Книга - Do You Take This Cop?

Do You Take This Cop?
Beth Andrews


Without the badge, he'd be perfect!The last thing Faith Lewis needs is a cop poking his nose in her business. Okay, yes, Nick Coletti is gorgeous. And charming. And great with her son. But dating the town's most popular boy in blue is hardly going to help her keep a low profile. This guy could blow their world apart if he discovers her secret.Funny thing is, he may also be her only hope. If she had someone like Nick on her side, maybe she could finally be free, and give her son the life he deserves. But trusting Nick means telling the whole truth about her past. He might protect them. Or he just might turn her in….









She could do this


All she had to do was remain in character. Be polite, say “hello” and act as if she wasn’t, at this very moment and every moment, terrified of someone—especially this someone—finding out her secret.

Resigned, she slowly faced Britney’s older brother. She couldn’t deny Nick Coletti was good-looking with his wavy dark hair, bittersweet-chocolate eyes and Roman features. He wore a snug, dark blue Police Academy T-shirt and faded jeans; a tool belt hung low on his narrow hips.

Her neck heated as she realized that not long ago, she would’ve been all over him. Thank goodness those days, and the person she used to be, were both long gone.




Dear Reader,

This book came as a total surprise to me. I’d already written three stories set in fictional Serenity Springs, New York, featuring connected characters, and I honestly thought all the stories in that town had been told.

I was right. But I was wrong, too.

You see, in my previous book, His Secret Agenda, there’s a short scene featuring a nondescript woman. A woman on the run from her powerful, abusive husband. A woman with secrets. A woman who lies as easily as she breathes and who’d do anything to keep her young son safe from the man who’d hurt him. A woman I had to write about.

But I knew Faith Lewis couldn’t stay in Serenity Springs, so I said goodbye to the town I’d come to love and ventured east to another small town, this one on the coast of Maine, where Faith and her son could have a fresh start. Where she could learn to overcome her mistakes.

Although I hadn’t planned on writing this story, I sure had a great time doing it. Faith and her hero, local cop Nick Coletti, don’t have an easy time of things but once they earn their happily-ever-after, everything they went through to get there was worth it.

I hope you agree and enjoy Faith and Nick’s story!

I love to hear from readers. Please visit my Web site, www.bethandrews.net, or write to me at P.O. Box 714, Bradford, PA 16701.

Beth Andrews




Do You Take This Cop?

Beth Andrews





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Award-winning author Beth Andrews never fell for a cop while on the run but she did date her non-cop husband while attending cosmetology school. Though she only worked in a salon for a short time, she’s kept up her stylist’s skills over the years by cutting her bangs (always a mistake) and coloring her hair in a never-ending battle against grays. Beth also loves to bake and is currently obsessed with finding the perfect red velvet cake recipe. To learn more about Beth, her books or to check out some of her recipes, please visit her Web site, www.BethAndrews.net.


For Helen.

Thank you for all your love and support!




CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE




PROLOGUE


NOT GUILTY.

The blood pounding in her ears, Lynne Addison stared blindly ahead as the judge thanked the jury and dismissed the case with a pound of his gavel. Lynne jumped, the sound echoing through her head.

At the table in front of her, her husband, Miles—the man she’d thought would make all of her dreams come true—gave his female defense attorney a hug before shaking his other attorney’s hand.

“Oh, thank God,” Sondra Wilkins said from the bench seat beside Lynne. Miles’s secretary then stood and hurried over to congratulate her employer, the man she idolized so much she was willing to do anything for him.

Even destroy evidence and lie under oath.

The courtroom erupted with movement around Lynne as people collected their things and left to enjoy the rest of a warm spring afternoon. She forced herself to turn, to look over at the chubby, light-haired eleven-year-old boy across the aisle. He stood next to his distraught grandmother while she spoke to the two detectives who’d gathered the evidence against Miles.

Lynne had overheard one of the members of Miles’s defense team remark on how unusual it was for a child—especially the accuser—to be present when the verdict was read. But she understood why the boy was here.

He’d wanted to see justice done.

At the bleak, dead look in his eyes, a primal scream rose in Lynne’s throat. She dropped her gaze to her hands, twisted tightly together in her lap, and clamped her lips shut. Damn it, if that poor boy was strong enough to survive not only being sexually abused by someone he’d trusted, but also the horror of having to testify about the unspeakable things Miles had done to him, then by God, she’d be that strong, too.

She had to be. For her own son’s sake.

Not guilty.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Miles asked as he approached her, his blue eyes shining.

She curled her nails into her palms. From all outward appearances, Miles was perfect. Handsome. Successful. A man who shared his time and talents with those less fortunate. A successful businessman devoted to her and their young son, Jon.

“Lynne,” he demanded in an undertone only she could hear as he kept his grin firmly in place, “I want you to congratulate me. Now.”

Lynne got to her feet, her legs shaking, her stomach churning as she stepped into her husband’s outstretched arms. She put her arms around him, her hands still fisted as he kissed the top of her head, his fingers digging painfully into her waist.

She shivered.

He stepped away, a look of concern on his face. For the people around them. “Honey, are you all right?”

“Actually…” She cleared her throat. “I’m not feeling very well.”

“Can I get you a glass of water?” Allison Martin, the head of Miles’s legal team, asked.

“No. Thank you. I…I think it’s all just…catching up with me,” she said weakly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just take a moment to…freshen up.”

“Let me walk you to the restroom,” Miles said, touching her arm. She forced herself not to shrink from him.

“That’s not necessary. Why don’t I meet you in the car?” Before he could answer, she walked away, making sure to keep her movements unhurried as she went out into the wide hallway.

Inside the ladies’ room, she rushed into the last stall, not even able to latch the door before nausea overcame her. Falling to her knees in front of the toilet, she retched, emptying the meager contents of her stomach. When she was done she flushed and, trembling from head to toe, got to her feet and stumbled out. Gripping the edges of a sink, she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair fell past her shoulders, the professional highlights like strands of sunshine in the honey blond. Despite the sweat beading on her forehead her makeup was perfect, her sedate herringbone pencil skirt and matching fitted jacket were high quality, her shoes and bag worth more than most people made in a week. She looked exactly like what she was. A rich man’s wife.

Just what she’d always wanted to be.

She washed her hands, then snatched a few paper towels from the dispenser and soaked them in cold water. Pressed them to her face, careful not to smudge her makeup. Miles wouldn’t like that. Especially today.

He’d told everyone justice would prevail, that he’d be found innocent of the horrific charges leveled against him.

He’d been right and wrong. Because justice hadn’t prevailed. The jury hadn’t believed Miles had sexually abused that boy. They’d bought the defense’s claim that these allegations were a last-ditch effort on the boy’s mother’s part to extort money from Miles. To the jury, to everyone in their circle, Miles was a saint who’d been railroaded by the system and a confused young boy. They saw him as the victim.

But Lynne knew the truth.

She tossed the paper towels into the garbage, then cupped her hands under the running water and brought them to her mouth, rinsing out the acrid taste. She’d had such high hopes that Miles would be punished, that he’d be sent to prison, and she and Jon would finally be able to escape him. Her control shattering, she slid to the dirty floor.

Now they’d never be free.




CHAPTER ONE


FAITH LEWIS LOVED HER SON more than life itself. But honestly, if he whined at her one more time, she was going to duct tape his mouth shut.

“Why can’t I stay home by myself?” Austin asked sullenly from the passenger seat. “I’m not a baby.”

Then why are you acting like one? And worse, why had she reverted to thinking like a nine-year-old herself? She bit her tongue and strangled the steering wheel. If she’d learned one thing over the past twelve years, it was self-restraint.

Thank God she’d learned something, right?

She pulled into the municipal parking lot half a block down from Brit’s Snips and shut off her car.

“It’s not fair,” he continued, crossing his arms, his green eyes shooting daggers at her. “I’m almost ten—”

“Last time I checked,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt, “your birthday was eight months away.”

He flipped back his brown hair. If he’d let her give him a trim, he wouldn’t have to keep jerking his head like that.

“But why do I have to come to work with you?”

She pushed her sunglasses back on her head. “We’ve talked about this before. So many times I might as well put it on a recording and push Play the next time you start in on me.” And he would. Her son was nothing if not stubborn.

Like the color of his eyes, he got stubbornness from her. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating. They’d had this conversation every day since school let out two weeks ago. It was going to be a very long summer.

