Accidentally in Love (13 page)

“I can…” He was already gone, leaving her standing there in the middle of the living room, one second frowning at the closed door and the next smiling like a complete and utter idiot. “…walk.”

Oh boy. He wasn’t even down the block yet and she was overthinking everything again. She’d learned to deal with a certain type of cop. But this guy, hell, he was almost worse. He actually seemed to care about his cases, without being motivated by the prospect of moving up the ladder.

Not only that—he was also incredibly easy on the eyes and had managed to scramble all of her good sense with a single kiss.

Stop it!
It wasn’t a kiss, it was an incident. A sham.

Ellie had met Sergeant Schilling a couple of times, and he hadn’t struck her as someone who’d be willing to go too far outside the rule book, no matter what the circumstances.

She needed to remember that this was all part of a job. Period. And her role was to somehow convince her best friends and her family that she was in it deep with Poncherello—the one person she’d spent the last four years avoiding. No problem, except for the fact that lies beget more lies, and it was already hard enough to separate what was real from what wasn’t.

Keeping her friends safe was very real; the incident last night…
phew
…incredible and muscle melting, but not real. It couldn’t be. If it were, it would make sense, and not a single thing about it made sense. Not the way his skin warmed under her touch, not the way she felt safe and protected when his arms moved around her like that, not the way his mouth—
wow, that mouth
—made her want to keep kissing him. And it sure as hell didn’t make a lick of sense that the second her lips touched his, nothing else existed, not even Kurt, and he was the reason everything had happened in the first place!

She needed to keep a clear head, and the best way to do that was to stop staring at the door and get moving. First things first: there was bedding that needed to be washed. Mind over matter, right? If she made it look like he hadn’t been there, she could pretend it had never happened.

Wrong. When she pulled the sheets off the bed Brett had slept in, a new scent caught her by surprise.

Ivory soap. The most simple, unassuming scent out there, and yet it was all Brett.

Until that moment she hadn’t paid much mind to it, but thinking back, she couldn’t remember him ever smelling of aftershave or cologne, not even when they all got together for a special occasion like Christmas or Jayne and Nick’s wedding. That wasn’t his way.

No, he was the one who showed up on time, never making a big entrance, never making himself the center of attention, and usually chose to hang back and observe.

Stop it, Ellie. Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about kissing him again, and for the love of God, stop imagining him in this bed last night.

By the time she’d cleaned up, made sure Angie was okay down at the store, moved the now April-fresh sheets into the dryer, and had run the vacuum, she had herself sorted out and was back on an even keel again. Maybe Ponch had been right: if she didn’t overthink things, she’d be fine.

Uh-huh. That would be a hell of a lot easier to do if she didn’t have to spend all day with him again in that stuffy classroom.

She tried to focus on the work, but it wasn’t easy. After what Brett had said, how could she be sure Kurt wouldn’t hurt anyone? He could be anywhere right now—he could be sitting outside waiting for her, or he could be harassing Maya in her store. Or Jayne. Or what if he’d gone to Regan’s? Carter was on his shift at the hospital in the city, so Regan was all alone in her home-based salon until he got back.

Four times Brett called her back into the conversation, dragging her attention away from the window. He didn’t say anything; he just lifted his fingers a little in a “relax” kind of gesture, and each time he did, she managed to stop thinking about Kurt for a while. It didn’t last long, though, and she always ended up staring out the window again, wondering, and Regan’s brief text to her just after lunch didn’t help any.

Meet us at Maya’s after your course.

What the hell did that mean?

They spent the rest of the afternoon being interrupted by Angus, who made snide comments on every topic Brett went over, from safety checks to smart driving strategies and learning to anticipate hazards (including other drivers’ stupidity).

As the kid’s comments progressed, so did the warning look in Brett’s eyes.

“Last thing we need to cover,” he said. “The consequences that come with things like driving under the influence or using excessive speed. I’m sure you all know—”

“Gimme a break,” Angus moaned. “We’ve been sitting here all day, Five-Oh. At least in assemblies on this crap they give us slide shows and shit.”

Oh no. Ellie knew that look. It was the same one Brett had used before he’d locked her in the back of his cruiser that day.

