mail back to Joe agreeing to meet him for lunch.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Carmen, but first I needed to apologize. She was sitting under an umbrella by the pool, reading. As I approached, she looked up from her book and smiled. I pulled up a chair and sat beside her, thankful for the shade. “Sorry I worried you last night. I didn’t think anyone would notice I was gone.” I felt like a teenager who’d been caught sneaking out of the house.

  “Of course, we noticed,” she said, puckering her mouth.

  I wanted to remind her I was thirty-two and not accustomed to accounting to anyone, but the fact was, I’d worried them. “I won’t do it again. Next time I leave, I’ll let you know.”

  “Water or Dr Pepper?” she asked, reaching into the ice chest beside her.

  “Water’s fine.”

  She handed me a cold bottle of spring water. Her fingernails and toenails were a freshly polished burgundy. I looked down at my own nails, ragged and unpainted. No wonder I couldn’t keep a man. But now I had a prospect. I waved a copy of the e-mail in Carmen’s face. “I did it. I found one.”

  Carmen looked surprised. “One what?”

  “A man. On muchas-dates.com. His name is Joe. We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow. Guess I’ll have to start calling you my personal matchmaker.”

  She broke into a big smile and laughed. “I charge ten percent.” She reached over and hugged me. “See, I told you. What’s he like?”

  “All I know is he likes dogs and movies.”

  Carmen’s eyes danced. “That’s wonderful! What does he look like?”

  “From his photos, he looks okay.” I snickered. “He’s got a round smiley-face, kind of like the emoticon. I’m not looking for Brad Pitt, you know. Husbands don’t have to be handsome. I’m looking for someone who’s affectionate, friendly, devoted to me…”

  Carmen closed her eyes and sighed. “You’ve already got a dog.” She placed her book on the table and leaned forward. “Tell me more. Are you excited?”

  I took a swig of water. “Ask me again after our date.”

  “Where’s he taking you?”

  “We’re meeting. At the Cotton Patch.”

  Carmen drew her head back. “The Cotton Patch? That’s not a very romantic place to meet your future husband for the first time.”

  “I’m not looking for romance. I’m looking for marriage.”

  She wiped her forehead on a towel, though she needn’t have bothered. On her, sweat looked good. “Well, it could be worse…I guess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Beats Burger King.”

  ****

  I ran through the woods trying to elude chainsaw-wielding lunatics. My house in Abilene materialized before me, and I raced inside, slammed the door and twisted the knob on the deadbolt. Then I ducked behind a potted plant and closed my eyes. Outside, the crazies chanted: “Brains, brains.” They pounded on my door, calling my name. “Julie, Julie. Wake up, Julie.”

  I opened my eyes, thinking I was in my bed back home in Abilene. The clock on the bedside table said nine a.m. I jerked up. The banging on my door was real, but it was a woman’s voice calling my name. Carmen. Something must be wrong. She was never up this early.

  “Just a minute,” I called, trying to clear the fuzz from my brain. Grabbing a pair of shorts I’d draped over a chair, I pulled them on under my baggy T-shirt. “I’m coming!”

  Carmen’s face was swollen with sleep, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Her robe was wet at the hem where it had dragged on the ground. She staggered in, but before I could shut the door behind her, Nick appeared. Great. All I needed now was for Berto to show up.

  Nick wore nothing but a pair of jersey pajama bottoms. His chest was muscular and tanned from his morning runs. “Hey. What’s going on? I heard someone pounding on the door.” My eyes were drawn to a fine line of soft brown hair that ran downward from his navel to the drawstring of his pants. My face turned hot as a jalapeño. I looked up, and when my eyes met Nick’s, my senses all shifted into overdrive. Good thing my T-shirt was big because my nipples begged for attention.

  Carmen seemed unaware of the electrical current crackling the air between Nick and me. “The thunderstorm the other night must have knocked your phone out. Your sister just called. It’s Philip.”

  I grabbed Carmen’s arms. “What do you mean?” My knees buckled, and I would have fallen, taking her down with me, if Nick hadn’t moved quickly and caught me around the waist.

