Falling for the Enemy (13 page)

“We are being more careful,” he pointed out. “Any more careful, and I’ll have to drag my ass back to Annapolis for the latest covert training. This need for secrecy disappears after the election, right?”

“Yes.”
Unless I win
. Obviously, if she became mayor the secrecy would have to continue. She couldn’t risk her reputation, or hamstring her effectiveness as a leader by getting caught in a sex scandal, which is exactly what sleeping with her adversary’s son would amount to around these parts. Something told her not to bring that up right now. They were already balanced on a tightrope over what felt like a huge, gaping argument. Shaun sounded annoyed with the precautions—she refused to call it deceit—they were taking to avoid discovery. Tonight wasn’t the time to talk long-term strategies. It might not be a conversation he was willing to have—ever.

The realization hurt more than she expected. “The election will definitely change things,” she murmured.

“Good. So we’ll be careful a little bit longer. Hopefully our luck will hold out.”

Her interior light cast a glow on the strip of pavement visible beneath her door. A new penny shined up at her. She leaned down, retrieved it, and held the tiny talisman in the center of her palm. The profile of honest Abe faced up. “Speaking of luck, I just found a penny.”

“Great. Bring it with you tonight.”

“Why?” She tossed it into the cup holder in her center console.

“Heads, I tie you to the headboard. Tails, I bend you over the footboard.”

“Oh.”
See? There you go. He’s all about the sex
.
This will fizzle out sooner rather than later. He’ll move on as soon as a job comes through.
The thought should have leveled her out, but instead her misguided heart bashed into an iceberg of disappointment and started sinking into her stomach.

“It’s only fair you make the toss,” he said. “I’ve already gotten my wish.”

“Have you?”

“I get to fall asleep with you in my arms, and wake up to the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Life boats launched. Heart rescued. Still, she couldn’t help stating the truth. “I browbeat you into it.”

“Virginia, I think you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you here. But since you appreciate clarity, let me be clear. I want you. In my bed. Tonight. Don’t be late.”

“Or what? You’ll start without me?”

“I’ll start when you get here, but you can forget about choices like headboards or footboards because you won’t make it past the hood of your car.”

Next thing she heard was a dial tone. She hit disconnect, slipped her phone into her purse, and stared out the windshield at the hood of her car. The height and angle offered a thousand fascinating possibilities, and she wondered what constituted “late”. What if she started the engine and drove to his place right now? It was well after ten o’clock…somewhere.

A knock on her driver’s side window startled her out of her panty-melting musings. She turned to see Ellie standing on the other side, Tyler just behind her. Lifting her bag onto her shoulder, she exited her car. “What up, party people?”

“Your polls, from what I hear,” Tyler drawled, and led the way to the pub. “Ellie says you kicked ass at the debate this afternoon.”

“I said you kicked butt.”

“Well, thanks, either way. I felt like it went well.”

“Sorry I missed it.” He held the door open for her and Ellie.

They passed through and stepped into the crowded bar. “That’s okay. I know you were working. And you’re doing good work. Melody’s over the moon about the plans for the cottage.”

“We aim to please… Hey Junior.”

Junior closed in on them, a couple of longnecks dangling between the fingers of his right hand and a glass of white wine in each fist. Voice like a bullhorn even in the crowded bar, he boomed, “Hey Ty, Ellie.” He passed Tyler a beer, gave Ellie a wine, and then turned to her. “Red, LouAnn told me you handed Tom Buchanan his ass in his hat today at the senior center.” He passed her the other wine and tapped his beer against the rim of her glass. “I salute you.”

Around them, other patrons turned their way, lifted glasses and cheered their agreement.

“Thanks Junior. Thank you, everyone. Remember to vote on Tuesday.”

The reminder garnered her a halfhearted response, which told her apathy might be her real opponent, because Tom’s cronies would be the first ones in line at the voting booth come election day. But she didn’t intend to turn Melody and Josh’s engagement party into a political rally, so she let it go.

“Where’s LouAnn?”

