Chapter Eleven

Sasha checked her front pockets again even though she’d done so twice already. Damn. Where could those keys be? She checked the back pockets of her jeans again. Nothing.

She walked carefully back to her car and searched, hunkering down to check under the seat, but still no keys. She tried to remember where or when she’d last had the key ring. She’d definitely had them in her hand when she set the grocery bags on the table. She’d set the keys aside when her phone rang and then she’d— Damn! She couldn’t remember picking them back up again after answering the phone. She’d locked herself out.

At least she still had her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and studied her contacts. She had Ethan and a couple of her fellow teachers’ numbers saved. After scrolling through the contacts, she called the only person in Rose Creek she wanted to turn to at a time like this. She’d examine that later. When she wasn’t locked out of her new home.

“Sasha, are you settling into the new place? Or are you like Eloise, longing for new adventures?” Remy’s deep voice came over the phone.

She smiled, imagining Evie wanting him to read about Eloise every night. “Uh…yeah, that’s why I called. I seem to have locked myself out. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra key?”

“Sorry, cher, you have the only copy my uncle gave me.”

“I left the window in the back half bath cracked open, but even if I could push it up, I’m not sure I can fit through.”

“No problem. I have a solution. See you in about fifteen minutes.”

She sat on one of the swings suspended from the ceiling rafters of the front porch to wait for Remy and his “solution.” Whatever that was. She used her foot to set the swing in motion. Although she’d bought bright yellow cushions for the swings, she hadn’t spent much time on the porch, preferring the sun-room at the rear of the house.

The black Charger pulled into the driveway, and she rose, stopping the swing before it could bang the back of her knees. Remy parked behind her Subaru, met her gaze, and nodded before turning his head. He seemed to be speaking to someone in the backseat. Sasha stepped off her porch.

The passenger side back door swung open and Evie jumped out. “Miz Honeycutt, Papá says I’m here to rescue you.”

Remy got out and followed his daughter.

She hugged Evie and gave him a puzzled glance over the little girl’s head. “She’s your solution?”

“Only one I know who can fit through that back window.” Remy stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He was still wearing his uniform shirt and duty belt.

“Your daddy is a genius.” Sasha gave Evie another squeeze before releasing her. “And my house may not be the Plaza, but looks like you get to go on your very own Eloise adventure.”

Evie beamed up at her. “I do, don’t I? And the best part is I get to see you and Henry again.”

Sasha chuckled. “I don’t know when I’ve had someone so excited to see me.”

Remy draped an arm around Sasha’s shoulder and tugged her close. “How about two someones?”

Sasha’s breath caught in her throat as he pressed her against his side.

“Mmm…sunflowers today,” he whispered before pulling away.

Evie darted toward the back of the house. “Hurry up, you two. We have to rescue Henry.”

Sasha laughed. “I’m sure Henry is coping just fine. I doubt he even woke up.”

Remy checked to see where Evie was, then gave Sasha a quick kiss on the temple. “What about you, cher? How are you coping?”

She laughed. “It’s been barely an hour. I’m fine…angry with myself for doing this.”

As happy as she was to see father and daughter, she wished it were under different circumstances.

He was grinning as if enjoying himself. “I have to confess I’m glad you called me.”

Despite all her doubts about getting involved with another law enforcement professional, Sasha had to admit seeing him in uniform made something inside her snap to attention. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment or creature of habit…after all, she’d relocated to another small town with all the same inherent problems as the one she’d left.

Evie was dancing on her toes under the partially opened bathroom window. “You’re too slow. I want to start my Eloise adventure.”

“I need to try to remove the window screen without ruining it,” Remy told her.

Sasha shuffled her feet. “If you can’t, I’ll have the screen replaced. This is all my fault.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Remy removed a knife from his duty belt and began methodically working the blade under the aluminum frame.

After some twisting and maneuvering, he was able to pull the screen off and push the window up.

“Okay, ´tite ange, up you go.” He boosted Evie up to the window. “Be careful.”

Evie wiggled through the window.

