Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4) (10 page)

"I had a crush on Brenda all through high school but she never paid me any attention." At the mention of Brenda's name, Naomi tries to pull her feet from my lap, but I hold them fast, continuing to stroke my thumbs down her soles.

"She was your typical, popular girl; a cheerleader, homecoming queen and I was just a scrawny kid with pimples who sucked at sports. After high school, I left for the Denver Police Academy and worked for the Denver PD for a few years. That’s where I first met Gus. When I decided the big city wasn't for me and returned to Cortez to join the Montezuma County Sheriff's Office. I was ready to settle down. At least that's what I told myself when I bumped into Brenda again. I had bulked up some over the years and my face had cleared up... Brenda hadn't changed much; she was still a knock out. I was pumped she showed interest and was in a hurry to tie her down. Two months later we were married... but it took me about as long after to realize my mistake. By then, Brenda was pregnant and more than anything I wanted a family, so I stuck in. I figured maybe motherhood would settle down her erratic behavior, the mood swings, her tendency to get physical. I was deluding myself. She lost the baby while staying with a friend for a few days, while I was working an important case. We tried again after, but she never was able to get pregnant again. Her behavior became even more outrageous than before, and I ended up hiding in work to escape the house...the constant fighting.”

I rub the back of my neck, not looking forward to the next part. This is where it gets painful, but I’m determined to clear the air.

“One day I came home late from a shift to find a party in full swing at the house. People all over the place, none of whom I'd ever seen before, drunk—trashing my house. I was livid. Brenda was half-naked dancing on the coffee table. We had a huge fight and somewhere in there she blurted out she hadn't had a miscarriage, that she’d aborted our baby...that she never wanted to be tied down with a kid."

I take a deep breath against the sting of opening up that wound again.
Fuck.

"Oh my God, Joe. I'm so sorry..." Naomi whispers, her hand clapped over her mouth.

I clench my jaw to get through this hardest part of the story without losing it.

"She had gone to a clinic while staying with her friend, who had chosen to cover for her. I have never hurt a woman, could never hurt a woman, but in that moment, I wanted to kill her, I swear. Kicker is, she not only had the abortion, she had her tubes tied at the same time too... That did it for me. I walked out; told her I was filing for divorce."

I feel Naomi's hand sneaking into mine, but I keep my eyes straight ahead. I don't think I've ever gone so far as to tell this entire sordid tale to anyone in such detail. Not even Gus knows all the bits and pieces. If I want to move forward though, I have to clear up the past. Leave it behind.

"That was her first suicide attempt. I got a call from the hospital. She'd been found by a downstairs neighbor when water started leaking through the ceiling. She was in the tub with her wrists cut. She went into a six week inpatient treatment facility where she was diagnosed with BPD, borderline personality disorder. It was only the first time, there were several more. Brenda lost her parents fairly young and had no remaining family; it was difficult to turn my back on her."

I turn to face her on the couch, and see I've made her cry again. Wonderful. Grabbing both of her hands, I look her in the eyes because it's the next part she really needs to hear.

"When I met you, I had been living on my own for four years, just flying under the radar and keeping my peace. I'd check in on Brenda. She was still living in the same apartment. I would do stuff for her if something needed fixing, but generally tried to steer clear of the rest. She was unstable though. She would go off her meds constantly. I never dated.” I squeeze her hands in mine to make sure she hears me clearly. “Oh, I'd hook up from time to time—I'm not ashamed to admit—but mostly out of town, far away and preferably as anonymous as possible. Sleazy, I know," I add when I see her wince, "but it worked for me at the time. Until I met you, and all rational thought seemed to disappear. Doc, I was so far gone over you, I wasn't thinking straight. Or I would never have risked taking you out to a restaurant in town, when you finally agreed to a date with me. Brenda seems to have a sixth sense when my attention is taken up by someone else. She had become needier from the moment I started making a play for you. I knew I shouldn't have mentioned I was out for dinner when she called me on the way to the restaurant, but I wasn't thinking. I was just eager to get to our date. It also never occurred to me to explain my situation to you. Stupid. I know that now. But other than Gus, nobody really knew I was still married. Hell, I'd forgot most of the time. It was nothing but a mere piece of paper that only existed because every time I wanted to put an end to it, Brenda would go off the deep end. There were also her medical expenses to consider. It just became a status quo I learned to live with. When she stormed into the restaurant and put me on the spot, I should've said something; shouldn't have let you run out like that, but Brenda was in a manic state, making a scene and I was torn. Believe me, there hasn't been a day in the past three years that I haven't regretted that spur of the moment decision. I hate that the opportunity I thought I would have to set things straight and explain my situation to you, never materialized."

And just like that, Naomi is up and off the couch and out the door in her bare feet, and she’s...running. Whoa, where the hell is she going?
FUCK.

By the time I get out there, Emma has her head out the backdoor of her house.

"Is she alright? Did something happen?"

"Nothing I can't fix, Emma."

"If you say so," she says with a smile.

Turning the other way, I can just see her disappearing into the cornfield behind the house.
Jesus, girl
. I take off after her, before she gets too far.

But she doesn’t. About ten steps into the corn, I find her on her knees in the dirt, curled over, just ripping my heart up with her crying. In two seconds flat, I'm down in the dirt with her on my lap, secured in my arms, and despite the fact that she sounds like her heart is breaking, mine feels oddly at peace for the first time in a long time.

"Naomi, babe, look at me," I try to coax her face up but she just burrows it further into my neck, so I just rub her back and let her ride it out.

"I'm just gonna finish my story here then, because there's something more you should know, honey. That incident in the restaurant and you walking away was a good thing."

When she shakes her head in my neck and mumbles, "I was stupid—" I stop her.

