Cavanaugh Rules (27 page)

Kansas tried again. She’d been the object of Lawrence’s displeasure before, when she’d first been assigned to him. In time, she’d won him over. It looked now as if all her hard work and dedication had just been unraveled in the last couple of minutes.

“We’re hitting a dead end,” she explained patiently, “and we’re hoping that one of them might have seen something that we didn’t.”

“They were kind of busy at the time,” he pointed out. Lawrence didn’t bother trying to mask the sarcasm in his voice.

“We appreciate that, Captain Lawrence,” Ethan said respectfully but firmly. “But you never know what might help break a case. Sometimes the smallest, most inconsequential thing—”

Impatient, Lawrence waved a hand at him, dismissing the explanation. “Yeah, yeah, I know the drill—and the drivel,” he added pointedly. He looked far from pleased. Just as it seemed that he was going to be stubbornly uncooperative, the captain grudgingly said, “If you really think it can help the investigation, I’ll send them over to talk to you.” He looked at Kansas and his expression softened, but only slightly. Ethan could see that she had fallen out of favor. With any luck, it was only temporary. “You want everybody?”

She gave him a little leeway. “Everybody who was on call for the fires.”

The disgruntled expression intensified. “That’s everybody.”

“Wasn’t it just one shift?” Ethan asked innocently. Most of the fires had taken place under the cover of twilight or later.

“They overlapped,” the captain answered coldly. His attention was back to Kansas. “Okay with you if I send just three at a time—barring a fire, of course,” he added cynically.

Ethan ran interference for her, determined to take the brunt of the captain’s displeasure. “Of course,” he said. “Goes without saying. The fires always take precedent.”

There was something akin to contempt in the captain’s dark eyes as they swept over him. “Glad you agree,” Lawrence finally commented. And then he asked Kansas, “Tomorrow okay with you? Most of the guys you want to talk to are off right now. It’s been a rough few days.”

In Ethan’s opinion, it had been a rough few months. And besides, it was getting late anyway. He and Kansas were both off the clock and had been for the last half hour. Lawrence had kept them waiting almost an hour before he “found” the time to see them.

“Tomorrow’s fine,” Ethan answered. Leaning forward, he shook Lawrence’s hand. “Thanks for your cooperation.” He managed to say the words with a straight face.

“Hey, we’re all on the same team, right?” It was hard to tell whether Lawrence was being serious or sarcastic, but Ethan was leaning toward the latter.

“Right,” Kansas agreed.

It had earned her a less than warm look from the captain. She was in the doghouse and she knew it. It was obvious that the man was annoyed with her because she hadn’t been able to somehow spare him what she was sure Lawrence saw as a major inconvenience.

She was equally sure that he didn’t realize that his men were under suspicion at the moment. Because if he had known, he would have said as much. Most likely at the top of his lungs while liberally sprinkling more than a few choice words throughout his statement. Lawrence wasn’t the kind to keep things bottled up and to himself. If he was angry,
everyone
knew he was angry. They also knew about what and at whom. The man didn’t believe in sparing feelings.

Taking their leave, Kansas and Ethan walked out of the fire station. Once outside, she turned to him and said, “You should have let me do the talking.”

He’d done the brunt of it for a very simple reason. “You’ve got to come back here. I don’t. I wanted Lawrence to think of me as the messenger in all this. When he realizes what’s going on, he’s not going to be a happy camper,” Ethan predicted. “I don’t want him taking it out on you.”

Kansas looked at him, curbing her natural impulse to shrug off any offers of help and declare that she could take care of herself. If pressed, she would have to admit, if only to herself, that it was rather nice to have someone looking out for her. It was something she’d really never experienced before.

Her lips curved in a half smile as she said, “I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

Smiling in response, Ethan lead the way across the parking lot to his car.

The fact that she’d accepted his help had him deciding to venture out a little further. He watched as she got in, then got in himself. His key in the ignition, he left it dormant for a moment and turned toward her.

“Feel like getting some dinner?” he asked her, then added, “We’re off the clock.”

A couple of weeks ago, she would have turned him down without a moment’s hesitation. A couple of weeks ago, she
had
turned him down, she recalled.

