The Right To Remain Mine (12 page)

        Willow opened her mouth to reply before it struck her. She hadn't once mentioned self-defense since her cousin had come through the door. And there was no way Dylan would've known why Malloy had been at her house in the first place. She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Your brother has a big mouth."

        Camille sighed. "Kit didn't tell me. He told Tina, who told me. Now lift up your bangs so I can see this bruise for myself."

        Mumbling a curse under her breath, Willow complied and tried to ignore the sympathetic coo her friend made as she leaned forward and studied the mark Theo Franklin had left two days before.

        "At least tell me Malloy taught you a little self-defense before you two slept together," Camille demanded.

        Ignoring the question, Willow let her hair fall back into place. "So, everyone in the family knows what happened at the jail?"

        "Of course," Camille announced brightly. "You'll probably be hearing from your parents and your brother soon enough. I'm just the lucky one who caught you first."

        "Wonderful." Willow slumped further into her chair.

        "Now, back to this Malloy fellow," Camille started again, making her cousin groan. "Everyone else will lecture you enough about staying safe from your clients. But they won't dare talk about your sex life. That's what I'm for. And I'm concerned." She paused a second and then restated, "Actually, Dylan's concerned. But if he's concerned, then I'm concerned."

        "Well, don't be," Willow assured. "After last night, I'll probably never talk to Malloy again in my life."

        Camille narrowed her eyes. "Probably won't or definitely won't?"

        Sighing, Willow rolled her eyes. "Definitely won't." But even as she spoke the words, a little something wilted and died inside her.

        Her cousin's shoulders fell with obvious relief, but she still sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth as if troubled. "You seriously don't think he's the one? You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

        Willow choked on a laugh. "Dear Lord, no! Trust me, Camy. Deputy Raith Malloy is most definitely not the one for me." Good God, she hoped not. Heaven help her if she ended up falling for a stubborn, arrogant selfpossessed jerk like Malloy. An arrogant jerk who made her heart race and her pulse leap and could wheedle her into a heated debate that had her feeling more alive in his company than she'd ever felt in anyone else's.

        "Oh, thank goodness," Camille sighed, letting out a relieved breath. "Because Dylan really despises him. He actually asked me to come and talk some sense into you today."

        "He did?" Willow's lips curved. "He was that worried about me, huh? How sweet. Maybe Dylan was supposed to be my Prince Charming."

        Her cousin frowned. "Don't even go there."

        Willow laughed. "Oh, stop. Dylan would never leave you. And don't worry about Malloy either. He and I won't be happening again."

        "Knock on wood," Camille retorted.

        "Knock on anything you like, honey. Last night was a onetime fluke. A very pleasant, mind-blowing, erotic fluke, one I won't be forgetting any time soon. But it won't be repeated." Camille stared at her so strangely she actually squirmed. "What?" she asked a little defensively.

        "Was it really that good?" Camille asked softly.

        Willow almost moaned as the memories caused gooseflesh to prickle her arms. "It was better," she murmured in a husky, nostalgic voice.

        "Then maybe he might just be—"

        Thank God the phone rang at that very moment, interrupting them, because Willow had this horrible premonition her friend might actually suggest Deputy Raith Malloy was her soul mate.

        She eagerly answered. "Goode and Wilson." Due to the sudden racing in her pulse, she barely managed to keep her voice professional. "Willow DeVane speaking."

        "You were attacked by one of your clients?" The incredulous voice of her brother exploded through the fiber optic wires, making her wince and pull the phone an inch from her ear. Yes, the entire family definitely knew about what had happened at the jail. But for once in her life, she was more willing to listen to a lecture from Chase than hear preposterous remarks from her best friend.

        She waved Camille from the office so she could pay attention to her brother's ranting and raving.

        The Dexter County Theatre, located on MacArthur Avenue, hosted an assortment of events all year around. Typically, local musical talent would provide a concert in the auditorium. But when a traveling theatre advertised their performance of Hairspray, Camille had begged to go.

