Her Secret Wish (4 page)

“So, how do you feel? Nothing broken obviously, but you’ve got to have been beaten up.”

Rachel sighed. “Yes. My left calf is hugely swollen and tender, but no major damage. I was injured in the service but even those prior injuries were fine. I was lucky, I guess.”

West looked at her, interest in his eyes. “Which service were you in?”

“Marines,” she told him with a small smile. “I was a helicopter pilot.”

Yep, there it was. That slack jawed look people always got when she told them where she’d been for the past several years.

“Wow, that is very cool.”

Rachel gave him a nod and turned to look out the window. It had been cool. It had been the coolest thing she’d ever done. Well, besides fly.

That familiar need to be soaring through the blue surged through her. It had been a couple years now since she’d been behind the stick and she missed it like hell. She looked up at the puffy clouds in the sky today. Optimal flying weather.

“You have a faraway look in your eyes. I can tell you miss it,” he murmured.

Rachel blinked and sighed. “Yes, I do. More than anything.”

“Can you not still fly?”

She shrugged and turned to look out the window without answering him.

Luckily, he didn’t pursue that line of questioning.

“Do you know how the other guy was in the crash? Was he injured?”

Dean gave her a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Actually, we haven’t found the guy who hit you. He left the scene.”

Rachel felt her mouth drop open. “Are you serious? He hit me and took off?”

Dean gave her a sympathetic look. “Yes, he did, but we have people looking for him. We’re checking the surveillance footage of the convenience store a mile down the road to see if anything’s there. I got a vague description but I was too far back to get details. There was a lady ahead of you that stopped and had more info, so we’re trying to piece everything together. We’ll find him.”

Rachel sank back in the seat, her aches and pains bone deep and with no closure on the accident to help her put it into perspective. Damn it.

Dean pulled into her neighborhood and drove to her duplex without direction. It was nice to have a cop drive you home. No directions needed. As they pulled up in front of her garage door, Mrs. Lightner, the widow next door, flicked her living room curtains and Rachel knew she’d be having company soon, whether she wanted it or not.

Dean parked the cruiser, hopped out of the car, and circled the hood to open her door. Rachel waited, though it chafed her independence a little. But honestly, she didn’t think she’d be able to push up out of the seat without serious assistance.

Or…was she just yearning to touch Officer West again?

Dean opened the door and held a hand out to her. Rachel took it and swung her legs out, then braced herself on his hand to stand. That solid anchor never budged as she gained her feet and she appreciated that more than she could have expressed. “Thank you,” she sighed, waiting for her bones to settle before heading for her door.

“Oh, wait,” he told her, ducking back into the car. The trunk popped and he went around to retrieve a white plastic bag. “Here are your keys from the car and your wallet and cellphone.”

Well, duh… how the hell had she planned to get into the house without her keys?

“Thank you so much, Dean. My head’s been so foggy with the concussion and stuff I didn’t even think about my things.” She flipped open her handy, dandy cell phone case slash wallet. All of her cards were inside, as well as the cash she’d had. She hit the power button on her phone.

“I turned it off to save what battery you had left. It was beeping a lot.”

Rachel cringed when she saw all the messages and missed calls. “Yeah, I work with a pretty protective group of guys. I was supposed to go work out with a couple of them yesterday. I’ll call them back.”

Even as she finished speaking the phone vibrated in her hand with another incoming message. Maybe she shouldn’t have turned it on just yet.

Dean walked beside her as she limped her way up the sidewalk to her door then waited while she unlocked it. Rachel turned a little uncomfortably, wondering how to gracefully say goodbye. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Really. You’ve gone above and beyond.”

He shrugged away her thanks with a smile. “You don’t have to thank me. But if you’d like to do something for me, maybe you’ll agree to go out to dinner with me?”

Speechless, Rachel blinked, shock coursing over her. With her unclean everything—clothes, hair, face, mind—her heart raced with embarrassment. The man was sex incarnate and she was in the nastiest state she’d been in a long time. Was he hoping she would give in because she was feeling vulnerable?

When she didn’t say anything immediately, he waved a broad hand. “You don’t have to answer now. Take your time. I know I should have waited until you were a little more recovered, but I couldn’t help myself. Just think about it.”

Giving her a look that seemed a little embarrassed, he headed back down the driveway.

Rachel’s heart raced. And just the fact that she had such a physical reaction to his request made her open her mouth and call out a ‘Yes’.

Dean looked back at her and grinned. “I can call you?”

Giving a single tight nod, Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear before backing into her condo.

Gasping, she dropped back against her door and covered her mouth with her hand. What the hell had she just done? There was no sense pursuing this…flirtation.

