Courting the Cop (18 page)

Before she realized what she was doing, she flung off her coat and ran up to Brody. Aligning herself by his side, she began to click her fingers and move her body, and they were doing the Shim Sham side-by-side, smiling at each other. Brody’s eyes held hers, alive with energy, infecting her with his euphoria. He wasn’t touching her or talking to her, but his eyes and his dancing did everything and more to her. She felt something cracking inside her chest, like winter ice breaking in the spring thaw, and emotion poured out.

She laughed and danced with Brody, never letting her gaze wander from his. People snapped their fingers and slapped hands on hips in time to the music, but they were nothing but a background blur. She had eyes only for Brody.

Maybe that was why, as they neared the end of the routine, she stumbled and would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Brody, who leaped in and held her arm.

“Steady there,” he murmured, his lips not far from her.

How could she be remotely steady when he was touching her, his body leaning so deliciously close? For a moment she could only stare at him with open longing.

His hand tightened. “Let’s get out of here.”

She nodded, mute, and he slid his hand down her arm to entwine his fingers with hers. The other cops protested, calling for another dance, but Brody ignored them, and Abigail clung to his hand, oblivious to everything except him. He grabbed their coats and led her out of the crowded bullpen, his grip firm and warm and urgent. Outside the station, freezing night air made a grab, but Abigail was too blissed out to feel the cold.

Brody tugged her into his arms, spun her round, and pressed her up against his parked car. Her heart jumped with excitement as she waited for him to kiss her, finally, but instead he stroked her hair and cheeks with hands that were clearly unsteady.

“Well?” His eyes searched hers, the usual cockiness replaced by yearning, and maybe even desperation. “Do you think I’m good enough to take you to your fifties dance?”

“Oh, Brody. I can’t believe you’d do something like this just for me.” Her voice shook as it sank in—what he’d done, what it meant. To him, to her. Reaching up, she traced her fingertips over his stubbled jaw. “I would be so happy and proud to take you anywhere, Brody Donovan.”

He made a choking sound, and then his mouth was on hers and her entire being lit up. They kissed eagerly, desperately, hands and lips caressing, exciting. They were lost to the world, and she never wanted to be found.

Eventually they had to break off, and the air between them steamed white.

“I’m scared,” Brody croaked out, gasping for air.

“Of what?”

“Of screwing up. Of not measuring up. Of hurting you.”

Her heart swelled with love at his brutal honesty. She cupped his face between her hands. “I’m scared too. I’m scared of not being enough. Of boring you. Of losing you to some random thug on the streets.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, his expression anxious. “I don’t have much experience with relationships—not any, to be honest—but I want one with you, Abby. I want it so bad, and that’s why I’m counting on you to tell me when I slip up. Tell me to my face in words I can understand, because I’m no good at woman-talk.”

“You’re better than you think.” She smiled, stroking her fingers over his ears. He had the most delicious ears, she realized, and she was dying to nip his earlobe with her teeth. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she drew his head down to hers and whispered, “In fact, after that dance, I think you’ll be incredible at this, Brody Donovan.”

He actually blushed with pleasure. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. I put on a macho front to cover my inadequacies, but for you I’m going to do everything—everything—to prove myself worthy of you.”

“I’d say you’re already doing that,” she whispered. She tightened her grip around his neck, her heart swelling with emotion. She was head-over-heels giddily in love with Brody, and she sensed he felt the same about her. She also sensed that those serious declarations could not be made tonight, that they deserved their own special moment. “And you aren’t inadequate at all. You’re magnificent.”

“You honestly think that?”

“I know that.”

Their heads rested together, and for a little while they stood in silence, savoring the moment.

Eventually, she reached up to nibble his earlobe. “Now take me home, Detective, and I might tell how magnificent you are again, once we’ve done the Shim Sham together.”

He squeezed her waist, and she sensed desire swelling between them, hotter and sweeter than ever.

“You’re definitely going to tell me that.” His lips brushed against hers. “Especially after I show you my own special Shim Sham moves.”

