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She’d had ideas lately, but didn’t have an opportunity to share them. Her mother and Rachel returned, and then they were all called to the dinner table, where conversation was general. Her parents were excited about going to California to see Bailey graduate from USC. Bailey had been plagued again recently by a persistent journalist who wanted to write a follow-up article about her. Seth was clearly pissed about it; probably it didn’t sit well with him that he wouldn’t be there to protect her. To lighten the atmosphere, Eve told a few funny stories from her job, and Ben did the same. Rachel got brave enough to tell them about her kindergarten teacher and this boy in her class who was so wild, he liked to climb up on the table and dance and sometimes he’d start to take his clothes off. Ben cringed at hearing that one. He said something in passing that told her he was divorced. This was obviously his weekend with his daughter.
Eve kept having a feeling of unreality. Why hadn’t Bailey ever mentioned how absolutely gorgeous Seth’s partner was? Surely she wasn’t oblivious. And then there was the glint in his eyes that seemed to be only for her—Eve. As if he was attracted to her. The idea scared as much as tempted her. Men who looked like him were magnets for women. What were the odds he didn’t have a girlfriend—or a woman for every night of the week? Eve had never been loaded with confidence, and knew the last thing she needed was to get involved with a man unlikely to stay interested in her for long.
Oh, and she couldn’t forget he worked with Seth, her sister’s fiancé, which could make the whole thing awkward.
And, wow, was she overthinking this, or what? She’d have rolled her eyes if she could have done it unseen. What was she, twelve years old and signing her name “Eve Kemper” even though the boy hadn’t even asked her to dance yet?
Even so, she couldn’t take her gaze from the tall, sexy man currently smiling at his daughter as he tucked a napkin over her pretty pink shirt so she didn’t spill lemon meringue pie on it.
He won’t call.
But she wanted him to so much, the ache filled her chest. It didn’t help that tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. If he called tomorrow...that might be better than a bouquet.
Not until she was fastening her seat belt preparatory to leaving did it occur to her that she had scarcely noticed Seth tonight, and had felt not the slightest pang when she saw the way he looked at Bailey.
Heaven help her, she’d gotten over any remnants of her crush on Seth Chandler the moment she set eyes on his partner.
CHAPTER TWO (#u78fc7dfb-f7bc-5eff-8c94-26eb293074d5)
RACHEL HAD FUN sledding the next day—for all of about five minutes. No, that was an exaggeration, but not by much. She got cold and whined. She insisted on trying to go down a short hill on her own and fell off the sled, landing face-first in a snowbank. She cried so hard Ben was frantic, sure she’d broken a bone at least. God! Nicole would never let him hear the last of it.
Eventually, Rach settled down enough to admit she’d just been scared, and her mittens were soaked and she’d gotten snow in her boots so her toes were cold, and couldn’t they go home?
Disappointed, Ben said, “Sure,” then struggled with incredulity when not ten minutes down the highway, Rachel declared, “That was fun, Daddy! Can we go again?”
What was he supposed to say? You’ve got to be kidding? An hour’s round-trip drive for five minutes of fun and ten minutes of squalling? Maybe Nicole was right and he didn’t have what it took to be an adequate parent.
But he remembered being a lot more patient than Nicole was the first months of Rachel’s life, when she’d been colicky and content only when being carried against a shoulder. He’d walked miles those nights, gone into work feeling hollow with his eyes burning.
He was just...getting out of practice, that was all. It scared him sometimes, wondering whether his relationship with his daughter would grow increasingly distant with him such a small part of her life.
And what if Nicole remarried, giving Rach a resident daddy? Forcing him to see the woman he’d loved since they were in high school leaning against another man, her smile showing how happy he was making her.
Ben’s stomach clenched at the picture in his head. He knew she was dating; Rachel had said things, and it didn’t seem to occur to Nic that he’d mind. Or that he sometimes imagined—
He cut himself off. He was being stupid. He’d had her, and lost her. He had to get over thinking she’d ever give him another chance.
Since the divorce, he’d taken other women out, even slept with a couple of them. He’d half hoped Nic would hear through the grapevine. If she had, she didn’t care. The past few months, Ben had quit bothering with other women. If she knew that, Nicole didn’t react.
Maybe it was time he asked a woman out because he wanted to. Because he thought he might enjoy her. And, yeah, because his body stirred at the idea of getting naked with her.
By the time he dropped Rachel off on Sunday, he was cursing himself for not finding an opportunity to have asked Eve for her phone number. He called information from his cell phone and was told there was no listing for an Eve Lawson. Probably not a surprise, given her profession—and she likely didn’t even have a landline. He kept his number and address unlisted, too, as did most cops. Of course, he had better resources on the job—but getting a date wasn’t an acceptable reason to use them.
