Imperfect Justice (7 page)

“I’m definitely not a slob. I can clean up after myself, cook for myself, all that stuff.”

Misty giggled and it sounded like the tinkling of his mother’s expensive crystal bells she’d hung on the Christmas tree every year. “You say that so proudly. A woman is expected to do those things but a man gets brownie points for it.”

“Brownie points, huh?” She wasn’t wrong, but the world wasn’t going to change simply because Jared thought it was unfair. “My parents – my father really – ran a tight ship growing up. He was ex-military and he liked the household to run efficiently.”

“And did it?”

Jared considered her question as his childhood flashed in front of him. There were images of his mother handing out brownies and hugs after school, helping with homework, and basically holding the family together with meatloaf and fried chicken.

His father had been the iron-fisted, straight-talking patriarch of the Monroe clan. He’d pushed his sons and his daughter to work harder, to strive and achieve more than anyone else. He was the reason Jared had played and excelled at sports, academics, and eventually the military. Making his father proud had been goal number one for most of Jared’s life.

Now that man was slowly withering away.

“For the most part. There’s always a little chaos when you have four kids. But there was a schedule for everything and we stuck to it. I think it did make things easier in the long run.”

Misty was frowning at him. “A schedule? What do you mean?”

“You know, breakfast at seven, dinner at six, lights out at a certain time depending on our age. The usual stuff.”

From the look on Misty’s face she had no idea what he was talking about. “I guess we were a little more casual. We ate when we were hungry and we slept when we were tired.”

When she said it like that it didn’t sound so bad. But…

“Did you eat when you were hungry? You said there wasn’t much money growing up.”

It was a deeply personal question but the thought of this sweet woman going to bed without dinner bugged the hell out of him.

“There was food.” Misty shrugged, back to chewing on her lower lip. “I didn’t starve. We just didn’t have extra food. But I never went hungry.”

Jared thought about the dinner table growing up and how it had been practically bowed from the weight of the food. Feeding four ravenous, growing kids had been a gargantuan task and the refrigerator had always been stuffed with leftovers and snacks.

“You know what I like about you, Misty Foster?” He leaned forward and looked her right in the eye. “You sure as hell aren’t a whiner. I think you have a backbone of steel. A
tiny
backbone of steel because you’re just a little slip of a thing but I can see that you’re a strong person. I admire that.”

In law enforcement he met people every day who bemoaned their victim status, wallowing in excuses for how their life had turned out. Not this woman. She sure as hell didn’t feel sorry for herself.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You can thank my mother for that. She always said crying and complaining didn’t change things. She was right. I had to take control of my own destiny.”

“And how have you done that?”

A delicate shoulder lifted. “Art school. And now my painting. I make my living that way and now I earn enough to leave Fielding. Finally.”

“From what I’ve heard it’s not easy to make a living in the art world. You must be good.”

Misty smiled and drained the last of her hot chocolate. “Art is subjective. Some people think I’m good and some think I paint garbage. They’re both right.”

“And the people that don’t like what you paint – that doesn’t bother you?”

“After living in Fielding for most of my twenty-five years I think I’ve built up a thick skin. At least art critics have the decency to say I suck right to my face.”

Laughing, Jared nodded in agreement. “There is something to that. I’ve had people call me every name in the book. Basically cursed the day I was born. But at least they’re honest about it.”

“Do you have a lot of enemies?”

Right now the only one he needed to worry about was Boyd Hicks, and as long as Jared watched his back he should be fine.

“A few, but I’m always open to making a few more as I do my duty. This isn’t a job for someone who needs to be liked.”

“Do you like your job? Don’t your brothers work on the ranch?”

She didn’t realize she’d brought up a complex subject that was still discussed in the Monroe household to this day. Gerald Monroe hadn’t been a happy man when his middle son had announced he wanted a career in law enforcement.

“I do,” he replied, keeping his answer simple. “I help Royce and Ty as much as I can when I have time. Hard work is the best antidote for stress.”