  He swept me up into his arms as if I were weightless. “Let’s get her on the couch.” He smelled fresh, like cucumbers and alfalfa. He gently laid me on the sofa and placed a pillow under my head. Then he knelt beside me and smoothed the hair back from my face.

  Carmen lowered herself to the floor beside him. “Oh my. I didn’t mean to scare you. Your sister said it was an accident, and he’s fine, but he’s having surgery this morning. Not an emergency, but the doctor said he needed to do it as soon as possible because,” she hesitated, “he is in some pain.”

  Fear stabbed my heart, and I bolted upright. Nick moved from the floor to the couch, his warm thigh pressed against me.

  I needed to know more but dreaded the answer. “What happened?”

  Carmen clasped her hands. “It’s his DSL, but they can fix it.”

  I leaned forward, holding my head between my hands. Mrs. Malaprop had nothing on Carmen when it came to getting words mixed up, and this was not a good time. My voice came out high and panicky. “His DSL? Is it his liver? His kidneys? What did she say?”

  “Your sister said you’d know all about it with your medical background and all.”

  “Was he hit by a car?”

  “No. She said he was running. Just running. No car.”

  Nick interrupted to serve as translator for Carmen. “Did she say ACL by any chance?” He shifted his body and put an arm around me. I leaned into him, as if closer contact would allow me to draw from his strength.

  Carmen anxiously rocked back and forth. “That’s what I said! His ASL. She said it broke. But don’t worry. Your sister said he would be fine. The surgery will take a couple of hours. She said she’d call back when it’s over to let you know how he’s doing, but I told her you needed to be there when he wakes up.”

  I tried to think straight. No cars. Just running. Suddenly changing direction, his knee wrenched sideways, the ligament popping. An ACL injury was not a dire emergency, though I would like to see the little guy. But time was running out for Carmen, and we still had work to do if Noche and Blanco were going to “graduate.”

  With Nick’s
hand now rubbing my back, I could barely concentrate. “If it’s his ACL, I really don’t have to be there. I promised you a month. Noche and Blanco need more practice.” I leaned into Nick’s hand, my eyes half-shut.

  Carmen stood up and stomped her foot, jolting me wide awake. “No way, José! Your place is with Philip. He will need you by his side.”

  She was right. I did need to be with him. I wanted to be with him. “Okay, but I’ll come back tomorrow. As soon as I know for sure he’s all right. Let me get dressed, and I’ll come up to the house and call Sarah from there and order a rental car.”

  Carmen wagged her finger at me. “No car. Nick will be happy to fly you back. Won’t you, Nick?” A big smile creased her face when she looked at us. I suddenly realized I was plastered against him like a heat patch. I sat upright and straightened my clothes.

  Nick smiled. “Don’t mind at all.”

  Had to give the guy credit. No matter how much I discouraged him, he kept coming back for more. When I looked into his blue denim eyes, my heart pounded and all the warning signs went up. Guys like Nick were like temporary spare tires, good enough to make it to the next station, but unreliable for the long haul. But under the circumstances, I couldn’t pass up the offer.

  Carmen stood and threw up her arms. “Good. Then it’s all settled.”

  Nick grinned. “At last, I get to meet Philip.”

  ****

  When I talked to Sarah, she assured me Philip was in good hands and said she’d pick me up at the airport. I showered and threw a few things in a tote bag. Carmen offered to e-mail Internet Joe to let him know I’d been called out of town unexpectedly. An hour later, Nick and I were in the air. I insulted him shortly after takeoff by saying I didn’t need a babysitter when I got to Abilene, so we talked little except for some cursory comments on the weather. No way was he going to “meet Philip.”

  Two more weeks. Half my mission accomplished. Noche and Blanco were becoming model students, and if Carmen continued the way she was going, the Espositos could share another twenty-five years of wedded bliss. Once I got back to Waco, I’d ratchet up my husband search. Nick had been an interesting diversion. Eye candy.