Crossing the Line (11 page)

Megan was at her computer when Paul and Chloe got back with the pizza. They were almost an hour later than she’d expected them to be. She was beginning to get worried as it was growing dark outside, but Megan figured that Paul needed to put some distance between them after their heated make-out session. She knew that it had certainly thrown her for a loop. The last time he’d been drunk, and she’d been unsure of his motivations. This time it was all him, and boy, was it ever. Just thinking about it again was making her warm all over.

Chloe came bounding up the stairs to get her for dinner. The little girl was all aglow about Paul taking her to the park, telling Megan how he’d pushed her really high on the swing. 

As they entered the living room where Paul had laid out the pizza, Megan skidded to a stop, and all moisture left her mouth. Paul was bent over at the waist, facing away from them, the khaki dress pants he typically wore to work pulled taut against his backside. Megan wasn’t normally one to get turned on over any one part of a man’s body, but as with everything else, Paul was different. Over the last few weeks, she’d fantasized about his mouth, his hands, and she was sure that his ass would be starring in a few of those fantasies in the very near future.

They ended up watching
Finding Nemo
. It was one of Chloe’s favorites, and in the last five months, they’d watched it at least twenty times. Megan could almost quote it word for word. At one point, Chloe had her mouth around a piece of pizza and said, right along with the characters, “Remember: rip it, roll it, and punch it,” before taking a large bite with a huge smile on her face. Megan and Paul had shared a look, and chuckled silently. 

Those were the types of moments she loved—the ones where they were both in this bubble—sharing something between them. It usually happened around Chloe, but then again, there weren’t many times when they were together and Chloe wasn’t around.

Once the movie was over and the pizza demolished, Paul took Chloe upstairs to bed while Megan cleaned up downstairs. After their “moment” when Chloe quoted Squirt from the movie, Paul had studiously ignored her. Not in a rude way, but in a way that let her know that he didn’t want to interact with her if it wasn’t necessary. That hurt, but she’d known all along that he was fighting whatever was going on between them. She had to keep telling herself that was all it was. 

With everything back to normal in the living room, Megan headed upstairs to say good night to Chloe. To her surprise, Paul stood when she entered. “I already read Chloe her story.” Then he turned to his daughter. “Say good night to Megan.”

“Night, Megan.”

Her chest clenched painfully as she bent to kiss the little girl good night. “Good night, Chloe.”

Paul strolled by Megan, leaving the room, and she moved to follow him, turning out the light as she went. 

By the time she’d stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, he was halfway down the hall. “Hey.”

He stopped, and wheeled around to face her. 

When he didn’t comment, she squared her shoulders, and walked forward. He didn’t back away, but the way he held himself didn’t encourage her either. “I wanted to let you know that I decided to go visit my sister while Chloe is with her grandparents.”

She watched as some of the tension left his body. “Good.” He cleared his throat. “That will be good for you. And her.”

Megan nodded. “I’ll only be gone a week.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

“They’re newlyweds. Work or not, they need their time and space. Especially with the baby coming.”

He released a shaky sigh, and she wondered what was going through his mind. “You should stay the whole month.”

“No.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “No? Why not?”

Megan took a step closer to him, and he paled. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Paul Daniels. I know you think you aren’t good enough for me for some insane reason, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Megan . . .”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve known you for five months now and I refuse to believe that you aren’t the man you appear to be.”

“And what kind of man is that?” A small smile pulled at one side of his mouth, and she was happy to see at least something break through the unmovable façade he was displaying. 

“A good one. You’re kind, loving, and honorable. You’re a good cop, and a great dad. And . . .” She hesitated.

“And?”

“And you’re one hell of a kisser.” 

To her surprise, Paul stepped forward. He raised a hand to cup her face, and then brought his lips down to graze the side of her ear. The heat from his palm spread down her neck, and her breath caught in her throat waiting to see what he’d do. 

“That doesn’t mean I’d make a good mate for you. It just means I’m good at faking it.”

A second later, Paul released her. She looked up at him, stunned, and unsure what to make of his declaration. 

“Good night, Megan.”

Before she knew it, he had slipped into his room, leaving her staring after him. Again. 

Sighing in frustration, Megan marched into her room. She wanted to slam the door, but knew she couldn’t because of Chloe. Instead, she threw herself on her bed and screamed into her pillow. This was one of those times when she needed a best friend or a big sister to talk to. Although she knew she could talk to Rebecca, she didn’t think her sister would be all that helpful, given the situation. Rebecca would think Megan had a crush and tell her that she needed to find a hobby or something, and get over it. 

Things weren’t that simple. What she felt for Paul wasn’t merely a crush. She’d had crushes before. Lots of them. All those guys, boys really, that she’d followed all over the country—they were crushes. She’d seen what she wanted to see in them, not who they really were. 

Changing into her pajamas, Megan crawled into bed, and grabbed the book she’d started earlier in the day. The problem was she couldn’t concentrate on a single word she was reading. She closed the book, and tossed it onto her nightstand. 

Sinking down lower in the bed, she raised her knees and hugged them to her chest. She was tempted to go knock on Paul’s door and throw herself at him, but she didn’t think that would get her what she wanted. Not in the long run, anyway. 

Megan didn’t sleep well that night. Her thoughts were filled with Paul and how to get him to open up to her. After what he’d said the day before, she was sure something had happened between him and his wife. Something he was ashamed of, maybe?

