Hailey's Hero

скачать книгу бесплатно


Hailey figured he meant it, that he’d, at least on some level, had plenty of disappointments in his own life. Maybe that’s why she found it so easy to confide in him. “I’d always considered my dad a hero because he was a policeman. And I looked forward to every visit.”

Nick nodded as though he understood, but she wasn’t sure he really did.

“I could never understand why he didn’t live with us, like other fathers did, but I figured it was because he was busy. I didn’t know he had another family.” Hailey sighed softly, again recalling the painful night she’d seen her father for the last time.

He’d promised to come to her birthday, and she’d told all of her friends they could meet him. But something had come up, he’d told her, and he couldn’t come to her party the next day. Then he’d handed her a twenty-dollar bill, as though the money would appease her. It hadn’t.

She looked at Nick, caught him watching her, waiting for her to speak. “The night before I turned six, he and my mother had an argument in the kitchen. I’m still not entirely sure what it was about, but my mother spent the night crying. The next morning she got a wild hair, and we moved to Minnesota.”

“Just like that?” Nick asked.

She wasn’t sure what he meant.

“Did your mother leave a forwarding address? Any way for your dad to find you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not.” Hailey bit her lip until it hurt. She supposed that might be one reason Harry had neglected to call until just two weeks ago. But he was a cop, a detective, and he’d found her in Walden, hadn’t he?

“Maybe it was your mom’s fault he wasn’t there for you.”

“In part, maybe.” She blew out a sigh. “But my mom still suffered from his rejection. She had good days and bad ones. Sometimes, during low points, she used to drink—Scotch and too much of it. One day, when I was about ten, I came home from school and found her passed out on the bed. She was clutching that photo in her hand.”

“People get sentimental when they drink to forget.”

“Yeah, I suppose they do. But mom had an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand.” The tears Hailey had fought began to well in her eyes. “I called 911.”

“Tough job for a kid.”

“Yes. But at least help arrived in time.” She paused. “That day.”

“That day?”

“Four years ago, I came home too late. I called the paramedics, and they called for the coroner.” A sob escaped from someplace where it had lain dormant for years, and the man across from her reached out his arms.

Hailey had never had someone to hold her, to offer comfort. And as much as she wanted to maintain an emotional distance, she fell easily into his embrace.

Nick held Hailey while she cried, stroking her back. Her hair, clean and silky, sluiced through his fingers. The scent of lilac encompassed him, wrapping him in a swirl of softness.

He’d never held someone so gentle, so vulnerable in his life. And he wasn’t sure what he should say. Something sappy, probably. But he couldn’t bring himself to utter a word. His hands just moved up and down her back, as though they knew instinctively what to do, how to comfort. The rest of him didn’t have a clue.

Her sweet touch stirred his blood, aroused an erection he tried to ignore. Sexual feelings, he supposed, were the only ones he was adept at handling.

Something mushy in his heart went out to Hailey—both the child who’d had to deal with a suicidal mother and the young woman who’d blamed her dad for the misery in her life.

Harry had told Nick there was a lot more to the story than met the eye. And Nick had no trouble believing him. Harry wasn’t the kind of guy to father a child and not acknowledge her. He was too decent. Too moral and upstanding.

Nick considered telling Hailey who had sent him and why, but thought better of it. Too much had been said tonight. He’d wait and discuss it over coffee in the morning.

When Hailey’s tears had been spent, she pulled away and swiped at her eyes with the back of a hand—first one, then the other.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling again and offering him a weak smile. “I don’t usually get weepy.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against the softness of her skin. “It’s been a tough evening.”

“Yeah,” she said, again wiping her eyes. “And it’s time to call it a night. I’ll get you some bedding for the sofa.”

When she stood, her eyes remained locked on his. And as she moved, her shin rammed the glass edge of the coffee table. “Ouch.”

“Are you okay?” Nick reached for her hand, pulling her gently around. He stooped to look at her leg, taking the shapely calf in his hand.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Really.”

But something in her eyes told him she wasn’t fine. And neither was he. But it had little to do with pain from contact with the table, and everything to do with the heat of his touch.

When he stood, facing her again, she swallowed hard, and her lips parted.

Damn. He had an incredible urge to kiss her. Just once.

She must have had the very same fantasy, because she placed a hand on his shoulder, then moved her fingertips toward his neck, his jaw, his cheek.

Ah, Hailey. Nick was lost in her touch, in her springtime scent.

He pulled her close and lowered his mouth to hers. She moaned in anticipation, or maybe surrender. He wasn’t sure, but when she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to seek hers, the rebel in him took over.

The kiss was deep and hot. Demanding. And Nick couldn’t seem to get enough of the woman in his arms. His hands roamed her back, her hips, and he pulled her flush against him. Against a telltale erection. If he’d frightened her, she gave him no clue, because she only leaned in closer.

He didn’t know where this was heading. The decent side of him said to back off, but the rebel side wasn’t listening.

When Hailey placed her hands against his chest and broke the kiss, he wasn’t sure whether he felt relief or frustration. Probably a combination of both.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said.

“About the kiss? Or about stopping it?”

“Both, I guess.” She offered him a half smile, as though trying to shrug off the obvious desire they’d both shared, but a passion-induced flush on her chest and neck told him her arousal would take longer to subside than her words suggested.

“Yeah. Me, too,” the decent side of him said.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get the bedding for you.” She drew away, leaving him with the lingering scent of lilac.

While she disappeared down the hall to a linen closet, Nick plopped down in the easy chair and sank back into his seat. The evening had taken a lot out of him, but it wasn’t just the spilling of tears and memories that had affected him. Something else had zapped the energy out of him, weakened him like he’d stayed in a sauna too damn long. He’d never been that close to an emotional woman before. At least not one that wasn’t yelling and throwing things at him.

He stood when Hailey entered the room and helped her make up a bed on the sofa, but they both remained quiet. Lost in their thoughts.

And their regrets, he supposed, although he didn’t regret the kiss. Not really. His real regret was the damn erection that continued to plague him.

She glanced down at the bed they’d made, then looked up at him and smiled. “Good night.”

“Night.” He stood there for a while, long after she took one of the candles, padded down the hall and closed the bedroom door.

He figured sleep would be a long time coming, but he slipped out of his pants and draped them over the easy chair in the corner.

Usually, he slept in the raw, but tonight, as he settled onto the sofa, he figured it best to wear his briefs.

Hours later the flame in the fireplace had dwindled down to a soft red glow, and although he was tired, sleep evaded him. He stared at the ceiling and continued to contemplate the woman who slept down the hall.

When a scream sounded from behind the closed bedroom door, he jumped from the sofa.

“No!” Hailey shrieked.

A nightmare or an intruder?

He flung off the blanket and rushed down the hall, ready to battle whoever or whatever had frightened her.

Chapter Four

Nick threw open the bedroom door, only to find Hailey sitting upright in bed.

Alone.

No intruder.

A candle flickered on the dresser, bathing the room in soft, muted light. And the scent of lilac and lavender filled the air.

She wore a white satin nightgown with tiny straps that outlined near-perfect breasts. Her hair, rumpled from sleep, tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. She looked ready to cry.

And in need of comfort.

Don’t get too close, the rebel in him warned. What the hell do you know about comforting women? Turn around and go back into the living room.

But the decent side of him stepped forward, leading him closer to the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I guess so.” A tear welled in her eye, then ran down her cheek. She swiped it away. “Did I scream?”