The Ex File (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 1) (4 page)

She could see why Josh wanted to keep him around for an afternoon romp. He looked like he could carry her, her fictitious dog and three pieces of furniture out of a burning building. At the same time. A touch of guilt flared, but she shoved it down. She didn’t like the time either, but damn, this was an emergency. Capital E.

Josh flung open the front door for her and stood there, also shirtless, with his arms crossed. “Oh, by all means, come on in.” If he didn’t look so pissed, she’d have admired his well-chiseled form. The way it was, she supposed she should consider herself lucky that he’d deigned to wear pants. “Can I get you something? A drink? A snack? A definition of the word ‘emergency’, perhaps?”

His sarcasm fell on deaf ears as she strode into his house and deposited her purse on the kitchen table as she wilted into the nearest chair. “This definitely qualifies, but I’m sorry for interrupting your morning.” It was obvious from the smells of bacon and coffee that his morning had been very differently planned from how it was playing out.

He waved off her apology as he prepared plates of waffles and sundry. When he finally came to the table, he had one arm loaded up with plates and silverware in the other hand like the most practiced of waiters, even though he hadn’t done that in a few years since joining the police department. “Here, eat something so I’m less tempted to choke you.”

She laughed and dug into the plate in front of her. “You’re always so cranky before you get your caffeine.” His response was a grunt, either of agreement or menace, she didn’t know, but the bacon was perfect, and that was all she cared about. He nudged the syrup in her direction with his elbow, but she shook her head. “No thanks, I prefer them naked.”

He snorted as he sipped his coffee. “As do I, and yet, here you are. So are you going to tell me why you made me roust the hottest firefighter in the city or are you going to make me guess?”

Ellie chased the last bite of waffle around her plate with her fork while she rested her chin on her palm. She didn’t want to look him in the eye, because while she hadn’t gotten too ashamed yet, it had been several miles since she’d seen proud. “It starts at the party last night.”

“How’s that possible? I saw you right after you got there.”

“Well, not quite
right
after,” she hedged with a cringe. “See, I walked in and everybody was there, and you know I don’t do crowds well. So I ordered up a couple shots, you know, just some liquid social graces. Well, while I’m waiting for my shots, he shows up. We talk for a little bit, and then he goes, and then I see you. After that, I go over to talk to Tommy and Meredith, and then he comes back and says, ‘Why don’t we go to my place and drink some more?’ So I do. I mean, I haven’t seen him in a while, we’ve got some things to catch up on, whatever. Then we’re at his place, drinking cocktails, hanging out with his dog, then we’re kissing, and—”

“What in the entire hell are you on about? And who is this ‘he’ you keep mentioning?” From the look on his face, it appeared she’d lost him after the first couple sentences.

Hell, this was going badly. Usually her friend was swifter on the uptake. “Did you happen to notice anyone interesting at the party last night?”

Josh graced her with a pitying look before slowly sliding into a predatory grin. “Oh sweetie, you know I did. I’m just asking you to be more specific.”

“About six, six-one, shoulder length black hair—”

“Oh,” he said as his eyebrows shot up with understanding, “
that
type of ‘anyone’.”

As she replayed the evening in her mind, she found herself getting grumpy again, despite the waffles and bacon. “Yeah, that type of anyone.”

“Well, that explains why I didn’t see you again last night.” He sat back in his chair, pondering over sips of coffee until he sat up all at once and slammed the mug down on the table.“Wait, wait, wait. You went home with
Sean
. You spent the night with
Sean
.
The
Sean you haven’t seen in three years.”

“Yeah, and it was awesome, actually. Very cathartic for both of us. We talked for a while, kissed—”

“Had hot monkey sex on every available flat surface…” Josh interjected.

She wrinkled her nose at him in annoyance. “Yeah, that too, but after we talked.”

“And you told him?” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced when he found it to be cold.

She shrugged like she was trying to physically avoid the question. “Why I left? Kind of.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Either you did or you didn’t.”

Ellie pushed her plate away. “I told him I left so he didn’t have to choose. I figured that was enough of the story without getting all the way into the whys and wherefores.”

“And he obviously accepted that, for now.”

“He did.” At least, it had seemed so at the time. Her memory was somewhat fuzzy and still floating in the rum.

“So?” Josh opened his arms wide. “What’s the problem? Why are you here? Why are we not both enjoying breakfasts with our respective conquests?”

“It’s not that simple.” She stood and began to pace behind the chair. “See, I slept over, which is not my usual MO, and then his phone started ringing.”

Josh looked like he’d been slapped. “Before you called me? I take back almost everything I said about your manners.”

“Hush! Anyway, I kinda woke up, and I kinda heard him talking to someone about his ex-wife, and now they’re getting together this afternoon.”

“Mmm,” Josh grunted as he stood and began collecting dishes. “And that’s what you get for meddling. What’s the end game?”

“What do you mean? He and I talked last night about how he was divorced, how he was over her and she wasn’t in his life anymore and then BAM! Late afternoon tea.”

Josh returned from the kitchen with pursed lips and made a face that was clearly unimpressed. “Simmer down, Emeril.” He gestured to the living room and they took seats on opposite ends of his painfully tasteful couch. “Did you believe him last night?”

She nodded, and hugged a decorative throw pillow to her chest. “Yeah, we were both drunk enough that lying might have put us into a coma.”

“Okay, then. You’re gonna have to trust that whatever you heard is much different than what you’re imagining.” He put a calming hand on her arm.

“Why the hell do you have to be so damn sensible?” she groused as she abandoned the pillow and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Josh gave her his most winning smile. “Because sometimes, you get so cray that I can’t even say all the letters. Besides, you don’t own a stable if you don’t know about horses.”

“Not quite sure how I feel about that comparison.”