        Dylan hadn't been able to say no to his miserably pregnant wife. But when Camille asked Willow to accompany them, her good friend hadn't been so accommodating. Willow loved spending time with her cousin. But whenever Dylan was around, she always felt like a third wheel. It wasn't so bad in private, when she went over to their place or they came to hers. But in public, it was a lot more prevalent, and she didn't like to play three's a crowd.

        Originally, she'd talked Cole in coming as well, as in a double date kind of thing. But DiAngelo wasn't very reliable these days. The first time he'd asked her out, he'd come on strong and been attentive, always willing to escort her to this affair or that. Then he gradually grew to learn it would take him a lot more than a couple of dates to get into her pants, and he'd slowly been backing off, not wanting to put that much commitment into their occasional dates. Willow couldn't blame him. She didn't want it that serious between them either. She did miss the public companionship he gave her, though.

        Now, as the play let out and a horde of people surged toward the exit, she looked like a pathetic third wheel, especially with Dylan taking Camille's elbow and keeping her steady as person after person bumped into them.

        They'd just cleared the door from the main arena when a man in front of them took a big step back to avoid running into someone else and backed into Camille's stomach with enough impact to make her gasp. Willow feared Dylan was going to commit murder. But he merely pushed the guy forward again, making the stranger spin around to glare until he caught sight of the pregnant woman he'd rammed and immediately transformed his rude comment into an apology.

        Willow enjoyed the little by-play. She always found it amusing when Dylan went into protective mode. And the poor man was about to blow with the crowd crushing in around them. He put his arm around Camille to muffle the impact of anyone else colliding into her. Willow shook her head.

        "You okay?" Dylan asked his wife.

        Camille nodded and rubbed a hand over her stomach. "I'm fine. But now I have to go to the bathroom." Her gaze strayed Willow's way.

        "Oh, hell no," Willow said. She'd never been the type to group potty. Tonight, the line to the lady's room especially turned her off. "I'm staying here and waiting with Dylan," she stated, standing firm, even when Dylan gave her a scowl for deserting his wife in her time of need. But she refused to budge. The crammed, perfume-infested ladies' room was the last place she wanted to be.

        Dylan shifted closer to her as Camille moved to the back of the line. "Wouldn't have killed you to go with her."

        "If you want her to have some company, you go with her."

        He mumbled something under his breath, but Willow didn't catch the words. She eyed a family trying to work their way through the congestion. The father bent down to pick up his young daughter. Keeping a hand on the low part of his wife's back, he held the girl close with his other arm.

        "Daddy, I want to be an actress when I grow up," the girl said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

        Willow smiled softly. "Besides," she told Dylan. "I think it was enough that I came tonight. She already owes me big time."

        Dylan shoved his hand into his pockets but didn't reply. He had to be suffering just as badly as she was, but he would swallow his tongue before he made one negative comment about the play. His beloved had wanted to come, so by God, he'd act excited for her benefit.

        "God, did that suck or what?" Willow asked, bumping his elbow with her own. She thought maybe he'd give his honest opinion since Camy was out of earshot. But, loyal to a fault, Dylan refused to comment. Rolling her eyes, Willow turned away only to focus on another couple moving steadily toward the exit. Her heart bumped hard against her ribcage.

        "Well, well," she said, proud she sounded so casual. "If it isn't Deputy Malloy."

        Beside her, Dylan tensed. Malloy glanced over at his name, and a pair of scorching blue eyes zeroed in on her. The woman at his side also paused and looked up at the call, erasing all doubt she might not be with him. She eyed Willow openly, very upfront about her curiosity, no doubt wondering how Willow fit into her escort's life.

        Willow took in his date with one glance. Tall, slim, dark hair and eyes. Deciding she was better looking than his arm candy, Willow turned back to Malloy. She was tempted to say something nasty like I guess it's true that you men always trade down, hmm. But the thought of him with someone else and so soon hurt too much for her to say anything. She settled for a cool scowl.

