The light in the alley slanted toward the house across the street where the kids lived with their mother. They needed it more than she did, Georgia figured. But enough light seeped through her bedroom shade, producing a filmy glow that highlighted Jimmy’s face as he slept. One of his arms was stretched over his head. The other lay by his side. A peaceful expression, even the hint of a smile, was on his lips.
She gazed at him, a jumble of emotions roiling her brain. Who was this man who’d made such sweet love to her? Who explored her body but allowed her to explore his, too? Who let her think she was the aggressor but then took control exactly when she wanted? He’d brought her to a place she thought was long dead. Where had he learned to do that? Should she trust it?
He was a cop, but there was something different about him. Police work breeds a darkness in a cop’s soul, a darkness so vast that even the most perfect day is marred by its shadow. Some cops come to terms with it; others bury it in a bottle or drugs. Still others, like Matt, her former lover, never did settle their account. Managing requires a delicate balance. Becoming a PI was no guarantee of basking in the light, either. The only difference was that now she could choose how much to take on.
But Jimmy didn’t seem to have those demons. Granted, she didn’t know him well, but she had the sense that he had made peace with the dark side. Either he’d never faced evil, which, despite the fact that Lake Geneva was a lazy resort town where DUIs and drug busts were more the norm than murder, she doubted; or he had not allowed it to consume him. Which would make him a special cop. And an even finer man.
As if sensing she was awake, he turned onto his side and smiled, sleep dusting his eyes. She smiled back and lightly traced a patch of light that fell across his chest. Then he gathered her in his arms, and she stopped thinking.