Someone Like You (6 page)

Of course. All the better to see if Mac screwed up.

“She'll either be with me or her day-care provider. I've already given your office that information.”

“I have it right here.” Hollis opened a file. “Beverly Cooper, a local resident. Fifty-three, single. A bit eccentric, but considered to be a good person. No criminal record.”

Mac's temper flared. The little twit had investigated Bev? He wanted to say something. He wanted to
do
something. But he sat quietly and reminded himself that he'd made the choices that had brought him to this place. He had no one to blame but himself.

“You're familiar with the terms of the custody agreement?” Hollis asked. “You must maintain legal employment, meet regularly with me, maintain a suitable house for your daughter and see that she is provided for. In addition you're not to commit any criminal acts or even be charged with any criminal acts.”

“None of that is a problem.”

“I'm glad we're clear.” Hollis closed the folder and leaned forward. “Mac, I'll be blunt with you. I don't think men in law enforcement make good fathers.”

This was one of the few times Mac hated being right. “What is that opinion based on?” he asked, even as he had to grind his teeth to keep from reacting.

“Personal observation. Men on the edge have trouble relating to their families, especially their daughters. Too much tension, too much violence, has a way of changing a person. Look at your own situation. Based on what I read about the testimony, it was your time in the gang
unit that caused your divorce and your separation from Emily.”

Mac hated that the kid had a point.

“So how are things going with her?” the social worker asked, his voice low and gentle.

Mac thought about Emily not speaking to him, about her monochromatic food issues and her emotional distance.

“Just peachy,” he said easily. “Couldn't be better.”

Hollis sighed. “Whatever you may think of me personally, I do want to help.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

“All right. I'll see you in two weeks.”

 

M
AC SAT ON THE EDGE
of his daughter's bed. They'd survived the first twenty-four hours. He wouldn't count that as a victory, but at least it hadn't been a total disaster. Em didn't talk that much when he was around, but at least she hadn't mentioned leaving. He didn't think he could stand that.

“How was your day?” he asked, knowing he probably shouldn't.

“Okay.”

“What did Elvis think of Beverly?”

Her mouth curved up slightly. “He liked her.”

“Elvis always had great taste in women. I think she's pretty fun.”

“I like Jill.”

He thought of the slender beauty next door. “I know.”

“When we played dress-up tonight before dinner, she let me be the princess and she was my lady-in-waiting.”

“That was nice of her.” He shifted so he could stroke his daughter's hair. “I'm glad you're here, Em. I've missed you so much.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn't speak. He waited, hoping she would say something. After a few seconds, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

“Sleep well, kiddo.”

“Night.”

He turned off the lamp and walked out of the room. A night-light glowed, illuminating his way. When he was in the hall, he stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. She still hadn't called him Dad or Daddy. She'd avoided addressing him as anything. Was she punishing him, or had he simply lost the right to be called that?

Not sure of the answer, he walked downstairs. The silence filled the space like a living creature. He stood in the center of the living room and wondered what happened next. How did he fix things with his daughter? How did he work his job, satisfy Hollis, heal the emotional breach and figure out what to do next?

Footsteps on the porch gave him a more immediate task. He crossed to the front door and pulled it open. Jill smiled at him.

“I know you didn't eat. I tried not to care, but I couldn't stand it, so I brought lasagna.”

She stood with the single bulb adding a warm caramel cast to her dark hair, a foil-covered plate thrust out like an offering.

“I never could resist a woman with food,” he said, pushing the door open wide. “Want to keep me company?”

“Sure. Is Emily in bed?”

“Yeah.”

She gave him the plate and followed him to the kitchen. This house was similar to her aunt's, with a couple hundred more square feet and a bigger lot.

“Can I offer you anything?” he asked. “Beer, wine, Pop-Tarts?”

She laughed. “How about wine? I've only had one glass and that was about three hours ago, so I'm probably safe.”

“Not looking for a repeat of yesterday?”

“I think not. I like to keep my passing out to a minimum.”

“Probably a good policy.”

He grabbed a bottle of cabernet from a small wine rack on the counter and opened it. When he'd poured them each a glass, he sat across from her and removed the foil. The delicious smell made his stomach growl.

“I knew you hadn't eaten,” she told him.

“Em was full when I brought her home and it seemed like too much trouble to fix something just for me.”

“Typical male,” she murmured, and sipped her wine.

“That's a little judgmental.”

“But true.”

He ignored that and took a bite of the lasagna. Even if he hadn't been starved it would have been delicious. “Your aunt sure knows how to cook.”

“Agreed. I had two servings at dinner.” She leaned
back in her chair. “As did your daughter. Want to know how we got Emily to have some?”

He glanced down at the tomato sauce covering the lasagna and remembered his daughter dressed entirely in purple. “She didn't put up a fuss?”

“We played dress-up. Funny how the princess dress just happened to be red. She didn't change back into her regular clothes until
after
the meal.”

“Pretty slick.”

“You'll have to thank my aunt, not me. She's the one who came up with the idea.”

He put down his fork. “I'm sorry she's so difficult.”

“Emily? She's not. She's a sweetie.”

“But she's dealing with some tough issues. The divorce. Being here for the summer.”

“Of course. It's all been strange for her, but if the worst of it is a little manipulation of the adults around her by being picky with food, I think you're going to be fine. It's a pretty safe way to act out.”

He hadn't thought of it that way.

Sometime in the past few hours, Jill had let down her hair…literally. It fell long and straight to the middle of her back. She had even, delicate features—wide-set eyes, a straight nose and a stubborn pointed chin. She'd been a cute kid, but she was a beautiful woman. He vaguely remembered her having a crush on him when she'd been fifteen or sixteen. If she trailed after him with those puppy-dog eyes now, he'd have a hell of a time resisting her.