She dressed, and headed downstairs as she usually did. Paul was sitting at the kitchen table going over the file Janey had dropped off. 

“Morning.”

He glanced up, and then immediately back down. “Morning.”

Trying not to take it personally, Megan went to get some coffee, and then joined him at the table. “Did you have any plans for today?”

“Since the sun is shining and it’s not raining, I figured I’d do some work outside in the yard. Besides, I need to stay close to home since I’m on call.”

Megan nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “Maybe Chloe and I can work on the flower beds. She was talking about all the pretty flowers the last time we were at the store.”

“I’m sure she’d like that.” Although he was talking to her, Paul never took his eyes off the papers in front of him. 

“Can’t you look at me?” Her voice was soft, and it was impossible to disguise the hurt she felt.

Paul closed the folder, and faced her.

“Thank you.”

They sat staring at each other for several minutes before Paul got up and refilled his coffee. He didn’t return to the table. Instead, he leaned against the counter. It was clear to her that he was putting physical distance between them on purpose. 

“I’m not giving up, you know.”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his coffee mug so hard she thought he might break it. With his mouth set in a hard line, he met her gaze. “I know.”

Chapter 9

Paul was called out late Sunday night. He knocked on Megan’s bedroom door, letting her know where he was going before taking off. She’d been groggy and rumpled, and looked way sexier than she had a right to. He was positive seeing her like that would only serve to add content to his new and rather arousing dreams the next time his head hit the pillow. 

The homicide that night was of the standard variety, and they had the suspect in custody before they’d finished going through the crime scene for evidence. Even still, it meant Paul didn’t get home until dawn. He was coming through the door when Megan appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you just getting back?”

He closed the door, and locked it behind him. “Yeah.”

She yawned and stretched, raising her arms above her head and molding her top against her chest. He quickly looked away. Luckily, she wasn’t awake enough to notice. 

Paul cleared his throat. “Still tired?”

“Yeah.”

Laughing, he walked over to start the coffee pot. 

When she realized what he was doing, Megan took a seat at the kitchen table, and rested her head in her hands. “I don’t know why. Besides you waking me up last night, I slept pretty good.”

Neither of them said another word until Paul brought a steaming cup of coffee over to her. “This should help.”

Picking it up, she took a deep breath, and then a cautious sip. 

She sighed, and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Paul smiled back. “I’m gonna check on Chloe, and then catch a few hours’ sleep.”

Megan took another sip of her coffee, and then nodded. “I’ll keep her downstairs once she wakes up so you can get some rest.”

“Thanks.”

He headed toward the stairs, but she stopped him. “And Paul?”

“Yes?”

This time the smile on her face wasn’t so sleepy and innocent. “Thanks again for the coffee.”

Even with his desperate need for sleep, Paul couldn’t help but respond to that twinkle in Megan’s eye. She knew what she was doing. He’d give her that. Before he did something he would regret, he trotted up the stairs trying to remain quiet and not wake his daughter. 

After a quick glance in Chloe’s room, he closed her door, and headed down the hall. Once inside the privacy of the master suite, he strolled over to his bedside table. He removed his gun and holster, putting them away, and then ambled into the bathroom.

When he returned to the bedroom, he walked directly over to his nightstand, and picked up the picture of Melissa he kept there. He inhaled a shaky breath, and released it. “What’s happening to me?”

She didn’t answer, of course. 

Paul lowered himself to sit on the edge of his mattress, clutching his wife’s photograph with both hands. “Why now? Why her?” 

He paused as the scene from downstairs replayed in his head. “Why?”

Kicking off his shoes and removing his tie, he lay back on the bed, his head on the pillows. For the longest time after Melissa died, his life outside of his job and Chloe didn’t make sense. It had taken him years to begin to feel somewhat normal again—like he wasn’t missing an arm or a leg.

People always told him that things would get better in time. He hadn’t believed them. But they’d been right, in a way. Although he never went a day without thinking about his wife—missing her—the time and distance had made it easier for him to cope. It was as he’d told Megan. He was good at faking it. As the years passed, it was easier to smile and act normal even if he didn’t always feel that way. 

He traced the curve of Melissa’s cheek with his index finger. “She’s twenty-three and very persistent.” Paul paused, and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

Turning, Paul laid Melissa’s picture on the pillow beside his head, and stared at the beautiful woman who gave birth to his daughter. A part of him wished that she was here to tell him what he should do. The logical part of his brain, however, knew that if Melissa were there with him, he would never be in this type of situation. Megan would never be part of his life. Not in the way she currently was, anyway. She’d just be his baby brother’s sister-in-law—someone he saw from the outside looking in, but never had too much contact with. 

His eyes began to close as he continued to gaze at Melissa’s image. Deciding to give up the battle, he sighed and allowed the exhaustion to take him. 

Megan had a huge smile on her face as she continued to sit at the table and drink her coffee. She was wearing him down. Megan knew it. She only had to have patience. Not her strong suit, but she could do it. For Paul, she would do just about anything. 

A half hour later, she was in the living room watching some television when Chloe came creeping down the stairs. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she spotted Megan on the couch. Without a word, Chloe padded across the room to where Megan sat, and climbed onto her lap. Wrapping her arms around the little girl, Megan kissed the top of her head, and flipped the channel to some cartoons. 

Eventually, Chloe began to wake up more. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He was called into work last night, so he’s upstairs sleeping. That means we need to play quietly downstairs for a while and let him rest.”