Too Charming (20 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Freeman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Detective

BOOK: Too Charming
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‘This is what I was afraid would happen,’ she shot back, trying to keep her voice down so the rest of the house couldn’t hear. ‘Sally getting the wrong idea. Starting to think of you as a father figure.’

‘And that’s such a terrible prospect
because …?’

She glowered at him. ‘You don’t need me to answer that question.’

For a brief moment she thought he actually looked hurt, which made her wonder if she’d got it all wrong. But how could she when he’d openly admitted that his idea of a long relationship was measured in weeks? She guessed he was feeling slighted because she’d implied he wasn’t a good prospect for a father, when the truth was he’d never be around long enough for either of them to find out.

His eyes flickered and his jaw tightened. Before she
realised what was happening he was pulling her towards him, his mouth crushing hers. It wasn’t a gentle goodnight kiss. It was rough, bruising and bordering on animalistic. It was as if he was staking his claim on her. Given no opportunity to respond, all she could do was absorb the potent heat as it seared every part of her body. Finally, his breathing ragged, he pulled away.

‘What was that for?’ she hissed, annoyed to find her breathing as shallow as his.

‘To make sure you think about me tonight.’

Then he was gone. Jamming on his helmet, throwing a leg over his bike, he vanished into the dark, leaving her standing alone on the driveway, angry and hurting. Angry mainly with herself, because instead of pushing him away, she’d clung to him like a limpet while he’d savaged her mouth. Totally undone by the fierce heat of a kiss she hadn’t needed as a reminder to think about him. She’d have done that anyway.

Which brought her to the part that hurt. Scott Armstrong was a man that no woman could tie down, though many had tried. It hurt like crazy to know that she, too, had ended up falling into that trap. Wanting more from him. And if she hadn’t already guessed that wasn’t in his plans, his furtive attempt to hide Sally’s picture had made the fact glaringly obvious. And left them both where, exactly?

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Scott waited until the middle of the week before he called Megan. It took him that long to work through his muddled emotions. Every time he thought of her, and that was too damn much, he saw the look of horror on her face when she’d looked at the picture Sally had drawn. He must have been good enough to go out with now and again, to
practise tangling up together in the sheets, but nowhere near the mark when it came to anything serious, like being a potential father for her daughter. He was amazed how crushed that made him feel. Two months ago, if someone had told him that one day he’d want to be thought of as a potential father, he’d have sneered. A wife, children. A family. Give him a break. After his own experience of family life, he’d be nuts to want to go down that route.

But then he’d started dating Megan. Spent time with her daughter.

Now he’d fallen for them both, totally, utterly. So much so that he couldn’t imagine life without them. It was incredibly sobering to realise that finally, at the age of thirty-two, he’d fallen in love. And apparently being in love made a person do stupid things. Like picking up the phone to talk to a woman who didn’t have a place for him in her long-term plans. But what was the alternative? She wasn’t going to phone him. That was patently obvious. So if he wanted to see her, he had to call her. And he more than wanted to see her. He needed to see her. His mother wasn’t the only one with an addiction. Hers was alcohol. His was a short, sexy detective.

With that sobering thought in mind, he
dialled Megan’s mobile.

‘Are you free for lunch?’ he asked, pushing aside the pleasantries. The last time they’d seen each other, he’d kissed her in anger. He doubted that any affable greeting on his part was going to cut it with her.

There was a long silence on the other end. Was she smiling or frowning? ‘I might be.’

He took solace from the fact that, even though her voice was cool, she hadn’t said
no
. He’d been prepared for a
no
, so a
might be
was a pleasant surprise. ‘What would make the difference between you being free or not?’

It was a long,
agonising moment before she replied. ‘An apology could work.’

‘I’m not going to
apologise for kissing you,’ he replied quietly. ‘But I will apologise for doing it in anger. And for not phoning you sooner.’

‘Too busy?’

‘No, damn it …’ He paused, reminded himself that getting angry again wasn’t going to help. ‘Forget it. I’m phoning you now. You have a choice. Enjoy a leisurely lunch with a sexy lawyer, or go to the station canteen and eat with a bunch of boring coppers.’

‘Who’s the sexy lawyer?’

He let out a laugh, relieved that she was making a joke.  At least he hoped it was. ‘I thought that was obvious.’

There was a slight pause and he heard a rustle of paperwork. No doubt she was deciding whether she had time in her busy day to squeeze him in. ‘Okay, I’ll meet you but it has to be quick. An hour max.’

