Prince Charming Wears a Badge (7 page)

BOOK: Prince Charming Wears a Badge
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“I've always loved that house,” she told him.

“Me, too.” He opened her bedroom door and moved to the doorway, his hand on the doorknob to close it behind him. He leaned in as if to kiss her again, but she came to her senses quickly. She put her hand flat on his chest and stopped him. In answer to his questioning look, she said, “If you kiss me again, I'm going to drag you in here and have my way with you.”

His eyes widened and then he grinned devilishly. “That sounds like a challenge.”

She laughed quietly. “I mean it.”

He grew serious. “So do I.” Their eyes locked until Tyler spoke again. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

She blinked. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

He shrugged. “If you want to call it that, then, sure. I'd like to spend time with you, somewhere that we're not tempted to jump into bed right away. A public restaurant is a good place to start.”

“I agree, as long as you give me a tour of your house.” She would probably appreciate a night out after spending time with family tomorrow.

“Absolutely.” His eyebrows rose. “That was easier than I thought.”

“You're not calling me easy, are you?” she teased.

“Not at all. Not even after your comment about having your way with me.” They both laughed, keeping as quiet as possible so they didn't wake anyone in the house.

“I hear Aunt Poppy walking around up there,” Tyler said, pointing to the ceiling. She'd had a private suite built for herself in the attic after her husband died. “I hope we didn't wake her.”

“Sounds like she's coming down the stairs,” Callie said. They both stepped into Callie's room. Tyler closed the door, leaving a small gap for them to watch the attic door, waiting for Poppy to come through it.

But it wasn't Poppy who stepped into the hallway. It was Gino, who'd moved into the room next to Callie's a few days ago. He was wearing a white T-shirt and boxers as he skulked down the hall and into his own bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Callie and Tyler looked at each other, their eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Poppy and Gino?” Callie whispered.

“Sure looks like it.”

* * *

A
FTER
A
FITFUL
night's sleep because sizzling dreams of Tyler kept waking her, Callie finally got out of bed. It was nearly nine o'clock, much later than she'd expected to get up as she showered and dressed for her visit to see her dad.

She wore white capris with a pink-and-white-striped tank top. Because it was supposed to be in the nineties, she French-braided her wet hair to stay cool. When it was time to get ready to go out with Tyler, her hair would be dry and she could undo it. She always got compliments when she wore her long hair full and kinky from a braid.

She went down to the kitchen to see about coffee and something to eat when she ran into Poppy cutting up vegetables Callie assumed were for dinner.

“Good morning,” the older woman greeted her.

Remembering Gino sneaking downstairs from Poppy's room, Callie suddenly found herself tongue-tied. “Good...good morning.” She helped herself to a coffee mug and began pouring herself a cup from the fresh pot.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I guess so.” Probably not nearly as well as Poppy had after Gino had left her. Callie admonished herself. The two of them had as much right to be together as anyone else.

“Something bothering you?” Poppy's question sounded sincere.

Instead of telling Poppy the truth about her dreams of Tyler, she told a partial fib. “I'm going to visit my dad today and I guess I'm a little nervous. It's been a long time since we've spoken.”

“It must be stressful for you. I'll be around later if you want to talk when you get back.”

“That's kind of you,” Callie said, putting a slice of bread in the toaster.

“I mean it. I'm a good listener and every once in a while I come up with a good piece of advice.”

Poppy's words made Callie smile. “I'm sure you do and I really appreciate the offer. I'm going to hope for the best and I'll let you know how it turns out.”

Poppy nodded and went back to cutting vegetables.

Callie got out the peanut butter to spread on her toast, as well as a knife and plate. By the time she was finished with breakfast, it was late morning. She cleaned up her dishes and took her cell phone into the living room to call her dad.

Her heart beat wildly as the phone rang. What if her stepmother answered? What would Callie say? Would her stepmother tell her not to come? She was about to hang up when she heard her dad's voice.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Dad. It's Callie.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Dad?”

“Is...is that really you, Callie?”

Tears came to her eyes. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed this man. “Yes, it's really me.”

“How are you? Where are you?”

Callie chuckled nervously. “I'm fine. I'm here in town. In Whittler's Creek.” She paused. “I was wondering if I could come by to see you.”

“Of course!” He nearly shouted into the phone. “When can you get here?”

They made a plan for Callie to come right over and then disconnected. She looked at her silent phone, a little shocked at how easy it had been to talk to her dad. He sounded really glad to hear from her.

Feeling better about going, she went upstairs for her purse and, before she knew it, she was driving the same road she'd driven when she'd first arrived in Whittler's Creek almost a week ago.

This time she didn't hesitate. She pulled right into the driveway as far as she could go. The same car she'd seen the other day was in the open garage.