“It’s not like I’m gonna start the house on fire or something. Why can’t I stay by myself?”

“For all the reasons I’ve already explained.” Plus a few she’d kept to herself, such as her fear of coming home only to discover him gone. Tossing the keys in her purse, she opened the car door. “Now, I’m already late for work and you are about one more word away from losing your video-game privileges. Do you understand me?”

Scowling, Austin sank farther down into his seat. “Yeah,” he muttered.

She raised an eyebrow—yes, just like her own mother used to do when Faith was little. This day kept getting worse. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, yes, ma’am.”

Unlike her mother—who would’ve boxed her ears—Faith ignored the way he rolled his eyes. Hey, she didn’t expect him to like having to toe the line. She’d done plenty of things in her life because she’d had to and not because she wanted to.

She stepped out into the bright sunshine, her lightweight shirt clinging to her skin. But that had more to do with her frantic morning than the unusual June heat wave, in the mid-eighties for three days straight.

Heat wave. If the people of Kingsville, Maine, thought this was hot, they should try spending a summer in a cramped trailer with no air-conditioning down in South Carolina.

It’d melt their Yankee brains.

“Run down to Reynolds’ Mart,” she said, handing Austin a ten dollar bill, “and buy yourself something for breakfast.”

“Okay,” he said eagerly.

“Don’t even think of buying any boxed pastries, doughnuts and/or muffins. And avoid anything frosted, sprinkled with extra sugar, fried or carbonated.”

His face fell. “What am I supposed to eat then?”

“How about some yogurt? And some fruit?”

Austin made a gagging noise. “Yogurt is gross. It’s like eating cold snot.”

Faith grimaced and slid her purse onto her shoulder. “Thank you for that visual.”

“What if I got a breakfast sandwich? It’s all healthy and stuff.”

Sure it was. Eggs, cheese and sausage on a buttermilk biscuit. Her arteries hardened just thinking about it.

But the past had not only taught her self-restraint, it’d also taught her which battles were worth fighting. And wheeling and dealing with her son in the middle of downtown Kingsville wasn’t one of them. Not when she was already two hours late for work.

“You can get the breakfast sandwich as long as you get some milk to go with it and a piece of fruit.”

“You take the fun out of everything.”

“Well, it is my sworn duty as your mother to make your life as miserable as possible. So glad to hear I’m doing a good job.”

He rolled his eyes again but his lips quirked as he walked away.

She watched him as he went to the corner, looked both ways and crossed the street. A man in a dark business suit, his cell phone to his ear, approached Austin from the other direction. Faith clutched the strap of her purse. Austin, keeping his head down like she’d taught him, moved to the inside of the sidewalk and picked up his pace.

The man didn’t give him a second glance. Exhaling, Faith put her sunglasses back on and walked off in the opposite direction. But she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over her shoulder and checking on Austin.

Twice.

He needed to do things on his own, as much as feasibly possible, anyway. The store was only two blocks away. Austin was smart, responsible and more careful than a nine-year-old should ever have to be. And she’d chosen this coastal town as the place for their new lives because of the small town’s quaintness and charm.

But mostly she’d chosen it because it was safe—and hopefully the last place anyone would think to look for them.

And yet she still wouldn’t take a full breath until her son was back in her sight.

Fighting her natural instinct to keep to herself, Faith nodded and greeted people she passed as she hurried toward the salon. She knew how to play the game. All she had to do was be friendly. Normal. Act her part so the people in town wouldn’t wonder. Wonder where she and Austin came from. Why they’d moved here four months ago.

Who they were.

Faith pushed open the door to Brit’s Snips and stepped inside the air-conditioned building. The salon’s owner, Britney Coletti, was at the back lowering a dryer over the tin-foiled head of a client. Removing her sunglasses, Faith’s jaw dropped at the sight of her boss.

Britney had gone country today. She’d tamed her long, dark corkscrew curls into two fat braids. The low-cut brown vest and frayed micromini denim skirt showed ample amounts of her toned, tanned body. She leaned over to speak to her client and Faith winced and quickly averted her eyes. That flash of Brit’s lady bits was more than Faith had ever wanted to see.

Faith tugged at the hem of her own baggy top. She wasn’t a prude—far from it. Before she got married at the naive age of nineteen, her clothing had veered toward tight, skimpy and just this side of trashy. For the younger woman’s sake, she just hoped a preference for tacky clothing was all Britney had in common with the person Faith used to be.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Faith called over the low hum of the dryer. “Did Mrs. Willit mind rescheduling?”

“I got ahold of her and booked her for later in the week.” Britney grinned, her nose wrinkling adorably. “It’s all good.”

“Well, I appreciate you taking care of it. And I’ll make it up to you somehow,” Faith said as she went behind the counter and skimmed a finger down the appointment book. She still had fifteen minutes until her next appointment.

“Did you get ahold of the plumber?” Britney asked as she joined her.

“He’s working over at that new motel outside town so he’s busy until Friday.” Faith tucked her hair behind her ear. She and Austin would be without hot water for a while yet. And she didn’t even want to think about how much the plumber was going to charge.

She clutched the counter until the nausea passed. She’d brought this on herself by deciding to become a home owner rather than just renting a house. After all, what better way to hide than in plain sight? It’d taken her close to a year but she’d managed to save enough to buy her and Austin a whole new life, complete with birth certificates, social security cards and a credit history. It’d been worth every penny. By purchasing a house and becoming a full-fledged citizen of Kingsville, she was thumbing her nose at the people looking for her.

And proving she was ready to stay in one place longer than a few months.

“You can’t live without hot water for that long,” Britney exclaimed, as if Faith had admitted they’d be sleeping in the car a few nights. Which, sad to say, they’d had to do several times.

Faith hefted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

Her stomach growled. When she’d gone down to her basement this morning to throw in a load of laundry, she’d been met with at least two inches of water. She hadn’t had time for even a cup of coffee let alone anything to eat.

And while she might hand over a few dollars to feed her son, she wasn’t about to waste money on herself. Especially since they’d have to buy lunch because she hadn’t had time to pack it.

“I’m going to put my stuff away,” she said. “If my ten o’clock gets here early, could you let me know?”

“Of course.”

In the break room Faith tossed her bags on a chair and groaned as the unmistakable scent of coffee reached her. She headed straight to the coffeepot on the counter by the sink, but stumbled over something. She frowned down at a metal toolbox in the middle of the floor.

Hopping over the damn thing, she poured herself a cup of sanity.

Cup in hand, Faith stepped back over the toolbox and crossed to the mini fridge. Her choices were limited to half a ham-and-Swiss sandwich from yesterday or strawberry yogurt. Cold snot, hmm? She chose the sandwich.

As she chewed, the knots in her shoulders dissolved. At least the worst was over. It had to be. Her day couldn’t possibly get any crappier.

She heard the back door open. “Hey, Faith.” A familiar masculine voice. “How’s it going?”

She viciously bit into her sandwich. There went her theory, blown all to bits. Guess she shouldn’t have tempted fate.

All she had to do was remain in character. Be polite, say hello and act as if she wasn’t, at this very moment and every moment, terrified of someone—especially this someone—finding out her secret. Resigned, she slowly faced Britney’s older brother.

There was no denying Nick Coletti was good-looking. That is if you liked tall, broad-shouldered guys with wavy dark hair, bittersweet-chocolate-colored eyes and Roman features. Her tastes had always run toward men in designer suits over ones in snug T-shirts, faded jeans and a tool belt hanging low on narrow hips.

Too bad she’d also chosen men based on the size of their bank accounts instead of what kind of morals they had.

“I’m fine,” she answered, sounding as prim as her husband’s uptight secretary. “And you?”

He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. “Couldn’t be better.”

So what if his smile did funny things to her? All that proved was that she was female. She hung her head so her hair hid her face as she fought for composure. What made her a nervous wreck was that, instead of a tool belt, the man usually wore a holster and badge.

“Great,” she mumbled, squeezing the sandwich out of shape. Reaching over to tear off a paper towel, she knocked the roll over. Nick caught it in one hand before it hit the floor.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, handing it to her. “You seem a bit—” her skin prickled under his scrutiny “—flustered.”

Yes, he’d flustered her. How crazy was that? Used to be a time when she flustered men.