Before picking up the phone, he’d have taken any crumb she deigned to offer, so an hour for lunch was a pretty good result. But why did she have to make it sound like she was doing him a favour by seeing him? Why couldn’t she want to see him, too? ‘Fine,’ he replied shortly. ‘I’ll make sure I don’t take up any more than sixty minutes of your precious time.’

Putting down the phone, Megan sat back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. What was she to make of the man? One minute he was striding away from her, the next he was calmly inviting her to lunch. He was tying her up in knots.

Ann tucked her head inside the office. ‘What are you rolling your eyes over?’

‘Men,’ she replied succinctly, then rubbed at her neck and frowned. ‘No, that’s not fair. One man in particular.’

‘Is Scott still giving you the run around?’

Megan took one look at Ann’s face and almost laughed. ‘You’ve got the look of a Rottweiler, prepared to go into battle. I’m almost tempted to say ‘down boy’.’ Ann opened her mouth to speak, but Megan held up her hand. ‘It’s not Scott’s fault. It’s mine. I knew what we had
wasn’t going to be a long-term thing. I didn’t even want it to be. I might have fancied him, but I wasn’t sure I actually liked him all that much.’

‘And now?’ she asked, quietly closing the door.

’Now I’ve fallen in love with him.’ There, the words were out in the open. The bald, naked, terrifying truth. ‘Which is totally ridiculous. I mean, we haven’t even got anything in common. He’s a defence lawyer. I’m a cop. If that isn’t enough reason to put the brakes on now, there’s also the small matter of how we see our relationship unfurling. I want something long and stable. He’s probably already planning his escape exit.’

‘Oh, Meg.’ Ann moved to squeeze her arm. ‘How can you be so certain?’

Glumly Megan put her head in her hands and recounted the tale of Sally’s drawing and Scott’s reaction to it.

’You know his instinct to hide the picture doesn’t automatically mean he was horrified by it. He might just have needed some time to think before showing you. It probably took him by surprise as much as it did you.’

‘Is that your polite way of saying I should know better than to try and second-guess a person’s motives?’

‘Yes. The less than polite version is
talk to the bloody man
.’ Ann gave her a look that was filled with sympathy. ‘You really love him?’

‘Looks like.’

’Then he’s a very lucky guy. And if he doesn’t realise that, I’ll make him realise.’

Torn between laughing and crying, Megan went to hug her friend. If only it were that simple.

 

He’d chosen a small bistro for lunch, just five minutes’
drive from the station. When he picked her up he was stiffly polite towards her; perhaps not the most positive of starts, but maybe he felt as uncertain of their next step as she did. Not that Scott and uncertain were a combination she’d ever imagined. As they sat down on the elegant leather chairs and scanned their menus, Megan’s eyes kept drifting to the man sitting opposite her. It was so hard not to simply reach over and cover his gorgeous face with kisses. She tried to harden her heart. Tried to convince herself that actually he wasn’t the most stunningly attractive man she’d ever met. That his silver grey eyes weren’t the most beautiful eyes she’d ever gazed into. That one look from them didn’t have the capacity to melt her bones.

‘Did you see the
counsellor about your mother?’ she asked when they’d ordered, directing the conversation to a reasonably safe topic.

He nodded. ‘Yes. You were right. It was a very useful experience. He told me that she’s probably suffering from depression as well as alcoholism, which is why it’s proving so hard for her to beat it.’ Finally those light eyes glanced over at her, their look so sincere her heart flipped. ‘It was the first time I’d heard that, so thank you.’

Megan found it hard to find her voice. ‘Have you heard from her?’

‘No.’ His long, tapered fingers started to fiddle with the placemat and Megan could see this was hard for him. ‘The
counsellor told me I shouldn’t go and see her. The fact that she hasn’t let me know where she’s staying is a big hint that she’s ashamed of it. The last thing she needs is for her son to see her living in a hovel.’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving slowly up and down. ‘I have to be patient. He said he was sure, as she’s always come home, that she will do again. If she does, he’s suggested a few questions I can ask. Things I can say to help get her to think about her situation. To understand that there is a way out.’

‘Okay, good.’ Unable to remain detached, she found herself aching for him. This must be so painful.
Especially the waiting.

‘If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have rushed straight over there and probably scared her off for life.’ His eyes searched out hers. ‘Thank you.’

No, she couldn’t hold that gaze. It was too heartfelt. Too painful. Too likely to suck her in even further. ‘Yes, well, I’m not sure I did much but, if it helped at all, I’m glad.’