“Aw, she’s around, just avoiding me,” Junior replied. “Double D’s pissed because I didn’t go with her to the debate this afternoon, even though she knows damn well we had a fuckload of antique barn wood coming in today at the Browning site.”

“The place is really coming along. I was out there yesterday evening and I could almost visualize the end result.”

“That so?” His eyebrows nearly disappeared under the rim of his backward-facing ball cap. “Who gave you the tour?”

Holy crap. Not a drink in her and already she’d put herself in a compromising position. She couldn’t stand in the middle of Rawley’s and respond,
Shaun Buchanan. You almost caught us skinny dipping
.

“No tour. I was out that way just…because.”
Smooth
. “I got a glimpse at some of the progress, from a distance. Oh, look, there’s LouAnn, standing by Melody and Josh. I’m going to pop over and say hi to them.”

“Tell LouAnn to let me out of the dang doghouse. If she knows you’re not holding a grudge against me for missing the debate, maybe she won’t either.”

“Don’t worry.” She patted Junior’s burly forearm. “I’ll smooth things over for you.” With that assurance, she winked to the rest of the group and made what she considered a very narrow escape from the trap her big mouth had nearly landed her in. What the hell was wrong with her?

You’re not used to keeping secrets. You’ve always been free to talk about whatever’s top of mind
. And Shaun occupied the top slot more often than not these days. Not because he should have been off-limits, or because being with him put one of her most important goals in serious jeopardy, or even because he completely owned her body with barely a touch. Shaun occupied her thoughts so pervasively because he was…Shaun. A cocky, controlled, tortured, sweet, complicated, aggravating man—and if she didn’t watch herself…

Right. Something to keep in mind while trying not to accidentally out herself to the entire bar as one half of the most scandalous couple since members of the flock caught Pastor “Fire and Brimstone” Johnson giving his own personal brand of communion in the rectory with a Russian mail-order bride.

Three hours later, as she said her good-byes and walked to her car, she gave herself a mental high-five for succeeding—at least in part. She’d nursed her single glass of wine all night, congratulated the happy couple, spoken to almost everyone at the pub, and managed to keep her lips zipped about her personal life. But despite the triumph, the evening planted a seed of something restless inside her—or maybe the seed had always been there, dormant, waiting for optimal conditions to take root and grow. Conditions like watching Josh and Melody cuddling, whispering and glowing with happiness all night, noticing how the hand he rested casually around her waist slipped down to squeeze her butt when they thought nobody was looking. Layered on that? Tyler and Ellie. They weren’t joined at the hip tonight, but his silent, obvious radar tracked Ellie no matter where she circulated, and her brown eyes always slid back to him as if she felt his gaze as palpably as a touch.

Roger Reynolds, Bluelick’s golden boy—not to mention Melody’s high school sweetheart and ex-fiancé—had come with Doug, a friend from law school. As she’d talked and joked with them, the real reason Roger and Melody had never worked out slowly dawned on her.
Gosh, what a waste
, she thought, looking at the two gorgeous men, but when she noticed how Doug’s gray eyes zeroed in on Roger’s mouth when he spoke, and how Roger’s hand constantly found Doug’s shoulder or arm, she realized not a damn thing was going to waste.

Hell, even LouAnn and Junior threw off sparks. He circled around her, trying to charm his way back into her good graces, not to mention her skimpy halter dress. She pretended to make him work for it, even though they definitely won tonight’s unofficial vote for couple most likely to be all over each other as soon as they stepped into the parking lot.

Everyone she knew seemed to be pairing up, falling in love, and riding off into the proverbial sunset. And she was thrilled for them, really, but witnessing all the coupledom made her wish for the same.

She climbed into her car and faced facts. Love simply wasn’t in the cards for her right now. There were too many other things in the way. She started the car, steered out of the parking lot, and herded her wandering thoughts into a strict line. Why couldn’t she enjoy amazing, illicit sex with a man she genuinely
liked
, and leave well enough alone?

Because you’re falling in love with him.

Oh, God. She was. Totally and hopelessly. Her heart lurched into her stomach. What the hell was she going to do?

You’re going to turn this car around right now, because the road you’re on leads straight to heartache.

