Prince Charming Wears a Badge (8 page)

“More than I'd like.” He showed her the bedrooms and hall bath and then they ended the tour in the master bedroom.

“Are you okay?” he asked as they entered the largest of the bedrooms.

She nodded. “I'm fine.” But that was a lie.

She concentrated on the empty room that had a tray ceiling, making the high-ceilinged room even more grand. She could see where a king-size bed would go, a sitting area by the front windows and also where Tyler planned to put a deck.

She was about to ask about the attic when his cell phone rang. He held up a finger and pulled the phone from his pocket. “Sorry.” He pushed a button to connect the call. “Garrett.”

While he listened to his caller, the nagging thought Callie had been pushing down came to the forefront of her mind. Tyler was a police officer. The police chief, in fact. He had power over her.

Just like Andrew had.

He'd been teasing about having her work on his house, but could she trust that Tyler wouldn't eventually abuse his power over her like Andrew had?

* * *

B
Y
THE
TIME
they were seated in the restaurant, Tyler was even more confused about Callie's change in mood. They ordered drinks and he broached the subject again.

“Something happened at the house that upset you, but I don't know what. Did I say or do something?”

She looked down at her hands folded in her lap and didn't say a word.

“Look, I can't apologize if I don't know what I did.” His frustration was mounting.

“It's not anything you did.” She spoke so quietly that he had to lean in to hear her.

“Then what is it?” His ability to stay calm was waning.

She met his eyes. “It was what you said about me working at your house.”

He let out a breath. “That's what upset you? I was joking. You have to know that.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know it was a joke.” She visibly swallowed. “But if you wanted to, you could order me to do exactly that.”

“But I don't want to.” He was still confused. “I would never take advantage of you like that.”

They were interrupted when their drinks arrived. “Are you ready to order?” their server asked in a slight French accent.

“We need a few minutes,” Tyler told him. “We haven't looked at the menus yet.”

“As you wish. Take your time.” The fortyish man nodded and left them.

Tyler had chosen this restaurant because he knew they could have a long, relaxing dinner. Unlike the chain restaurants that couldn't get you fed and out the door fast enough.

Now he wondered if long was really what he wanted.

When they were alone again, Tyler looked to her for an answer. “Why would you think I'd take advantage of you like that?”

She took a long drink of her ice water before replying. “Realistically, I know you're probably a good guy.”

“Probably? Gee, thanks.”

She remained serious. “You need to understand what happened that forced me to put my life on hold and brought me back to Whittler's Creek. If not for a man having power over me, I would still be living my life the way I chose.”

“If you think I like telling you what to do, I don't. I'm hard-pressed to come up with things for your community service.”

She nodded. “I know. It just made me remember that you're not just Tyler. You're Police Chief Tyler Garrett, the boss of me while I'm in town.”

“The boss of you.” He couldn't help it, he waggled his eyebrows. Then he sobered. “Sorry. I shouldn't be finding humor in your discomfort.”

“You're right. You shouldn't.” But her lips twitched slightly.

“I apologize.” He pointed to his menu. “Let's decide what we want to eat and then you can tell me all about what happened to make you land here.” He opened his menu. “I highly recommend the crab-stuffed mushrooms. Want to start with that as an appetizer?”

She nodded. “That would be nice.”

He realized he'd taken charge. “Unless there's something else that you'd like. I don't want to be pushy.”

She smiled at him. Not just a twitch of her lips but a real smile. “You're not being pushy. You're the expert—I've never eaten here before.”

He smiled back at her and then looked down at his menu. “I've never been disappointed with the food here. I don't think you can go wrong with anything on the menu.”

As soon as their server stepped away from their table after they placed their orders, Tyler reached across the white-linen-covered table to take Callie's hand. “Ready to tell me how you came to be back in Whittler's Creek? I wasn't given details by your therapist, only how many hours you needed to fulfill.”

She sighed. “I'd been seeing this guy for about six months.”

“Of course you had. There's always a guy making the rest of us look bad.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

She ignored his comment and continued. “So, for our six-month anniversary, I brought dinner over to his apartment. He was working late, or so he'd told me, but I had a key to let myself in.”

“I can see what's coming.”

“You guessed it. He was in bed with a woman. I ran out and went straight home.”

“How did his cheating get you in trouble?” He lifted his bourbon on the rocks to his lips.

“He kept calling me and when I finally picked up, he claimed that I'd knocked over a vase and broke it. He wanted me to pay for it, but I said I didn't think I'd done it.”

“A vase?”

She nodded. “An expensive but ugly vase. He claimed its value was forty-five hundred dollars.”

Tyler nearly choked when he inhaled his bourbon. “Wow! It must have been some vase.” He set his drink down. “So you refused to pay for it. So, what? Did he take you to small claims court?”