Their conversation halted as they were served their food. A burger and chips for him.
A pasta for her. ‘So, how’s work?’ she asked finally, knowing that he would prefer not to talk about his mother any more.

‘Good. Busy.’ He squirted sauce on
to his burger and took a bite. ‘In fact you might be able to help me. I’m defending the Kevin Rogers rape case.’

‘Yes, I know him. He’s been brought in for questioning a few times, but we’ve never been able to make anything stick, until now. A thug, if ever I met one.’

‘I agree that he isn’t a particularly nice man. No doubt, as you say, a bit of a thug. It doesn’t make him a rapist, though.’

His words were calm and measured and Megan made a determined effort to bite her tongue. She didn’t want to fight with him.
Certainly not over someone as pathetic as Rogers. ‘How did you think I could help?’

‘Rogers insists that he’s been set up. He claims it’s common knowledge that there’s a cop in the vice squad who’s, how shall I word this? I believe the phrase is bent.’

And just like that, her appetite vanished. Wherever this conversation was heading, she knew it was going to end badly. ‘I see. And you believe everything a man like Rogers tells you, do you?’

‘No, of course not.’ He stopped eating for a moment. ‘Just like you, I listen to what my client tells me, what the witnesses tell me and finally what the hard evidence tells me. Rogers believes that the cop has it in for him, and that he’s behind his arrest. Witnesses tell me that the girls he likes to frequent are fed up with him because he’s crude, at times aggressive and owes them a lot of money. They’ve told their pimp to sort Rogers out. Now I’m wondering if there’s a connection between that, and Rogers’ arrest.’

‘Right. You always get the truth from the mouths of prostitutes and scumbags. What about the hard evidence? What does that say?’ Oh God, why did they always end up fighting?

He sighed. ‘Look, I’m not here to go through the whole damn case with you. We’ve got far better things to talk about. I just mentioned it in case you’d heard any
rumours yourself.’

There was a crashing sound as Megan clattered her knife and fork down on
to her plate. Boy, he was smooth. ‘Do you really expect me to tell tales on a colleague in order to help you stop a rapist going to jail?’ Feeling suddenly sick, she pushed her plate out of the way.

‘For God’s sake, Megan.
Why do you always turn these things on their head?’ The muscle of his jaw flexed. ‘I haven’t asked you to tell tales. I just wanted to know if you knew of any rumours. It’s not the same thing. I’ll arrange for someone to go to the station and ask around anyway. I just thought, as we were talking about it, I’d mention it now.’

Megan was no longer sure of anything. His phone call after days of silence, the way he’d eased his question into the conversation – it all seemed too convenient. ‘Is that really how it happened?’ she asked tightly. ‘Or did you
realise this morning that you needed to find out the name of the cop, and what easier way to do that than to take me out to lunch?’

‘Wow.’ Scott looked at her thunderstruck. ‘You really think that was my only interest in seeing you?’

God, she hoped not, but after the angry way they’d parted, and the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before he called a halt on their relationship, she really didn’t know. ‘Wasn’t it?’

‘You were the one who raised the subject of my work, Megan.’ He took two deep, steadying breaths. ‘I phoned you because I wanted to see you.’

‘Why?’

‘Isn’t that obvious? I missed you. I enjoy seeing you, talking to you.’ His voice lowered. ‘Making love to you.’

‘The last one, I can understand. The others? I can’t see why you’d enjoy that any more. All we do is argue.’ Tears were starting to fill her eyes and Megan wiped at them viciously with a napkin, determined not to let him see her cry. ‘You know what, I can’t do this any more.’

‘Do what?’ he asked quietly.

‘You and me. You were right.’

For once in his life, Scott really didn’t want to be right. ‘About what?’

‘About us going our separate ways.’

‘Hey, now, I didn’t mean that—’ he started to protest. He’d said that because he’d been ashamed about his mother, for God’s sake.

‘You told me we needed to think about things,’ she interrupted. ‘In particular about whether I could cope with what you do for a living.’

So that’s where this was all going. Again. Scott cursed his big mouth. Why the hell had he brought up the Rogers case today? Why hadn’t he just said
fine
, in response to her idle question about how his work was going? ‘What are you telling me, Megan? That you’re not prepared to see past my job when you look at me? That the person I am beneath that doesn’t matter to you?’

‘Stop using your clever words again,’ she shot back. ‘This isn’t about how I view you. It’s about us. How we both look at things from totally opposite sides. I didn’t think it would matter so much, but it seems to. We spend too much of our time together arguing. It isn’t any fun, for either of us. I can’t see how we can move on from here. How we can ever work as a couple.’

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