“Hang on to the windowsill and gently lower yourself to the floor.”

“Okay, Papá, I will. It’s not so far,” she said, followed by a thump.

“You okay?” they asked at the same time.

“Yup. Oh, hey, Henry. Miz Honeycutt, Henry’s okay. He’s here with me.”

Sasha laughed. “That’s good.”

“Okay. Come around and open the front door,” Remy instructed.

“What about Henry? You said he’s not supposed to go outside, and he’s following me.”

“He can come with you. We’ll be careful when we open the door so he doesn’t get out,” Sasha told her.

“Just unlock the door. Don’t open it,” Remy cautioned and glanced at Sasha as if seeking confirmation.

She nodded and followed him around to the side of the house.

“Would you like to stay for supper? Or are you supposed to be working?” Sasha asked as they stepped around to the front of the house. She could lie to herself and say she was being polite and repaying his coming to her rescue. Sure, she could say that, but it would be a lie. Fact was, she’d missed him. She hadn’t seen him since their date, and she’d missed him, missed talking to him, missed hearing him call her cher in that deep sexy voice.

“I think I’ll take you up on that.” He slowed his steps. “I sent Evie’s babysitter home when I went to pick her up. I figured I’d just keep her with me while I did paperwork at the station, but the paperwork will still be there in the morning.”

“Good.” She fiddled with the buttons on her blouse. It was just supper. That’s all. “I’d just come back from the store when I locked myself out, so I can make supper and…and…”

He paused on the steps to the porch and turned. “And?”

And I babble when I get nervous. “I…uh…was just thinking about what to make.”

He nodded, but the way his eyes narrowed said he wasn’t convinced. “You’re not worried about anyone seeing my car here?”

Yes, she was worried, but the school year was winding down and frankly, she was fighting a losing battle with herself. She was tired of trying to suppress her feelings. The fact was she liked Remy, but she wasn’t above giving him a hard time.

“You do know I invited you and Evie to supper, not for the night?” She tilted her head as she studied him. “You understand the difference, right?”

“You mean ‘stay for supper’ isn’t a euphemism?”

She gave him a little push, and he tripped up the porch steps, chuckling as he caught himself before falling.

“Papá? Are you and Miz Honeycutt here yet?” Evie called through the door.

“We are, ´tite ange. Where’s the cat?” Remy winked at Sasha.

“I unlocked the door and picked him up, but he’s getting heavy.”

He opened the door and blocked the doorway. Sasha turned around at the sound of a car’s tires crunching on the gravel in the driveway. An SUV with the sheriff’s department markings stopped behind Remy’s car.

“What are they doing here?” Sasha asked.

Remy turned around and frowned at the two deputies coming up the brick walk. He turned to Evie. “Go back in the house with the cat, but don’t lock the door. We’ll be right in.”

Evie nodded and Sasha added, “You can give him a treat if you’d like. Check the grocery bag on the kitchen table.”

“Okay. C’mon, Henry. Treats.” Evie set the cat down.

“Not too many. Just a couple,” Sasha cautioned as the little girl went back toward the kitchen with the cat on her heels, fluffy tail straight up in the air.

Remy stepped off the porch and approached the two deputies. “What’s up?”

“Dispatch said we could find you here,” said a sandy-haired deputy, the younger of the two.

A second one, with gray hair and a paunch, glanced at Sasha and cleared his throat. “We…uh, we’ve got a situation over on Anderson Pike.”

Remy clicked his tongue. “Sasha, I hate to ask, but can Evie stay with you for an hour or so?”

“Sure.” Sasha’s glance bounced among the three men who seemed to be communicating without speaking. “Is everything okay?”

“Just something I need to take care of,” Remy said.

She ground her back teeth. It’s police business. Nothing for you to be concerned about. How many times had she heard that before?

“I’ll ride over with you guys.” Remy exchanged a look with his deputies. He must’ve passed on some sort of unspoken signal, because they both retreated back to the SUV. “Just routine. Shouldn’t take long. I’ll call you and give you a better idea of how long I’ll be. Then I’ll come back and take both of you out to supper to make up for this.”