Callie pursed her lips. “Even worse. He had me arrested.”

“Arrested?” Tyler pinched his lips shut when he realized how loud he'd spoken. “They actually arrested you?”

“Yep. Kept me in an interrogation room until my arraignment. At least they didn't put me in a cell.”

“So how did he manage this? Does he know someone in law enforcement or something?”

“He didn't need to know anyone. He's an assistant state's attorney.” She continued to tell him about the arraignment and the plea bargain that she'd had no choice but to take.

It all became clear. “So that's why you're so concerned about me exerting my power over you.” Saying that made him think of a completely different meaning. Picturing himself over her naked body...

He cleared his throat. “Not that I have any power over you in the first place.”

“But you're the one deciding where I do my community service hours.”

He shrugged. “Only because I was told to. So you tell me what you'd like to do.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Sure, why not? I'm already running out of ideas.”

“Well, when community service was mentioned in court, my lawyer thought I could do some financial work for low-income people.” Her mouth twisted. “That was before my therapist forced me to come here to reconcile my past.”

Another subject he'd like to delve into, but first things first. She could be the answer to his dilemma. “Don't be so quick to reject the idea,” he said. “Tell me exactly what your qualifications are. You're in finance?”

She nodded. “I've got degrees in accounting and finance from the University of Maryland. I've made quite a lot of money for people while working for Dunning and Dunning.”

He recognized the investment company and couldn't imagine why he hadn't asked her earlier about what she did for a living. “I have the perfect job for you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? You can use my skills in Whittler's Creek? That would be great.”

He enjoyed watching her happiness over what he considered a personal win. He explained about the email regarding missing funds and how he needed someone to go over the records to figure out how and when money was taken. “I'm hoping that will shed light on who was responsible.”

Their appetizer arrived. The server set it down between them and then placed a small, empty plate in front of each of them.

Tyler stopped the server before he could leave. “I'd like to order some wine.” He looked at Callie. “Will you drink some if I order a bottle of white? Unless you prefer red.” He was having sautéed scallops and she had ordered the mahimahi special.

She smiled when he gave her a choice. “White wine would be nice.”

“A bottle of the Italian Pinot Grigio.” He pointed to the one he wanted on the wine list. The server nodded and left.

Callie drank the last swallow of her gin and tonic, leaving her with a glass of ice. “Tell me more about the financial problem. You said you received an email?” At his nod, she asked, “Are you able to find out who sent it?”

“I probably could, but I'm more concerned about stopping the drain on the town's finances than uncovering a whistleblower.”

“I can see your point. From what I've seen, Whittler's Creek needs every penny it can hold on to.”

“That's for sure.”

The server came bearing their bottle of wine and, while he opened it, Tyler watched Callie. Since they'd talked about what was bothering her, she'd relaxed tremendously.

He just needed to be on his guard when interacting with her.

Suddenly, as if in slow motion, a patron walking past their table tripped, knocking into their server who was pouring Callie's wine. The wine bottle jerked from over her glass and into her lap.

The whole incident took seconds, not enough time for anyone to react quickly enough before Callie was drenched.

CHAPTER EIGHT

W
ITH
T
YLER
AND
Callie gone for the evening, Poppy was enjoying dinner with Alexis, Madison and Gino. She loved how Gino got along with her great-nieces. They enjoyed his corny jokes, even when they didn't quite understand them. But he laughed, so they did, too.

Poppy's face heated as she recalled last night with Gino. She'd thought her sex life had died when her husband had, but Gino had proved her wrong. She was fifty-nine, but he made her feel nineteen. They'd always had an amazing physical relationship when they were together all those years ago. Who would have guessed their flame hadn't burned out by now?

“Let's help Aunt Poppy by cleaning up the kitchen,” Gino said to the girls. He winked at Poppy before guiding the girls to the dishwasher with their plates. Then he said to Poppy, “You sit down and relax.” He kissed her quickly and the girls giggled.

“Are you Aunt Poppy's boyfriend?” young Alexis wanted to know.

Gino looked to Poppy, whose face heated immediately, and then answered, “Yes I am.” The girls laughed again, silly laughter that allowed Poppy to regain her composure.

Instead of leaving the kitchen, she poured herself another half glass of wine and sat at the table.

“You're really fun, Mr. Gino.” Madison put the silverware in the dishwasher basket. “I hope you stay forever.”

Poppy smiled, wishing the same thing, but knew better. Gino would finish his business deal, whatever that was, and be on his way to his next adventurous deal.

She'd considered the facts before they'd made love last night, but she'd rejected all the reasons she shouldn't have an affair with him. What if this was her last chance at a physical relationship with a man? Sure, these days fifty-nine was still young—and she felt much younger than the number—but that didn't mean she'd have an opportunity in this small town to find a man like Gino. A man who was attractive, attentive, kind, considerate...she could go on and on.