He could call her parents or ask Seth, but didn’t like the idea of setting himself up for humiliation if she turned him down. She’d have voice mail at the local DSHS office...but, man, that wasn’t any way to ask a woman out.
Ben usually carried his own cell phone all the time, but Seth had a tendency to lay his on his desk and leave it when he got coffee or used the john. Monday, Ben bided his time.
“Damn, too much coffee,” Seth grumbled at last, and ambled out.
Ben went to his partner’s desk and half sat on it, waiting until nobody in the bull pen was watching him, then casually reached for the phone, hoping it wasn’t password-protected. Quick, quick. Contacts...what if Seth hadn’t kept Eve’s listing? But why wouldn’t he, when she was Bailey’s sister?
Yes! There it was. Ben committed the number to memory and set the phone down as casually as he’d picked it up, then wandered over to refill his own coffee cup.
Should he call her in the middle of the day, or wait until evening? Evening, he decided. He didn’t want to catch her at a bad moment.
His apartment always felt especially empty and cheerless after he’d had Rachel. He kept thinking he should do something to make the spare bedroom more hers, but he occasionally considered buying a house and hated to waste a lot of effort on a cookie-cutter apartment. After walking in the door at almost seven that evening, he went straight to the kitchen and turned on the oven, then took a pizza from the freezer. He ought to add a vegetable, but decided “ought to” wasn’t enough motivation.
Finally, he took out his phone. Called up Eve’s number, waited as it rang. Once, twice, three times. His tension rose. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Seth if she had a boyfriend? Four.
On the fifth ring, she answered. Her “Hello?” sounded breathless.
“Eve? This is Ben Kemper. We met at Seth’s the other day.”
Silence was his immediate answer. “Ben,” she said finally, sounding cautious. “With the cute little girl. Did she have fun sledding?”
“She got cold really fast. She claimed to have fun, but I don’t know.”
“That’s too bad. I remember the first time I had a chance to go. It was the most fun I’d ever had.”
“Was it the Lawsons who took you?”
“Yes. I mean, before that I tried sliding on cardboard a few times—” She broke off. “I was older than your daughter, though. I mean, when Mom and Dad took me.”
She was adopted. He knew that much, but nothing about the years that came before. Years that might explain why she’d chosen the work she did.
“I’ll try again,” he said. “With Rachel, that is. Maybe buy her some better winter boots and mittens she can leave here.”
“Good idea, except she’ll outgrow them fast.”
Time for a segue into the reason for his call. “Eve, I’m hoping you’ll let me take you to dinner one of these nights.”
Waiting through the ensuing silence, Ben felt about sixteen, asking out the girl he’d had a crush on for the past year. No, longer than that—since middle school. He felt light-headed and realized he was holding his breath. Stupid. It wasn’t as if this mattered so much. It was maybe a little more awkward than usual, because of Eve’s relationship to Seth and Bailey, but—
“I’d like that,” she said simply.
Yes! “I’m free any night,” he admitted. That was him, man about town. “But we can wait until the weekend if that would be better for you.”
“No, as long as I don’t stay out late, a weeknight is fine.”
He wished it wasn’t too late for tonight. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is good.” Did she sound bemused?
Stimson didn’t have a lot of fine dining, but he didn’t want to suggest they drive any distance given that they both probably had to get up early the next morning. “Any chance you like Thai?” he asked.
She did. There might not be a decent Italian restaurant in town, but the Thai one was good. She gave him her address, and they agreed on six. “Just give me a call if you have to be late,” she said, surprising him with her understanding until he remembered she’d dated Seth.
Damn it, had she slept with Seth? Man, he hoped not. Not only for his sake, he realized, but also for Eve’s and Bailey’s.
He leaned back in his chair, suppressing a grin. He had a date.
* * *
“I ALMOST CALLED you today,” Eve confessed the next evening to Ben. The host, whose English was poor to nonexistent, had seated them in a booth, handed them menus and backed away. Eve didn’t reach for hers.
Neither did Ben. His mouth kicked up at one corner. “Because you couldn’t wait for this evening?”
She huffed, which had him smiling. “Seriously. Something happened today involving one of my kids.”
“Your kids?” He looked startled.
Despite her worry about Joel, Eve giggled at Ben’s expression. “Not literally! I’m sorry. I think of them that way. The kids I supervise.”
“I had this sudden picture of children packed into bunk beds behind closed doors in your apartment.” Amusement laced that slightly gritty voice. “You sternly telling them to hush until you and the nice man were gone.”
“Are you a nice man?” Lord, she was flirting. Where had her ambivalence gone?
“Of course I am.” Giving her a lazy, sexy grin, he nodded at her menu and picked up his own. “We should probably order before we delve into why you needed to call a detective about one of your kids.”