Just routine. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Nothing was ever just routine. Mundane could turn deadly.

“That isn’t necessary. She can stay as long as you need. I wasn’t planning anything.” Sasha truly didn’t mind watching Evie or helping Remy, but she suddenly felt as though she was getting in too deep. Did she want to go down that road again? Open herself to devastating heartbreak when that “just routine” turned deadly?

“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver,” he said and leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.

The kiss wasn’t passionate or lingering…no, this was the kind of kiss a spouse might give when leaving for work. And she was pretty sure those two gawking deputies didn’t miss the gesture or its implication. Sasha’s hands balled tight as she watched him strut down the brick sidewalk and join his deputies. Remy had kissed her as if he was sending a clear signal. That kiss was the equivalent of a predatory animal marking his territory.

He was halfway down the brick sidewalk when he turned back and gave her a panty-melting tilt of his lips. “Be back to take you two to supper.”

Of course his deputies heard his parting shot. That, along with the kiss, would tell them all they needed to know about their relationship. She should hate this. She really should. So why was her heart flip-flopping around in her chest?

…

Remy flexed his shoulder and worked it around before rapping lightly on Sasha’s front door. Would she be pissed at him for breaking his promise and ruining her evening? He leaned tiredly against the doorframe and rubbed his face. She’d been married to a policeman, so she knew the drill. Yeah, and that was the problem. Remember her comment about finding a nice doctor? Remember Randi’s parting shot about cops and lousy marriages?

And yet, Sasha and Ethan hadn’t tried to go on another— He snapped to attention and straightened at the sound of the door being unlocked.

“Hey,” he said when she opened the door. He tried to read her mood and failed. He could read a suspect, so why not the women in his life? He should’ve seen the end of his marriage coming from a mile away, considering the venom his ex had thrown at him before leaving him and not taking Evie with her.

“Hey yourself.” She stepped aside and motioned him in. “You look beat. C’mon in.”

Nodding, he stepped over the threshold, enjoying the soothing atmosphere of her home. He’d forgotten how nice it was to have a soft place to land after a rough day. Unlike some of his fellow officers, he’d gone home instead of decompressing by sitting on a barstool. And his marriage still ended up in the toilet. Go figure.

Sasha shut the door. “Evie and Henry are asleep on the couch.”

He took a couple steps and glanced into her living room. Sure enough, his daughter was covered with a quilt, the cat snuggled next to her.

“I appreciate letting Evie stay with you,” he whispered.

She shrugged and spoke in the same low tones. “We had fun watching Netflix movies and ended up ordering pizza for supper. I have some leftovers. Are you hungry?”

“I hate to put you out.” He was still struggling to figure out her mood. Maybe if he wasn’t so dog-tired.

Her gaze scrutinized him. “You didn’t answer my question. Have you eaten?”

“I had some coffee at the station.” He decided to take his cues from her.

“I’ll reheat the leftover pizza. It won’t take long.” She smiled and motioned him to follow.

Basking in the glow of that smile, comfortable warmth spread over his chest. He followed her into the kitchen, thinking how nice it was coming home to someone willing to feed him instead of reminding him of his promise to take them out. “Sorry I messed up our plans, but I had to process the guy we brought in. Took a lot longer than I expected.”

“It’s okay. Believe me, I understand about these things.” Her tone gave nothing away, but Remy didn’t like the look in her eyes when she said that. He knew she had some lingering stuff from her late husband. Being a cop’s wife wasn’t easy. Randi had made that plain enough. He rubbed his hand over his face. Maybe simple, no-strings-attached relationships were what he needed. But that wouldn’t help Evie. His daughter would be better off with a steady woman in her life—she had been hurt enough by his poor choices. Of course, if he hadn’t married Randi, Evie wouldn’t exist, so that was a useless circular argument.

He sat at the kitchen table while Sasha got out a frying pan and some foil. She set the pan on the stove and fiddled with the burner knob.

“Is something wrong with the microwave?” He’d expected her to throw a slice on a plate and pop it into the microwave. That’s what he would have done.

