Safe in His Arms (6 page)

“Did your parents make you feel invisible?”

“No. Or at least if they did, they would never have intended to. They just wanted me to be more like her. To be more dedicated. More determined to succeed.” She held her hands wide. “None of those were bad things. How could I blame them for wanting me to be more like her?”

Maybe she couldn't blame them, but he could. What kind of parents so obviously favored one of their children over the other one, no matter how awesome she was? And what kind of parent could fail to see how amazing Lindsay was? But he didn't tell her any of that. How could he without admitting that he'd been thinking about her too much himself?

“I know something about high expectations,” he said instead.

“How's that?”

“I'm a third-generation Michigan State Trooper, and my grandfather and father were Gino and Leo Rossetti, two of the most decorated post commanders in Michigan history. Do you think there are any expectations in that?”

“Some,” she said with a smile.

“For Christmas every year, Dad got my brother and me new police badges, holsters and model police cars. Joey Rossetti never would have been caught dead play
ing cowboys and outlaws. David and I were hard-nosed police detectives, and we were always chasing fleeing suspects.”

“Joey?”

“Old nickname,” he explained. “I outgrew that one a few decades ago, so it's off-limits.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Sipping her tea, she set the cup back on the table. “You do understand.”

He lifted a brow, waiting for her to explain.

“The expectations.”

“I understand, all right.”

“So, is your brother a trooper, too?”

“Surprisingly, no. There was practically a national incident when David decided not to join the ‘family business,' but Dad and Grandpa eventually got over it. David didn't escape the whole law-enforcement bug completely, though. He and his wife are both assistant prosecutors in Kalamazoo.”

“Then let me guess. Your mom's a judge.”

His game face must have faltered a bit because her gaze narrowed. “Oh, no. You haven't mentioned your mom at all. She's not—”

He nodded. “She died when I was eight and David was twelve. Cancer.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

“You couldn't have known. Don't worry about it.”

Strange how he was tempted to tell Lindsay more about his mother. He never talked about her. But for some reason, he wanted Lindsay to know that it was his mother's death, rather than his father's life, that led him to a career in law enforcement. He wanted to tell her other things, too, as if Lindsay's accident bound them somehow, making him want her to know as much about him as he knew about her.

It was a bad idea for him to allow himself to get too close to Lindsay and Emma. He didn't do that with people. He'd tried that once with Chelsea, but that relationship had gone up in flames as a reminder that his walls were there for a good reason. Lindsay was wearing down his defenses now, and he was letting it happen.

“I'm sorry I bought it up.”

Joe blinked, realizing that she'd guessed he was still thinking about his mother.

“No. It's fine, really. I was just thinking about work.” As far as
work
involved a certain victim in one of his accident cases, anyway.

She nodded, accepting his flimsy explanation.

“It's going to be really hot again tomorrow,” she began. “I was thinking that…maybe…since I don't work tomorrow…that Emma and I would go to the beach at Kensington Metropark.” She cleared her throat. “Would you like to meet us there?”

“The beach?”

Joe was grateful that at least his voice hadn't cracked. This was different from yesterday, when he'd invited himself to her condo to give her unsolicited advice, or even an hour ago, when she'd called him out of desperation. She'd invited
him.

“You know, the place with the water and the sand?”

“Oh, I meant
which
beach at Kensington. You know there are two at that park, right?” And good thing for him that there were because he hadn't been this awkward around a female since the eighth grade.

“Martindale Beach, I guess. If you'll be too tired after tonight and after your shift tomorrow, I'll under—”

“Sounds like fun,” Joe answered before she could
offer to understand anything. She'd spent too much time
understanding.
From parents who didn't deserve any excuses to a sister who probably hadn't tried hard enough to share the stage. Even from a guy like him, who didn't have the guts to tell her the whole truth.

“Are you sure? It's just that I wanted to take Emma, and I'm worried that I might need an extra pair of hands.”