"It was a
good
thing. Wanna know why? ‘Cause it made me realize even if I was ready for a relationship emotionally on some levels, I wasn't on others and not near ready enough from a practical point of view, that's for fucking sure. It took me a year after to work toward a divorce with Brenda with the help of a psychiatrist. She still ended up having to be hospitalized for a while, but has been living in Boulder in a supported living facility for the past year now and even works. She's the one who ended up wanting to move away to start fresh. If not for you, Doc, I would still be living in limbo. I'll be forever grateful to you for that."

The shuddering has stopped underneath my hand that was stroking her back and I move it to the back of her head and urge it back so I can look at her. Even wet-faced, red-nosed and blotchy, she still takes my breath away.

"I must look a mess," she mumbles.

"Yes, you do," I smile, and when I see her mouth fall open I add, "but you're still a gorgeous mess."

The smile still on my lips, I bend down to fit them over hers, tasting the salt of her tears. The slight hitch in her breathing spurs me on to lick my way into her mouth and her full-bodied flavor hits me like a fist to the gut. Deep, visceral and with an involuntary physical response that has me groan my passion into her mouth. The feel of her arms sliding around my neck as she moves around to straddle me, and the slight tug of her fingers in my hair, has my hips rolling underneath her. Christ, I can feel her moist heat through the fabric of my uniform slacks. Our tongues tangle and slide, probing and teasing. The fresh scent of the corn, the earth, Naomi's soap and her warm arousal stimulates every last one of my senses. I find myself with a hand under her T-shirt, palming her plump breast, wanting to draw it in my mouth as deep as I can suck it, but not wanting to let go of the intense fusion of our mouths. The feel of her soft flesh in my hand makes me want to roll her over, right here in the dirt, and strip her of all her clothes. And just then...my fucking phone rings.

"Morris," I croak out, barely remembering my name as I reluctantly release her luscious mouth and manage to pull out my cell. Any other time, I would've ignored it, but I am technically working. Not that anyone would know, by looking at me right now.

"Sheriff, it's Carol. Got a call from Les Vincent; Michael’s awake."

"Thanks Carol, I'll head straight over there. Be in after."

Naomi has crawled off my lap and is standing in front of me—flush bright on her face and chest—straightening her clothes. I stand in front of her and pull her close.

"That exploded way faster than I had hoped for," I tell her.

"Uh... that was
very
friendly, for
just friends
."

"Yes. I don't think the 'just friends' label is gonna work out so well for us. What do you think?"

She squirms a little in my arms and keeps her eyes downcast. "I'm... I can't deny you do all kinds of things to me Joe. I mean, I about mounted you just now, but so much is happening at once. And I... what you told me... the time wasted. I just need to catch up. I haven't slept in going on twenty hours and I'm scared, turned on and exhausted. I don't know what to feel right now and if I don't see a bed soon, I'm gonna cry again."

"Fair enough, Doc. Let's get you to bed. I have to run and see if I can get my mind off you and on some work anyway."

I walk Naomi back to the guesthouse, pop inside to grab my hat and give her a quick kiss before heading out. In my truck, I try to focus on the upcoming questions I have for Michael Vincent, and how best to approach him. It serves to be a difficult task though, not to replay this morning's events. I think about how I managed to coax Fox out of his shell a few times and got him to give up more information than he thought he had or wanted to part with. About how good it felt to finally, after three years of pent up frustration, be able to clear the air with Naomi.

And I think about how close I came to fucking her in the dirt, in the middle of a cornfield, on a weekday morning.

"A
ww, Mom, why'd you have to go and pick up homework? I'm so close to beating this level of 'Call of Duty' one-handed."

Walking in the door from my fifth consecutive twelve-hour overnight shift, and a stop at Fox's high school to pick up some work for him so he can try and keep up a little, I am not in the mood. I'm tired, and cranky, having had to deal with filling someone else's shift, who had a 'family emergency' last night. The irony of it didn't escape me. Jenna's smirk this morning as I passed her at the nurse's station, exhausted and I'm sure bedraggled on my way out the door, was proof enough the vindictive bitch was out to run me down.

"Fox. Please don't argue. If you feel good enough to play on your Xbox all day long, surely you can find some time in your busy schedule to try and keep up with a bit of schoolwork. Or are you willing to blow off an entire year for the sake of a stupid mistake?"

Low blow, I know, but I have no patience right now for calm negotiations. I feel bad though, when I see guilt mark his face, before he puts down his controller and picks the folder up off the coffee table where I dropped it. I walk over and drop a kiss on his hair, and try to soften the sting of my words. "I just don't want you to get so far behind that it's going to take too much to catch up again, Bub. Easier to do a little bit now and then, than it will be to try and tackle it all at once when you get back."

"Yeah, I know, Mom," he agrees softly, leaning back into my touch. "I brought you back some breakfast from Emma's."

"Thanks, baby, but I'm so tired. I'm half-asleep on my feet. I think I'm going to try and get a few hours in now. Off the next two days before I go on afternoon shifts. So I'm going to try and adjust my sleeping routine."

"Wow. She really has you flipping on a dime, doesn't she?" My son is nothing if not observant. "What's her problem anyway?"

"Don't know." I'm not about to share with my child that I think the hospital administrator is jealous of me over the town Sheriff. Nope. Gonna keep that one to myself. "I do know that I'm seriously thinking of making a move forward on those plans I had for the distant future."

"You talking about that clinic idea? The one with Kendra?"

"Thinking about it."

"But Mom..." How a sixteen-year-old, who already has gone through a substantial voice change can sound like a whiny child is beyond me, but there it is.

"Bub, don't worry about it now, okay? We'll talk about it when I get up. I have two whole days to spend with you. Isn't that wonderful?" I joke, ruffling my hand through his hair.

All he does is roll his eyes at me before I blow him a kiss and take myself to bed.