Scott
What was she doing here?
Kim Xavier was many things: one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen, not to mention a smart-ass. And, as he unfortunately learned last November, she was also a liar and a thief.
But the kind of daughter who’d spend the night at her parents’ just because? That didn’t fit.
Scott reached his door and opened it, then shut and locked it behind him like there was a zombie apocalypse outside. But he couldn’t resist peeking through the curtains of the front door.
The only thing worse than having Kim Xavier roaming his neighborhood was having Kim Xavier roaming his neighborhood in those pants. They were those stretchy cotton kind, the kind that hugged a perfect ass like Kim’s like they were specifically designed for her.
She bent down to clean up another mess from her mother’s dog, and a wave of heat washed over him.
Yoga pants? Yoga pants. That’s what they were called.
He mopped his forehead with his shirt, because even though he’d stopped jogging minutes ago, he’d broken out into a sweat again.
Whatever. She shouldn’t be wearing them. She should be arrested for wearing them.
A voice inside his head suggested he be the one to put the cuffs on her for that particular violation.
But no. He was through with women like her.
As if reminding him of the reason why, a car pulled up his driveway. Bette with Lily, who’d let her granddaughter stay the night since Scott had ended up working so late. Lily slammed the car door shut and skipped to the sidewalk, her pale blond hair bouncing with each step. Bette trailed behind much slower, limping for some reason.
He tugged on his shirt, unlocked the door, and opened it. “What happened?” he called to Bette as Lily crashed into his legs, smelling of sugar and speaking a mile a minute.
“Grandma let me eat two donuts. One of them was chocolate!”
He raised an eyebrow at Bette. “Really?”
The older woman shrugged. She stood tall like her daughter—if memory of Lily’s mother was accurate; he hadn’t seen her in some time—but Bette had a sagging bosom and auburn hair that was cut short and spiky, hinting at her irreverent personality. She was also definitely favoring her left leg. “She’s a growing girl. Plus, her father’s a cop.”
“Those rumors aren’t true,” he said. “I never eat donuts. What’s wrong with your leg?”
Bette stopped before she reached the steps, her breath a little heavy. “Just pulled it the other day carrying a load of groceries up those g-d steps to the apartment. Carried too much at once, should’ve zigged instead of zagged.” She waved a hand dismissively as she took a deep breath. “No big deal. Needs some time is all.”
“Okay,” Scott said, but he still stepped down to offer Bette an arm to navigate the steps.
“Grandma said because her leg hurt, she got to eat two g-d donuts too,” Lily sang.
Scott raised his eyebrow at her again as they stepped inside and the girl ran towards her room, riding out her donut high.
“What?” Bette asked, mock-innocently. “She doesn’t know what ‘g-d’ means. For all she knows, it could stand for ‘Golden Delicious.’”
“Huh. Right.” Scott guessed Lily probably knew what ‘g-d’ meant, or would soon, and he was bracing himself for future parent-teacher conferences discussing his daughter’s rampant potty mouth. He pondered how to explain the origins of Lily’s newfound language without pointing the finger at a sixty-year-old woman who was his would-have-been mother-in-law.
Despite her colorful vocabulary, Bette was great with Lily. He appreciated her all the more since he no longer had any family left. Scott had been a menopause baby, and his parents had both died six years ago, when he was only in his mid-twenties. They’d tried having kids for years, and when he’d been born, they’d been as loving parents as he could’ve asked for. He had no siblings, so Lily had no aunts nor uncles nor cousins. And since her mother had split right after she was born—if he was honest, even before then, mentally—she had no other family but him.
Bette had stepped up, and she convinced him to move to Connecticut to be near her. Unlike her daughter, she loved kids, and though her child-rearing methods bordered on unconventional, Lily was over the moon for her. So he’d taken some of the inheritance his parents left to buy a house in a neighborhood way above his pay grade, to give Lily the opportunities and upbringing she deserved.
Bette trudged towards the kitchen. “I need more coffee. Maybe another g-d donut too. Too bad you don’t have any.” She waved a hand under her nose. “And you could stand to take a shower.”
Scott lifted his shirt to sniff when a knock came at the door.
When he peeked through the glass, he saw someone he didn’t expect.
Diane Xavier. Kim’s mother.
Scott cleared his throat and opened the door.
“Uh, good morning, Mrs. Xavier.” He nodded. “Something I can help you with?”