Poppy focused on what Gino was saying instead of her daydreams.

“So I'll be living here permanently,” he said as if in conclusion.

“Here?” Poppy said. “As in this house?”

Gino chuckled, a deep sound that curled her toes. “Only if you want me to.” He closed the dishwasher and turned on the faucet to fill a frying pan to soak. “I was just telling the girls about my plans to buy the old Lincoln Hotel.”

Poppy's eyes widened. “You are?” No one had used the Lincoln as a hotel for at least half a century. Several nonprofit organizations had rented the lobby as a meeting place over the years, but Poppy could only imagine what kind of condition the hotel rooms were in. “Won't that take a lot of work to make it habitable?”

“I've got everything set in motion. I should be able to open it as an upscale bed-and-breakfast by next spring.”

Poppy then heard the words
complete renovation
and
Michelin star chef
, but she was still trying to process bed-and-breakfast.

Gino stopped talking. He must have finished his explanation. “Why don't you girls pick out a book and we'll read it in a few minutes.” He walked over to Poppy and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She tried to clear her head. “Of course.” Her tone was sharper than she'd meant it to be, but she couldn't help it.

“You're obviously lying,” he said, pulling out the chair next to hers. He turned it around and straddled it.

“Why would I lie?” Maybe because he'd just punched her in the gut.

“I thought you'd be excited about my plans. I just closed on the property today. When the girls asked me about staying in town, I thought it was the perfect time to let you in on my plans.”

“You didn't think this would bother me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No, I never considered that at all. Why would it? I figured you'd want me to stick around.”

Did he really not see it? “Because turning the Lincoln into a B and B would put it in direct competition with me.”

His confusion remained. “But you're running a boardinghouse, not a B and B.”

“That's only while Tyler and the girls are here. As soon as they get settled in their new house, I'm ready to make the transition. You knew that. I mentioned it when you asked me about my new website that I was working on last night.”

“I guess I was preoccupied with thoughts of taking you to bed.”

He had nerve trying to make a joke when this was serious business to her.

She rose from her chair quickly and it scraped the tile floor. “So that's what you think of me? I'm just a distraction until you pull the rug out from under me?” Her voice grew louder the more she spoke. She was breathing quickly, her hurt and anger accelerating.

He stood and tried to take her hand but she pulled it back. “Why are you so upset? I thought you'd be thrilled that I'm staying here. Near you. On purpose.”

He stared at her, obviously waiting for her to reply, but she didn't know what to say.

Gino continued. “I thought, especially after last night, that you were as invested in this new phase of our lives as I am.” He paused. “I guess I was wrong.” He pushed his chair under the table. “I'm going to read that book to the girls. You obviously need time to digest this information.”

He disappeared from the kitchen, leaving her to stew.

All the time in the world wouldn't be enough for her to “digest” his plan—a plan that would ruin her business.

* * *

“I'
M
SO
SORRY
,
MADEMOISELLE
!” The server who'd just spilled wine on Callie couldn't have been more apologetic as he mopped up the table and basically everywhere except her lap. Another server and the maître d' had come over to give him a hand.

Tyler had risen to help, but the most he could do was hand her his linen napkin.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to soak up as much of the wine on her dress as possible. She remained calm. No need to get upset, she told herself. It was an accident. No one's fault. She breathed deeply, exhaling slowly.

A few minutes later they were back to as normal as possible with the front of her dress still damp. They'd been given fresh napkins as well as the promise of paying for Callie's dry cleaning and a free meal. “I'll bring you another appetizer,” their server promised. “One that's hot. Again, I'm so very sorry.”

“Thank you,” Callie and Tyler both said at once.

Their server picked up the one that had cooled and hurried away.

When they were alone, Tyler said, “You stayed pretty composed through all of that. I'm not sure I would have remained as calm.”

She smiled and shrugged. “It was an accident. Getting upset doesn't make the situation any better.”

He nodded. “That's true. A good way to look at it. I still don't think I would have been as nice as you were.”

She took a sip of her wine. “I doubt that's true.” She held up her wineglass. “And the good news is that this is excellent free wine.”

He grinned and took a drink from his glass. “You're right.” He held his glass out. “Cheers!”

She tapped her glass to his. “To a dry evening!”

“At least from here on out!” They laughed and their fresh appetizer arrived.

“These
are
delicious,” Callie said when she took a bite of her crab-stuffed mushroom. She patted her mouth with her napkin and placed it back on her lap. “So let's get back to this financial bind you're in. Where would you like me to work on these records and where are they now?”

