A Cop's Honor. Emilie Rose

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       Chapter Five

      BRANDON THREW DOWN his pen in disgust late Friday afternoon, pushed back from his desk and stabbed his fingers through his hair. He had shit for brains today. He’d tried repeatedly to focus on the case files on his desk, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t wipe what he’d seen Wednesday night from his mind.

      For a split second while standing on the landing outside Hannah’s bedroom something hotter than the hurricane lamp’s flame had flickered in Hannah’s eyes. Want. Need. Hunger. And for the span of a dozen racing heartbeats, he’d been tempted to give her what she desired. Because he’d wanted it, too. Then he’d come to his senses. He’d tried blaming the heat in her eyes on the reflection of the lamp’s fire. But he wasn’t buying it.

      Circumstances were throwing them together and causing the craziness. It had been five years and she didn’t date. That meant she didn’t have sex. She needed a man. Any man. Except him—the man she blamed for her husband’s death. It didn’t matter that she needed his help with Mason right now, a basic distrust—because he’d let her down, because he’d let Rick down—lay just below the surface.

      His dry spell hadn’t been nearly as long as hers, but it had obviously been too long if he was looking at Rick’s wife that way. He needed to rectify the situation. He reached for his phone but didn’t pick it up. He had no interest in dialing any of the numbers in his contact list, and he wasn’t interested in a casual pickup.

      As if his thoughts had activated the device, his cell phone vibrated on the desk. He glanced at the screen. He had a text message from his mother.

      Hello, dear. Jessamine and Logan are flying into town for the weekend. We’re going to have an impromptu cookout. Are you able to attend?

      His mother’s habit of always texting in complete sentences and with proper grammar made him smile. His youngest sister and her new husband lived in the Florida Keys. He didn’t get to see them often. He liked Logan, his brother-in-law, but a guy always had to keep an eye out for his baby sister’s welfare.

      Depends on day and time. Helping Hannah, he tapped back.

      Hannah? Are you dating someone new?

      He cringed. He could practically feel her excitement even though they were miles apart. She’d made it clear she wanted more grandchildren. He’d also made it clear they wouldn’t be coming from him. But she wasn’t listening.

      Rick’s Hannah.

      I thought she wasn’t speaking to you?

      His parents had been at the funeral and witnessed the blowup.

      She needs help with a project.

      What kind of project?

      His mother had been a schoolteacher until she’d quit at the end of the last school year to help his father around the orchard, and she understood kids better than anyone he knew. He would like her advice. He debated filling her in. But that was a face-to-face conversation. Not a texted one.

      Home maintenance.

      Truth, just not the whole truth.

      You could bring her and the children to the cookout. They are welcome and we would love to see them.

      Given Rick had practically grown up at their house, the sentiment was no surprise.

      I’ll relay message. When’s dinner?

      Saturday night. Come early. Your father will need assistance, but don’t let on that you’re helping.

      Will do.

      He put down the phone. It immediately vibrated again, but this time “Hannah Leith” flashed on the screen, sending a jolt through him.

      Need u 2 come over. NOW.

      A freefalling sensation hit him, not unlike what he’d experienced the one time he’d stupidly let Rick convince him to try skydiving. He grabbed the phone and hit her number. This wasn’t texting material, either.

      “Hello?” The whispered response was almost inaudible.

      Adrenaline pulsed through him. People whispered on the phone when they were in danger. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

      “It’s me. Mason. Mom doesn’t know I swiped her phone. There’s water all over the kitchen floor. Something busted. She wants to call a plumber, but she told her friend Lucy we can’t afford it this month. She’s kinda upset. I think she might cry.”

      Relief doused panic. Water and tears he could handle. “The cutoff valve is in the pantry. Bottom left corner. Turn off the water. I’m on my way.”

      He grabbed the file he’d been working on and shoved it into his briefcase. Thankful the rest of the team had already left to begin whatever their Friday night entailed, he signed out and headed for Hannah’s. СКАЧАТЬ