“I'd be happy to go.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Lindsay needed him, after all, as a friend. She deserved to have someone on her side for once, at least until she became confident enough to challenge her parents' belief that she wouldn't make a good guardian. He shouldn't get closer to her. It was a risk, and he had enough of those at work with him clearly being off his game. But there was no way that he would leave this condo without letting Lindsay know one thing: she was not alone.

J
oe threw his police cruiser into Park and slammed his laptop next to him with such force that he had to open it again to see if he'd caused any damage. He would have a tough time explaining to Lieutenant Dawson that he'd destroyed state property all because he was frustrated.

He shook his head as he shoved open the car door.
Frustrated
didn't begin to describe what he'd been feeling from the moment he'd pulled his patrol car out on Interstate 96 this morning. Okay, he was exhausted from operating on less sleep than even the minuscule amount that had been his norm since a certain redhead had shown up and sent his focus careening off course. Still, even that didn't account for the sense of foreboding that had settled like a concrete block on his chest.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Joe jerked at the sound and turned to give Trooper Celeste Addington a look that could kill. But Celeste and Trooper Brody Davison were standing less than ten feet away from him, and both were grinning like they knew a secret. His secret. How could he have missed their approach, if not in his side-view mirror, then at
least from the thuds of their boots? Were his nerves wound so tightly that his hearing was on the blink, too?

“Both of you will give me some space today, if you know what's good for you.”

He tilted his head, trying to stretch his neck, but he doubted even a masseuse could get the kinks out after an eight-hour shift with his muscles in a constant state of flex.

Brody, one of the new academy graduates to be assigned to the Brighton Post, bent his massive frame and leaned his head toward the petite brunette. “He's telling us to back off. I think that's downright unfriendly.”

“Yeah. The cat that dragged him probably wishes she'd left him outside.” Celeste removed her hat and brushed at the few hairs that had escaped from her tight bun.

Straightening, Brody looked over to Joe again. “I sure hope you weren't using that nice-guy treatment when you were dealing with the public today.”

“Just part of my charm.”

“Yeah, you're charming the way Oscar the Grouch is charming,” Celeste said. “Especially the last few days.”

Joe frowned. So much for nobody noticing that his head was out of the game. “I don't know about you two, but I've got work to do.”

He brushed past them and headed to the building's back entrance. That laughter followed him all the way inside and only unsettled him more. Usually, he would have been telling the jokes, but there was no “usual” for him since the accident had messed with his confidence.

He'd just slumped into one of the open office chairs and logged on to the desktop computer when he had the prickly sense that he wasn't alone. He glanced back
over his shoulder to find his best friend, Brett Lancaster, watching him.

“What are you looking at, Lancaster? I mean Lieutenant, sir.” He stood up from his seat. For some reason, he just couldn't remember to call his former partner by his new job title.

Brett crossed his arms. “Chill out, Rossetti.”

The two stood in a staring standoff until Brett spoke up again. “I hear you were in rare form all morning. All week, if we're being honest here.”

“I was unaware my bad moods made headlines.”

“They do, when even Clara comments on it.”

It was Joe's turn to cross his arms. “List a few things that Clara Morrison hasn't made a comment on in the past two years.”

Brett's eyes narrowed, but instead of warning Joe about insubordination the way he had every right to, he smiled. “Guess that would be a short list.”

“Sorry,” Joe said, as he dropped back into the chair. “I've just had some things on my mind.”

Brett watched him too long not to be reading something into the conversation. The last thing Joe needed was to have the lieutenant realize he didn't have his head together on the job. Best friend or not, Brett would be duty-bound to speak up about it to the post commander, Kowalski, which would mean a psych consult that could waylay Joe's attempt to make sergeant.

“This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain redhead who was in here the other day, would it?” Brett asked finally.

“Why do we even have police radios or laptops or cell phones when we have Clara to keep communication flowing?” Blowing out a frustrated sigh, Joe looked over to Brett, who was grinning at him.

“What?”