‡

D
ean vibrated with
excitement all day, wondering how long he needed to wait before he called Rachel Searles. If he called too soon, she’d know what a geek he was, but he didn’t want to put it off too long because he wanted her to know how interested in her he was.

As he backed into the driveway of a derelict building, one of his favorite spots to catch speeders, he glanced at the empty seat beside him. Though she’d been embarrassed and in pain, he’d loved having Rachel beside him. When he’d touched her, his skin had prickled with awareness.

Rachel had an allure for him that he couldn’t figure out. She wasn’t the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, but she was definitely the strongest. It wasn’t very often that he met a woman who impressed him that way, but she definitely did.

Her face was lean-boned and her golden eyes direct, full of knowledge about a life lived on her terms. She was tall enough that he didn’t feel like he was going to break her if he hugged her, and strong enough that she looked like she could take him down if she felt she needed to. The thought of grappling with her sent a bolt of longing through his cock.

Dean’s shift dragged on. He’d sworn to himself that he would give her a day to recover but as the hours crawled by his determination flagged and he got a little out of sorts. The speeders he pulled over probably wished he was having a more relaxed day because he listened to every convoluted excuse then wrote them out the ticket.

He drove back to the substation, gathered his crap and locked the car. Then he strode into the building. There was only one report to write but several tickets to forward to the courthouse. Killian slapped him on the back as he walked into the building.

“You working out tonight, West?”

Dean nodded. “Yup. I’ll be there.”

He seriously needed to work off some of this anxiety.

*     *     *

Rachel called Duncan.
After she spoke with Shannon for a minute to give her the scoop on what had happened, her friend connected her to the boss of LNF.

“Wilde,” he answered.

For some crazy reason, emotion suddenly attacked her. It took several heavy breaths to calm her unease. “Sir. I’m just returning your call. I’m sorry it took so long. I was in a car crash.”

“Are you okay, Searles? Do we need to come get you?”

Rachel swallowed hard in reaction to his words. The solidarity that every Marine had was so irreplaceable. “No, sir. It happened yesterday. I spent the night under observation for a concussion, but they released me this morning. I’ll be into work tomorrow.”

“Damn, Searles. Are you sure you’re okay to return? You can have some time off if you need it.”

“Thank you but no, sir. I’m pretty sure I can be in tomorrow.”

Come hell or high water, she murmured to herself.

“Well,” Duncan told her firmly, “if you change your mind, stay home. Sometimes the effects are the crash are felt more later on.”

Rachel choked out a laugh. “Oh, I doubt I can feel much worse than right now. In the spirit of full disclosure I should probably tell you they had to cut me out of the car.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Shit, Searles! Was this a single vehicle or did somebody hit you?”

“Somebody hit me. Then drove off. DPD is investigating but I doubt they’ll find him. Totaled my car.”

“Damn,” he breathed. “That sucks. That was a nice car.”

She laughed, a little wistfully. “Yeah, it was.”

The car would have to be replaced, too, and as soon as possible. She could ride her bike in the meantime. Assuming she wasn’t too sore to move tomorrow.

“Take tomorrow off. That’s an order. And I’ll leave it open in case you need more time.”

Rachel sighed, knowing it was probably best. She wouldn’t do anyone any good if she had trouble moving in the morning. “Okay, I’ll stay home. Thank you, sir.”

“Quit feeling guilty, Searles. Stay home and get better. I’ll work your ass harder when you come back.”

“Agreed.”

She hung up, exceedingly thankful she had settled in Denver, Colorado. The Lost and Found Investigative Service was incredible. Duncan Wilde had created an environment open to any and every type of former military, as well as any and every type of disability.

When people cycled out of the military, either retired or medically discharged, the servicemen and women were usually left at a loss as to what to do with themselves. The skills taught and encouraged in the service were not necessarily applicable to civilian life. And if they were wounded, or “
combat modified
”, it made it that much harder to find a slot to fit in.

Wilde had created a company that didn’t necessarily
cater
to their wounded employees, but did definitely make allowances for, and adapted to, their new lifestyles. He still required that they all attain their private investigator’s licenses and conduct themselves in a business-like manner, as well as perform physically to the best of their abilities. No matter what their disability, every man and woman at LNF played on level ground.

It was exhilarating. And not something she ever wanted to jeopardize for any reason. She had enough sense to know, though, that she could be more of a liability and distraction at work tomorrow than a help.

*     *     *

Dean waited two
endless days to call Rachel, though it almost killed him. Six o’clock. He could call her after six. After his shift had ended and he’d gotten home. But the benchmark had been distracting as hell. Even the guys at work remarked on his being distracted, but he couldn’t help it. Thoughts of Rachel plagued him, until he wondered if there was actually something wrong with him.