“Okay, sure.” With an eerie calm, he set his book down on the table and tugged his wallet out of his back pocket. “You want some visuals? How about this one?”

He pulled out an old creased photo and set it in front of Angus, who leaned over to have a look, as did Mrs. G. Ellie cringed, dreading what she could feel coming.

“Beautiful girl,” Mrs. G said, pulling it closer so she could get it under her bifocals.

“Eight days after that picture was taken, she was walking to her friend’s house when a kid driving a brand-new Beemer slammed into her. Apparently, he and his buddy thought it would be fun to see how fast they could wind the car up before the cops caught them.”

“Hey,” Angus sputtered. “Dude, I—”

“Or how about this one?” His expression icy, Brett reached back into his wallet and tossed out a second picture. “Those are her parents—good people who were at home packing for the family’s annual camping trip. Want more? I could find a picture of the cop who got tasked with going to their house to tell them their daughter was dead. Or how about one of the woman who came running out of her house in her pajamas to perform CPR until the ambulance got there?”

“Brett.” Ellie’s voice, as quiet as it was, seemed to echo through the room.

“How about a picture of the kid that was driving? Lucky him, he survived, and now he gets to carry that guilt around with him every day.”

Silence almost swallowed the room, until Brett reached over and picked up his pictures.

“Those assembly slide shows don’t mean shit, Angus, because you see this stuff every day on TV or when you play games like GTO.”

“What’s GTO?” Mrs. G asked. “Is that like Monopoly?”

“No, no,” Junjie whispered. “GTO like, uh, video. Shoot up, what you…uh, crim-e-nals, car goes fast fast.”

“Oh dear.”

Brett nodded slowly as the tightness in his jaw began to ease.

“In movies, the hero miraculously walks away after every crash, and in games, you just go back to the beginning and start over. That’s not how it works in real life.” He held up Rosie’s picture one more time. “This is how it works in real life.”

Angus didn’t say anything, just slumped lower in his chair as Brett took his time tucking the pictures away again. No one in the room spoke, maybe because they didn’t know what to say or maybe because they wanted to give Brett a second. Either way, it seemed to be just what he needed, because when he finally looked up again, his shoulders were considerably less tense.

“Unless there are any questions, I think we’re done here. You all have your times set up for the driving portion of the course, but if you need to reschedule, my number’s on the bottom of your sheet there. Just give me a call and we can work something out.”

As usual, Junjie scurried out the door. Angus didn’t even make it out of his chair before Brett asked him to hang back a second.

Ellie hurried to help Mrs. G collect her things, walked her outside to meet her grandson, then stood on the sidewalk wondering if she should go back in and talk to Brett or just go home. She’d known that his sister had died suddenly, but she’d had no idea that this was how it had happened. The coward in her begged her to start walking, to put as much distance between herself and Brett as she could, only her feet wouldn’t move, not even when she heard him come up behind her.

“So we’re good?” Brett slapped Angus on the shoulder like guys do and smiled. Not a big wide toothy smile, but it was more than the kid probably expected. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“ ’Kay. Take ’er cool, Five-Oh.” Angus lifted his phone in salute and jogged off in the direction of a gold Volvo.

Ellie waited for Brett to see her, then took a couple of tentative steps toward him.

“What the hell, Poncherello? Considering all the work I have to do to squeak even a hint of a smile out of you, you gave that one up pretty easily. You getting soft or something?”

He lifted his shoulder a little, the bit of a smile long gone.

“At least make them work for it, like I do—that’s all I’m asking.” Another step, then she had to look away for a second. “I’m so sorry about your sister. Why didn’t you tell me that’s how she died?”

“I don’t know. I guess because up until a few weeks ago, the only conversations we ever had revolved around you telling me where I could shove my badge and exactly how far up I could shove it.”

“Oh my…” she cried, slapping her hands over her burning cheeks. “I really said that, didn’t I? I’m sorry…that’s…Ugh, I’m horrible.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘horrible,’ ” he began, then hesitated and seemed to weigh it out. “No, you’re right—you were horrible.”

A tiny light sparkled in his eyes.

“I really am sorry.”