“I happened to be in the office myself that day.” Brett held his hands wide. “I do occasionally hang around this place. I have to put in a few hours if I'm going to get that the cushy state workers' pension.”

“Oh. Right.”

“So…Lindsay Collins. Age twenty-eight. Wixom.”

The side of Joe's mouth lifted despite his best effort to keep his face blank. “Guess you haven't forgotten how to read a police report.”

“Guess not.” But then Brett's expression became serious. “It's always a tough case when there's a loss of life.”

Joe could see the wheels turning inside Brett's head, the same wheels that served the lieutenant well on an investigation.

“Miss Collins came to you for…?”

“Answers,” Joe said, completing his sentence. “She can't remember what happened in the accident that you read about, and she asked me to fill in some of the blanks.”

“And were you able to…help?” Brett's serious expression broke into a grin as he said the last.

“That's what we're supposed to do,” Joe grumbled, his jaw tight. “Help people.”

“It had to be a hardship to come to the aid of a lovely woman like that, but somebody had to do it, right?”

“Knock it off, Lancaster. I mean…sir.” Joe cleared his throat. “Look, Miss Collins is just a victim in a case I investigated. That's it. I told you I'm not even doing the dating thing right now. With anyone.”
And certainly not with her,
he somehow managed not to add.

“Funny. I didn't mention dating.”

Joe frowned. Brett didn't appear to be buying any
thing he said, but he couldn't blame him. Joe didn't have much credibility regarding women after so many years as a confirmed bachelor. He'd also always been able to take a joke before, so this new sensitivity was telling.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “She just needed help with the accident details, and then she was named guardian of her late sister's child, and she needed some support—”

“The kids always get to guys like us, don't they?”

“What?” Joe was relieved for the interruption to his rambling that could only confirm that Lindsay Collins was part of his problem, but when the meaning of Brett's words dawned on him, he grimaced. “You mean like you and Tricia?”

“Clara said Miss Collins's niece is a cute kid. And a legal guardian is almost like a mom—”

Joe shook his head to interrupt him. “I hate to tell you this, buddy, but most single guys aren't on a hunt for widowed mothers of three.”

“Well, that's good because the most amazing one is off the market,” Brett said with a self-satisfied grin. “And now we're the proud parents of five.”

Which was a whole other crazy matter in Joe's opinion, but because he was the best man from their wedding, and he wanted to preserve that friendship, Joe kept that opinion to himself.

“Remember when you told me you couldn't be dragged to the altar by anything less threatening than a howitzer?” Brett said with a chuckle.

“And don't you hate supposed friends who use your old comments against you?” He shook his head. “Look, I think you and Tricia are great, but I'm telling you that a woman is not
my
problem.” At least not all of it.

Brett shook his index finger at him and squinted as if deep in thought, but then he opened his eyes as if he'd found his answer. “Then it has to be the sergeant test that's bugging you. Don't worry about it. You're ready. You've been ready for a long time. You should have taken this step years ago.”

“You're right about that.”

It didn't surprise him that the lieutenant had hit on a part of his problem. He was only relieved that Brett hadn't figured out the rest. He couldn't afford to let anyone know, especially not Brett, that he'd lost his confidence out on patrol. They couldn't know that he was a liability to the other men and women on the force.

Brett had already guessed that Lindsay was a part of his problem, too, and whether she was the problem or just a reminder of it, he should have been backing away from her instead of becoming friends. A rational man who wanted to keep his job and his family legacy would do what needed to be done, but when had he ever been rational? No matter what he should do, he knew what he
would
do, and that was to show up to meet her as planned.

That truth only frustrated him more. If he didn't figure this out, his superiors would figure
him
out, or worse, something unthinkable could happen while he was out on patrol. A feeling deep in his gut told him it was only a matter of time.

 

“Why isn't Trooper Joe here, Aunt Lindsay?”