She wasn't even out of her vehicle when her dad came out the front door to greet her. He enveloped her in a warm hug and she was taken back to a time she didn't want to think about.

With an arm around her shoulders, he said, “Come on in. I fixed us some lunch.”

“I don't want to be a bother,” she told him, sure she couldn't eat a single bite with the way her stomach was in knots.

“No bother at all. I was just fixing lunch. Making an extra sandwich is no trouble.” He held the front screen door open for her and she stepped inside.

Sitting primly in a chair on the far side of the living room was the woman Callie least wanted to see. She seemed small and frail, her now-gray hair stringy and unkempt. With an afghan over her legs, she had her hands folded on top of it. She didn't say anything to Callie, merely stared at her as if not recognizing the stepdaughter she'd raised.

“Ellen?” Her father spoke calmly to her stepmother. “You remember Callie, don't you?”

Ellen didn't respond. Where was the stern taskmaster who'd made Callie's life a living hell?

“Is she okay?” Callie asked softly.

“She's had multiple strokes,” her dad said just as quietly.

“Oh.” Saying she was sorry to hear that would be an outright lie, so she said nothing more.

“Let's go into the kitchen. I'll bring Ellen a tray with her lunch and then we can sit down and get reacquainted.”

That sounded like an excellent plan. “I'd like that.”

Not only did her dad need to fix Ellen's lunch, but he needed to help her eat it, too. By the time she finished and he came to join Callie in the kitchen, nearly half an hour had gone by.

“How long has she been like this?” Callie asked.

Her dad paused with a plate in each hand. “About a year and a half.” He nodded vigorously. “Her first stroke was two days before Christmas.”

“Do you have any help coming in for her?” she asked when they began eating. He had aged considerably since she'd left home. He'd been a tall man in his prime, a recognizable figure from afar, but now he slumped over, as if life had beaten him down. His previously dark hair had grayed and thinned, his skin was pale.

“Oh, no. I can manage on my own. Besides, insurance won't cover that.”

She should check on it for him. “Maybe I can help pay for someone to come in.”

“That's not necessary.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “Tell me what you've been doing.”

Taking that to mean her normal life and not since she'd arrived in Whittler's Creek, Callie filled him in. “I'm a financial analyst and I'm living near DC.”

“Are you married?” He glanced at her left hand. “Seeing someone?”

She shook her head. “No, not right now.” He didn't need to know about Andrew, and Tyler had only kissed her a few times.

They chatted for another forty-five minutes before her dad asked how long she would be in town.

“Probably a few more weeks,” she said as he walked her to the front door. She mentally did the math for when she would complete her service hours.

“Do you think you could come by again?”

Again, her eyes filled up. “Of course.” And she meant it. She hugged him tight, anxious to make up for the years they'd missed out on.

With her stepmother incapacitated, she discovered she no longer feared coming back.

CHAPTER SEVEN

O
N
THE
DRIVE
back to Poppy's, Callie assessed the visit with her dad. He'd never asked where she was staying. Because he'd wanted to avoid the subject? If they'd spoken about it, would he have felt the need to invite her to stay with him and Ellen?

Not that she'd have accepted. She'd barely recognized Ellen as the same person who'd raised her. Her stepmother had been subdued, but that didn't mean Callie would ever be comfortable in that house. Whether Ellen was there or not. Callie had too many awful memories to spend even one night there.

She relaxed her hands that were gripping the steering wheel.

She and her dad had carefully skirted several other subjects, too. Like, why he hadn't contacted her in all this time. She'd sent him letters, gifts at Christmas and for his birthday, as well as an invitation to her college graduation. He'd never responded to any of them. Yet if he was angry with her for not returning before now, he never let on.

Callie parked on the street in front of Poppy's, right behind Gino's SUV. Tyler's truck was gone.

She wondered where they were having dinner and what to wear. Tyler hadn't said whether this was a casual or dressy evening, although touring his house that was under renovation in heels might not be wise. She was really anxious to see the inside of the house that she'd always considered a perfect home. She also looked forward to a relaxing evening after her visit with her dad.

She went directly to her room, avoiding the commotion in the kitchen. It sounded like Tyler's girls were “helping” Poppy. From the delicious smell when she entered the house, Callie guessed they were baking something.

A few minutes later there was a knock on her bedroom door.

“Hi,” she said when she opened it to Tyler. She was surprised at how happy she was to see him. Probably because her day was going so well, not counting the concerns she'd had after leaving her dad's.

He smiled and returned her greeting. “I just got back from work. There was a traffic accident over in Bridgeport and they needed some extra assistance.”

“Was it bad?”