She ripped off a towel and wiped the mustard from her thumb. As long as she kept her cool, he’d never suspect he put her on edge. She set the towels back on the table and crushed the used one in her hand before rewrapping the rest of her sandwich and putting it back in the fridge.

And damn him for making her lose her appetite when she wouldn’t have a chance to eat again for another three hours. “I’ve had a…hectic morning.”

He nodded and twisted open a bottle of water. But even as he drank, his eyes didn’t leave her. She calmly returned his gaze.

Let him stare. It wasn’t as if he was interested in her. With her mousy hair and shapeless blue top and white, wide-legged cropped pants that made her curvy, hourglass figure look at least ten pounds heavier, she hardly turned men’s heads.

When she’d decided to become Faith Lewis, she’d ditched the colored contact lenses and fake glasses she’d used as a disguise for the past three years, but had kept the drab hair color and baggy clothes. It wasn’t much but it made her feel safe. Even if she would rather shave off her eyebrows than wear another pair of mom jeans.

Sometimes you just had to suck it up and do whatever it took.

Because nothing, and no one, was going to destroy the life she and Austin were building in Kingsville.



NICK COULDN’T QUITE figure Faith out. She was pretty enough with her light green eyes and shoulder-length chestnut hair, but she sure was a jumpy thing. He’d gone out of his way to be friendly, not only because she worked for his sister but because she and her young son were new in town. But each time they ran into each other, she was as uneasy as the first time they’d met.

“I’d better go,” she said, edging past him. No surprise there. She usually left a room as soon as he walked in.

Faith’s escape was ruined, however, when she tripped on his toolbox.

He grabbed her to keep her from falling. Her body went rigid and she pulled away from him. “You all right?” he asked.

“Fine. I should’ve watched where I was going.”

But when she took a step, he saw her wince. He crouched in front of her. “Did you twist your ankle?”

He raised his eyebrows as he noticed her shoes for the first time. High-heel wedged sandals with crisscross straps—the better to show the bright pink polish on her toes. They were girlie, sexy and totally inappropriate for someone who stood on her feet all day.

Nick touched her ankle to check for swelling. She inhaled sharply and sidestepped him. “I just stubbed my toe. Which wouldn’t have happened,” she said pointedly and, if he wasn’t mistaken, irritably, “if you hadn’t left your toolbox in the middle of the floor.”

“You’re right.” He shoved it against the washing machine. “I ran out to my truck and wasn’t thinking.”

“You should be more careful.” She helped herself to more coffee. “If I can’t work, I can’t support my son—or help your sister build her business.”

He straightened and shoved a hand through his hair. “Is that something they teach you at Mom School?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That.” He gestured toward her. “The whole guilt thing.”

She nodded slowly. “It’s an advanced course for those who have passed Nagging 101 and the Art of Saying ‘Because I Said So.’”

He fought a smile. He’d had no idea she could be such a smart-ass. “I’ve always suspected there was some sort of secret mom society.”

“I’m sorry, but if I admit any more, they’ll take away my membership.”

And then she did something she’d never done before. At least not in front of him. She smiled. But it quickly faded.

“I have to go,” she said, before walking away.

Faith Lewis sure was a puzzle. He tapped his fingers on top of the dryer. It seemed like ego, but most women were not in a hurry to get away from him. Damned if he couldn’t resist a puzzle.

“How’s Austin doing?” he asked, stopping her in her tracks. “He enjoying his summer?”

She took her time turning back to him. Something made it impossible for her to be rude enough to walk away when he was talking to her.

“Austin’s fine,” she said.

He leaned against the washing machine. “He’s what? Ten?”

“Nine,” she said, looking toward the door.

Yeah, he shouldn’t enjoy this so much. But then again, he was a cop, not a saint. “I remember that age. Summer couldn’t come soon enough, didn’t last long enough and there was always too much to do.”

“He’s keeping busy.”

“He making friends? Adjusting to the new town?”

“He’s…shy. He wasn’t in school long enough to buddy up with any of the kids, but I’m sure that’ll change once it starts again.”

“If you want, I could introduce him to a few of my nephews. I have one his age and—”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’s no big deal. And Trevor’s a great kid.”

“I’m sure he is but—”

“Mom!”

Faith’s face went white. She whirled around as Austin came rushing into the room, his hair matted down with sweat, his face red.

“What happened?” Kneeling, she gripped his shoulder with her free hand. “What’s wrong?”

The panic in her voice made Nick step forward, his heart picking up speed.

“The new X-Men comic is on sale,” Austin panted, bending at the waist. “Can I get it? Please? It’s only four dollars.”

Faith sagged in relief. “The way you came barreling in here, yelling like that,” she said, running an unsteady hand over her son’s hair, “I thought something had happened to you.”

“Sorry. I have to hurry back because there’s only one copy left. Mr. Silvis said he’d hold on to it for me as long as I came back before lunchtime.”

Faith rubbed her temples. “Mr. Silvis is just going to have to wait a few minutes. I hope you didn’t run through the salon—”

“No, ma’am,” Austin said, with such a guilty look Nick knew for damn sure Austin had barreled through the place as though his ass were on fire.

“And,” Faith continued, “I can’t help but wonder if you left your manners back at Mr. Silvis’s store, since you haven’t even said hello to Mr. Coletti.”

“But, Mom, I have to—”

Faith gave him The Look. A shiver crept up Nick’s spine even though The Look hadn’t even been aimed at him. But it was a powerful tool, one perfected by mothers throughout the centuries to keep their kids in line. Hell, his mother had given him The Look last week. You couldn’t outgrow it.

“Hi, Mr. Coletti,” Austin said quickly. Nick nodded in greeting and Austin whipped around to face his mother again. “So? Can I get it? Please?”

“We’ll see.”

Austin’s expression darkened. “That means no.”

“It doesn’t mean no. It means I’ll think about it.”

“Why can’t you tell me now? Please, Mom. Please, I really want this one. And I promise, I won’t ask for anything the rest of the week. Or even the rest of the summer. Or you could take it out of my birthday present or…or I could pay you back. Maybe I could mow Mrs. Sugden’s yard again or walk her dog or—”

“Austin,” Faith snapped, glancing at Nick before leading Austin over to the corner.

Nick didn’t even bother pretending he wasn’t observing their every move. Watching her collect herself was so fascinating.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said, “but with the water heater breaking, a comic book’s not in the budget this week.”

The poor kid sort of…deflated. As crushed as if someone had sold his prized baseball card collection at a garage sale for a quarter of its value.

Like Nick’s sister Kathleen had done during his first year at college.

“Yes, ma’am,” Austin murmured, blinking fiercely.

Nick clenched his hands. Not his concern, he assured himself as he shut off the water to the washing machine. Or his business. Faith had been distant around him since they’d met. No sense making waves with his sister’s employee by sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Austin sniffed and Nick tipped his head back and exhaled.

He was going to have to help the kid out, after all.




CHAPTER TWO


FAITH HAD BEEN GEARING UP for Austin to give her a hefty dose of snark about not being able to get the comic book, and instead, her baby had taken the news in stride.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said, deliberately ignoring the dark, silent man in the room. She brushed Austin’s hair off his forehead, but let her hand drop when he jerked away. “Maybe you can get the next issue.”

Austin shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Damn,” Nick muttered.

She and Austin both turned and saw him staring at his toolbox, his hands on his hips.

“Sorry,” he said when he caught them watching. “I just realized I don’t have any quarter inch pan head screws and…” He scratched his ear. “Hey, Austin, maybe you could do me a favor?”

“That depends on what it is,” Faith said.

“I need those screws but I’m already behind fixing this…” He jerked a thumb at the washing machine. “Could you run down to the hardware store and pick them up for me? If it’s all right with your mom.”

Austin looked at her. The back of her neck prickled. “But isn’t the hardware store at the end of Main Street?” she asked.

“Yeah. At the corner of Kennedy and Main.”

Six blocks away. Even if Austin ran there and back, he’d be gone at least twenty minutes. More than likely, with the way he ambled along, he’d be gone over half an hour. Anything could happen to him in that time.

In the act of pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, Nick paused. “If you don’t want him crossing the street…”

“I can cross by myself,” Austin said with all the offended pride someone under double digits could muster. “Can I, Mom? It’s not like I have anything else to do, anyway.”

