Fourth of July (21 page)

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Chris returned as he guided her into the oppressive summer air.

Arriving at the Old Ebbitt Grill, they exchanged small talk as they waited to be seated. The food was delicious and the company even better. Delving into his medium-rare steak, Chris realized their time together was expiring faster than a lap on the Indy 500.

Dinner passed too quickly as they talked and laughed like old friends. Neither of them mentioned terrorists, death, or sadness. They just enjoyed being together. They exchanged shy smiles as their hands brushed in the breadbasket. Chris winked at her over his water glass, loving that she blushed in return.

Chris didn’t want the night to end. He paid the bill and helped Alexis from her seat. Taking her hand in his he brainstormed a way to extend the evening.

“Would you like to go on a walk somewhere?” Chris asked as they ambled from the restaurant.

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate with her answer.

He smiled, relieved she wanted to spend more time with him.

“Alexis?” a male voice questioned from behind them.

They turned together.

“Oh, Officer Johnson, hello,” she said.

“It’s Luke, remember.” He smiled warmly.

Too warmly, in Chris’s opinion.

“Luke.” Alexis blushed, glancing at the ground, then back up with a shy smile.

Chris wanted to interrupt. She wasn’t supposed to blush for anyone but him.

“How are you doing, Alexis?” Luke asked.

He reached out his meaty paw to her. Alexis released Chris’ hand, offering her delicate limb to Luke. Luke engulfed it. Chris assumed she was too nice to refuse him. That was his hope, at least.

“I’m fine, just great,” she said. “I’ve been so busy I almost forgot about...everything that happened.” She smiled in Chris’ direction.

Chris wondered what she was talking about. Her near rape experience or was she referring to the bombings? He noticed Luke appraising him warily.

“Luke, this is my, uh, friend Chris, Chris Harmer. Chris this is Luke Johnson.” She inclined her head.

How Chris wished he could claim a better title than “friend.” Especially when being introduced to the competition.

“We’ve met,” Chris said.

He extended his hand, shaking the policeman’s hand with a stiff grip. When he contacted Luke at the police station and identified Alexis’ assailant he’d thought the man was competent and friendly. Now he couldn’t stand him. He was positive Luke was interested in Alexis and the thought bothered him immensely.

“Yes, we have,” Luke replied. An awkward pause followed as they each applied pressure to the other’s hand. Chris knew he’d win this contest.

“Oh, great.” She cleared her throat and stared at their clasped hands, interrupting their strongest man contest. “It was nice to see you again, Luke.”

“Good to see you, Alexis. You take care,” Luke returned. He and Chris gave each other half a nod.

Alexis didn’t say anything more about Luke and Chris didn’t have the nerve to ask. They meandered along the city streets and into the National Mall. The heat slowed their movements. Arriving at the Tidal Basin, they settled on the ground with their legs dangling above the water. The Japanese cherry trees shaded them from the sun.

Chris forgot about the unpleasant encounter with Luke as Alexis giggled at his stories. With her legs knotted like a pretzel and her elbows resting on her knees, Alexis probed him for information about his childhood. He relayed several tales about growing up in a small farming community in Iowa, bragging about his dad, a hardworking farmer who’d been Chris’ hero.

“I remember him getting angry only once. I was about eight, and we were rounding up cattle that had somehow managed to escape from the pasture. This ornery, old heifer didn’t want to move for me. She must have sensed the scrawny boy was no match for her. She ran at me, bowling me over. I fell hard, right into a steel gate.”

He chuckled. “I could barely see straight. The doctor later pronounced I had a mild concussion. But I can still remember my dad, knocking that cow so hard she bawled like a newborn.”

Chris let his gaze drift. Couples strolled by them enjoying the milder air of late evening. A lone runner raced by, his calf muscles striating with each pound of the pavement.

“The only time I ever saw him angry,” Chris repeated.
I rarely make an attempt at controlling my anger.

He wondered if it had taken a concerted effort on his father’s part. His brother certainly seemed to control his temper, even while raising five small children. Maybe Chris was just the wormy apple in the bushel.

“Your dad sounds great,” Alexis said. “I’d love to meet your parents sometime.”