He shrugged. “No one hurt. An oil tanker spilled its contents and the road had to be closed. I've been directing traffic around it.”

She nodded. “So you're exhausted, and the last thing you want to do is go to dinner with me?”

“No, no!” He laughed. “That's not it at all. I came by because we hadn't made specific plans for tonight.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You aren't trying to back out, are you?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “Would I do that?”

“Absolutely,” he said bluntly then smiled. “Too late. We have a reservation at Chez Louis for seven o'clock. We can go see my house before then. Work for you?”

“Sounds good. I love French food.” Chez Louis was one of the nicest restaurants in the area. One she'd never been able to go to when she'd lived in Whittler's Creek. “Will I be able to wear heels around your house or should I bring other shoes?”

He pursed his lips. “I didn't think of that. I'd bring other shoes. Inside isn't bad, but the landscaping has been torn up and it might be muddy after last night's thunderstorm.”

She nodded. “So what time should we leave?”

“How about five-thirty? That should give us enough time to see the house and get to the restaurant on time.”

“Daddy!” One of his daughters was calling him as she came up the stairs. “Look what we made!” Madison held a plate of cookies out to him. “Try one.”

He did as she asked and took a large bite. “Mmm,” he said with overdone enthusiasm. “This is delicious. My favorite.”

“You say that every time,” his daughter reminded him.

“But this is my absolute favorite.”

She lowered the register of her voice. “You always say that, too.”

He laughed and patted her head. “I guess you found me out. I love all cookies.”

Callie was enjoying their exchange, wishing she'd had a closer relationship with her father. Between traveling as a long-haul trucker and Ellen's interference, Callie'd rarely had one-on-one time with him while growing up.

“Would you like one, Ms. Callie?” Madison held the plate out.

“I'd love one. Thank you.” Callie took one and bit into it. “This really is delicious.” Tyler hadn't embellished his review at all.

Madison grinned.

“Aunt Poppy could open a restaurant with her recipes,” Tyler said. “Although I don't mind that we don't have to share.”

Madison asked if either of them wanted a second cookie. Callie declined, but Tyler took two more before his daughter went back downstairs.

After swallowing a mouthful, he said, “So I'll see you about five-thirty?”

She nodded. “I'll be ready.”

He turned to head down the hall to his room while she admired his trim body and wondered what the evening would bring.

* * *

T
YLER
SPENT
THE
rest of the afternoon with his daughters, playing the prince to their princesses followed by soccer at the local elementary school.

When they got back, the girls went to find Aunt Poppy while Tyler grabbed a shower. He could count the number of dates he'd been on since his divorce on one hand. So he was more than a little apprehensive about the evening with Callie.

It was only dinner. He'd eaten thousands of meals in his lifetime. He had manners. He knew how to have a pleasant conversation. So why was he worried?

As soon as he saw Callie come down the stairs to where he stood by the front door, he knew exactly
why
.

She wore a formfitting dress in a dark red. She would probably call it some other name, but he lived in a world of eight-pack crayons. The dress was sleeveless and stopped inches above her knees, leaving her long legs bare. She wore tan high-heeled sandals and carried a pair of running shoes in one hand and a small purse in the other.

Her hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders and moving with the stirring breeze as she hurried down the stairs.

“You look great,” he said when she reached the bottom step.

She smiled and looked even sexier, if that was possible. “Thank you.” She eyed him up and down, taking in his gray slacks, light blue dress shirt with the collar open, and a black jacket. “You look pretty great yourself.”

He was out of practice getting compliments so he changed the subject. “Ready to go?” At her nod he opened the door and she went out ahead of him. The rear view of her wasn't too shabby, either.

He helped her into his truck and came around to the driver's side. He put his hand on the door handle and sucked in a breath. Nothing to be worried about. Nothing to be worried about.

Except that when he opened his door, her light, sweet scent had already filled the cab of his truck.

He was a dead man.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Her question knocked some sense back into him. “What? Yes, I'm fine.” The engine turned over and he pulled away from the curb. “My house still needs a lot of work, so I hope you aren't disappointed. I know you said you always loved that house.”

“That's true,” she said, her hands folded in her lap, just above where her dress had scooted to show several more inches of bare legs.

He jerked his attention back to the road.

“I'm sure the work you've done on it has only made it better,” she said.

“I hope so. I had an architect friend help. Someone renovated the house in the eighties, but they didn't remain true to the original. My friend was adamant about not losing the character of the house and restoring it to its original time period.”

“I've never been inside it,” Callie told him. “What kind of things did they do?”

He made a left turn onto the street where his house sat at the top of the hill. “They put those off-white Formica and oak-trimmed cabinets in the kitchen and all the bathrooms.”

“Oh, no,” she said. “They scream ‘eighties' all by themselves.”