She was stuck. Stuck between not wanting her son to do something as innocuous as walking down the street, and the cop looking at her as if she was a few rods short of a perm. “I…I suppose it’s okay.”

“I appreciate it.” Nick handed Austin a ten dollar bill. “A hundred of them should be less than five dollars, so why don’t you keep the other five?”

Faith stiffened and edged around so that she stood between him and Austin. “That’s not nec—”

“I insist.” Nick’s eyes on hers were steady, his expression innocent. “He’s doing me a favor and he should be compensated for it.”

Austin tugged on her arm. “Can I, Mom? Please?”

Why did he have to look so excited? So…hopeful?

Worse, why did she have to feel so guilty? She got no enjoyment out of denying her child something as small as a comic book, especially after she’d grown up going without so many things.

“Did you eat your breakfast?” she asked.

Austin nodded vigorously. “I even ate a banana.”

She forced a smile, surprised her face didn’t crack. “Well, then, I guess it’s okay.”

“Really?” Austin asked breathlessly. “So, can I get the comic book?”

“It’s your money. You can buy it if you want to.”

“When you get to the store,” Nick said, “tell Marsha I sent you. She’ll have my order ready.”

“Okay.” Austin shoved the money into his pocket but didn’t miss the way Faith raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, yes, sir.”

“I’ll call her and let her know to expect you.” He took his phone out and walked over to the washing machine as he dialed.

“Be careful crossing the street,” Faith told Austin.

He squirmed in embarrassment. “Mo-om.”

“Yes, I’m lame and overprotective and I’ve said all of this before. Humor me. Don’t stop in any other stores besides the hardware store and bookstore and—”

“Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t get into the car with a stranger.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not a baby.”

“Maybe not, but you’re still my baby.” She supposed it was natural for a boy his age to be disgusted by someone calling him a baby. But that didn’t mean she had to like his expression. “I just want you to be careful.”

“I will be.”

“I’ll expect you back within thirty minutes,” Faith said. “Got it?”

“Got it.” He flicked a glance over his shoulder and, seeing Nick’s back was turned, puckered his lips and accepted a quick peck from her.

“Don’t run through the—”

Austin raced off. She prayed he wouldn’t crash into anything in the salon. Such as a customer.

She dug through her purse and, as soon as Nick hung up his phone, stalked over to him. “Here.”

Frowning at the five-dollar bill she held out, he stuck his phone in his front pocket. “What’s this?”

“It’s the money you paid my son to run an errand you didn’t even need done.”

His eyes were hooded, his expression blank. And to think at one time she used to be an expert on reading men. Either she’d lost her touch or he excelled at the whole stoic thing.

Probably the latter. After all, weren’t all cops emotionless robots? The ones she’d dealt with were.

“I don’t want your money, Faith.”

Yeah? Well, she didn’t want to give it to him, but more than that, she didn’t want him to worm his way into her son’s life with money. “Take it. Please,” she insisted.

He held it as if it were a live rattlesnake before tossing it on top of the washing machine. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“You stuck your nose into my personal business,” she said before she could censor herself. “I’d prefer you didn’t involve yourself in something that’s between me and my son.”

“I wasn’t involving myself in anything,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t stepped over a line. “I needed some screws, he needed some cash.”

She clasped her hands behind her back. “You’re changing the hoses.” Keeping her tone unfailingly polite just about killed her. “All you have to do is shut off the water, disconnect the hoses and connect the new ones.”

“You moonlight as a plumber?”

She gritted her teeth. “It’s not rocket science. Austin could do it. But he wouldn’t need any pan head screws, that’s for sure.”

Nick unhooked one hose from the wall. “I need the screws for something I’m doing later.”

“No. You don’t. You overheard me tell Austin he couldn’t have something he wanted, and you thought you’d swoop in and save the day like you do with everyone else.”

He shot her an irritated glance. “You have no idea what I do with everyone else.” He let the end of the cold water hose fall on the tile floor. Water dripped out and made a small puddle. “We’ve seen each other at least once a week for the past few months and this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

True. And she couldn’t wait for it to end.

“Every time I so much as say hello, you act wicked nervous,” he continued. “If I did something to—”

“You didn’t.”

He grinned. “Good. Because seeing as how we’re probably going to run into each other quite often—and considering that you’re working for my sister—why don’t we try to at least be friends?”

She narrowed her eyes. Did he really think he could charm her into believing he was the type of guy who did nice things for people out of the goodness of his heart? She didn’t care if he was considered around town to be a prince among men. She didn’t trust him.

And even if she did, they couldn’t be friends. She didn’t have any friends.

So what if she got lonely? Or that there were times when she wondered if she could do it all alone. Raise Austin. Keep him safe. Keep their secret. But the decision she’d made when she’d left New York meant she didn’t have a choice now.

“We can’t be friends,” she blurted.

For some reason, that only seemed to amuse him. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you.”



NICK’S SMILE DISAPPEARED. Didn’t like him? What the hell? Everyone liked him. Just ask around.

“Maybe if you weren’t in such a hurry to get away from me,” he claimed irritably, “you’d learn to like me.”

“I don’t like you getting your hero worship fix from my son.”

“Hero worship?” He clenched the wrench he still held, and gave it a backhanded toss into his toolbox. Faith jumped when it hit the handle with a loud clang. “Funny how we’ve barely spoken, and yet you have no trouble coming up with a shitty opinion of me.”

“You had no right to involve yourself in my personal life—”

“I wasn’t trying to stick my nose into your business.” He hated losing control, even for a moment. “Austin seemed upset…”

“Sad to say, life is full of disappointments. And while I don’t relish the idea, Austin is going to have to deal with not always having things go his way.” She dumped the rest of her coffee into the utility sink and rinsed out the cup, her movements jerky.

“I was trying to help.”

“I didn’t want or need your help. You don’t need to befriend the struggling single mother. I’m not one of your sisters.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re at their beck and call.”

He scowled down at her. “Lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Let’s see…” She gestured toward the washing machine. “You’re here, on what I’m assuming is your day off…?”

She paused and looked at him expectantly. What else could he do? He nodded once and she continued. “And what are you doing on this gorgeous morning? You’re changing water hoses.”

“They needed to be replaced and—”

“Yes, they did, but Britney could’ve done it.”

“Britney can’t tell a wrench from a screwdriver.”

“If you’d teach her how to take care of things herself, she wouldn’t have to have someone ride to her rescue all the time.” Though Nick had at least five inches on Faith, she somehow managed to look down her nose at him. “I didn’t want or need your help with Austin. What I want is for you to keep your nose out of my business.”

“So you’d rather have your pride than accept a helping hand every once in a while?”

She flushed, but he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. “I don’t need your charity.”

“You think I don’t understand what it’s like for Austin, sitting here while you work? How bored he is?” Nick clamped his lips shut. The last thing he wanted was to open up to her about how he knew exactly how the kid felt. Not when she obviously thought so little of him.

His mother might not have dragged him to work with her, but she had left him at home in charge of his sisters. There were plenty of times he’d had to put his needs second.

But he hadn’t minded having to quit baseball so he could be home to watch Britney after school, or that he didn’t get a video-game system when he was fourteen because they’d needed new snow tires for the car. He had a responsibility to his mother and sisters—the same responsibility Faith Lewis felt for her son. Family did for each other. So why did she think his favors for his sisters were anything different?

“I thought Austin would like something to read to pass the time,” he continued. “But if I was out of line, I apologize.”

Then, because he didn’t care one way or the other if she accepted his apology, he went back to the washer. Kneeling, he unscrewed the hoses from the back of the machine. Water dribbled onto his hands and he wiped them on his jeans. After a moment, he heard the sound of her footsteps as she walked away. Too bad she’d left her soft floral scent behind.

How the hell had she twisted his simple gesture into something to be pissed about? He pinched the bridge of his nose. Even after being surrounded by females his entire life, he still found them a mystery.

“Ms. Garey wants you to come out when you’re done,” Britney said as she entered the room. “Her niece is visiting next week and she was wondering if you’ll take her out.”

“I’m busy.”

“I didn’t even tell you what days she’ll be here,” Britney said. “Oh, and Ms. Garey wanted me to remind you of how she let you retake some English final your senior year so you could graduate with the rest of your class instead of suffering the humiliation of summer school.”

He grabbed the new hoses, viciously tightening the connection for the cold water one. “Blackmail is illegal.”