They both decided on jasmine tea and to share an order of spring rolls. He ordered a green curry with chicken, Eve a spicy eggplant in a chili paste.
“Trying to scare me off?” Ben asked drolly.
She blinked, and probably blushed. “Oh, dear. I didn’t think. It probably will, um, give me interesting breath.”
He only laughed, although his eyes were heavy-lidded. “Curry might not taste so good secondhand, either.”
Eve knew she was blushing now. He intended to kiss her. Thank heavens the lighting in here was dim and her skin didn’t show the warmth as obviously as someone much paler would.
“Your kid,” he prompted.
Kid? Then, embarrassed by what must be a blank expression, she said hurriedly, “His name is Joel Kekoa. His dad is Hawaiian and Joel looks it, too.”
“Wait. Does he play football?”
“Yes. You go to games?”
“Sometimes. He’s good.”
“So I’m told. I mean, I’ve seen him play, but I’m not a connoisseur. He’s a senior, and had the fun of being recruited by half a dozen major college programs.”
“Yeah? Which one did he pick?”
“The University of Oregon.”
Ben nodded, then waited for her to continue. He must know that grades weren’t the problem; she wouldn’t have been tempted to call him about anything like that.
So she explained about the grumpy old man next door to Joel’s foster home, and about the smashed rose canes. She surprised herself by also sharing her unease with the new foster mother and her son.
“Then I had a call in the middle of the night from a Deputy Pruitt.”
Ben nodded.
“Somebody threw a rock through the guy’s bedroom window. I guess it just missed him. It was big enough, it could have done some real damage. The deputy says it was thrown hard. It skipped off the bed and smashed into the closet door, scarring it. Mr. Rowe—that’s the neighbor—insists it had to be Joel who threw it. He’s big, athletic, has a good arm, and supposedly was mad because Mr. Rowe complained to the foster parents about the damage to his roses.”
“Was he?”
“No. He was more upset that the stepmom seemed to doubt him when he said he didn’t have anything to do with it.”
She felt—and sounded—troubled. She’d only talked to the deputy on the phone, not in person, but from his tone she’d suspected he was rolling his eyes at her defense of Joel, the obvious culprit.
Their spring rolls arrived, and she spooned dipping sauce to her small plate and took a roll, mumbling, “Ouch,” when she discovered how hot it still was.
Ignoring the food, Ben asked, “Did the kid get arrested?”
She gaped at him. “No! How could anybody prove he’d thrown the rock? There were no witnesses.”
Expression inscrutable, he didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Why me? This doesn’t sound like anything that would normally be referred to a detective.”
Was she imagining his restraint? Or was it that she’d imagined his sympathy the other night when she talked about the plight of foster children?
“Just...to get your take.” She shrugged. “I had the feeling the deputy instantly agreed Joel was guilty. Foster kid, minor feud going on between him and the neighbor.”
“Who do you think threw the rock?”
Annoyed now at his measured tone, she raised her eyebrows. “How would I know? From what Joel said about the neighbor, he’s been at war with every kid that ever walked past his place. Never mind the adults. The last time I was over there, Joel and I were talking at my car, and Mr. Rowe was watching us out the window the whole time. Just a slit between drapes. You know.” For some reason, she didn’t tell him that Gavin had been doing the same, and more openly. She’d begun to regret ever mentioning the incident to Ben.
“Okay,” he said mildly. “I’d have thought you’d go to Seth. You’ve known him longer, and he’s going to be your brother-in-law.”
She made sure her tone was light. “It was impulse, that’s all.” Crazy to feel let down, disappointed because Ben didn’t jump immediately in on her side. “Don’t worry about it,” she added. “It was just that I had you on my mind after you called. If the impulse strikes again, I’ll call Seth. Family discount, right?”
“No.” Ben’s gaze held hers. “Call me, not Seth. Anytime. I mean that.”
Well. Eve had not a clue how to take this.
“You’re right. I probably am more sympathetic than Seth is. He’s good with kids but doesn’t have any of his own, and until Bailey had probably never given a thought to issues foster kids have.”
“And you have?”
“My ex was in foster care by the time I knew her.”
“A good one, I hope.”
“Her last one seemed like it. But sometimes I wondered—” He cut himself off, alarm flashing in those shadowed eyes. “Doesn’t matter,” he said after a minute.
Eve didn’t have any choice but to squelch her curiosity. Pretending she didn’t wish he’d finish that last thought, she said, “So you married your high school girlfriend?”
He seemed almost embarrassed to admit he had. They’d gone their separate ways after his first few months of college, but Eve had the impression that might not have been by his choice. He’d initially taken a job with the busier and more urban King County Sheriff’s Department, which surrounded Seattle, but had run into Nicole again at a party and immediately applied for a job locally.
