Crossing the Line (15 page)

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ did you miss?”

This only added to Janey’s mirth. “Like it or not, that nanny of yours is smitten with you. And I doubt she appreciated you trying to throw another man in her direction.”

He took a sip of his soda. “Is this one of those times when I tell you to butt out and you completely ignore me?”

She leaned forward and smiled. “Yep. It is. I’ve known you for five years, Paul, and I’ve never seen you rattled by a female. Heaven knows, I’ve witnessed women flirting their little hearts out more times than I can remember, but you’ve barely registered it. Megan Carson is different, whether you like it or not.”

Paul said he didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t, but if anyone would understand it would be Janey. “I’m not—”

“Do not say you’re not ready. It’s been five years, Paul. Don’t you think it’s time you got back on the horse, so to speak?”

That wasn’t it, but he let her assume that it was so she’d let the subject drop. Janey didn’t know about his argument with Melissa the night of her death. He’d never told her. He’d never told anyone. 

Until Megan.

Megan made it a point to spend extra time with Chloe that day. She tried to reassure the little girl as much as she could that she was there for the foreseeable future—for as long as Paul would allow her to be. 

They read a couple of books together, and even made some brownies for dinner that night. As the day progressed, Chloe seemed to relax. It was one problem Megan could cross off her list. 

She was still irritated with Paul. They needed to have a long talk, but she knew that doing so with Chloe around was tricky. Sure, Megan could wait until the little girl was asleep, but there was always a chance that they’d be interrupted.

There was also a possibility things could get heated—and not in the good, take-me-to-bed-and-have-your-way-with-me kind of way. Megan had every intention of making Paul realize that he was not responsible for what had happened to Melissa. Knowing what was keeping him from pursuing a relationship with her was equal parts frustrating and incredibly sad. It was obvious that he’d been beating himself up over this for the last five years, and Megan’s heart hurt for him. She wanted to fix it.

At five o’clock, Megan and Chloe headed into the kitchen to start dinner. Paul would be home soon, and Megan had no idea what kind of a mood he’d be in. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t going to let something like this go, but Megan also wasn’t naïve. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

They heard a car pull into the driveway, and Chloe scrambled down from her stool to wait by the door. Paul sauntered in a few seconds later. He hoisted his daughter up into his arms, and hugged her tight—a little tighter than was normal. That was when Megan noticed the tension—the stress—radiating from his body. Something had happened today at work. And as much as Megan wanted to hash it out with Paul, she knew tonight wasn’t the night for it. She’d have to bide her time and wait. 

For his part, Paul tried to put on a good show. He kissed Chloe on the cheek, and then lowered her back to the floor. “Something smells good.”

“We’re making chicken fa-fa—” 

Chloe scrunched up her nose. Megan knew she was trying desperately to remember the rest of the word. “Fajitas.”

“Fa-heat-taas.” Chloe gave Paul a huge smile before rejoining Megan. “Did you want to help us make them, Daddy?”

Paul strolled over to stand on the other side of Chloe. “Sure. What is it that you need me to do?”

For the next half hour, they worked together to chop vegetables, marinate chicken, and warm tortillas. When there was nothing more Chloe could do to help with the food, she announced that she was going to set the table. It was haphazard, and Paul ended up with two spoons and no fork, but that was okay. 

Chloe was all about helping—she’d been that way from the time Megan moved in. Sometimes Megan wondered if it was Chloe’s way of supporting her dad. She might not be aware of the guilt he was carrying—the hurt—but kids were very perceptive. They picked up on things that many adults dismissed. Maybe this was her way of trying to comfort her father. 

When they sat down to dinner, Paul was quieter than usual. He smiled at the appropriate times, and asked Chloe about her day, but there was something off. 

Megan waited until Chloe was tucked into bed before bringing it up. 

They were sitting downstairs watching television—or, she was watching television. Paul was staring off into space somewhere. “Paul?”

He glanced over at her, blinked, and then sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Yes?”

She could tell by his posture that he was bracing himself. “Is everything all right? I mean, you seem . . . I don’t know. Worried? Stressed? Did something happen today?”

Paul released a breath, and she figured he’d been waiting for her to start in about their conversation the night before. They would talk about that, but not when he was like this. “Just work, that’s all.”

Megan scooted closer. She was on the couch, and he was in the recliner almost two feet away, but she needed to be closer to him. “A case?”

He nodded.

She wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t know if her touch would be welcomed. “Is it . . . I mean, I had the news on earlier. They said there was a woman found dead in her house.”

Paul sighed, and closed his eyes. “I can’t . . . I can’t talk about the case.”

Megan decided to throw caution to the wind. She reached out, spanning the distance between them, and covered his hand with hers. 

He jerked, but didn’t pull away. 

They sat like that for several minutes before he opened his eyes and looked at her. He didn’t say anything at first, but some of that haunted look he’d had before was gone. “I should get some sleep.”

He stood, and she retracted her hand. 

Paul hesitated. 

“If you ever need to talk, Paul, I’ll listen.”

He didn’t look at her. “Good night, Megan.”

She watched him stroll out of the room and disappear up the stairs. Dropping her head back against the couch, Megan sighed. He’d allowed himself to take comfort from her. That was something, right? Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Megan had a feeling that breaking down the walls Paul had built around himself was going to take some serious work on her part.

Pushing herself up off the couch, Megan turned off the lights, and headed up the stairs. Tomorrow was another day, and somehow she knew that once Paul got some rest, his defenses would be back up in full force. 