He swallowed his bite of mushroom. “They're in a storage locker at the moment. I'll arrange to have them moved, but I'm not sure where. I'll have to think about where there might be a work space for you.”

“Sounds good.” She was anxious to get back to doing what she did best. Straightening out and enhancing wealth. And if Whittler's Creek had a financial problem, she was prepared to find it.

“So you said your therapist suggested you come back to Whittler's Creek?” he asked.

“Suggested?” She gave him a wry smile. “More like gave me no choice.”

“And you obviously didn't want to.”

“That's putting it mildly. I told you I haven't been back since high school.” She could tell he wanted to know more but she'd spent too much time today thinking about her Whittler's Creek relatives. She changed the subject. “So, tell me why you stayed here after your dad passed away. And what made you decide to leave the military?”

His expression sobered and he focused on his mushroom. “I guess I owe you an explanation since you've shared things with me.” He met her eyes. “I resigned my commission because my ex-wife went to jail.”

Callie's eyes widened. “Jail? What did she do?” She quickly raised a hand to stop him from speaking. “I'm sorry. If you don't want to tell me, I understand.” She was certainly keeping her own secrets.

He shook his head slightly. “That's okay. You're right, I don't like to talk about it. She's in jail because of child neglect, among other things.”

Callie's heart pounded. She waited for him to go on.

“While I was deployed, a neighbor called the police when she realized the girls were home alone. At the time, they were only two and four.”

Callie gasped. “That's terrible. Those sweet little girls. Any number of things could have happened to them.”

“True. Although she locked them in their bedroom so at least they couldn't wander out into the street.”

“But there could have been a fire or—” She didn't want to imagine what else could have befallen them.

“You can see why I don't talk about it,” he said quietly. “It's both depressing and infuriating. Especially when I add that this happened multiple times. According to Alexis, their mother would often keep them locked in their room even when she was home.” He paused, looking as if he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “Alexis said she was always hungry, but she learned that crying about it only got her sent to her room without food.”

Callie picked up her water glass with an unsteady hand. She drank as if parched. “What about when you were around? Did you suspect anything? Did the girls try to tell you about it?” Her vision blurred as she spoke, trying not to relive her own childhood. She blinked several times.

Tyler took a drink of his wine. “In hindsight, I should have realized when the girls were ravenous whenever I returned home. Alexis did tell me once that her mom was locking her and her sister in their room, but I thought she meant at night. My ex had said she put a lock on the outside of their door because they'd started wandering around in the middle of the night. She was afraid they'd wander outside while she was sleeping.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I had no idea that Alexis meant anything different.”

Callie was losing her appetite. “So your ex is in jail. For how much longer?”

He shrugged. “Her original sentence was three years. I divorced her right after she was arrested and admitted what she'd done. I had to get the girls away from her. I got full custody, and she doesn't even have visitation. In fact, she can't have any contact with them until they turn eighteen.”

“Good.”

His eyebrows rose. “You're not going to give me some flak about mothers' rights?”

Callie shook her head vehemently. “Nope. She got what she deserved. And she obviously doesn't deserve those sweet little girls.”

“My feelings exactly.”

“So that's why they go to therapy.” She said it as a fact, not as a question. “It's helping them? They seem to be well-adjusted little girls, but I don't have any experience with children.”

He nodded. “When we first came back to help my dad when he got sick, the girls barely spoke.” He smiled slightly. “Now there are times I can't shut them up.”

Callie smiled, too. His sense of humor lightened her mood. “They do have a lot to say. Maybe making up for all their quiet time.”

“Could be.” He finished chewing his mushroom and said, “The good news is that their therapist thinks they're ready to stop therapy.”

Callie stared at him. “Really? That's great.”

He nodded. “I know. She feels they've put it in the past and, at their young ages, they'll hopefully fill their memory banks with happier times now.”

“So that's it. No more therapy?”

“Only if I see a problem. If their personalities change at all, or they seem troubled, I need to contact the therapist. She said it's possible that this will all resurface when they're teenagers or even when they become parents themselves.”

Callie's hand shook as she picked up her wineglass. “Do you mean they might be just like their mother when they have children?”

“It's less likely since they've had therapy, but I honestly don't know. I'm not sure anyone can predict that.”

What kind of mother would Callie make, considering her background? That was something she'd never even contemplated.

* * *

T
YLER
OBSERVED
C
ALLIE
become subdued after he answered her question about the girls' potential behavior. He truly didn't know the answer and wouldn't trust anyone who might try to forecast the future.

He decided to change the subject. “So what's your plan when it comes to seeing your family again? Or are you done after today's visit?”

Their main courses arrived. Callie waited until they were alone again before answering. “I think I might try visiting again. Today went well, and my dad and I have a lot of catching up to do.” She surprised herself with her answer.

He nodded. “What about your stepmother?”