“Hey, you’re the cop. You tell her.”

Nick tilted his head to the side. Why him? He was a decent guy. What had he done to deserve this? “Is this the same niece she set me up with a few years back? The vegan?” He connected the hot water hose. The wrench slipped and he whacked his knuckle. Pressing his lips together against the pain, he shook his hand. “Because I’ll tell you right now, I’m not eating one bite of her tofu casserole or whatever it was she cooked up for me the last time.”

“Take her to the Wave Runner. She can get the all-you-can-eat salad bar.”

“And spend the night listening to her lecture me about eating lobster? No thanks.” He stood and dropped the dripping hoses into the utility sink. He grimaced when he finally saw his sister. “What the hell are you not quite wearing?”

“Now, Nicky, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m a grown woman and I can dress however I want.”

The headache that had started when Faith ripped into him intensified. “True. But I’m pretty sure I can write you up for indecent exposure. Aren’t you supposed to wear that vest over something? Like a shirt?”

She adjusted the hem of her top. “For your information, Michael likes the way I dress.”

And the last thing he needed to hear was how his baby sister’s latest unemployed, stringy-haired, dumber-than-Nick’s-firearm boyfriend liked her to show lots of skin. “I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that. Toss me a towel, will you?”

Britney handed him one from the dryer, then leaned against the washing machine while he sopped up the water on the floor and put his tools away. “If you had a steady girlfriend, you wouldn’t have to go out with the mean old vegan.”

He locked his toolbox and stood. “No.”

“Why not? Faith is sooo nice and she’s smart and funny and—”

“And she’s off her rocker. She’s also mighty ticked off at me, so even if I was interested—which I’m not—I don’t think you’d be able to convince her we’re destined to be together.”

“What do you mean, she’s ticked? What did you do?” Britney asked suspiciously.

He folded the towel and laid it on top of the washing machine. “What makes you think I did anything?”

“Now, don’t get all sensitive.” Britney poured a cup of coffee, added creamer and handed it to him before getting a bottled water out of the fridge. “Come on. Spill.”

He quickly filled her in.

“That doesn’t sound like Faith,” she said thoughtfully. “Although she is very protective of Austin. Maybe she was just worried about him going that far on his own?”

“Maybe,” Nick conceded. But he had a feeling whatever had set Faith off was more than that. His cell phone rang. “Coletti,” he said after opening it.

“Nicky,” his sister Andrea said, “please tell me you’re not busy.”

He turned his back on the new hoses. “I’m not busy. What’s up?”

“Marie called. Isaac’s sick. Marie thinks it’s chicken pox.” Their sister Marie ran the day care center Andrea’s two kids, five-year-old Isaac and two-year-old Dana, attended. “He needs to be picked up, but I can’t get away from work until two-thirty and Tuesdays Steve is at his Brunswick office and—”

“And you need me to go get Isaac.”

“If you don’t have any other plans,” she said in a rush. “I’d really appreciate it.”

So much for meeting a few buddies for an afternoon golf game. “No problem.” He wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear and shoved the washing machine back in place. “Tell Marie I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Nicky.”

“Isaac’s sick,” he told Britney after he hung up. “Marie thinks it’s the start of chicken pox.”

“I told Andrea she’d regret not getting those kids vaccinated.”

“Her choice.” He picked up his toolbox.

“Wait.” Britney grabbed his free wrist. “You can’t go until you’ve made up with Faith.”

“Hey, even though I didn’t do anything wrong, I already apologized.” He’d figured, correctly, it would be the easiest way to get her to lay off.

“Great. Now you two can put this behind you—”

“Are your braids too tight?” The last thing he needed was some high-strung, antagonistic woman in his life.

“Fine.” Britney flipped one of those braids over her shoulder. “But you’re making a mistake by giving up. You and Faith would be great together. Don’t forget, I inherited Great-grandma’s sight.”

“The only thing you inherited was a tendency to overdramatize situations.”

He took it back. She must’ve also inherited their Nonna’s ability to skewer a man with one dark look. “I was going to make you chicken parmigiana for fixing the washing machine,” Brit said with an indignant sniff, “but just for that, all you’re getting is a thank-you card.” She then whirled around on the heel of one of her cowboy boots and sashayed out of the room.

Nick shut his eyes. God, please save me from the women in my life.

Amen.

He hoped Britney listened this time. She’d been after him to ask Faith out ever since she’d first hired her. What Brit wasn’t aware of was that he’d given in and had invited Faith out to dinner a few months ago. An invitation she’d quickly and politely declined.

He didn’t need to be told no twice.




CHAPTER THREE


TEN MINUTES AFTER FAITH got home from work that evening, the phone rang. She remained where she was, staring into the refrigerator, hoping she might find inspiration for dinner. “Austin, can you get that, please?”

The second ring ended abruptly. “It’s for you,” Austin called from the living room.

Shutting the refrigerator, she grabbed a washed apple out of the bowl on the table and headed into the other room. From his prone position on the sofa, Austin held the phone out, his nose buried in that blasted comic book.

For about the hundredth time that day, she felt guilty over not letting Austin get the comic in the first place. She was so very tired of feeling guilty all the time. But she doubted she’d get any reprieve, seeing as how her list of sins was so damn long.

Like forcing Austin to leave his prized comic book collection behind two towns ago. Which was what happened when you took off in the middle of the night as if the devil himself were after you.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly who they were running from. And he would never stop searching for them.

She bit into her apple, then took the phone, holding the mouthpiece against her stomach as she chewed and swallowed. She swatted the tops of Austin’s sneakers with the back of her hand. “Get those dirty shoes off my couch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not looking up from the comic as he toed his shoes off onto the floor.

Faith pursed her lips and gave him her best Mom stare until he lifted his head. “What?” he asked.

“Put your shoes away,” she said around another bite.

“But I just got to the good part.”

She nodded toward his shoes. “Go.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes.

She lifted the phone to her ear as someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Austin said, rushing past her.

“Check to see who it is first,” she reminded him, then said into the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Britney said. “Now, promise you won’t get mad…”

Faith watched Austin move aside the curtain covering the door’s window. “That is so not a good lead-in.”

Whoever knocked must not be a stranger, because Austin undid the dead bolt and opened the door.

“You’re right,” Britney admitted, “and you can be mad, but remember, I’m doing this because I want to help you.”

“I don’t suppose that help involves an idea of what to cook for dinner using half a pound of ground beef, two carrots and some stale saltines?”

“Uh…no. Sorry. But this is better,” Britney promised. “I got you a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.” Faith bit into the apple again as Austin stepped aside, giving her a clear view of her doorstep. She inhaled sharply and coughed to dislodge a piece of apple from her windpipe. “Never mind,” she choked out. “It’s here.”

“Already? He was supposed to give me time to prepare you first.”

Phone still at her ear, Faith walked over and stood behind Austin, who tipped his head back to look up at her. “Mr. Coletti’s here,” he said.

“I can see that.” She made the mistake of meeting Nick’s unflinching, cool gaze. In her stomach, it felt as if a baby bird was about to take flight. “Why don’t you put your shoes away and then set the table for me?”

“Are you talking to me?” Britney asked.

“Now why on earth would I ask you to put away your shoes?” Faith said.

“Well, I did leave them by the door…”

Faith smiled and shook her head. “I was talking to Austin. Just…hold on a minute, would you?” She nudged Austin’s shoulder.

“Bye,” he told Nick.

“See ya, Austin.”

She waited until her son was out of earshot. “Britney says you didn’t give her time to prepare me.” Still holding the phone to her ear, she kept her other hand on the door frame, blocking his entrance to her home. Her sanctuary.

If he didn’t get the message she didn’t want him here, he wasn’t as bright as she’d given him credit for.

He set his toolbox on the blue-painted wooden porch. “Should I come back later?”

“Tell him not to go anywhere,” Britney demanded. “Even if you’re mad at him—”

“I never said that.” She bit into her apple. Hey, she hadn’t eaten anything since she’d tried to finish her leftover ham sandwich hours earlier. She was too hungry to worry about crunching in someone’s ear.

“He told me how you got upset about him paying Austin to run an errand.”

Her face heating, Faith leaned against the doorjamb. As soon as she’d walked away from Nick that morning she’d known she’d been out of line. But her fear that he’d been trying to somehow get close to her son by giving Austin something he wanted so badly had overridden her good sense.