“How was your meeting with the social worker?” she asked.

He tore a piece of garlic bread in half and handed it to her. “You don't want to know.”

“That bad?”

“Worse. He's an uptight just-graduated idealist who doesn't think men in law enforcement make good fathers. I have to report to him every other week, take care of Emily and not have any run-ins with the law.”

“That doesn't sound too difficult, unless you were planning to commit a felony or two.”

“Not this week.” He sipped his wine. “I know his job is to keep Em safe. I want that, too. I want her to be happy. What I don't like is dealing with Hollis.” He shrugged. “I'll survive.”

“Maybe you can catch him speeding and give him a ticket. That would be fun.”

He grinned. “Good idea. I'll alert my deputies.”

She nibbled on the garlic bread. “Do you really like it here? Are you happy?”

He didn't think in terms of being happy or unhappy. He just was. “I'm glad to be back. As you pointed out, this is a great place to grow up. I've always liked the town. Even when I was a teenager and raising plenty of hell.”

“So this is a permanent move?”

“I'm running for sheriff in November.”

Jill looked surprised. “An actual election?”

“Not much of one. So far no one else is interested in opposing me.”

“Wow. So you're serious about sticking around.”

“About as serious as you are about leaving.”

“I thought you craved adventure,” she said, leaning forward and resting her forearms on the table. “Aren't you the guy who joined the military to see the world?”

“It was a way out. I knew I wouldn't go anywhere here, except maybe to get into more trouble. Your father showed me that.”

“He does like to save people, in his own meddling way. When he found out I'd left Lyle and been fired, he told me about the practice here.”

“You could have told him no.”

She laughed. “I suppose that's true. In theory. But he's very persuasive. Plus, I didn't have anywhere else to go. I'll manage until I land a job somewhere else.”

“Go back to being a big-city lawyer.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He took the last bite of lasagna and pushed the plate away. “Let's go get comfortable,” he said, picking up his glass and the bottle of wine.

“Sounds good.”

Jill followed him into the living room, where they settled on opposite ends of the worn sofa. Scattered rugs warmed up the hardwood floor. She liked the over size fireplace and the big windows. During the day, this room would get a lot of light.

“Nice,” she said. “How did you come to be in this house?”

“It's a rental. I'll buy something after the election.”

She still couldn't believe he was willing to settle down here on purpose, but apparently he was.

“We're destined to live next door to each other,” she teased. “At least for the time being.”

“Sounds like it. Of course, it's much more interesting now.”

She almost fainted from shock. Was he flirting with her? Whoa. No need to check her pulse to see if it had zipped into the aerobic range—she could feel the rapid thumping in her chest.

His dark eyes brightened with humor. “Do you disagree?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

She wanted to whimper with delight. She wanted to freeze-frame time and hang on to this moment forever. She wanted to yell to the heavens that Mac Kendrick thought she was interesting. Instead, she reminded herself that not only was her stay in town temporary, he had always been popular with the ladies. His flirting with her didn't mean much more than a knee-jerk reaction to being alone with a woman. Only a fool would take it personally. And a really smart woman might take advantage of the situation to soothe her recently shattered ego, as long as she kept things in perspective.

“You're very different from the teenager I remember,” he said. “You were cute then, but you're amazing now.”

Amazing? That worked. She resisted the urge to say
Tell me more,
and instead focused on an unpleasant truth.

“You didn't think I was cute. At least not naked.”

He nearly choked on his wine. “What?”

“You didn't think I was cute naked.”

He set down the glass and stared at her as if she were crazy. “I never
saw
you naked.”

Now it was her turn to be shocked. “Of course you did. On my eighteenth birthday. You were home on leave and I hid out in your bedroom.” She grimaced. “I wanted you to be my first time and you weren't interested. At least I'm assuming that's what the throwing up meant.”

“Wait a minute.” He shifted toward her on the sofa. “What are you talking about?”

Was it possible he didn't remember? No. He had to.

Refusing to be embarrassed about something that had happened a decade before, she met his questioning gaze.

“Do you remember being on leave?”

“Sure. I partied every night with my friends. A couple of times things got completely out of hand and I blacked out. Talk about being a dumb kid. But I would have remembered you naked.”

“Apparently not.”

Partying? She turned the idea over in her mind. Had that been it? Of course. It made sense. But at the time, she'd been crushed.

“I don't know if I should laugh or cry,” she admitted.

“Why don't you tell me what happened and I'll help you decide?”

He was sitting so close she could feel the warmth from his body. If she moved just a little, they would be touching. The thought made her stomach clench and her heart flutter.

She set her wineglass on the end table. “As I said, it was my eighteenth birthday. I went out to dinner with my dad, then when he went to bed, I crept over to your house. Your mom was already asleep, so I tiptoed inside and waited until you got home.”

She thought back to that long-ago evening. How scared and excited she'd been. How she'd thought that night would change everything. It had, but not in the way she'd imagined.

“You always teased me about being jailbait,” she told him.

He reached up and fingered a strand of her hair. “That was to remind
me
as much as you.”

“Really?” His words made her want to beam. “I don't care if you're lying, it's nice to hear.”

“It's the truth. So there you were, waiting in my bedroom, which I still can't believe. What happened?”

She winced. “The one thing I never would have dreamed. You walked in, hit the lights and I dropped my dress to the floor. I wasn't wearing anything underneath. You took one look at me, ran into the bathroom and promptly threw up.”

He stared at her incredulously. “No way in hell.”

“Do you think I'd
make up
an embarrassing moment like that? You were the first guy to see me naked. I've been emotionally scarred ever since.”