Chapter Fourteen

Standing on Sasha’s porch at the crack of dawn, Remy was torn between hoping to get her out of bed—he imagined she’d be all sleep tousled—and wanting to get on the road so he could drop off the evidence he’d collected. Once that was accomplished he’d be able to devote his day to Sasha. He adjusted the coffee cups in his hands so he could press her doorbell.

Score one for him: if Sasha’s facial expressions were anything to go on, she’d given the decision careful consideration. Having her with him would make the whole trip worthwhile. And he’d have some alone time with her without her fretting about people in town seeing them together.

He reached up to ring again when the door opened.

“Hey,” she said and smiled when she spotted the cups in his hand. “Ooh, coffee. I didn’t have a chance to make any. I figured I could get some along the way, but this is even better, especially if you’re one of those guys who doesn’t like to stop along the way.”

“I thought you might like something to wake you up, but you’re mighty chipper without caffeine.”

“Sorry. I’m a morning talker. What are you?”

“A morning grunter?”

She laughed. “That’s okay. I’ll take up the slack.”

He leaned over to give her a quick kiss before handing her the coffee. “And it’s barely a four-hour drive.”

“In other words, that’s a yes to whether or not you’re a stops-along-the-way type of guy.”

“I do have to be aware of the chain of custody thing with this package, so emergency stops only.”

“Got it,” she said but beamed that smile at him.

Even at the crack of dawn she looked and smelled good. He imagined waking up to her each morning. If she was a morning person, maybe she’d enjoy other morning activities, too.

“What lotion do you have on today?” he asked as they pulled out of her driveway.

She laughed. “I knew you were going to ask, so I checked the bottle. Today it’s mandarin and mint. Can you smell it from over there?”

“No. I caught a whiff when I kissed you.”

Because of the early hour, the traffic was light and he was able to enjoy her company. They talked about movies and television shows they both enjoyed and found they both had a fondness for quirky dark comedies. They even made a game out of throwing out quotes and trying to stump the other. It seemed Miss Honeycutt had a competitive streak. He grinned when he finally stumped her, but she was graceful in defeat and leaned across the console to give him a peck on the cheek. The price for defeat—chosen by him. Too bad he had to concentrate on driving.

She asked questions about Texas as she read the names on the highway exit signs, and he answered as many as he could.

“Were you born in Texas?”

Remy’s fingers gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t like thinking about those days, even less talking about them. It wasn’t like talking would change anything, so why bother?

He glanced at Sasha with her hands folded in her lap and sighed. “No, I was born in Houma, Louisiana and lived there until I was ten when my mother married Tyler Dent and we moved to his home in Rose Creek.” His whole life had changed twice in the span of two years. But back then he’d been a kid and just about everything was out of his control. Of course being an adult didn’t guarantee control, either. His divorce was proof of that. After that protracted ordeal was over, he’d vowed to never be in that sort of situation again.

She half turned in the seat to look at him. “What happened to your biological dad?”

“He died of cancer when I was eight.” He steeled himself for the inevitable platitudes. Sympathy made his teeth ache. He saw it as a reminder of not being able to control a situation.

“Oh no. I’m so sorry.” She touched his arm.

Okay. So maybe that wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. The warmth from her hand seeped into his pores. “Thanks. It was my mom and me until I was ten. She married Tyler and soon Ethan and then Charlotte came along.”

“I had promised my dad to look after Mom and keep her happy,” he blurted out. Couyon. Dumbass. Why admit such a thing?

“What? No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know your dad and meaning no disrespect, but that’s a pretty big burden to put on an eight-year-old.”

He shrugged, but he felt anything but casual. “As I look back, yeah, but at the time I thought I’d failed when she remarried.”

“Why would you think such a thing?”

And here he thought he’d let go of all that, but talking about it demonstrated he hadn’t. No, he’d stuffed it further down with all the rest of the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. “Because I wasn’t enough to keep her happy.”

“You were her son. None of that should have fallen to you. She may have wanted to be part of a couple again…lots of women do.” She brushed her fingertips on her thighs.