But that was then, and this was now. And she really didn’t feel like going home and being by herself. Not after the captain had just looked at her as if she were a leper.

“Sure, why not?”

He’d learned not to declare victory with her until he was completely certain of it. “You realize I don’t mean a drive-through, right?”

Her smile widened. “I realize.”

He found he had to force himself to look away. Her mouth could look very enticing when it wasn’t moving. “Good. We’re on the same page.”

Not yet,
she thought, a warmth slipping over her. But she had a feeling that they were getting there.

Chapter 11

“Y
ou look like you could use a friend,” Ethan commented as he sank down into his chair across from Kansas.

It was the end of yet another grueling day of interviews. For the last two days, he and Kansas had been questioning the firefighters who had been the first responders to each and every fire under investigation. The firefighters who, for the most part, she had once worked with side by side.

The interviews, as she’d expected, had not been a walk in the park. At best, the men were resentful and growing steadily more begrudging in their answers. At worst, the responses bordered on being insulting, hostile and verbally abusive. And Kansas, because she was considered one of them—or had been until now—had caught the worst of it.

It took her a moment now to realize that O’Brien was talking to her. And then another moment to replay in her head what he’d just said.

“I could use a drink,” she countered, closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair. Every muscle in her shoulders felt welded to the one next to it, forming knots the size of boulders. “And a friend,” she added after a beat.

If he was surprised by the latter admission, he didn’t show it. “I might have a solution for both,” Ethan proposed. The comment had her opening her eyes again. “We’re off duty.” Technically, they’d been off for the last twenty minutes. “What do you say to stopping by Malone’s?”

“I still have these reports to finish,” she protested, indicating the daunting pile of files sitting in front of her on the desk.

Getting up, Ethan leaned over their joint desks and shoved the files over to the far corner.

“We’re off duty,” he repeated. Then, to make his point, he rounded their desks, got behind her chair and pulled it back so that she was actually sitting in the aisle rather than at her desk.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “What’s Malone’s?” she wanted to know.

Ethan took her hand, urging her to her feet. She had no choice but to acquiesce. “A haven,” Ethan answered simply.

“A haven that serves drinks,” Kansas amended in amusement.

“That’s what makes it a
good
haven,” he explained, a whimsical smile playing along his lips.

He’d become acquainted with Malone’s the day he became a detective. One of the other detectives invited him along for a celebratory drink in honor of his newly bestowed position. Malone’s was a local gathering place, more tavern than bar. Detectives of the Aurora police force as well as various members of their family gravitated there for no other reason than to just be among friends who understood what it meant to be a police detective or part of a detective’s family.

On any given evening, a healthy representation of the Cavanaughs could be found within the ninety-year-old establishment’s four walls. He, Kyle and Greer had discovered that shortly after they’d discovered their new identities. Coming to Malone’s helped bolster a sense of camaraderie as well as a sense of belonging.

“Are you up for it?” he prodded.

“If I say no, you won’t give me any peace until I surrender.” It wasn’t a question, it was an assumption. O’Brien had definite pit bull tendencies. She could relate to that. “So I guess I might as well save us both some grief and say yes.”

Ethan grinned, looking exceedingly boyish. He didn’t come across like someone to be reckoned with—but she knew he was.

“Good conclusion,” he told her. He watched her close down her computer. “I can take you,” he volunteered. “And then later I can bring you back to your car.”

The last interview had gone exceptionally badly. Tom Williams, a man she had once regarded as a friend, had all but called her a traitor. She was feeling very vulnerable right now, and the last thing she wanted was to be in a car with Ethan when she felt like that. Major mistakes were built on missteps taken in vulnerable moments. If she hadn’t felt so alone, she wouldn’t have fallen for Grant like that.

“Why don’t I just follow you and save you the trouble of doubling back,” she countered.

“No trouble,” he assured her, spreading his hands wide. The look on her face didn’t change. “Have it your way,” he declared, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll lead the way.” She had her purse, and her computer was powered down. He looked at her expectantly. “You ready?”