He’d finished his hot chocolate and ought to be leaving, although he found he could talk to her for hours. She had a nonjudgmental way about her that made her easy to be with.

He held up his empty mug. “I guess I should be on my way. Thank you for the hospitality.”

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to have company.” She stood and took their cups over to sink and rinsed them under the faucet, her movements quick and efficient. He found himself trying to see beneath the thick layers of oversized clothes to the woman beneath. Was she slim and boyish with small breasts that would just fit his hand? Or was her figure lush and curvy with a body he could press himself against?

Pushing away the disturbing images, he got to his feet and reached for his coat. Misty Foster was leaving Fielding and she definitely didn’t seem the fling type. Neither was he if the truth be known. He’d had a series of long-term girlfriends since high school, although none had piqued his interest enough to make it permanent.

Now standing, he could easily see out of the front windows of Misty’s apartment and the sight made him almost groan with frustration. The storm that had been worsening when on the way here had already dumped a load of snow outside with a nasty wind that was blowing it all over the road. He couldn’t even see his SUV from the windows that were only ten feet away. Anyone driving in this – unless forced – was insane. He should know. He spent way too much of his time rescuing people from their cars in the middle of winter.

“Well, have a good night,” he said, palming his car keys in his pocket. This was his own damn fault. If he hadn’t teased her earlier about spending time here he’d already be home and off the road.

“You can’t drive in that,” she stated, waving her hand at the picture window. “It’s a blizzard out there.”

“I’ll make it. I’m the cops, remember? That’s why I have a four-wheel drive SUV.”

“If anyone could drive in this it would be you, but it wouldn’t be smart. You can stay here until it blows over,” she offered.

“I can’t put you out like that. I’ve already imposed on your time.”

“It’s not imposing,” she protested. “I made some dough earlier. I can make us a pizza and we can wait for the storm to pass. It’s no trouble really.”

Misty smiled encouragingly and Jared felt himself weakening. She was quite pretty when she smiled, although she’d be a hell of a lot more attractive if she wasn’t buttoned up like a nun. Her jeans were baggy and practically hung off her small frame while her sweater swamped her torso, covering too much bare skin.

Jared couldn’t stop his mind from picturing her in something less…enrobed. A purple satin bra and panty set that matched her eyes for starters. Of course he had no idea if the images he conjured up were even close to reality. And he couldn’t believe how much he wanted to find out what lay underneath. He couldn’t be more fascinated than if she’d worn a sheer negligee or tight blue jeans and a t-shirt. His personal favorite.

“Are you okay?” Misty was looking at him strangely, her head cocked to the side.

Jared scraped his hand down his face and stifled a groan. She must think he was…horny? Strange? Not very bright? All three combined?

“I’m fine, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Then why don’t you just relax while I fix dinner. What do you like on your pizza?”

He peeled his coat off once more before sinking into the comfortable chair. He didn’t mind driving in bad weather but he was also smart enough not to want to do it unless he had to. Besides, he was man enough to admit that he was enjoying himself.

“I’ll eat anything. Surprise me.”

Why not? This entire encounter with Misty had been a surprise. One he wasn’t eager to see end.

Dinner hadn’t been the ordeal Misty had envisioned.

When she’d stood up and looked out the large picture window of her apartment she’d known she couldn’t let him drive home in that storm. She couldn’t even see his truck with the swirling snow that was coming down fast. So she’d asked him to stay for dinner.

And more?

Rayne’s words were running through Misty’s mind over and over again, barely allowing her to relax in his pleasant company. Jared was an intelligent man with a quick wit and a charming personality. Instead of relaxing he’d leaned against the kitchen counter while she made the pizza, asking her about art, books, and film. He liked Tom Clancy novels and superhero movies. He’d been shocked when she confessed she hadn’t seen any of the Marvel Comics films. In fact, the last movie she’d seen had been a chick flick whose mere title made him wince.

Now they were stretched out in front of her faux gas fireplace and lounging on a pile of cushions. Misty had made more hot chocolate and they were both sipping at the sweet, rich liquid. A question had been niggling at the back of her mind over dinner. It was a personal question, but then he’d somehow managed to get her to open up.