“And now he’s standing on my porch with a toolbox at his feet because…why?” Faith asked.

“I asked him to look at your water heater.”

“I’d hate to put him out,” Faith said, straightening.

Nick hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. She squeezed her apple so hard, she half expected to wind up with sauce on her hands.

“He might be able to fix it, which will save you from having to pay a plumber—a plumber who might not even get to it for days. If Nick can’t figure out what’s wrong, he’ll collect his tools and go home. No harm done.”

No harm done? The harm was having Nick Coletti in her house, in her personal business.

“Crap,” Britney said. “Michael’s beeping for me. I have to go. Just let Nicky look at it, okay?”

She hung up in Faith’s ear.

“What’s the verdict?” Nick asked, as if he couldn’t care less one way or the other what she decided.

“I’m not sure why Britney asked you to come over—”

“She’s got a big heart. It’s her greatest weakness.”

“And you’re enabling that weakness?”

“I have a hard time telling her no. Besides, she laid it on thick, told me how much she’d consider it a personal favor to her….”

“She guilted you into coming over here?”

“She’s good at convincing people to do what she wants,” he said, so solemnly that Faith blinked. “She thought if I helped you with your water heater problem, it’d make up for you being ticked off at me and we could all hold hands, sing songs of friendship and skip off over some fairy-tale rainbow.”

Faith cleared her throat. “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

“Yeah, well, Brit wants everyone to get along. She’s always been that way, even as a kid.” He tapped the toolbox with the toe of his work boot. “She loves me and considers you a friend, so she wants us to tolerate each other.”

Panic knifed through Faith. Friends? Her and Britney? Why did all the Colettis want to be her friend? Britney was her boss. Period. Besides, when you were friends with people they did things like send their brother to your house. She hadn’t missed all those hints Britney had given her these past few months about how wonderful Nick was, how perfect he’d be for some lucky woman.

That lucky woman obviously being Faith.

“If you want me gone,” Nick said, “just say the word.”

Oh, she wanted. But she’d long since learned that it didn’t matter what she wanted.

She’d play nice with Nick, show him she was just a single mother trying to get by, and then he’d stop looking at her as if she was a suspect in one of his cases.

Damn it, she and Austin were done running. And Nick Coletti wasn’t going to change that.



“I APPRECIATE YOU checking the water heater.” Faith sounded sincere. So why did Nick have the feeling she’d rather eat her apple core then let him in?

“No problem.” He picked up his toolbox and stepped over the threshold, his bare arm brushing against hers, causing his skin to prickle with awareness.

Faith shrank back as if she wished she could disappear into the wall. She shut the door. “Uh…it’s in the basement.”

Nick nodded and took the room in with a quick glance. She sure liked bright colors. If the porch hadn’t proved that, her living room did. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, the plump sofa was green with pink-and-white pillows that matched the high-backed, pink-checked chair in the corner. He squinted and hoped all the cheeriness didn’t burn his retinas.

Talk about a surprise. Going by how she dressed, he would’ve guessed Faith’s home to be more subdued. And much more beige.

He followed her as she put the phone back in its receiver on a small green-painted table next to the sofa before going into the long kitchen. The cupboards had been painted white and in the middle of the room stood a narrow island with a cooktop on one side and an eating bar on the other, flanked by two high-backed wooden stools.

Austin sat on one of the stools, reading. “I’ll get dinner going as soon as I show Mr. Coletti where the water heater is,” Faith told her son.

Nick shifted his toolbox to his other hand. “Why don’t you let Austin show me where it is? That way you can go ahead and work on dinner.”

She looked at him as if he’d asked her the impossible. See? It was things like that, along with her reaction to his giving Austin that five bucks, that had him so damn curious about her.

“That’s not necessary,” she assured him, tossing the apple core into the garbage can in the corner. “It’ll only take a min—”

“I don’t want him to lead me into battle,” Nick interrupted. There he was, trying to do her a favor, and she acted as if she didn’t trust him around her kid. “If it makes you feel better, why don’t you point me in the general direction of the basement? I’m sure with a map, a compass and maybe a decent GPS unit, I’ll find my way before nightfall.”

“That won’t be necessary.” But her tone indicated it wasn’t altogether out of the realm of possibility, either.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Austin said. “I’ll show him.”

He jumped off the stool and Nick followed him to a door at the end of the room. Austin flipped on a light and led the way down the wooden stairs, trailing his hand along the stone walls as he descended. The farther down they went, the cooler it got. And the mustier it smelled.

Nick followed Austin past the washer and dryer, a furnace that had to be at least as old as his mother, and a few large plastic totes that had “Winter Clothes” printed neatly on the sides. That was it for storage.

He set his toolbox down, opened the lid and took out his trouble light. “I take it your mom’s not the sentimental type?”

Austin wiped the back of his hand under his nose. “Huh?”

Spotting an outlet, Nick plugged the hanging light in and flipped it on. Laid it on the floor, where light shot up onto Austin’s pale face. The kid sure didn’t spend much time outside. When Nick was Austin’s age, he’d already turned two shades darker. Of course, his olive complexion tanned easily, whereas Austin seemed to take after his fair-skinned mother. That and his eyes were about the only similarities between mother and son.

“Sentimental. You know, mushy about baby clothes and old toys. Most moms keep everything from drawings you made when you were three, to your first lost tooth, to all your report cards.”

His mother’s basement wasn’t half this size, but she’d managed to stuff it with a whole lot more than Faith had. Hell, when Nick had gone down last winter to change her furnace filter, he’d spied his old hockey skates. Why did women hold on to stuff like that?

Austin shrugged. “My mom’s not like that. She says the most important thing is that we’re together, not holding on to material things.”

And if that wasn’t a direct quote from Faith, Nick would eat his badge.

“Your mom’s right. People are more important than things.” Although he couldn’t imagine any mother who didn’t have at least a small box of keepsakes. But if Faith had one, she didn’t keep it in this eerily empty basement. “And now you have more room to store all your winter stuff.” When Austin stared at him blankly, Nick added, “Things like your sleds, shovels, boots and hats and gloves. Not to mention all your holiday decorations.”

“We don’t have any of that,” Austin said.

Nick searched for somewhere to hang his light, trying not to reveal what he was thinking. It was weird they didn’t have any winter gear. Weird, but hardly illegal, or any reason for his instincts to be kicking in. There could be a reasonable explanation. “I take it you’ve never lived up north during winter before? Never been around snow?”

Austin shook his head—either as a negative response or to flip his hair out of his eyes. “Nah, I’ve seen snow. We had a shovel and I even had a sled when we lived in Serenity Springs and—”

Guilt and panic, two emotions Nick saw often when he interrogated suspects, flashed across Austin’s face. Apprehension, suspicion, tickled the back of Nick’s neck. He rubbed at it but the tickle wouldn’t go away.

He wasn’t going to interrogate the kid—just ask him a few questions. Maybe get a feel for the real story behind Faith’s secretiveness. What was the worst that could happen? If he was wrong, getting the kid to talk about himself wouldn’t hurt anything.

Hey, he was a cop. He justified using sneaky tactics all the time.

“What kind of sled did you have?” Nick asked.

“A round, plastic one,” Austin muttered, staring at the floor.

“My nephew has one of those,” he said, giving up on hanging his light. Hopefully, it’d cast enough of a glow from the floor for him to see what he was doing. “That thing really flies.”

“Yeah, it was sweet.” The boy scratched at a scab on his knee. “I don’t have it anymore. We, uh, decided to move, and I couldn’t take it with us.”

“You must’ve had a ton of stuff if you couldn’t find room for a sled that size.”

“Mom said it would be easier to buy a new one.”

“Can’t argue with that logic. Better watch out,” Nick said. “I’m going to turn the water on to see if I can figure out where the leak came from.”

“It came from the bottom.”

“You sure? Not from any of the pipes or maybe this faucet?” He squatted and pointed to the brass faucet at the bottom of the tank.

Austin squatted, too, mimicking Nick’s stance. “Nah. It sort of poured out of the bottom.”

“Let’s double-check.”

He stood, reached up and twisted a handle. No sooner had he moved back than water streamed out from the bottom of the tank.

“Damn.” Nick stepped over the water to shut off the valve again.

“Told you,” Austin gloated. “Sir,” he added quickly, when Nick glanced over his shoulder at him. But Nick noticed he was fighting a grin.