“No, it works fine.” She took the leftover pizza slices out of the refrigerator, placed two in the pan, and covered the top with the foil. “Doing it this way will keep the crust from getting soggy.”

“Is that a New York trick?”

She gave him a saucy shake of her head. “It’s a Sasha Honeycutt trick.”

Screw caution. He jumped up from the chair and went to her, unable to bear the distance between them. “Hmm, that sounds interesting. Tell me more about these tricks of yours.”

She sidestepped and pointed a spatula at him, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. “What do you think this is…show and tell?”

“I hope so because I excelled at that in school.” He put his arms around her from behind.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t move out of his embrace. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I should warn you, Miss Honeycutt, unlike some of your students, I happen to know what that word means.” He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the moment and her scent.

“I see Evie told you about that.” She fiddled with the foil covering on the pizza slices but still didn’t move away.

“As I said, you’ve been the number one topic in our house.” He lowered his head to whisper. “Had I known she was talking about my kissing bandit, I would’ve been over to the school on day one.”

“And been disappointed by how teachery I was?”

“Bite your tongue.” He squeezed his hands over her hips. “Or better yet, let me.”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re into—”

“Not really, but I confess I’ve never had so many hot-for-teacher fantasies in my life. Now you’re giving me ideas about this spatula.”

She reached across the stove and switched off the burner. “I think this is hot enough.”

“I can go hotter if you’d like.” He chuckled, loving that she was into the teasing.

“I meant the pizza.” She jabbed him with her elbow.

“Oomph. Sure you did, cher, sure you did.” He released her, moving back to his seat. The hassles of the day melted away.

After putting the pizza onto the plate, she turned and then sucked in a breath with a hiss.

What the…? The slices bounced on the plate, and he jumped up to rescue his supper.

After setting his supper on the table, he glanced at his arm, the one she was staring at with a stricken expression. The gauze dressing peeked out from under his uniform sleeve. Bon Dieu, he would have preferred having this discussion on a full stomach. But considering the pinched look of her mouth, he wasn’t eating his pizza in peace. When he’d changed out of his bloody shirt for a fresh one, he should have chosen long sleeves.

“What happened?” she asked in a measured tone, her voice stripped of emotion.

“It’s nothing.” He pushed up his sleeve to prove his point.

“It’s not nothing.” She shook her head vehemently. “That looks as though it was something. Enough to warrant a bandage that looks professionally applied.”

“Professionally applied?” Crap! Leave it to her to even notice it. He glanced at the gauze. Considering the possibilities if the guy had had a gun instead of a kitchen knife, Remy hadn’t given the wound much thought. “I had to get a couple of stitches.”

He rubbed his deltoid and winced. Don’t forget the damn tetanus shot. That was bothering him more than the knife wound. He used his foot to pull out a chair from the table.

“Are you trying to tell me you cut yourself?”

“Something like that.” He glanced at the bandage and tried unsuccessfully to coax her into a chair, all the while avoiding direct eye contact with her.

Sasha made a tsking sound. “Why do I get the feeling it was anything but?”

He heaved a sigh, hating that her making a big deal out of it had stripped away the warm, relaxed feeling of moments ago. He’d had a hellish day and didn’t want to drag it all out again now. He wanted to eat his warmed-up pizza, but it didn’t look like he was going to be able to avoid explaining. “It’s a knife wound.”

She brought her hand to her mouth. “What? Oh my God, what happened and why didn’t you say something when you first got here? Did this have anything to do with where you went earlier today? When your deputies showed up?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite, burning his tongue. This wasn’t his night for catching breaks.

She hugged herself. “I take it you knew exactly what was happening? All they did was mention a location, but you seemed to know what they were talking about.”

He set the slice down and used chewing his food to gather his thoughts. “Yeah, you get to know certain people and situations, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

“We’re not talking about me right now. I want to know why you didn’t tell me you’d been hurt on the job.”

“Because I knew you’d make a big deal of it when it’s nothing.” He wiped his hands on a napkin.