“What about you, Sasha? Do you want to be part of a couple again?”

She looked straight ahead. “If it happened, I would welcome it, but…”

“But what?”

“I wouldn’t blindly jump into something just to be part of a couple.” She picked at the fabric of her pants. “If I get married again, I want to be sure my husband wants the same things as I do.”

“He didn’t?” His gut burned at the thought that her husband had hurt her in some way.

“I had told him from the start that I wanted kids, and he said he did too when the time was right. We were both young, so I agreed to wait, but every time we met one objective, he’d want to wait for something else. First it was getting off the graveyard shift, and that made sense…buying our own home, again not unreasonable. Then it was making sergeant.”

Remy swallowed. Her tone had changed. “Did he?”

“Just before he was killed.”

“I’m sorry.” Bon Dieu, could he sound any more useless? He reached over, intending to offer what little comfort he could.

She held up her hand. “No.”

“What?”

“His partner let it slip that Jimmy wasn’t sold on the idea of kids.” She shook her head. “His work partner knew him better than his life partner. It felt as if he was this whole other person when he was on the job. A person who he didn’t share with me. I never got to see that side of him.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to admit to you how he felt about having a family?” Why was he sticking up for the guy who’d hurt Sasha? And there was no doubt she’d been hurt. It was in her voice, her body language.

“He could have, but he should have talked to me about it. I’m not unreasonable. I don’t understand what changed his mind.”

“In his defense, I have to warn you that this job can change a person…make you cynical or use gallows humor to cope. Seeing and knowing what one human being can do to another wears on you. You have to be able to shut it off, or it can destroy you.” There he was, defending the guy again.

She huffed out a breath. “Surely things aren’t that bad in Rose Creek.”

“No, but I saw some pretty terrible things while working homicide in the City…New Orleans.”

“Is that why you decided to leave?”

No, he’d managed to shut off certain parts of himself, but that might not be the best thing to say right now. “I left because I didn’t want to uproot Ethan and Charlotte when our parents died. I didn’t want them to lose their home and friends, too.”

“That was very unselfish of you.”

He shrugged, trying to push aside the feelings assaulting him, giving her his pat answer. “You do what you have to for family.”

“What…” She paused and cleared her throat. “What about Evie’s mother?”

That’s where he drew the line under this conversation. “She preferred New Orleans.”

“Oh.”

Was she thinking that he’d taken Evie away from her mother when he’d left New Orleans? He’d heard the rumors before and hadn’t bothered to correct anyone, but he wanted Sasha to know the truth. Even if it painted him in a bad light, even if it jeopardized whatever this was that they were stumbling into. He wanted her to know the truth, so he’d go beyond the line he’d thought he’d drawn.

“She said she was sick of being married to a cop. She said a decorated New Orleans homicide detective was at least tolerable, but a cop in a hick town in Texas wasn’t what she’d signed up for. Maybe on some level I suspected things weren’t what they should be, but I didn’t deal with it. I admit that.”

“What-what about Evie? I notice she doesn’t talk about her.”

He heaved a sigh. “The pregnancy came as a surprise to us both, but I adjusted and welcomed it, and she didn’t. How could have I been so wrong about a person?”

“Don’t put all the blame on yourself. Sounds like you evolved in different directions.”

“Because of my mistakes, my daughter’s mother isn’t in her life.” And that was something he would have to live with even if he succeeded in finding a stepmother for Evie.

“But you’ve done a wonderful job with Evie. She’s a bright, loving, and very well-adjusted child.”

“I can’t help thinking if I’d stayed in New Orleans, Evie might have had a relationship with her mother.” He winced. Had he shirked one responsibility by accepting another? Voicing those inner doubts wasn’t easy.

“Sounds like she was selfish if she couldn’t see what you did was the right thing.”

“Charlotte was fourteen and Ethan barely sixteen when our parents were killed one night by a drunk driver who ran a red light.” He managed to keep his voice modulated despite the emotions pressing against his throat. Thinking about that desperate time was like poking a sore tooth. He’d been so overwhelmed by the loss of his mother and stepfather and the dissolution of his marriage that he’d been strung as tight as a fiddle string. The only way to cope was to take control of the situation and forge ahead.