“Indifferent.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Now, get up, I have stuff I gotta do and you’re impeding my progress.”

“Okay, if you insist.” Ellie allowed him to pull her to her feet and shuffle her toward the door.

Josh paused before opening the door. “Oh, and clear your Saturday. My sage advice comes at a price.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Italian Fest. Wear something summery and look festive. You are now my official wingman, er, woman. Whatever. You’re going.” He knew damn good and well that she avoided that particular local event like the plague, and why.

Every fiber of her being wanted her to decline, but she knew she couldn’t. “Fantastic.” Hopefully in the ensuing week, she could get her freak out under control.

* * *

“You’re supposed to bring the ball back to me, ya goober,” Sean huffed as he chased after Guinness down the trails through Holliday Park. It was a gorgeous little stretch of Indianapolis, full of lush greenery, random jungle gyms, faux Greek ruins, and even had a creek running through it. It was an amazing place to have a date, enjoy the laughter of children, or chase the damn dog over hither and yon in an effort to retrieve a fluorescent yellow ball that was now, more likely than not, unraveling and covered in slobber.

When he’d first met Pia, she was a barista in a local coffee shop in Broad Ripple. He’d just come onto North Narcotics, and managed to come in for a while every day she worked. It took him the better part of a month to convince her to give him her number. This park had been the site of their first date. First couple of dates, actually. A picnic, a summer concert in the evening after a nice dinner, and they’d been perfect together. Amazing, and the chemistry had been off the charts. Their first kiss had been on the ruins; Guinness’s first adventures in puppyhood, on those trails; their marriage, in the middle of the park on a gorgeous Saturday in April.

The park held memories, but it wasn’t as personal as going back to the house, or worse, having her in his. Plus, he had the advantage of witnesses, which he knew from experience would keep Pia, if not polite, at least reasonably mindful of her surroundings.

She was like a Category 5 hurricane, destructive and all-encompassing. If she loved you, she practically drowned you in affection. Her signs of displeasure came with warnings from the National Weather Service. The fact that she wanted something from him, something as big as reconciliation, had him on guard for a full-court press. She was damn near unstoppable when she set her mind to it.

Guinness broke free from the tree line and into the clearing near the ruins and stopped, dropping the ball and sitting down for a rest. Sean, more winded than he’d like to admit, bent over next to him, his hands braced on his knees, as he caught his breath.

“Nice ass, O’Leary.”

Just the sound of her voice made his whole body clench involuntarily. He turned his head to see her walking up looking like a runway model. Freshly dyed ruby red hair up in a messy bun, she had on a pink patterned dress that tied around her neck and left her back open to the world, strappy sandals with thick heels, matching purse, naturally. She was, as always, showstoppingly beautiful. He stood and brushed his hair back out of his face, feeling sweaty and bedraggled by comparison. “Wish I could say it was nice to see you, too, Pia.”

Guinness, however, was more than happy to see his mommy, and ran over to her side, tail almost reaching flight speed. She knelt to pet the dog, and even submitted to his slobbery kisses, surprisingly. “Don’t be like that, Sean. I’m sure my father told you I was sorry.”

“Seems I missed that part.” He started for his car, where he’d stashed a cooler of water for him and the dog. Not to mention the extra tennis balls. He felt the need to keep physical distance between them as a way to keep the old wounds from opening all over her.

Pia and Guinness followed behind him. “Well, I am. Sorry. I was young, and I just…didn’t know how to love you back and be what you needed.”

Sean had to consciously remind himself not to grind his teeth at her words. “Might sound more believable if you didn’t sound like the words were choking you before they left your mouth.” He unlocked the doors and grabbed three bottles of water from the cooler and a canvas bowl from the floorboard.

“I guess I deserve that,” she said quietly, and the look on her face would have passed for contrite to anyone who did not know her well.

Sean filled up Guinness’s bowl—which the big red dog promptly laid siege to—and cracked the seal on his own drink. “So you called this meeting. I’m sure you didn’t want to just stand around in your $400 shoes and throw balls with the dog.” He offered her the extra bottle he’d gotten out as he sipped his own.

Pia shook her head, declining both the bottle and the sentiment. “No, I didn’t. I…came back for you. I missed you.” She took a step toward him that had him narrowing his eyes. If he wasn’t already leaning up against the Challenger, he would have backed away from her. “I love you,” she reached for his arm and he braced for impact, “and I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”

At the last moment, he sidestepped her touch and moved to a more defensible position toward the hood of the car. “Lady,” he drained the rest of his bottle of water before cracking open the one he’d offered her, “you are certifiable.” At her look of embarrassed shock, he tried to soften the blow. “Look, I appreciate, though not necessarily accept, the apology and what it took for you to come out here like this. A lot has happened since we broke up, and I’m not in that place in my life anymore. I’m sorry that you came all this way for that.”

For a moment, it looked like he’d gotten through to her, that she’d heard him and actually listened, too. Then, with a quick toss of her head, her cool façade returned and she was the same Pia he remembered: constitutionally incapable of hearing the word ‘no’ and taking it seriously. “Okay. Well, I know you’re busy. I’ll just go for now. Maybe we can get together later in the week. I really would love to see Guinness some more. Maybe we can have dinner?”

And maybe I’d sooner dine in hell
, was the reply on his tongue, but all that came out was, “Okay, maybe.” For whatever reason, he was constitutionally incapable of making ‘no’ stick where she was concerned. That was his own cross to bear, and something he planned to examine later, with whiskey, and maybe a new sword to entertain him.

She turned to go, but stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. “You’re going to the Italian Fest this coming weekend, right?”

He hadn’t really given it much thought, though the eagerness with which she asked the question was enough for him to say ‘no’ with confidence. “Hadn’t considered it, no. Why?”