“Yes. It won’t take long.” Diane gestured towards his living room. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Uh, sure.” Scott stepped aside as she passed by him. “Have a seat.” Conscious of his smell, he added, “I just got back from a jog and was about to take a shower…”
Diane turned to face him without sitting down. Outwardly, she resembled her older daughter, Laurel, much more than Kim. A prosecutor for twenty years, she held her body erect, wore her dark hair straight and smooth and her face perfectly made up. The handful of times they’d spoken, however, Scott had seen a gleam of something in her eyes that reminded him of Kim’s stubbornness.
That’s what he saw now, a steely spark in her blue irises, and his mind briefly drifted back to yoga pants.
“I’m here to ask for your help,” Diane said without preamble, breaking him out of his reverie.
“Okay.”
“Kimberly came to us last night. She had a break-in at her apartment.”
Scott’s jaw dropped. “Oh?” So that’s why she was there this morning.
“She was working at the coffee shop, and she came home and found her things everywhere.”
Scott swallowed. “Is she—is she okay?” She’d certainly seemed okay this morning, but his cop instincts told him Kim also covered herself in a candy shell against the world: pretty and hard.
“Yes. She didn’t encounter the intruder.” Diane’s voice was the one she’d probably used to win countless court cases. Clear, calm, presenting the facts. “She doesn’t know who did it, and this person didn’t seem to take anything, which makes it all the more perplexing.”
“Maybe somebody looking for drugs, any cash lying around.” Scott rubbed his jawline, shifting into cop mode. “She file a report?”
“No.” Diane shook her head once. “She didn’t want to.”
“She should file a report.”
“She won’t.” Diane swallowed. “And she won’t listen to me. We need your help.”
“Why isn’t she here asking me herself?” Scott asked, though he knew the answer. The handful of times he’d seen Kim last fall, before he knew her record, they’d flirted back and forth. By the second time he’d seen her—stumbling upon her at the mall like it was meant to be, her bright red mouth smiling at him, that crimped brown hair he wanted to run his fingers through—he’d been near crazy to get her number.
It had been a boon when he’d discovered her at the neighborly Xavier Thanksgiving meal Diane had invited him to, not realizing the woman who’d been guest-starring in his every fantasy was their daughter. But then, the very next day on Black Friday—which, last year, had been pretty black indeed—he realized her flirting had been nothing more than a distraction to keep him from discovering her sister was in cahoots with a notorious graffiti artist working in their area.
Diane stared at him. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
No, Kim Xavier didn’t want his help. She had a police file as thick as one of Bette’s paperback westerns, and Kim knew he knew it. She wasn’t a fan of cops.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked. Kim had been found guilty of theft numerous times, and she probably hung with a bad crowd. He wasn’t surprised someone had broken into her place.
“Come to our home this morning. Go with her to the apartment, see if you can discover any clues to find out who did this and apprehend them.”
Scott scrunched up his lips, trying to summon a response.
Diane took a step towards him. Her blue eyes shone a bit glassy and her self-possession slipped a moment, her voice growing slightly tremulous around the edges. “She’s scared, Scott. She might not show it to the world, but she is. They left a note.”
“A note?”
“Yes.” Diane took a deep breath. “Calling her a—a bitch, and saying to ‘give it up,’ whatever it is.”
“Hmm.” Scott’s jaw tightened. As untrustworthy as Kim was, something in him hardened at the idea of someone threatening her. A note like that? It was a threat.
“I’ll come over,” he said.
She inhaled and took a step back, her composure sliding back into place. “She’s here this morning, but she’ll be working later. She’d just gotten into the shower when I slipped out. If you could come soon…”
He cast a glance behind him, wondering if Bette was listening from the kitchen. “I need to grab a shower too and make sure Lily’s grandmother can take her to preschool.”
“Yes. Of course. That’s completely understandable. Just come by when you’re available.” Diane moved to exit, but turned back to him before she reached the front door. “Thank you,” she said, the tremor back in her voice.
His front door closed again.
“Shit.”
Scott wanted to see Kim Xavier again about as much as he wanted to experience a nuclear holocaust or a Sex in the City marathon. Because despite her long-ass police record, her lies, and her smart mouth, this morning’s run-in had shown him he wasn’t over her.
Maybe if he figured out who’d broken into her place and put the guy behind bars, she’d return back to her apartment. Which would be the best thing for everybody involved. Because if history had proven anything to him, it was that falling for women like Kim only spelled disaster for him.