“One more ‘sorry’ and they’ll turn you into the poster child for Canadian clichés.” A couple of awkward seconds passed before he used his books to motion toward his truck. “Forget it—it’s not like you’re the only one who’s ever said it to me. You hungry?”

“Oh, I, um, I have to meet the crew at Maya’s.”

“Okay.” He looked like he was going to say more and then didn’t. “Come on, I’ll drop you at her place.”

“It’s okay, I can walk.”

“I know,” he cracked. “I’ve watched you do it a few times. But until we know what Kurt’s going to do, it’s probably not the best idea for you to be out walking alone.”

“Right. Okay, thanks.”

The lights were out at The Stalk Market, so they cut up Logger’s Lane to the back of the bookstore that led to Maya’s apartment.

The other two had already arrived and had the kettle on, and while it got a little cramped with the four of them in the tiny apartment, none of them cared. Regan got right to the point.

“Leon was in for a trim today, and he tells me Dickhead and the Skank are getting married.”

Ellie and Jayne both cursed, but at least Jayne did it quietly. Maya didn’t say anything. Her divorce from Dickhead had been finalized over a year ago, but they all knew she still hurt about it. She’d been through the denial and bargaining, had let her anger loose inside their house before she left, smashing things and wreaking havoc like none of them had ever seen, and for the most part, she’d made her way past feeling helpless. But this…

After a few seconds, Maya nodded slowly and exhaled a slow breath as she swirled her tea. “I hope they’re happy together.”

“What?” Jayne croaked. “What happened to ‘I hope his dick falls off’?”

“Oh, I still wish for that every day.” Maya’s laugh was a little brittle, a little sad, and a whole lot exhausted. “But I’m tired of being mad at him, and I’m really tired of hating her. It’s an energy drain and, frankly, I’ve decided neither one of them deserves that much of my time.”

“Wow.” Ellie whistled quietly. “Of all the things I expected you to say, that wasn’t even in the top ten.”

“I’m glad you told me, Regan. And I’m not going to lie: I won’t shed too many tears if he chokes on the wedding cake or if she breaks an ankle walking down the aisle. But other than that, screw it, they deserve each other.”

“Amen to that.” Jayne lifted her mug, and they all clinked.

“Now,” Maya said. “Since you’re all here, maybe one of you can clue me in on why Brett’s parked out back. I saw him sitting there when I went to let Ellie in.”

Regan looked straight past Jayne and pinned her gaze on Ellie, who’d been quietly sipping her tea until then. “Ellie?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me. Why’s Brett parked out back? And more’s the question—”

Ellie squeezed her eyes almost shut and pressed her cup against her mouth.

“—what was he doing parked in your driveway all night?”

“What?!” Jayne and Maya bolted upright so fast the entire couch jerked forward, making Ellie slosh her tea. From her spot in the armchair, Regan nodded.

“Exactly. Now ask me how I found out.” Of course she didn’t give any of them a chance to even open their mouths. “Judy Schwann told me!
Judy Schwann!
The biggest busybody this side of Duffey Lake, and I have to find out from her!”

Ellie scrunched her eyes tighter before finally opening them and charging into what was sure to be a bloodbath. “How did Judy find out?”

“How did—”
If Ellie didn’t know better, she’d have thought Reggie had a small seizure, she twitched so hard. “Not that it matters, but she and Ross were down at T-Squared’s and overheard Warren Link telling Bikeshop Tim.”

“How did Warren know?”

“Who cares?” Maya cried, but Ellie needed a few more seconds to get herself sorted out, so she just kept staring back at Regan until she explained.

“From what Judy says, Warren met up with Dickie this morning to buy parts for his truck, and guess who has front row seats to everything that goes on at your place? Now, if we’re done playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, can we get an answer to the question, please?”

Ellie wasn’t stupid; she’d known it would get out that Brett’s truck had been in her driveway all night. She just hadn’t expected it would get out that fast.

“What exactly did, uh, Dickie see?” she asked, cringing back against the cushion.

“How am I supposed to know? I was still reeling from the fact that you not only spent the night with him—of all the guys in this town—but then you let me find out from someone like Judy Schwann!
Judy Schwann!
I mean, seriously, Ellie. What the hell?”