        Malloy didn't even notice, too busy checking out the man next to her. When he realized it was Dylan, he turned back to give her a look-who'sfooling-around-with-whom look.

        The woman with him poked him in the side, just under the ribcage to gain his attention. It was a well-delivered jab. She seemed comfortable with it as if she'd done it many times before and was quite aware it was a sensitive spot for him. She knew how to touch him, which made Willow's skin tingle with a panicky kind of jealous that left her lungs empty of air.

        Malloy shot his date a surprised look.

        "Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Raith?" she asked, only to promptly turn back to Willow and smile expectantly.

        Malloy regretfully muttered, "This is Willow DeVane."

        His date glanced toward Dylan but Malloy didn't bother to acknowledge him. The woman blinked at Malloy, obviously startled by his rudeness. But then she forced another smile at Willow and stuck out her hand. "Hello. I'm Kathie Becker."

        Willow shook hands with her good-naturedly. "A pleasure to meet you," she lied. "This is my cousin, Dylan Taggart," she added since Malloy obviously wasn't going to.

        Dylan nodded politely. "Ma'am," he said, but his face lifted suddenly as he focused on the bathroom. His eyes widened and he brusquely said, "Excuse me." Quickly brushing past Willow, Malloy and Kathie, he hurried away.

        Frowning, Willow turned to see Camille stumble toward him with tears streaming down her cheeks and looking ten months pregnant.

        Dylan caught her face in his hands and drew her protectively close. "What happened?" he demanded urgently, as if he were ready to take on any foe who had insulted his woman.

        "I saw myself in the bathroom mirror," Camille wailed. "Oh, God, Dylan. I look like a cow. I'm so fat. I can't take this anymore."

        Dylan pulled her into a hug and kissed her hair. "Camille, baby, you are not fat. Sweetheart, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

        But Camille buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. "I'm obese!"

        Willow sighed. "Here we go again." She opened her purse to pull out a small tissue holder and tugged one free. After handing it to Dylan, she watched a bit enviously as he reverently dabbed his wife's cheeks dry.

        "And this is Camille, Dylan's wife," Willow said to Kathie, smiling with amusement at Raith's expression as he watched Camille with horrorstruck fascination.

        "Hello, Camille," Kathie said, soothingly and smiled at Willow's cousin. "How far along are you?"

        "Eight months," Dylan answered for his wife.

        Kathie's eyes shot open wide. "My goodness," she murmured. "I

would've guessed only four or five."

        Camille finally lifted her head. "Really?" she said and sniffed back some tears.

        "When I was eight months pregnant, I was out to here," Kathie commented.

        Willow glanced at Malloy, shocked to discover he would date a woman with a kid. She was surprised enough as it was that he had attended a musical. But, come to think of it, he didn't look all that happy about being present. He kept reaching up to tug at his tie.

        And, wow, did Deputy Malloy look good in a tie or what. He sure could clean up nice. He scowled her way as if he could sense her studying him, and though Willow was a little embarrassed to get caught ogling, she didn't duck her head. She merely met his stare head on and felt the immediate shock of arousal when their gazes connected.

        Kathie once again gave him an expert nudge in the ribs to gain his attention. "Wasn't I huge?" she pressed.

        He grunted out a non-committal sound as if he knew answering either way would get him into trouble. All the while, his eyes never left Willow.

        Still finding it hard to breathe, she gazed back, wondering how he could know this woman even when she was pregnant. Were they his kids? How many did they have together? She prayed it wasn't a serious relationship, maybe just one of those on-again, off-again things that ended with a few children.

        Willow winced and glanced away. Right. She was smart enough to realize that if Kathie could get him to take her to a musical, there had to be some strong ties biding them together.

        It struck her that he'd cheated on this woman. He'd cheated with Willow.