Epilogue

Brody’s car pulled up at the curb with a slight screech. Abigail jumped in and was instantly enveloped in Brody’s arms, his mouth coming down hard on hers.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he muttered as he lavished kisses down her neck.

Brody had been on late shift the whole week, and it was playing havoc with their sex lives. Abigail squeezed him tighter, desperate to get as close to him as possible. A few more kisses and he broke away from her with a groan.

“Enough, or we’ll be late for Mom’s lunch, and everyone will have a wisecrack for us when we do show up.”

“I do love Sundays at your mom’s.” The Donovans were all heart and soul, and she loved being with them, wisecracks and tough roast beef and all.

A couple of months had passed since Brody had stunned her with his Shim Sham at the station. Brody still had his own apartment, but he’d practically moved in with her. So far, he hadn’t shown any signs of missing his old bachelor lifestyle. In fact, he had booked a spring vacation in Mexico for the two of them, much to the surprise of his family and friends.

Winter had been busy for Abigail. Katherine O’Brien spent more time at Abigail’s store, and had even begun to chat to a few of the regulars. She needed the support, especially after her visits to her son in jail. With the Spikers in retreat, the shopping strip showed signed of recovery. Abigail’s new knitting and crocheting classes were popular, and business in her yarn store had picked up. The old deli store had been rented out to a friendly couple, who were reopening in a few weeks.

After all this activity, Abigail was looking forward to spending a week alone with the man she adored. Each time she saw him, her heart gave that funny stutter of happiness, and deep down she knew she’d never get tired of that feeling.

Brody brushed her hair away from her face. “Before we go, I’ve got something for you.” He reached into the back seat and lifted a square parcel which he pushed into her hands.

“But Christmas is over,” she said, gazing in surprise at the gift.

“Just open it, will you?”

She felt his tension rise as she unwrapped the gift to reveal a slim, leather-bound book.

“A book of poems,” she breathed, running her fingers over the tooled leather.

“To replace the one you threw away. Hopefully you’ll keep mine forever.” He scratched his chin, an anxious look tugging at his lips. “I wrote something in there for you.”

Holding her breath, she opened the book, not knowing what to expect.

I stole an orange, but you stole my heart.

I act all tough, but you make me strong.

I thought I didn’t need love, but you gave me love anyway.

I am just a man, but you are everything.

I love you, Abigail.

She lifted her gaze to him, speechless. Finally he’d written the words she’d longed to hear. Words she’d almost spilled to him several times.

He reached across and cupped her face in both his hands. “I love you,” he said. His voice was deep, his eyes filled with honesty. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, but now I feel like I’ve finally earned the right to say it to you.”

“Oh, Brody.” She was trembling, but his hands were rock-steady. “I love you too,” she choked out.

His face lit up. “That’s good. Because I’m gonna be around for a while.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” A small frown clouded his brow. “So what d’you think of the rest of my poem?”

Her heart swelled as she traced the earnest lines of his face with her fingertips. “It’s amazing. Like you are.”

“You think?” He scraped his thumbnail along his jaw. “I had a helluva time coming up with those lines. I’m no Emily Dickinson. All I could think of was
Roses are red, violets are blue
, but I knew that wasn’t good enough for you.”

Blinking back tears, she hugged him, the precious book sandwiched between them. “Oh, Brody, your words come from your heart, and that means the world to me.”

Love lit up his eyes as he bent to kiss her, and she knew that everything he was came from the heart, and that would always be more than good enough.

About the Author

Coleen Kwan has been a bookworm all her life. At school English was her favorite subject, but for some reason she decided on a career in IT. After many years of programming, she wondered what else there was in life—and discovered writing. She loves writing contemporary romance and steampunk romance.

Coleen lives in Sydney, Australia with her partner and two children. When she isn’t writing she enjoys avoiding housework, eating chocolate, and watching TV shows like
Criminal Minds
and
Bob’s Burgers
.

Coleen can be contacted at the following places:

Website:
www.coleenkwan.com

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/coleenkwan.authorpage

Twitter:
www.twitter.com/ColeenKwan

Sign up for her newsletter at
www.coleenkwan.com/p/contact-me.html
.

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