Kansas caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She supposed that one drink couldn’t hurt. But one, she promised herself, was going to be her limit.

“Ready,” she echoed.

* * *

It was a good plan, and had she stuck to it she would have been home at around the time she’d initially planned. In addition, there would have been plenty of time to get a good night’s sleep. But she strayed from the path within the first fifteen minutes of arrival.

Because she’d felt as stiff as a rapier and really wanted to loosen up a little and fit in, she’d downed the first drink placed in front of her instead of sipping it. Ethan’s cautionary words to go slow—something that surprised her—were ringing in her ears as she ordered a second drink. Maybe she’d ordered it
because
he’d warned her to go slow and she was feeling combative.

After facing what amounted to blatant hostility all day, being here, amid the laughter of friendly people in a warm atmosphere, was the difference between night and day. Reveling in it, she consequently let her guard down as she absorbed the warm vibrations of the people around her.

An hour into it, as more and more people filled the tavern, she turned to Ethan and whispered, “I can’t feel my knees.”

He hadn’t left her side the entire time and had warned her against the last two of the three drinks she’d had. He looked down now, as if to verify what he was about to say. “They’re still there,” he assured her.

“I’m serious,” she hissed. She didn’t like this vague, winking-in-and-out feeling that had come over her. “What does that mean?”

This time he looked at her incredulously. She was serious. Who would have thought? “You’ve never been drunk before?”

“I’m drunk?” Kansas echoed, stunned. “You sure?” she questioned.

Suppressing his grin, Ethan held up his hand, folding down two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up right now?”

Kansas squinted, trying her best to focus. Her best was not quite good enough. “How many chances do I get?”

He had his answer. “Okay, Cinderella, time for you to go.”

Kansas tried to take a deep breath and began to cough instead. She was feeling very wobbly. “I don’t think I can drive.”

“No one was going to let you,” he assured her. His tone was friendly but firm. He would have wrestled the keys away from her if he’d had to. “C’mon, let’s go outside for some fresh air,” he urged, slowly guiding her through the crowd.

She found that she had to concentrate very hard to put one foot in front of the other without allowing her knees to buckle. “I’d rather go somewhere more private. With you.” Those were the words in her head. How they’d managed to reach her tongue and emerge, she really wasn’t sure.

He nodded toward the room behind them teeming with people. “Right now, outside
is
more private. And I’ll be coming with you. I’ll be the one holding you up,” he told her.

“Good,” she said, “because I’m not altogether sure I can manage to do that on my own,” she confessed. The second the words registered with her brain, she asked, “What did you put in my drink?”

“I didn’t put anything into your drink,” he told her, shouldering a path for her as he kept his arm around her waist. He caught Kyle looking his way—and smiling. “Could be that having three of them in a row might have had something to do with your knees dissolving on you.”

Having made it to the front door, he pushed it open and guided her over the threshold. Once outside, he moved over to the side and leaned her against the wall in an effort to keep her upright and steady. He had the feeling that if he stepped back, she’d slide right down to the ground.

He was close to her. So close that his proximity worked its way into her system, undermining every single resolution she’d ever made.

God, he was handsome, she thought. Jarringly handsome.

“You know, you’re just too damn good-looking for my own good.”

She would have never said that sober,
he thought. Ethan couldn’t help the grin that came to his lips. “I’ll remember you said that. You probably won’t want me to, but I will.” He put his arm up to hold her in place as she began to sink a little. “Take a deep breath,” he instructed. “It’ll help.”

She did as he told her, which was when Ethan realized that his supporting arm was way too close to her chest. As she inhaled, her breasts rose, making contact with his forearm.

All sorts of responses went ricocheting through Ethan.

“Maybe not quite so deep,” he suggested.

She was very aware of the contact. And equally aware of what it was doing to her.

“Why?” she asked, cocking her head as she looked at him, her blond hair spilling out onto his arm like soft fairy dust. “Am I getting to you, Detective O’Brien?”

She has no idea, does she?
he thought. “You need to sleep this off,” he informed her.

Her eyes were bright as she asked, “You’re taking me home?”

“Yes.” And then, to make sure that there wasn’t any confusion about this, he added, “Your home.”