Chris felt his body go rigid. Pain seeped in like acid eating away at concrete. “I wish you could.”

He stared away for several moments, finally gaining the courage to meet Alexis’ gaze. Her dark eyes searched his for an explanation.

He cleared his throat, the words still burned as they came out. “They were killed five years ago.”

Alexis gasped. “Oh, Chris.” She covered his hand with hers. “I am so sorry.”

She didn’t offer anything more. Her sparkling eyes were endless pools of sympathy. Chris knew she was probably searching for the right words of comfort. He should tell her not to waste her time. There weren’t any words that could take away his pain.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“Yeah, me too.” Chris intertwined their fingers, drawing comfort from her touch. “I miss them. The thing that really tears me up is they’d still be here except for the religious radicals.”

She flinched. “Is that why you hate religion?”

Chris turned to stare at her. “I don’t hate religion. Why would you say that?”

Her eyebrow arched, her lips pursed. “There’s some reason you’re antagonistic.”

Chris ground his teeth, unwilling to reply.

“Do you want to talk about what happened to your parents?” Alexis asked softly.

Chris was startled by her request. Nobody could say Alexis lacked confidence. He’d never talked with anyone about the circumstances surrounding his parents’ deaths, not even Dylan.

He gazed at their hands, not able to meet her sympathetic gaze. A deep sigh escaped.

“I’m not really sure where to begin,” he paused again. “Well, first of all, they were, um, they were...Christians.”

Alexis nodded her approval.

“Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate that.” Chris attempted a half-hearted smile.

“They yearned their whole lives to take a vacation to the Holy Land,” he continued. “Five years ago they finally saved up enough money. They were having an amazing trip. Dad called and told me he’d never felt closer to the Savior. I thought it was great for them. They were the best people. I was glad the experience was as good as their dreams.”

“Anyway,” Chris raised his eyes, watching some children playing tag. He avoided Alexis’ gaze as he relived the painful memories. “You know how it is in Jerusalem. There’s always some reason the Muslims want to shoot holes in a few Israelites or vice versa.”

He shrugged, the pain filling his throat with sandpaper.

“My parents,” he tried to clear his throat, but to no avail. “My parents,” he choked out, feeling uninvited tears welling up in his eyes. “They got...caught in the middle.”

A single tear crested his eyelid and before he could blink, the wetness tumbled down his face. Chris brusquely wiped it off with the back of his hand. The last thing he wanted to do was allow himself to cry in front of Alexis. He sniffed once, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid more tears escaping.

“Oh, Chris.” Alexis scooted closer to him and guided his head to her shoulder. Murmuring soft words of understanding, she stroked his hair.

Chris felt a suppressed sob from five long years of heartache tear from his throat. Her compassionate voice and understanding were too much. He fought harder than a 147-pound wrestler thrown into the heavyweights, but he had no chance. Alexis held him, stroking his back and shoulders as he cried.

Chris hadn’t cried since he was a small child. He was grateful Alexis said nothing as he released feelings suppressed far too long.

After several minutes, he gained control of his emotions. Relief and embarrassment intermingled as he brushed the evidence of sorrow from his face. Fighting for control of his emotions, he glanced at Alexis. She smiled compassionately. He wanted to hide.

“I guess I’ve lost my tough guy image,” Chris tried to joke away his embarrassment.

“Not to me.” Alexis’ eyes trailed over his chest and arms. “You definitely look like a tough guy.”

He smiled. “But I’m not acting like one.”

“Oh, heavens.” Alexis released him, throwing her hands in the air. “There is nothing wrong with crying.”

“For me there is.” He folded his arms across his chest, lowering his eyelids. “I don’t remember the last time I cried.”

“Probably when you heard the news of your parents’ deaths or at their funeral service.” Alexis touched his arm with sympathy.

Chris had a hard time taking it. “No, I didn’t cry then.”

“What?” Alexis looked stunned. “That’s not healthy, Chris.”

“I couldn’t cry, I was too angry,” he smiled wryly. “Remember I’m a tough, hardened FBI agent, contrary to the way I’ve behaved tonight.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with shedding a few tears.” Alexis’ hands moved faster than her tongue. “You have to release your emotions every once in a while.” She stopped, a harsh laugh escaping from her pretty mouth. “I should know. That seems to be all I’ve done since the attacks. On Wednesday afternoon I cried on the shoulder of a complete stranger.”