A self-preserving or chicken-shit instinct kicked in. She glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure she didn’t surprise anybody, and then whipped a U-turn in the middle of the empty street.

Red and blue lights immediately flooded her car and, behind her, a siren blared. Goddamnit. She drove a few more feet to where the shoulder widened enough to allow her to pull completely off the road, stopped her car, and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. First time she’d been pulled over in her entire life, and it had to happen now. Maybe the deputy—hopefully Trent—would let her off with a warning? The slam of the cruiser door had her lifting her head and reaching into her glove compartment for her registration. With her free hand, she hit the button to lower her driver’s side window. The crunch of footsteps on gravel stopped by her door.

“My registration is in here somewhere,” she said, without looking up. “Just give me one second.”

“You’ve got one second to put your hands on the wheel where I can see them.”

What?
Her annoyance congealed into dread. She straightened, put her hands on the steering wheel, and came face-to-face with Deputy Crocker. Did he remember her?

“Show me your registration, license, and proof of insurance.”

“They’re in my glove compartment and purse, respectively. I need to move my hands off the wheel to get them.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Miz Boca.”

Yep, he remembered her. “Just giving you fair warning.” She released the wheel and dug into her purse for her license and insurance card, pleased her hands remained steady and her voice sounded calm. Hopefully Crocker couldn’t tell her heart was trying to pound its way out of her ribcage and a cold line of sweat ran down her spine. She handed her license and insurance card over, and then fished the registration from the glove compartment and passed the document to Crocker as well.

“I’ll be back,” he warned and sauntered to his cruiser.

She faced forward and fought back shivers as she watched him through her rearview mirror. When he crammed himself into his car and got on the radio, she grabbed her jacket from under her purse and slipped it on. In the process she tipped her purse over and some of the contents spilled out onto the passenger seat. She stuffed her wallet, brush and breath mints back into the bag, picked up her cell phone to do the same, but then paused. Crocker and his “get your hands on the wheel” attitude freaked her out, and that freaked-out part of her really wanted to call Shaun and…what? Have him monitor the situation via cell phone? That made no sense. Especially since Josh, the fire chief, and Roger, a respected local attorney, were less than three hundred yards away, in Rawley’s. She should call one of them to come out and make sure Crocker didn’t shoot her if she scratched her nose without permission.

The slam of the cruiser door took away her options. No time for a call. Going with a rogue impulse, she hit the camera icon on her phone. It took her only a second more to toggle to video. She pressed play and dropped her phone into the pocket of her jacket. The camera wouldn’t pick up anything worth viewing, but the audio…

Crocker opened her driver’s side door and stared at her in a way that made her feel like a raccoon caught in a foothold trap. “Miz Boca, step out of the car.”

Uh-oh. She did as he asked, never taking her eyes off him. “Is there a problem, Deputy?”

“Several problems. Making an illegal U-turn, reckless driving, driving while intoxicated, fleeing police…”

“What?!”

“You heard me.” He turned her around so she faced her car, and brought her wrists together behind her back.

“I made a U-turn on an empty road. I didn’t drive recklessly and I’m
not
intoxicated. Administer a field sobriety test, or, better yet, breathalyze me.”

“We’ll test you at the station.”

Cold metal touched her wrist. Handcuffs. She blinked back tears. This could not be happening. “It will show I’m not drunk. I also didn’t flee—”

“You continued driving after I flashed my lights at you.” He secured the cuff around her other wrist. “I turned on my siren and gave chase.”

“I’m a measly fifty yards from where you flashed your lights. I never accelerated. I pulled over at the nearest safe place.” She tried to turn around, but he manhandled her back against the car.

“Tell it to the judge. Virginia Boca, you’re under arrest.”

Chapter Fifteen

At ten o’clock, Shaun uncorked another bottle of Chardonnay he “borrowed” from Tom’s wine cellar, poured a glass for his soon-to-arrive guest, and strolled outside to sit on the porch steps. At ten thirty, he went inside, grabbed his cell phone off the kitchen counter and checked the display. No missed calls, no voicemails, no texts. By eleven, he’d left a voicemail on Virginia’s phone and then sent a text. When eleven thirty came and went, with no response to any of his messages, including the additional text message he sent, he gave in to the worry gnawing at his gut, and got in the Jeep.