Kansas sucked in another deep, deep breath. “ ’Kay,” she agreed glibly.

Weaving one arm around her waist again, Ethan began to usher her to his car. While trying to maneuver, Kansas got the heel of her shoe caught in a crack in the asphalt. She kept moving, but the shoe didn’t, and she wound up dipping forward. Sensing she was about to fall, Ethan tightened his hold around her waist, dragging her closer against him.

For one second, their faces were less than a meas-urable inch away from one another.

And the next second, even that was gone.

Giving in to the moment and her weakened state of resistance, Kansas kissed him. Not lightly as she had in the kiss they’d previously shared, but with all the feeling that Ethan had stirred up within her. The alcohol she’d consumed had eroded her defenses and melted the distance she’d been determined to keep between herself and any viable candidate for her affections. Kansas wrapped her arms around his neck as she leaned into his very hard body. Leaned into the kiss that was swallowing them both up.

For a single isolated moment in time, Ethan let himself enjoy what was happening. Enjoy it and savor it because almost from the beginning, he’d wondered what it would be like to
really
kiss this vibrant woman who had for reasons that were far beyond him been thrust into his world.

Now he had his answer.

The kiss packed a wallop that left him breathless...and wanting more. Definitely more.

Which was when the warning flares went up.

This wasn’t just something to enjoy and move on. This was something that created intense cravings that would inevitably demand to be filled.

As heat engulfed his body, he knew he had to tear himself free—or else there very likely would be no turning back. And if he was going to make love with this woman, it was
not
going to be because her ability to reason had been diluted by something that came out of a bottle marked 90 proof.

Expending more self-control and effort than he ever had before, Ethan forcibly removed her arms from around his neck, broke contact and took a less than steady step back.

Bewilderment crossed her face. How could she have been so wrong? It was only because she was still inebriated that she had the nerve to ask, “You don’t want me?”

He heard the confusion and hurt in her voice. “Not on my conscience, no.”

His keys already in his hand, he pointed them toward his car, pressed the button and released the locks a second before he gingerly turned her toward his vehicle. Ethan opened the door and then very carefully lowered her onto the passenger seat. When she merely sat there, he ushered in her legs, shifting her so that she faced forward.

Hurrying around the back of the car, Ethan got in on the driver’s side.

“You don’t want me,” she repeated in a soft, incredulous voice that was barely above a whisper. “God, I’m such an idiot,” she upbraided herself.

Sticking the key in the ignition, he left it there and turned toward her. Maybe it was safer to have her think that, but the hurt in her voice was more than he could live with.

“Look, on a scale of one to ten, wanting you comes in at fifteen,” he told her. “But I want you because
you
made the decision to be with me. I don’t want you making love with me because the decision was made for you by your alcohol consumption.”

She stopped listening after the first part. “Fifteen?” she questioned as he started the engine.

“Yeah,” he bit off, frustration eating away at him. There were times he wished he wasn’t such a damn Boy Scout—even if his reasoning was dead on. “Fifteen.”

Kansas took a deep breath, smiling from ear to ear with deep satisfaction. Sliding down in her seat, she stretched like a cat waking from a long, invigorating nap in the sun.

She had the grace of a feline as well, Ethan thought, trying—and failing—to ignore her.

She slanted a coy glance at him. “I can live with that.”

He only wished he could.

But he was going to have to, he lectured himself. He had no other choice.

* * *

The most intense part of her buzz had worn off by the time Ethan made the turn that brought them into her garden apartment complex.

Her knees, she noted, were back, as were some of her inhibitions. But there was something new in the mix as well: surprise steeped in respect.

Ethan could have easily taken advantage of her temporary mindless condition. She’d all but thrown herself at him. Had he been anyone else, he could have very easily taken her to the backseat of his car and had sex with her, then crowed about it later to his friends.

That he didn’t left her feeling grateful—and feeling something more than just simple attraction.

There was nothing simple about what was going on inside her.

The emotion was vaguely familiar, yet at the same time it was as new as the next sunrise. And she had no idea what to make of it, what to do about it or where to go from here. It was all just one great big question mark for her.