Which was good. The times he’d been around Austin, the kid had seemed too serious. Too mature.

Neither of which any nine-year-old boy worth his salt should be.

Having already figured out the water heater was toast, Nick stepped over the small puddle of water. “Got any towels handy so I can clean up this mess?”

“Sure.” Austin ran off, coming back almost immediately with a large bath towel.

“Thanks.” Nick knelt and mopped up the water. “Do you play baseball? We have a short rec league that starts soon. Sign-ups are this weekend if you’re interested.”

Longing filled Austin’s eyes. “I don’t play baseball.”

“No? What about midget football? Or if you’re into skating, we have a youth hockey league—”

“No!” Austin’s hands were now fisted at his sides, his shoulders rigid, his lips a thin line. “I mean…no, thank you. I…I don’t want to play any sports.”

“Hey, it’s no problem.”

Austin nodded and blew out a breath. Either he had a personal—and vehement—hatred of organized sports or there was a whole lot more going on with this kid than Nick had realized.

“So, you’ve lived in a lot of difference places?” Nick asked. Austin shrugged, which Nick took to mean yes. “How are you liking it here?”

“It’s okay.”

“Where did you live before you moved to Kingsville?”

When he got no response, Nick glanced up. Austin shrugged again. “Just around.”

Nick tightened his grip on the towel. Obviously Austin took after his mother in more ways than just his eye color. Trying to get to know him was like trying to convince Britney to stop dressing like a sixteen-year-old pop star. Both were exercises in futility.

And frustrating as hell.

“Around, huh? What about that town you mentioned earlier? Serenity Springs? How long did you—”

“I have to go,” Austin said, his face red, his eyes suspiciously shiny.

Nick straightened, the wet towel in his hand dripping onto his shoe as he watched Austin race up the stairs. You’d have thought he’d suggested the kid go play in traffic or something.

He walked to the washing machine and dropped the towel into an empty laundry basket. There was something going on with Faith and Austin. The kid had looked so guilty when he’d mentioned Serenity Springs, it was as if he’d just blurted out a state secret.

Nick already knew they’d moved around a lot before settling in Kingsville. Britney had gleaned that much information from her employee. But not much else. Nick hadn’t really wondered about it before. He’d figured they hadn’t found the right place to settle.

But now…now he couldn’t ignore the little voice in the back of his head. The one telling him there was more to the story. The one whispering that maybe Faith and Austin were running from something.

Or someone.




CHAPTER FOUR


STEPPING ONTO THE first stair, Faith stopped short when Austin came barreling around the corner. “Hey,” she said as he took the stairs two at a time, “I was just coming down to see how things were going.”

Because though she’d been telling herself he was fine, she couldn’t stop worrying. He’d rarely been alone with any other adult since they’d left New York, and she’d made sure he was never alone with a man. Nick was the golden boy of Kingsville. Well liked. Honorable. A man people turned to when they needed help. But she knew all too well that a spotless reputation was no guarantee of a man’s true nature.

“It’s going fine,” Austin mumbled, brushing past her.

She caught up with him by the sink. “Are you sure?” She searched his face. His cheeks were pink and he kept his gaze averted. Her fingers tensed on his shoulders. “Did something happen? Did—did Nick say…or do…something to you?”

Austin pulled away from her. “No.”

“If someone upsets you or makes you feel…uncomfortable…you need to tell me.”

“Nothing happened.”

She straightened at the tone in his voice. “I’m glad to hear that. But how about you lose the attitude? Or at least save some up until you hit your teens.”

“Sorry,” he said, as the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs reached them.

“I have some bad news.” Nick set his toolbox down by her most prized flea-market find, an antique pedestal table with a distressed white finish. “I also have some almost good news.”

“Can I finish reading my comic now?” Austin asked.

“Sure,” Faith said slowly. “But only for fifteen minutes. Then I’m going to need you to set the table and take the garbage out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Bye, Austin,” Nick called as the boy walked away. Her son lifted a hand but kept right on going.

“I’ll take the bad news first,” she told Nick, vowing to talk to Austin about his lack of manners once they were alone. If he said nothing had happened in the basement, she had no reason to doubt him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more going on than her son had told her.

“You need a new water heater,” Nick announced.

“I figured as much.” She washed her hands and began mixing the ingredients together for meat loaf. Cold, raw beef squished between her fingers. “I appreciate you taking time out of your day off to look at it.”

He stood at the counter next to her. “Don’t you want to hear the almost good news?”

What she wanted was to show him the door. Too bad she had a part to play. “Of course.”

“I called a friend of mine. He can get you a new water heater at cost. Plus, if I help him install it, he’ll give you a break on the labor.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I asked him to.”

She was becoming even more jaded than she’d realized if the idea of someone doing a friend a favor made her suspicious.

She shaped the meat mixture into a small loaf, set it in a glass baking dish and washed her hands. “I wouldn’t feel right imposing on him, or you, that way.”

It was funny how things worked out. She’d spent most of her life searching for a man to take care of her, and now when a guy did offer his help, she couldn’t get away fast enough. Yeah, life sure was a freaking riot.

“It’s no imposition on either of us,” Nick assured her. “He’ll still get paid, but it’s up to you. It won’t save you a lot, just a couple hundred dollars.”

“Did he happen to mention how much he thinks it’ll cost?”

Nick named a figure that, while still high enough to make her checkbook whimper, was two hundred dollars less than the quote the plumber had given her over the phone this morning. She stuck the meat loaf into the preheated oven, rinsed two small potatoes and picked up her coarse vegetable brush.

It was only one more time, a few more hours of having Nick in here, around her son. And he wouldn’t really even have to be around them. She could leave Nick and his friend to do their job while she and Austin steered clear. Surely they could get through it unscathed.

“On second thought,” she said, scrubbing the potato so hard she almost took the skin right off, “I’d be…grateful for your help.”

“No problem. We’ll swing by tomorrow after work. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to finish the job. Six o’clock work for you?”

“Sounds good.” Could he stop staring at her now? She’d given in. What more did he want? Pleasant conversation? That was just way beyond her acting capabilities at the moment. Besides, she needed to get back to Austin, to reassure herself he really was okay.

She set the potatoes aside and, inwardly cringing at her own rudeness, said, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

As a nudge, it was less than subtle, but at least it worked. Humor lit his dark eyes. “Right. I can find my own way out.”

“Oh, no, let me just—”

But he picked up his toolbox and left, with Faith racing after him. She stopped in the doorway to find Nick crouching next to the couch, talking to Austin.

“I was apologizing,” Nick said to her, even though he didn’t look her way, just watched her son while Austin kept his gaze glued to his comic book.

Her stomach dropped. “Apologizing for what?”

“I’m not exactly sure.” Nick drummed his fingers against his knee. “But I think it had something to do with my asking if Austin was interested in playing baseball.”

“I’m not,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” Nick nodded. “I got that. Anyway,” he told Austin, “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to pressure you—”

“I didn’t,” the boy said, still not so much as glancing Nick’s way.

“Does that mean we’re okay?”

Austin lifted a shoulder. Faith opened her mouth to scold him but caught the quick head shake Nick gave her. “Great.” Nick stood and grabbed his toolbox once again. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He held out his fist. For a moment, Faith had no idea what he was doing until Austin, still staring at the comic, bumped his own fist against the man’s much larger one. Nick grinned, gave her a wink and walked out the door.

Faith watched him leave.

Then she crossed the room and locked the door behind him.



“HOW COME I GOT this end?” Nick asked the next evening, struggling down Faith’s steps backward while he and Ethan Crosby hauled a new water heater to the basement.

“Quit bitching. I had the low end when we moved that Ping-Pong table, remember? And that thing weighs at least fifty pounds more than this.” Ethan shifted his side of the heater a few inches higher. “I have two kids to send to college—”

“They’re both still in diapers.”

“—and I can’t risk having my neck broken because you can’t hold up your end.”

“Get over it,” Nick said, referring to Christmas Eve two years ago when Ethan had helped him move an assembled Ping-Pong table into Kathleen’s basement. “You only needed four stitches.”

Nick took a careful step backward, his arms stretched wide to hold on to the bulky, heavy box. He glanced over his shoulder.

Three more steps and they made it to the bottom without any casualties. Most importantly, they made it without dropping the damn thing. After carrying it to the far end of the basement, they set it upright and took a moment to catch their breath.