Lindsay looked up to find Emma pouring another bucket of water into her castle's moat. The child, who laughed and played in her daisy-covered tankini, didn't appear to have any lasting effects from her nightmare the night before. She didn't even seem to mind that the
water she poured into her moat was only absorbed into the sand.

“I don't know.” Lindsay smeared on another layer of sunscreen as she sat on a blanket just beyond the reach of the tide's tiny ripples. “Maybe something came up.”

At least, that was the only way Lindsay could explain it. Joe had definitely said he was planning to come and hadn't called to cancel, so she didn't know what to think. She pulled her cell phone from where she'd tucked it beneath a beach towel and shielded the screen with her hand. No missed call. No text message.

“But he promised.” Emma's lips were pursed in a pout. “He always keeps his promises.”

“I never said promise.” Lindsay didn't know why she bothered trying to explain. If she'd learned anything in the past few weeks, it was that Emma took anything she said as a promise. If only she'd left Joe's plan to meet them as a surprise, then Emma wouldn't have to think that he'd stood her up. Just the way Lindsay felt.

“You could only be stood up if it was a real date,” she said under her breath and then shook her head.

It had never been a date. Was that what she'd really been looking for when she'd invited him? Of course not. They were friends, new ones, and that was all. She could admit to being lonely and even to being nervous when she'd invited him, but she was still convinced that she'd asked him for a better reason than to improve her nonexistent social life. This was for Emma.

It was a practical decision. Rather than to continue rejecting his offers of help, she'd chosen to welcome them. Joe would be a good resource, and she'd planned to glean as much information as she could about caring for Emma during their day at the beach. Unfortunately, Joe had demonstrated instead how unreliable people
could be. Maybe she deserved his no-show for choosing to rely on someone else instead of being independent the way she should have been.

“I want him to come,” Emma whined.

“I know you do, sweetie.”

“He can take me to the sprinklers park.”

Lindsay looked over at the gated, mini water park, only about a thousand feet away from their spot on the beach. She shouldn't have mentioned they could possibly go there, either. Now whatever they did would be a disappointment instead of an adventure.

“Live and learn,” she blew out on a frustrated sigh.

“Learn what?”

At the sound of Joe's voice, Lindsay felt a tingle creep up her spine. Shifting her arm behind her, she turned to see him crossing the sand, wearing a pair of long red-and-blue swimming trunks, topped by a white Northern Michigan University T-shirt. That her mouth went dry just watching his approach brought her whole “just friends” premise into question. Serious question.

Only, something wasn't right about the way he crossed the grass area with that long stride and sharp whip of his arms. She couldn't help but notice the hard set of his jaw as he stopped at the edge of her blanket, but she didn't miss, either, the way his gaze paused on her and that he swallowed visibly as he looked away.

“You're here,” she managed to choke out.

Joe cleared his throat. “I said I would come today, didn't I?”

“Yes, but—”

Lindsay wasn't sure what she would have said next, but she didn't have the chance as Emma looked up from her castle masterpiece, dropped her shovel and threw herself at a certain state trooper, sandy feet and all.

“Trooper Joe, ya came,” Emma said with delight.

“Of course I did. I always keep my promises.”

The child turned back to her aunt. “See, I told you.”

That Joe didn't even look back at Lindsay as Emma dragged him over to the sand castle made her uncomfortable. What was up with him?

“Look at my castle,” Emma said. “I built it myself.”

“Hmm. I'd better get a good look at this.” Joe crouched down and took his time examining the creation that bore more resemblance to a lopsided igloo on an iceberg than any palace with a drawbridge. “You did all of this stuff? It's amazing.”

Emma nodded, beaming, and described her creation for him in great detail. Lindsay couldn't help smiling as Joe paid close attention to the child, pointing, mostly in error, to the parts she described. When Joe looked back to Lindsay, and his jaw tightened, she decided that despite his efforts to hide it, something wasn't right.

Finally, Joe stepped on the edge of the blanket to protect his feet from the hot sand.

She glanced up and caught him watching her again, his gaze narrowed.