Chapter 12

Megan couldn’t have envisioned the chaos of the next few weeks if she’d tried. One of the other detectives had a death in the family, which meant Paul and all the remaining detectives had to pull extra shifts. If that weren’t bad enough, as things were returning to normal, some of the officers came down with the flu. As often happens, the illness slowly spread through the department. It was only a matter of time before Paul came down with the bug.

The week before Chloe was supposed to leave for a month away with her grandparents, Paul arrived home one evening looking paler than usual. Megan knew almost immediately something was off. When Chloe ran over to greet her father, instead of picking her up, he hugged her against his leg, and ruffled her hair. 

“Chloe, can you get the milk out for me?” Megan asked.

The little girl nodded, and raced across the room to get the milk.

While Chloe was busy, Megan edged closer to Paul. “You caught it, didn’t you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you are.” Megan shook her head, and took the milk out of Chloe’s little hands.

Paul cleared his throat, and Megan could hear the strain. “What are we having?”

“Pork chops.”

“I helped season them, Daddy.” A big smile stretched across Chloe’s face. She was still completely unaware of her father’s plight. 

He smiled in response, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re such a great helper.”

Megan knew by the way Paul was acting that he had to be feeling pretty bad. “Why don’t you have a seat? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” 

“I told you, I’m fine. What do you need me to do?”

Placing her hands on her hips, Megan fixed him with a hard stare. She didn’t say anything, but he got the message loud and clear. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

Megan, with Chloe’s help, brought everything to the table. As Megan lowered herself into a chair, she placed two painkillers down on the table near Paul’s hand. 

He glanced down at the pills, and then up at her. She thought maybe he would try to argue with her, but instead, he reached for the pills, and popped them in his mouth. “Thanks.”

Throughout dinner, Megan made a conscious effort to keep Chloe occupied. Normally the little girl was all about filling her father in on what she’d done with her day, but Megan didn’t think Paul was up for conversation at the moment. Eating seemed to be taking a considerable effort all on its own.

When they were finished, Megan asked Chloe if she’d help her put the food away and load the dishwasher. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get into bed? Chloe and I will clean up.”

To her surprise, Paul didn’t argue.

He was halfway up the stairs when Chloe realized Paul was no longer in the kitchen. “Where did Daddy go?”

Megan bent down so she was on eye level with Chloe. “Do you remember how your daddy told you that some people at work were sick?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you know how sometimes when you’re around people who are sick that you get sick, too?”

She scrunched up her nose in concentration. “Daddy’s sick?”

Megan brushed a strand of hair off Chloe’s face. “I think so. Which means we need to let him rest as much as possible, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Smiling, Megan stood. “Do you think you can help me load the dishwasher?”

Chloe nodded, eager to help. 

For the rest of the evening, Megan kept Chloe downstairs so that Paul could rest. It wasn’t until bedtime that things got a little dicey. Paul always tucked her in when he was home, and she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t that night. It took some work, and an extra story, but Megan finally got Chloe to settle down and close her eyes. 

Before heading to her own room, Megan decided to check on Paul. She knocked lightly, and when he didn’t answer, she cracked the door open so she could see inside. He was curled up on his side, his eyes closed, and the covers pulled up tight to his chin. The urge to go to him was strong, but she resisted. 

She almost had the door closed when she heard him call her name.

Reopening the door, she stepped inside. “Yeah, Paul, it’s just me.”

He rolled over, and sat up a little. “Chloe?”

Megan strolled closer. “She’s in bed. I had to bribe her with an extra story.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of Paul’s mouth. “She’ll do anything to get an extra story.”

Megan chuckled. It was true. Chloe would do almost anything for a story. There had been times when she’d asked Megan to make one up off the top of her head. Since Megan wasn’t gifted in that way, she did her best to redirect the little girl’s attentions. There were times, however, when it was impossible. 

Paul coughed, and Megan momentarily forgot about Chloe. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone ran a steamroller over my body.”

Megan frowned. “Let me see if we’ve got anything in the medicine cabinet.”

Megan ambled into Paul’s bathroom. She’d only been in the space once before. Not long after Megan moved in with Paul and Chloe, the little girl had caught a cold. Paul kept all the medicine in his bathroom, out of Chloe’s reach. 

Like the first time, Megan was almost shocked by the difference between Paul and most of the guys she’d met. In her past experience, most men were slobs when it came to their personal space, with towels littering the floor and globs of toothpaste in the sink. There was none of that in the room she was currently standing in. The towel he’d used that morning was draped across the top of the shower bar, and the sink, with the exception of a few hairs from where he’d shaved, was clean. 

Although Megan was tempted to explore some more—especially since she no longer saw Paul as only her employer, but a man she desperately wanted to get closer to—she went to the medicine cabinet, and found some cough syrup. Grabbing that, along with a glass of water in case he got thirsty during the night, Megan headed back into the bedroom. 

Paul hadn’t moved.

“I found some cough syrup for you. I didn’t see anything specifically for the flu in there, so I’ll have to go to the store and pick something up.”

“Not tonight.” 

There was an edge of panic in his voice, and Megan immediately understood why. Even though she knew his reaction was irrational, it was also telling. “I’ll wait and go in the morning, if that would make you feel better.”

He took a sip of the water she’d set on the nightstand. “Thank you.”

Megan sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What?”

She folded her hands in her lap. It was the only way she could keep from reaching out and touching him. “Nothing.”