He knew where she wasn’t—neither the camera on her porch nor the camera at her salon had sent his phone any alerts. Hopefully, she was still in Rawley’s, talking and laughing with her friends, completely oblivious to the time. He could handle slipping off her radar in the midst of a big engagement party for one of her closest friends. What he couldn’t handle was not knowing where she was. His mind took the uncertainty and ran in too many unacceptable directions.

A drive past Rawley’s, however, confirmed her car wasn’t in the parking lot. He hadn’t passed her on the drive in, and he still hadn’t heard from her. He considered going into Rawley’s and asking after her, but people didn’t know him here anymore, and even those who would recognize him, like Tyler and Junior, didn’t know about his relationship with Virginia—he’d come off like a stalker. Plus…a shrapnel-sharp thought detonated in his head…if she’d left with a guy, nobody inside the bar was likely to spill the information to a virtual stranger. He kept driving, and ended up at the only logical place.

Her doorstep. He parked the Jeep up the street, more annoyed than ever about the need to pretend he wasn’t there to see her, and climbed her steps. And waited…and waited…and waited. Over an hour of waiting before the sound of a car engine approached, and then suddenly ceased instead of fading. Doors slammed. Footsteps advanced up her steps, and then stopped. A deep, masculine voice said something he didn’t catch, and then her unmistakable, husky voice replied, “Roger, I can’t thank you enough for tonight.”

Okay, Roger was dead, whoever he was. Shaun got to his feet and prepared for a confrontation.

“It was my pleasure. Honestly. I’m glad I could get you off. Call me anytime.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I won’t need your expertise again anytime soon. I really appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

Her words sounded so heartfelt, Shaun wanted to punch the door.

“Ginny, before we call it a night, can I talk to you about something you said earlier?”

“Sure. Of course.” He could picture her brushing her hair away from her face and looking up at this Roger asshole with her big, green, thankful eyes.

“The friend you had plans with tonight…before…you never mentioned a name.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“I did. You’re not one to keep secrets or hold back details, so the omission stuck out to me. Is something wrong there?”

Her laugh was a monument to irony. “So much wrong, I can’t even tell you. I can’t tell anybody.”

“Is this person important to you?”

He didn’t hear her response and imagined she’d answered with a head gesture.

“Can I give you some advice—one friend to another?”

“Always.”

“After Melody and I broke up I became kind of an expert at keeping an important relationship under wraps, mostly to avoid judgment from others. I justified the measures I took by telling myself my private life was nobody else’s business, but eventually, I felt like I was living a lie. The lie infected all my relationships, including the one I was trying to protect. It infected my perception of myself, too, in very negative ways. I didn’t respect myself anymore—didn’t respect how I slunk along, hiding, as if my real feelings were something I ought to be ashamed of. You’re an open person, Ginny. Always have been. I’m not saying you should take out a front page ad in the Bluelick Bugle and announce anything, but there’s some grace and dignity in just living your life as you want, with whomever you want, and letting people draw their conclusions—whatever they may be. I’m really glad you called me tonight, but I can tell I was second choice. This other person is who you really wanted to call.”

Okay, this guy made some excellent points, but she had called Roger, and he’d responded to the call—second choice or not. Hearing his worst suspicions confirmed made his fists clench and his stomach tighten.

“It’s complicated,” Virginia responded in a soft voice.

“Is he married?”

Their footsteps resumed.

“No! I would never—”

“He’s got a bunch of kids?”

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

“This doesn’t sound too complicated, if you ask me.”

They rounded the shrub-lined stairway and came into sight. He stood, and the movement immediately snagged their attention. The tall, blond man stepped protectively in front of Virginia and Shaun recognized him as Roger Reynolds. His childhood friend. Her current fuck-buddy.

Surprisingly, Roger recognized him too. “Shaun Buchanan. Man, it’s been years. I heard you were back in town, but…what are you doing here?”