“There was also a lot of stenciling of geese, hearts, things like that. The worst was that they replaced the bathtubs, which were probably claw-footed, with one-piece vinyl shower enclosures.”

“Sounds like it's a huge project.”

“Much bigger than I'd anticipated.” He reached the driveway and stopped. “This is as close as I can get to the house. I'm risking a flat tire if I pull into the driveway.”

While Callie switched shoes, Tyler came around to help her out of the truck. She placed a hand on his shoulder and his hands spanned her waist as he lifted her to the ground without thinking. Their eyes met and he quickly dropped his hands.

He needed to get over this or he'd never be able to enjoy the evening.

So he did what any red-blooded man would do when faced with a woman so sexy he ached with wanting her.

He pulled her in for a kiss that was supposed to end his wanting but instead made him want her even more. She didn't push him away. Her mouth softened and she leaned her body into his.

“Now we don't have to wonder,” he said on the fly when he finally released her.

“Wonder what?” Her slightly out-of-breath tone wasn't helping his libido.

“Whether we'll kiss good-night or not. We've already gotten it out of the way.”

She smirked. “I wasn't wondering about it.”

“You weren't?”

She shook her head slightly. “Nope.”

“Oh. I guess it was just me then.”

Before he could say anything more, she kissed him. Kissed him good. Made their prior kiss amateurish.

“What was that for?” he asked. His body was in overdrive.

She grinned. “I was just curious.”

He liked this game. “Curious about what?”

“Curious whether you would get any more flustered than you already were if
I
kissed
you
.”

His eyes widened. “Me, flustered?” She was absolutely right.

Instead of responding she turned a hundred and eighty degrees to take off down the driveway to his house.

* * *

C
ALLIE
COULD
PRACTICALLY
feel Tyler's eyes on her as she navigated her way to the house. The thought made her smile. Even before coming to Whittler's Creek, it had been quite a while since she'd been appreciated for her looks. Andrew had been stingy with the compliments, preferring to focus on himself instead.

She heard Tyler come up behind her as she neared the covered portico. “The house is beautiful. At least, the bones of it.”

He stood next to her. “I'm glad you can see that with all the work that still needs to be done.” The 1920's brick Colonial Revival needed a facelift, but it appeared structurally sound. “Some paint and a new roof will help,” he said. “Thankfully the roof held up long enough that it hasn't leaked and caused damage.”

They were both looking up at the peeling dormers in the roof.

He stepped to the front door, key in hand, and unlocked it. “And, don't worry, the house has been fumigated.”

Her eyes widened. “Fumigated?”

He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. It had been empty for years except for some unwanted creatures. Bats in the attic, termites in the walls, mice in the basement.”

Callie shivered as she stepped through the front entrance. “And you're sure they're gone?”

“As sure as I can be.” He took her hand. “Come on. I'll show you the kitchen. I've been doing that and the bathrooms first. Then I'll get to the bedrooms and finally downstairs.”

“You're doing all this by yourself?”

“I've done a lot of it, but I've contracted out some of the more difficult things. I can demo and dry-wall, and I can even do some of the plumbing, but things like electrical I leave to an expert.”

She was pleasantly surprised at his ability, especially when they reached the kitchen. “This is wonderful!” She walked around on the black-and-white tiled floor to see the multitude of white cabinets, shelves and glass-fronted cabinets. “I love the countertops.” She ran a hand over the black quartz embedded with pieces of clear glass in it.

“The butler's pantry is over here.” He led her into a narrow room with similar cabinets and countertops running its length. There was even a second sink.

Next they went into the dining room that had peeling paint and a built-in corner cupboard. On the opposite end was a large bay window that drew her attention.

“Oh! You can see into town from here!” The view was breathtaking. The mountains were visible on the horizon because it was such a clear day.

“Yeah, the view is one of the best features of this house. I'm going to add a deck off the back of the master so I can enjoy my morning coffee out there since it faces the same way.” He pulled on her arm. “Come on, I'll show you the upstairs.”

She'd barely had time to glance at the large staircase when they came in because they'd immediately gone to the kitchen. But now she got to admire its magnificence. “This will be gorgeous when it's all done.”

His expression said he was pleased she could see the potential there.

“How much longer do you think it'll take to finish or at least until you can move in?”

They began walking up the stairs to the second floor. “Much longer than I'd expected when I started this thing.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should assign you to do your community service hours here.”

She froze, her pulse beating furiously against her temples.

Tyler continued as if he hadn't noticed her reaction. “And with many more days like this, I'll never get it done.”

“Days like this?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“Being called in to help out with the traffic accident,” he explained.

“That happens often?”

BOOK: Prince Charming Wears a Badge
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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