Racing Against Time (16 page)
“That’s right, you missed going there this morning.”
For the very best of reasons, she thought. She blew out a breath, feeling a little more in control. “How’s Rachel?”
“Great. Asleep.” She wasn’t the only one fumbling, she thought. A smile spread across her lips as she listened. “I don’t know if I ever said thank you.”
She pulled the morning’s events back into focus before answering. “No, not in so many words, but you didn’t have to. Seeing you and Rachel reunited again said it all.”
“Still, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I’ll never be able to begin to repay you.” His voice was warm against her ear. “Look, I’m having a little party tomorrow to celebrate Rachel’s homecoming. We’d like you to be there.”
We.
He was talking about Jennifer and him, she realized. Had this whole terrible incident brought his ex-wife and Brent together?
Damn it, it’s none of your business, Cavanaugh.
And this is better for Rachel, she argued silently. Children needed parents. One of each. In one house.
Still, she didn’t have to be there to see this particular pair of parents. She knew she wasn’t up to it. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, Your Honor. I’ve still got a lot of work to catch up on and—”
He didn’t let her finish. “Rachel’s going to be very disappointed.”
Callie laughed shortly. She needed to cut her losses and pull back now, even though it was already too late. “She has you and her mother. I don’t think she’ll really miss me.”
“Well, she has me.” Brent sounded just the slightest bit puzzled. “But Jennifer’s already caught a plane for home. She left early this afternoon.”
“She caught—” Stunned, Callie tried to make sense out of what she was hearing. “But you said ‘we.’”
“Yes, we. Rachel and I.” His laugh was low, curling its way into her stomach. Just where she didn’t need it to be. “What did you think I meant?”
“You and Jennifer. I thought the two of you got back together again.”
“What gave you that idea?” Was it her imagination, or did he sound a little annoyed by her assumption? “Is that why you said no?”
“No, I really do have paperwork, I, um—” She was running out of steam. And out of the desire to keep pushing him away.
“I wish I was there right now,” he said.
I do, too, but probably for a whole different reason than you.
Callie kept her voice mild as she asked, “Why?”
“So I could see your nose growing. You’re lying, Detective Cavanaugh. And really doing a very poor job of it.”
She couldn’t suppress the grin, but since she was alone, she figured there was no harm in it. “I’ll work on it.”
“Work on it when you come over tomorrow,” he told her. His voice left no room for argument this time. “Six o’clock. Sharp.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but the apartment looked just a touch brighter to her. Maybe there’d been a surge in the electricity she hadn’t noticed. “Is there a penalty for being late?”
Brent laughed again. “I’ll let you know when you get here.”
“All right, you’re on.” Hanging up, Callie found she couldn’t stop smiling.
By the time she drove up to Brent’s house, she’d had close to twenty-four hours to talk herself out of smiling. She was just the detective on record who had helped solve the case, nothing more. There was no reason to think that anything had changed from yesterday.
It hadn’t. The case was closed. And they both had lives to get on with. Apart.
There were a great many cars parked along the circular driveway as she approached. Too many.
Her car’s engine still running, Callie debated turning the vehicle around and going home. He’d never miss her amid all these people. And she had already said her goodbyes. Why prolong the inevitable?
Making up her mind, she circled the driveway and began to pull out again.
“You can’t leave until after you’ve arrived.”
Startled, she looked out the passenger side. The window was down partially. Just enough so that she could hear Brent. He was walking quickly beside the car, matching its pace.
Where had he come from?
She ignored her scrambling pulse. “Why aren’t you inside with your guests?”
“Because I’ve been standing out here on the front lawn, waiting for the only guest who counts to arrive.”
She had the car down to barely a crawl, but it was still moving. The opportunity for flight comforted her. “Me?”
“You.” He pointed to the left. “Pull your car over there, Detective, I need to talk to you.”
She didn’t know how to read that. He sounded almost stern. “Officially?”
He shrugged. “Officially, unofficially, any way you want to call it.”
She did as she was told, leaving the car parked in the center of the circular driveway. By her count, she was blocking at least four other cars. Brent didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t seem to care.
As she got out of the car, he took her hands in his. She was surprised to feel how cold they were.
“You should get inside,” she told him, nodding toward the house behind him. It was lit up like a Christmas tree, and even with the windows closed, she could hear the sound of laughter. “Your hands are freezing.”
His eyes washed over her, making her warm, before he answered. “They always get that way when I’m faced with something that scares the hell out of me.”
She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. “And that is?”
“Hearing the word no.”
It still made no sense. Callie cocked her head, curious. Unable to fathom anything that would frighten the judge now that his daughter was alive and safe. “In response to?”
“My question.”
It was like pulling teeth. “Which is?”
He searched her face first, looking for a sign that he wasn’t about to make a colossal fool of himself. That she did feel the way he’d told himself she felt. The way he felt. And that her reticence to be here was due to cold feet and not something else.
“Damn it, Judge, you’ve got to say it first. I don’t want to be out of order.” And what she really didn’t want was to jump to conclusions. Because they certainly were jumping at her.
“Callie Cavanaugh, would I be completely out of line if I asked you to marry me?”
Callie’s mouth dropped open. She’d thought he was going to ask her for a date, not for her hand and the rest of her in marriage.
For a moment, she could only stare at him. And then, finally, she found her tongue. “That depends.”
Brent braced himself. He’d gone too far to back down. Not that he wanted to. “On what?”
This had come out of nowhere. The way he’d made love to her had all the tenderness she could have ever wished for, but she wasn’t all that experienced when it came to men. She was afraid she was reading things into it she’d wanted to be there.
And God forbid he was laboring under some kind of emotional overload. “On whether you’re asking me out of some misguided sense of gratitude, or—”
“Or—” he coaxed, still holding her hands.
Taking a deep breath, she took the plunge. “Or because you love me.”
His eyes smiled into hers. Stirring her soul. “B. Definitely B.”
He loved her? He
loved
her? It didn’t seem possible. She knew she wasn’t going to believe it until she heard it. Maybe not even then. “Oh, no, you can’t just spout a letter at me. You have to say it.”
“Because I love you,” he told her softly. “Because I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. Because coming home and knowing you weren’t going to be part of my life anymore was too painful a thing for me to contemplate. You gave me back my daughter and I will always be grateful, but that’s not a reason to want to marry someone, Callie. I want to marry you because you’re you. You’re good with Rachel, you’re good with me.” And then he grinned. “And on top of all that, you’ve got killer legs.”
She felt herself beaming, inside and out. “I’d say that was good enough.”
Oh, no, she didn’t get off that easy. He needed to hear the same words she did, he thought. “What else do you say?”
“Yes.”
He waited. “And?” he prodded.
Could a person feel this wonderful and still live? “Double yes?”
“Callie.”
She laughed, then withdrawing her hands, she threaded them around his neck. The wind had picked up, but she didn’t care. She was warm all over. “Your Honor, if you don’t know by now that I’m in love with you, then you’re not nearly as shrewd as rumor says you are.”
“Sometimes,” he acknowledged, his voice brimming with the love he felt for her, “rumors are true.”
“Amen to that,” she murmured just before he kissed her.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6849-8
RACING AGAINST TIME
Copyright © 2003 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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