Roger had always been a sharp guy, and he didn’t take long to answer his own question. Then his eyes widened. He turned to Virginia—who was also pretty sharp, and now stood between Roger and him. “Wow. Congratulations. I believe you just became queen of complicated.”

Utter silence followed the observation. Shaun fought against a tide of jealous, senseless rage rising inside him. Maybe Roger smelled it on him, or saw something in his eyes, because he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Ginny, honey, would you do me a favor and get me some water?”

“That’s an excellent idea,” he seconded, never taking his eyes off the blond man. “Go into the house.”

She crossed her arms and eyed them both. “No. And no. Either everybody checks their testosterone at the door and we go into the house together, or I stay right here and explain why you”—she poked Shaun in the chest—“owe Roger an apology.”

It occurred to him, technically, he didn’t have any claim to her. Yes, they’d let a one-night stand evolve into something else, but they’d never talked about exclusivity. He’d never demanded it, she’d never offered, and the fact that because of complacency, or unwillingness on his part to admit what he wanted, he actually stood squarely in the wrong tonight only intensified his frustration. “We had plans tonight. I won’t apologize for expecting you to show.”

“Well, that was impossible, because I got arrested.”

His hands were on her before he knew he’d moved, holding her shoulders, sliding down her arms, seeking assurances she wasn’t hurt. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped out of his reach, but not before he caught the wounded look in her over-bright eyes. Feisty, sassy, self-assured Virginia was holding herself together by a thread, and one wrong move from him would snap it. Problem was he didn’t have a right move, because leaving her alone was out of the question.

“A baseless arrest,” Roger said, “in my unbiased legal opinion. She committed a minor traffic violation, and Deputy Crocker dragged her in on everything from DUI to fleeing police. Unfortunately for him, her breathalyzer results made the DUI charge look like a joke and the distance between where she committed the traffic infraction and where she pulled over didn’t support a fleeing charge. Additionally, Ginny thought to activate the video on her phone when Crocker pulled her over, and he neglected to frisk her, so she recorded the entire arrest. I simply pointed out to Sheriff Butler all the flaws in the charges, and suggested the deputy’s true motive was to harass a woman known as an outspoken critic of the department. He wasn’t originally sold on my take of events, but then I played the recording so he could judge for himself. I also invited him to think about how the recording might sound to, say, viewers of the local news.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Butler agreed to forget tonight ever happened if we agreed to forget about the recording. After consulting with my client, we decided it would be best to let both parties put the whole, unfortunate incident behind them. I drove Ginny home, since her car is stuck in impound until tomorrow morning. And that brings us all up to date.” He folded his arms, glanced down at his watch, and then added, “My God, look at the time. We should get going. Let Ginny get some rest.”

“I’m staying.” He didn’t care how high-handed he sounded. She didn’t want him in the house, fine. He’d stay on the porch. But he’d stay. He didn’t miss how Roger’s attention shifted to her, silently seeking confirmation. Some tightness seeped out of his muscles when she lifted and dropped her shoulder in a
suit yourself
gesture.

Roger leaned in, received a hug and kiss from his client, paused to shake hands with Shaun, and then disappeared down the steps. Stillness descended. He was still pissed as hell, but he also wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her, just to reassure them both she really was all right. The impulse didn’t mesh well with the cold front coming off her. Virginia wasn’t the silent type, though, and he doubted her ability to freeze him out forever—especially if he chipped away at her.

“Otherwise, how was the party?”

Her laugh held more sarcasm than amusement. “Otherwise, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

She pulled her keys from the bottom of her handbag and unlocked the door. “The party was great.” He followed her inside and waited while she dropped her keys, handbag and jacket on the small table just inside the entryway. “Josh and Melody are so happy together, which is all the sweeter because they really worked to get to where they are now—overcame a lot of personal obstacles—not to mention an arsonist.”

She didn’t turn to face him. He deliberated, then pulled the conversation forward. “Who’d you walk out with?”