“Really?” Chris hoped the stranger was a woman. He was relieved to change the focus of their conversation off of his parents and his sorrow. “What happened?”

“You know how I had to go into the police station and identify the guy who attacked me.” Alexis shivered.

Chris took her hand in his.

She smiled at him. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Well,” she continued, “he saw me out in the hallway afterward and yelled some more threats at me.”

“No,” Chris growled, clenching his free hand.

He should have made it clearer to that scum-ball Monday morning what would happen if he messed with Alexis. He’d stop downtown and have a “talk” with the would-be rapist.

“Yeah, it was awful,” Alexis said, her voice subdued and scared. “I totally lost it.”

“Alexis,” Chris murmured, not fully trusting his voice. The rage eating away at his insides threatened to spill out. “I should have gone with you.” He had no one to blame but himself for not being there for her.

“I wish you would have,” Alexis’ lips lifted in half a smile, as if she could forget about her assailant by putting on a happy facade. “But as you can see, I’m fine.”

“But I should have been there for you.”

Chris couldn’t believe he had been so insensitive, instructing her to identify the perpetrator by herself. He should have realized how terrifying the experience would be.

Wednesday afternoon you were in New York and you weren’t this comfortable with her. She probably wouldn’t have let you go with her.

“So who was the lucky officer that got to give you a hug?” Chris nudged her teasingly with his elbow. He secretly hoped the man had been an older, patronizing father figure, but at that moment Luke’s face filled his mind.

Alexis leaned into him. “He was a really considerate man.”

“That’s great,” Chris said, less than enthusiastically, jealous of someone he didn’t even know because they had been the one to comfort and hold Alexis. “What’s his name? I might know him from working with the department.”

She studied the water. “Luke Johnson.”

“Luke Johnson?” His lips pressed into a thin line. “As in the Luke Johnson we ran into at the restaurant?” Of course Luke would’ve been with her. The attempted rape was his case.

“Yes. He was really nice.”

“I’ll bet.” Chris’ lips barely moved with the words.

“Anyway.” Alexis waved a delicate hand in dismissal. “Back to our discussion, you have to cry once in a while
or you’ll end up exploding.”

“That must explain my lack of control a few minutes ago,” Chris muttered, still thinking about Luke comforting Alexis.

“You didn’t lack control.” Alexis squeezed his hand, “I think you’ve needed to release those tears for a darn long time.”

Chris didn’t reply right away, the thought of her in Luke’s arms stung. He could kick himself for not accompanying her to the police station. He couldn’t leave her alone for a second. Some other smart man might try and snatch her up. He
knew
Luke was interested in her—what if the feeling was mutual?

“A
darn
long time, huh?” Chris shook his head. He tried to put thoughts of Officer Luke Johnson out of his mind. “Do you ever do anything wrong, Alexis?”

She released his hand and folded her arms across her chest. “What? Of course I do things wrong. A lot of things.”

“Right,” Chris drawled. “Let me think.” He ticked off the items on his fingers. “You don’t swear. You don’t drink alcohol. You’re nice to everyone.” He tilted his head. “Well, almost everyone. I recall saving your life on a running trail and getting my head bitten off for it.”

“But you’ve forgiven me. You know now I was just trying to hide my uncontrollable attraction to you.”

Chris grinned at her. “I like that.” He licked his lips. “Uncontrollable attraction, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.” A small dimple showed in her left cheek.

Okay, maybe he could stop worrying about Luke. “Seriously, Half-pint, I’d like to hear what you’ve done wrong in your life.”

“I do plenty wrong,” Alexis retorted. “I once parked in a parking space for new and expectant mothers.”

“No.” Chris gasped. “You didn’t. And you weren’t a new or expectant mom?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” She closed her eyes. Chris studied her. An older couple sauntered by, smiling at them. He jerked his chin up and returned the smile.

Alexis opened her eyes and nodded. “I’m judgmental about people who drink.”

Chris grinned. “I know. I’ve heard that tirade before.”

She slugged his shoulder.