“Who stabbed you?”

He rubbed his hands along her upper arms and sighed. You should’ve handled this entire situation better. Have you learned nothing? “Sasha, I wasn’t stabbed. Not like you mean, anyway.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know what I mean?”

He squeezed her arms and tried to guide her to a chair. “Because I can see it in your face, hear it in your voice. Sit down and I’ll tell you what happened.”

“First it’s nothing and now it’s a ‘let’s sit down before I tell you’ thing?” Her tone was accusatory, but she sank onto the chair.

He sat across from her, his knees touching hers. “Please, cher, let me explain, and you’ll see it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

She nodded but brought a hand up to cover her mouth. He blew his breath out. So this was how it was gonna be. She looked like a rabbit ready to bolt at any moment.

“I responded to a domestic disturbance and— Sasha?” He captured her hands in his. “Bon Dieu, your hands are like ice.”

How could I have been so stupid? “Does this have to do with your husband?”

“That’s how…” She shivered, and her teeth began to chatter.

He swore and pulled her onto his lap. He held her tight, feeling the tremors running through her. Damn. He’d never really thought much about what being involved with a widow might mean or what fears Sasha might carry because of it. He’d known she was wary, but now he realized why.

He rubbed her hands to warm them and gradually worked his way up her arms. “Do you want some silverware or folders to arrange?”

She huffed out a little laugh and shook her head against his chest. “I’m okay. Just needed a minute to collect myself. I honestly didn’t mean to fall apart. It’s been over five years since his death, but seeing that wound and when you said ‘domestic disturbance,’ it…it brought a lot of it back. I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

“It’s okay. Look.” He pulled the bandaging off. “See? It honestly was just a flesh wound. And I apologize for not telling you. The guy was drunk and waving a kitchen knife around. Granted, I should have been more careful, but it wasn’t a life-threatening situation. Just a little slowing of my reflexes.”

She exhaled. “This time, but what if he’d had a gun?”

“Cher.” He pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin. She smelled like the wildflowers from their auction date. “If he’d had a gun, I would’ve handled everything differently. I’m trained for these situations, and I always wear my Kevlar. I know what I’m doing. But I do apologize. I should have told you. I didn’t do it on purpose. The wound was just a detail of my day.”

“Stitches are more than a detail. When you called and said you were going to be late, you never mentioned a trip to the emergency room.”

He winced at her accusatory tone, because she was correct. The thought had crossed his mind, but he hadn’t wanted to deal with the fallout—at least not over the phone. “You’re right. I should have said something at the time, but I have to confess I was a bit…uh…grumpy for having to go to the ER at all. I didn’t want to take out my frustration on you. I’m sorry.”

That was partly the truth. Guilt stabbed at him. The other reason he hadn’t wanted to say anything was because of exactly what happened. Of course, telling her rather than letting her find out by seeing the wound wasn’t the best way to handle things, either. His plan to keep things easy and uncomplicated was starting to unravel. It was that damn picnic. How could he have made such a miscalculation?

“It might have been just a detail to you, but details like that matter.”

He smoothed the hair back from her face. “How so?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. You’re right, I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Eat your pizza before it gets cold again.”

She pulled out of his embrace and went to the sink and busied herself with cleaning the fry pan and spatula. He ate his pizza slices, contemplating her stiff back. Was she still angry with him or embarrassed by breaking down like that in front of him? Her tears made him ache worse than the knife wound. Sasha’s tears were nothing like the ones his ex used to try to manipulate him.

Randi had decided she hated being married to a cop, but she’d rarely expressed worry over his personal safety. She had nagged him about getting called out to murder scenes on holidays or when she wanted to do something else. She’d complained if he came home grumpy but hassle him if he went for a drink with the guys to decompress after a grueling shift.

Even if it meant Evie getting to have a mother in her life, did he want to walk through that minefield again?

Sighing, he watched Sasha putter around the kitchen. His emotions were more involved than he’d prefer, but she was worth it. And it wasn’t as if he’d lost control completely. Not too late to get everything back on track.