“Nobody.” With an irritated sigh, she stomped a few steps away from him. “Don’t bother saying it, I already know. I walked out all by myself like a dumbass with a target on my back.”

He closed the gap and ran his hand over her back, down each tense muscle under the thin, cool silk of her blouse. “I didn’t say that, or think it.”

“No? Well fine, maybe it was me who thought it, but not until it was too late and Crocker was in my face telling me I had one second to put my hands where he could see them.”

The words came out in a rush and ended on a hitching breath. He took her shoulders to turn her around, but she shook him off.

“I’m tired, I’m sweaty, and I don’t want to talk about this. What I really want to do is take a shower and wash the whole god-awful night off me.”

“I’m proud of you for staying sharp even though you were frightened.”

Now she turned around, eyes flashing. “I wasn’t frightened, I was angry. Angry at myself for giving him an excuse to pull me over, angry at him for misusing his authority to intimidate and harass me, and furious when he ordered me out of my car, and”—her voice broke into a muffled sob and she didn’t resist this time when he gathered her to him—“h-he forced me up against the vehicle and slapped cuffs on me, all the while running down a list of b-bullshit charges l-longer than my arm.”

Hot tears dampened the front of his shirt. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the bathroom. “He wanted to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” she admitted this time, not lifting her face from his chest. “There was nobody around, and nowhere to run, and…and…nothing I could do…”

He set her on the bathroom counter, took her face in his hands and tipped her head up until their eyes met. “Shh. You did everything right,” he said softly, and brushed her hair back from her tear-drenched cheeks. “You handled yourself perfectly.” He punctuated the assurance with a quick, hard kiss that ended up a little more desperate than he intended.
Go slow
, he reminded himself.
Be gentle
. “But next time…” He held her face when she groaned and tried to look away. “Next time you so much as see a flashing light in your rearview mirror, the first thing you do, Virginia, is call me, understand?”

“I can’t—”

He didn’t let her finish, simply brought his mouth down on hers and swept the objection away with his tongue—and all his slow, gentle impulses crumbled to dust under the weight of his frustration. Spending hours simmering in his own worry before getting flash-fired by a hot blast of jealousy did nothing good for his control. “When you need someone, damn it, you call me. I’m done being your dirty little secret.”

As soon as the words were out, a boulder rolled off his chest, and he almost staggered from the disorienting sense of weightlessness. He quickly reeled himself in. He might not have his shit completely together, but he had this one thing figured out. He wanted her. He was falling in love with her, and keeping their relationship under the covers wasn’t an option anymore. “I’m the one. Understand?”

Slender arms locked around his head. “I need you now,” she whispered and pulled him into another kiss. She was side-stepping his request—hell, demand—but her sob flowed into his mouth and tore at him. He took it. Absorbed it. Devoured it. At the same time, he pulled off her clothes until he found the flesh-and-blood woman beneath. His fingers trailed over smooth, pale skin and she shivered despite the heat.

Her energy, the power of her personality, made it easy to forget how small she really was, but tonight he took in her slim shoulders, delicate frame, and wondered at the weight she carried around so effortlessly—people’s problems, including his own, expectations, including the ones she heaped on herself, a desire to bring about positive change. And for all her trouble, payback tonight had taken the form of a targeted incident designed to hurt her reputation and leave her feeling helpless and afraid. Crocker hadn’t succeeded, thankfully, but her tear-streaked cheeks offered a gut-twisting indication he hadn’t completely failed either.

She shivered again and wrapped her arms around herself.

He opened the shower door, turned the water on and let it run until steam filled the small, tile enclosure. “Come here.” He put her under the spray, admiring how the water turned her hair to liquid fire. She sighed and unfolded like a flower bathed in sunlight. He pulled off his clothes and shouldered his way into the tiny cubicle with her, moving carefully as he backed her up against the tile wall. The sight of water running over her skin, beading at the tips of her tight, up-tilted nipples, rolling in thin rivulets down her flat stomach and into the tidy landing strip of curls between her legs sent his needs surging. He silently reminded himself his purpose tonight centered around seeing to her needs—her need to feel safe, protected and taken care of for once, instead of attending to others.