A light touch on his arm brought him out of his thoughts. Sasha had covered his forearm with her hand again.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through,” she said. “I don’t know your wife, but I think you made the right decision.”

“I couldn’t uproot them when they’d lost so much.”

“That makes sense and was very selfless of you.”

She frowned. “I stayed in our home for five years playing the widow until I felt as though I’d suffocate there and never be seen as anything but Jimmy’s widow. The job in Rose Creek, the move to Texas, was my way out.”

“No one is judging you, cher.”

…

“I do believe this is Jim Cantore weather.” Sasha leaned forward in the seat and squinted to see, but the pounding rain coupled with the darkness made it impossible. Glad I’m not trying to drive in this. Guilt stabbed her because Remy had been driving in it for over an hour.

“I think you’re right.” He blew his breath out noisily. “Can you check your phone again?”

She brought up the weather app and swiped through it. “Looks like these storms are training all along the route back home. I don’t think we can drive fast enough to get out of them safely. What do you want to do?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I can keep going in this. I think it’s time to stop.”

A huge bolt of lightning split the sky in front of them, and she jumped in her seat. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

“The next exit is our best option,” Remy said. “I’ve gotten off there for gas and, if I remember correctly, there’s a motel.”

“You must be exhausted having to drive in this.”

“Getting that way,” he murmured as he maneuvered the car off the highway onto a flooded roadway.

Unlike their drive over when they’d chatted about anything and everything, she’d been silent, letting him concentrate on not getting them killed in a wreck.

Several minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a small mom and pop type motel. He stopped as close as possible to the entrance of the office. “Sign says there’s a vacancy. Hope it’s halfway decent.”

“At this point, I’d be fine with a no-tell motel.”

He laughed. “And what do you know about them?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She folded her hands in her lap.

“Uh-huh.” He started to open the door, lighting the interior of the vehicle. “I’ll go in and get us a room and you can explain all about no-tells to me.”

“I’m glad your sense of humor is still intact after all this.” But she had to admit she was feeling giddy, probably from relief that they were no longer trying to drive in the weather.

“That’s not all that’s intact, cher.” He gave her a teasing glance.

She made a shooing motion. “Go get a room before they’re all gone.”

Laughing, he climbed out, slammed the door, and sprinted the short distance to the office. He glanced back at her, that sexy grin still in place as he pulled open the door and disappeared inside.

She wrung her hands as she waited. A motel room…for the night, with the sexiest man she’d ever known. But there was more to it. She admired Remy, the things he’d done, the sacrifices he’d made for family. Heck, the man volunteered to clean the rain gutters of an elderly woman’s home. Made sure a boy got to keep his stray cat. He was the whole package. Smart, sexy, and compassionate. But she could also be opening herself up to more heartbreak. She knew what could happen, how tenuous life was, especially for people who put themselves on the line every day to protect others.

She rubbed her hands together. You’re a grown woman, Sasha. A woman with desires and needs like everyone else. Both of them were single. No one was suggesting getting their hearts involved. Was she capable of something purely physical?

She jumped when the driver’s side door opened.

“Here.” He tossed a small plastic bag onto her lap and slipped behind the wheel.

“What’s this?”

“I told the woman at the front desk our situation, and she handed it to me.”

“Well, that was nice of her.” Sasha opened the bag and peered in. “There’s some sample-size toothpaste, deodorant, and a couple toothbrushes.”

“I have good news and even better…uh, I mean bad news.” He held up a red plastic key tag with attached key. “And they’re both the same thing. There’s only one room left.”

Panic swelled up, threatening to swallow her. Was she really doing this? This was something that couldn’t be undone.

“Look, Sasha, if you—”

“So you’re volunteering to sleep in the car tonight,” she teased, wanting to lighten the moment and reassure him. And herself.

In answer to her question, he shook his head like a dog and water droplets flew everywhere.

“Hey!” She wiped the droplets off her sleeve but couldn’t contain her laughter. If she had to be stranded for the night, she was glad it was with Remy.