Faith came down carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade, two glasses and a small plate of chocolate chip cookies. She faltered when she spotted them, but it was so brief, Nick doubted Ethan even noticed.

“I’ll just leave this here,” she said, setting the tray down on top of the short stack of storage totes. She wore baggy jeans and an oversize black T-shirt. He wondered if she even owned a pair of shorts. And what her figure looked like under all those shapeless clothes she insisted on wearing. “Uh…if you need anything, I’ll be outside.”

Ethan smiled. “Thanks.”

She returned his smile with a nervous one of her own and went back upstairs, her thick ponytail swinging in time with her movements. Ethan picked up a cookie and took a bite.

“How about you eat when we’re done?” Nick asked, grabbing a plastic bucket. “I’d like to get home in time to watch the ball game.”

“Game doesn’t start for two hours.” Ethan helped himself to another cookie, then wiped his hand on the side of his khaki work pants. “And you’re not usually in a hurry to get away from a pretty woman. Usually they can’t wait to get away from you.”

Nick set the bucket underneath the spigot and turned it on to drain the remaining water from the heater. “The only reason I’m doing this is because Brit nagged me into it.”

“Bullshit,” Ethan said cheerfully. “You’re interested in Ms. Lewis. What’s the matter? She have enough sense not to be interested back?”

“I wonder,” Nick said thoughtfully, tapping a wrench against his palm, “what Lauren would say if she discovered what really happened the night of your bachelor party.”

Ethan’s smirk faded. “That’s cold, man. She can’t ever find out about that.”

Nick feigned a puzzled expression. “No? Huh.”

“I was drunk.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep my mouth shut about her dog’s Mohawk—and who really held the clippers—and you can keep your mouth shut about me and Faith Lewis.”

Eating another cookie, Ethan shrugged belligerently, which Nick took as a yes. Nick slapped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s a sad state of affairs when a man is afraid of his one-hundred-and-ten-pound wife.”

Ethan snorted. “About as sad as a man putting in a new water heater for a woman who’s clearly not interested.”

Damn. No wonder his mother always warned him not to gloat.

Once the water stopped draining, Nick took the bucket upstairs. Opening the kitchen door that led out into Faith’s tiny backyard, he was met by the loud rumble of a lawn mower shaking the hell out of Austin as he cut the grass. Squinting against the sunlight, Nick crossed over to the side of Faith’s one-stall garage, where she knelt weeding a flower bed.

Like the inside of her house, the small garden was a riot of colors. White, yellows, pinks and blues filled the base, but the centerpiece was a bright purple clematis winding its way up the sides and around the rungs of an old wooden ladder leaning against the wall.

She stood and met him by the edge of the garage. “Everything going all right?” she asked over the sound of the mower.

“Fine.” He set the bucket at her feet. “We had to drain the heater and I thought you could use this to water your flowers.”

She wore dark sunglasses, so he couldn’t see her expression. “That’s very…environmentally sound of you.”

“I’m all about reducing, reusing and recycling,” he said soberly.

“Really?” She took off her dirt-encrusted garden gloves, held them in one hand while trying to untangle hair caught in her sunglasses with the other. “I never would’ve guessed you were so green-minded.”

“Here,” he said, edging closer, “let me help.”

She stiffened as he gently extricated her hair from the small hinge and tucked the silky strands behind her ear. He let his hand drop and curled his fingers into his palm.

“I would try and tell you that Al Gore has always been a personal hero of mine,” he continued, trying to put her back at ease—if she ever was at ease with him, “but the truth is, I promised my nephew Isaac I’d do my best to save the planet.”

Acting as if it took her entire concentration, she stepped back and brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans. “Sounds like a pretty big job for one man.”

“Isaac’s five. He pretty much thinks that since I’m a police officer, I’m something of a superhero.”

And why that made her wince, he had no idea.

“Every little bit helps. And since we’re not due to get rain for a few days, this—” she tapped the bucket with the toe of her worn sneakers “—will come in handy. Thank you.”

“That kills you, doesn’t it?”

She swallowed. “Wha…what does?”

“The few times you’ve thanked me, it’s as if someone’s dragging the words out of your mouth.”

“Don’t be silly. I appreciate you helping me like this.” She raised her head, and though he couldn’t see past her dark lenses, he sensed she was looking him dead in the eye. “Truly.”

He also sensed she was lying through her teeth.

“I’d better get back,” he said, not wanting to push her too far. He nodded toward a very sweaty, red-faced Austin. “It’ll take a while for the water to warm up in the tank, but I don’t think Austin will mind rinsing off under the hose today.”

“He’ll love it. Why little boys can stand under the freezing spray from a hose for hours, but hate the confines of a tub or shower, I’ll never know.”

Nick grinned. “The hose is more of an adventure. And if there’s one thing males of all ages can’t get enough of, it’s an adventure.”

Another thing they couldn’t get enough of was a challenge. At least Nick couldn’t resist one. And at the moment, his biggest challenge was figuring out the woman in front of him.

“We should be finished and out of your hair in no time,” he said before walking back into the house.

No, he wasn’t interested in Faith, at least not the way Ethan accused him of. But Nick was curious. Back inside the house, he watched Faith through the kitchen window. She crouched and began yanking weeds, tossing them into a small pile. He couldn’t quite figure her out, but he aimed to try.

She obviously loved bright colors, so why did she dress in such muted tones? Add that to her jumpiness around him, her obviously not wanting him alone with Austin, and the kid’s rush to get away from him yesterday and Nick couldn’t help but think he’d seen this situation many times before.

He’d been called to his fair share of domestic disputes, and each one of them had made his stomach turn. He’d also seen the results of that abuse. How the victims blamed themselves for the violence. And believed they could never get away from their abuser. Was that what made Faith and Austin so secretive? Had some bastard laid his hand on them?

Though Faith showed signs indicating she might have been abused, Nick wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. He needed more evidence to prove his instincts were right. He wanted to help them. And there was only one way he’d be able to do that.

He needed to earn their trust.



LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Nick and Ethan had her new water heater installed and the old one in the back of Ethan’s pickup. Standing in her freshly mowed backyard, Faith handed Ethan an envelope with the money she owed him.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming today,” she said, her voice steady and almost pleasant. She even added a smile. After Nick’s remark about how strained she sounded whenever she thanked someone, she realized she needed to shore up her acting skills.

“Glad I could help out,” Ethan said. He was a big man, as fair as Nick was dark, with white-blond hair and pale blue eyes. He seemed harmless.

Nick, on the other hand, was a whole other story.

Last night as she’d tucked Austin into bed, he’d admitted he’d inadvertently told Nick they’d once lived in Serenity Springs. That, combined with her nervousness around Nick getting the better of her, convinced her she needed to be friendlier. More open and honest. To show Nick she had nothing to hide.

Even if it was all a lie.

“I was…” She cleared her throat. “I was hoping you would allow me to treat you both to dinner.”

“Excuse me?” Nick asked.

“Now I don’t have to go the rest of the week without hot water, not to mention the money I was able to save. I just wanted to thank you. Both.”

Nick searched her face. “Let me get this straight. You’re volunteering to spend more time with me?”

She ground her back teeth together. He just couldn’t make this easy, could he? “Yes. I thought the four of us could go to Nero’s for pizza.”

Ethan glanced from one to the other. “I’m afraid Nick’s in a hurry to get home. Something about a baseball game.”

“That game’s not on until tomorrow,” he countered.

Ethan’s pale eyebrows shot up. “It’s not?”

“Nope. I’d love to have pizza with you and Austin.”

“I must’ve heard wrong then,” Ethan said. “And I’d be happy to join—”

“But he can’t,” Nick interjected smoothly.

“I can’t?”

“He needs to get home to watch his kids,” Nick explained. “Tonight’s Lauren’s yoga class at the Y.”

“It’s Wednesday,” Ethan pointed out. “Yoga is on Tue—”

“Mohawk.”

Faith frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Nick seemed as innocent as a newborn. She didn’t buy it for a moment. “I just don’t want him to be late.” He lowered his voice as if Ethan wasn’t right there to hear him. “His wife holds grudges when she’s mad. One time she made him sleep on the couch for… How long was it?” he asked his friend. “A week?”

“Ten days,” Ethan grumbled.





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