“Can I ask you something?” She paused but he didn’t say no. “Why were you drinking at the B&B the other night? From everything I’ve heard about you it seems out of character.”

“I’d had a bad day. Bad news. And you’re right—it’s not my usual
modus operandi
. I don’t think it’s behavior I’ll be repeating any time soon.”

As a rule Misty didn’t drink, so she couldn’t imagine anything bad enough to make her start. “You can tell me about it. I’m a good listener. I won’t tell anyone else what you say. I promise.”

With her fingers Misty crossed her chest like she was still in grade school and he rewarded her with a smile.

“Listen, I appreciate your offer to hear about my problems but I’m not one to talk about things.”

“Sometimes it helps. You never know. It can’t hurt anything. I’d like to help.”

His hands were wrapped around the mug but his gaze was far away. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” He took a sip and then seemed to come back from wherever he’d gone. “Let’s just say I got some bad news on top of other bad news. The kind of news that changes everything. I had to tell my family the next day.”

She studied him for long moment. “I’m sorry. How did they take it?”

“They were shocked of course. Everyone was. We still haven’t told my father.”

Jared’s expression was dark and tortured. Whatever the news, it clearly wasn’t anything good or happy.

“Are you going to?”

His gaze swung to her and his blue eyes were almost gray with pain. “I have to. My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.”

Misty sucked in a breath at the anguish in Jared’s tone. She didn’t know what to say so she placed her hand over his. He wound their fingers together, his larger and rough from work and hers much smaller and softer.

“I’m so sorry. So you’re waiting to tell your father?”

Somehow they’d moved closer to one another, their faces only inches apart and their hands clasped together. Her skin tingled where they touched and her stomach fluttered in her abdomen at his nearness.

“No. The doctor wants to wait until Dad is a little stronger before we tell him. Maybe in a week or so. He’s recovering quickly but he’s so damn stubborn about resting and taking his pills. If Mom were alive he’d listen to her.”

His callused thumb brushed the spot on her wrist where her pulse pounded madly, making it difficult to talk. “At least you have each other. You know, family to help each other through this.”

His fingers scraped through his short, dark hair. “My family can be as much hindrance as help. Royce has spent most of his waking hours partying with random women. Becky is only thirty-three but she has two ex-husbands and is engaged for a third time, God help the poor bastard. Dad spoiled her to such a degree I don’t think there’s a guy on the planet that could make her happy. Ty, thank heaven, is mostly normal and is running the ranch, which just makes him a target for Dad who likes things done a certain way. He’s been giving Ty shit all week and my little brother has about had it. He’s ready to turn things over to Royce, who as I said earlier doesn’t have the best work ethic.”

An outsider would never see the dysfunction in the Monroe family. Everyone thought of them as the royal family of Fielding and Jared was the prince. They had such a facade of perfection it was startling to see a crack in the foundation.

“What about you? Where do you fall in all this?”

Jared turned her hand over and traced a line on her palm with his callused finger. Her body trembled and the blood roared in her ears. “Me? I’m simply trying to hold the whole damn thing together.”

“Your father must be very grateful.”

Smiling, Jared shook his head. “Dad doesn’t do gratitude. He still hasn’t quite forgiven me for taking the sheriff’s job instead of working on the ranch. I knew it would make him angry but I did it anyway.”

“Why did you do it then?”

Jared rested his chin in his hand. “I wanted something of my own. Mom understood and she encouraged me to follow my own path. Dad wanted Royce to run the ranch. I’ve known that since I was in diapers. I wanted to be more independent than taking orders from my older brother day in and day out.”

Misty smiled and squeezed his hand. “You wanted to give the orders?”

Jared chuckled, his lips turned up at the corners. “Damn straight. If you haven’t guessed yet I like to be the boss.”

“It shows.”

His chuckle turned into a hearty laugh. “I like you, Misty. Anyone else would tiptoe around me, afraid to make me mad. You? You just tell it like it is.”