He started the car. “Let me pull up to the door so you won’t get quite so wet.”

“Thanks.” She watched the rain as he drove across the parking lot to the end unit. “It appears to be raining sideways so not sure it’s possible to stay dry.”

She’d been right about the rain. Despite her mad dash to the door, she was soaked by the time they got into the room.

Although the decor was something out of the seventies—all gold, orange, and brown—the room was spotless and smelled faintly of pine cleaner.

She set her purse and the plastic bag on the small table by the window and closed the drapes. She turned and found him watching her. “What?”

He hitched his chin toward the closed drapes. “Is that de rigueur in these no-tell motels?”

She burst out laughing.

“What?” He began unbuttoning his wet shirt.

“I think that’s the first time I’d heard someone use those two phrases together in a sentence.”

He puffed out his chest. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Is that so?” Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry at the sight of him. He’d left the soaked shirt on, but it was unbuttoned. Her rapt gaze followed the trail of dark hair as it formed a V across his chest and left a trail that disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Heat rose in her face as her fingers itched to follow that trail all the way down to—

“Sasha?”

She blinked and met his gaze.

He winked. “As I was saying, carrying an extra uniform in my car is one of my talents. We can share.”

“Share? How?” Following the conversation threads was impossible with him nearly shirtless.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he said and grinned. “I figure you can wear the shirt and I’ll wear the pants. By morning our other clothes should be dry, and if not, we can throw them in the dryer. The wind will have calmed by then, and we can walk over there without getting soaked again.”

She nodded. “Okay, yeah that makes sense.”

“Of course, I still like the idea of me wearing everything and you wearing— Ouch! Ooh, Miss Honeycutt, who knew you were such a bloodthirsty little thing.”

…

When it was his turn in the small bathroom, the first thing Remy noticed was a lacy pink bra and panties draped over the towel rack. Touching them was a bit too skeevy. But oh, how he longed to. He swallowed. And swallowed again. If they were here and she was there…

When was the last time he’d drooled over a woman? But then, Sasha hadn’t been immune. He’d caught her gawking at him, and yes, he liked the look in her eyes, had seen it enough times to know what it meant.

He took a page from her book and left his black boxer briefs hung over the shower curtain bar and went commando in the dry uniform pants.

When he opened the bathroom door, she glanced over at him, and her eyes widened. She tugged on his uniform shirt as if trying to make it longer. As it was, it hit her around mid-thigh and he swallowed, remembering the pink lace in the bathroom. Tonight was going to be torture.

“I…uh…” She pulled on the shirttails. “Thanks for the snacks.”

“I figured, since I was already wet, I’d get some while you used the bathroom.” As if the sodas and chips needed explaining. Some smooth operator, Fontenot. He cleared his throat. “I also called Charlotte to let her know what happened. She said she and Evie would go and check on Henry.”

“Thank you.”

He tossed aside the towel he’d used to dry his hair. She glanced at the bed and back to him.

“Which side do you want?” He stalked toward her.

She swallowed. “Side?”

“Of the bed?” He tilted his head toward the king-size bed.

“I want…” She trailed off and glanced at the bed.

In an effort to keep his hands busy, he lifted the opened soda from her hands and drank. Please let me be right about what I’m reading in her eyes and in what she’s not saying. He handed the can back, and she took a sip before offering it to him.

He drained the can. “So, side?”

“What side are you going to be on?” She fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt.

“Well, I— Why?” She needed to stop teasing those buttons or he was sure he’d combust on the spot.

“Because I want to be under you.”

Remy’s heart slammed against his ribcage, as if trying to escape. He crushed the can in his fist.

“Sasha, are you sure?” Was that him croaking like that?

“Yes, it’s been so long…I’m…I’m probably going about this all wrong.”

Before she could change her mind, he put his arm behind her legs and scooped her up. He set her down on the bed and followed. Stretching out beside her, he pulled her into his arms. His mouth fastened hungrily onto hers. He’d been dreaming about kissing her—properly kissing her—since that night in New Orleans. It was everything he remembered and more…