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He let out a harsh breath. Nic wouldn’t turn to him if she was facing life imprisonment. Far as he could tell, what she mostly felt was resentment because she was stuck dealing with him where Rachel was concerned. He was clearly alone in feeling any lingering...he didn’t want to call it love. Okay, then: fondness. Memory of what they’d shared. Regret.
A year and a half had passed since their split, and all he seemed to awaken in her these days was annoyance. No more delusions, he told himself.
It was good he had Eve on his mind. Complications or not, he’d definitely call her tonight.
CHAPTER THREE (#u78fc7dfb-f7bc-5eff-8c94-26eb293074d5)
HAVING SPOTTED BEN alone at a booth at the back of the diner, Eve waved off the hostess and hurried to join him. He had seen her immediately, and before she reached him slid out of the booth to stand. He’d probably put in as long a day as she had, but that didn’t keep him from looking sexy. The badge and weapon he wore added an element of danger to the rangy, broad-shouldered physique and fallen-angel face. She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Several women diners had turned their heads to stare.
“Eve.” It was as if no one else was there. “You’re wet.”
She surveyed him. “You’re not.”
“It wasn’t raining when I got here.”
“Well, it is now,” she said unnecessarily. She shed her raincoat with his help and laid it and her handbag on the bench seat, sliding in after them.
Ben resumed his seat, facing her. It wasn’t a surprise that he’d requested the booth in the back corner; Seth had always done that, too. Nor that Ben preferred to have his back to the wall and be able to sweep the entire room with an assessing gaze. It must be a cop thing, and was fine by her. She didn’t want to see anyone, and would be just as happy at the moment if no one she knew spotted her.
“Thank you for suggesting this. What a day.”
“Bad?” he asked. Although she suspected he remained aware on some level of every single person in the café, his gaze stayed intent on her alone. Did he know how seductive that was?
“No, just long.” Distressing, too. She hadn’t liked what she’d read between the lines at her last home visit and would need to reassess that placement. Sad to say, things like that weren’t out of the ordinary. She didn’t need to talk about it. “I hope you didn’t mind eating so late,” Eve added. She’d had to call him this afternoon and ask to push dinner back a couple of hours or do it another night.
“I had plenty to do.” This smile was humorless. “Filling a couple of hours is never a problem.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is. Bailey said you and Seth are working on that jewelry store robbery.”
“We are,” he agreed.
“But no arrests?”
“Unfortunately.” He hesitated. “Between you and me, we’re pretty sure we know who did it. Backing up our suspicions isn’t going as well.”
“I’m amazed you got that far,” she admitted. “With them wearing ski masks—” Seeing the way his gaze flicked past her, she turned her head to see the waitress approaching. “Oh, dear. I should decide what I want to eat, shouldn’t I?”
Having eaten here a few hundred times before, Eve barely had to open the menu. The salads were tasteless, so she mentally shrugged and went with a teriyaki chicken sandwich and fries. Ben ordered a burger and fries.
Once they were alone again, he told her a little more about the investigation and the people they’d talked to, mentioning the domestic abuse police reports and the missing girlfriend.
“She has a kid, too, so I can’t blame her for doing her best to disappear. It’s more of a surprise that women stick so long with a creep like that, especially when they have a child to think about.”
“Has Child Protective Services been involved?” Eve asked. “After a couple police visits, they might have been called to evaluate the safety of the child. If so, she may have thought she had to keep them informed about where she is.”
Expression arrested, Ben said, “I didn’t think of that. Good idea.”
Pleased, she nonetheless wrinkled her nose. “CPS, now, that’s a job I wouldn’t want. If I’m afraid of something bad happening because I let a child slip through the cracks, it’s a thousand times worse for them. Too often, they’re investigating really horrific situations. You know how hard it is to be sure you’re making the right call. More often than not, kids will deny abuse.”
“Because whatever family they have feels safer than unknown alternatives.”
She nodded, then smiled her thanks when the waitress brought drinks. “I’m glad you suggested this,” she said. “I don’t think I’d have been up to fine dining tonight.” She should have detoured to the restroom to brush her hair and fix her makeup, but there wasn’t a lot of point since she’d have had to walk right past him first, and he’d have gotten a good look at the real end-of-day Eve.
“You ever think about having a family of your own?” he asked. “It would be tough, putting in these kind of hours.”
The question sounded casual, but surprised her anyway. And—okay—made her feel a little giddy even though this was only a second date. Was he really asking whether she intended to have children?
No—wait. He might just be concerned about his daughter, assuming they were to get any more involved. Even so, that suggested he was thinking ahead, which was a good sign.
“Eventually, I would like to have a family,” she said. “And you’re right. When—if—that happens, I’d want to cut back to part-time or find an alternative. I know what it’s like not to be important to your own parents.” Hating the suddenly raw sound to her voice, seeing a shift in his expression, she gave a small shrug. “I think your Rachel is lucky. She seems so confident, and you’re good with her.”
His jaw tightened. “The divorce hit her hard.”
“Probably, but once she’s sure she can still count on both you and her mother, she’ll be fine.”
He looked hard at her. Didn’t he believe her? No—probably all he wanted to know was whether she was being sincere or was only trying to allay his worries.
Eve was glad that their food arrived before she felt compelled to start babbling. After spreading the napkin on her lap, she was tempted to change the subject altogether, but reminded herself he was the one to start talking about family and children.
“Do you miss her?” she asked.
His startled gaze flew to hers. “Nicole?” Then his expression was shuttered. “You mean Rachel. Yeah, I do. Every day. And Nicole...” He frowned and didn’t finish.
Eve knew better than to say anything.
“She keeps making plans on my weekend, figuring it won’t matter to anyone if we do a switch.”
“But it does.” A lump rose in Eve’s throat. “To you and Rachel both.”
Again he studied her with that unnerving intensity. “Why do you include Rachel? It’s always something fun Nicole has come up with. Another kid’s birthday party—and, no, I know she has no control over when Rachel’s friends schedule their parties. A play, a chance to go roller-skating. I sound like a jerk if I say no.”
“In the short term, Rachel wants to do something fun. But she also needs consistency. To be able to count on her time with you. Consistency, rules and routine form a...a foundation for kids. They need their parents to say, ‘This is how things will go,’ and stick to it.” She made a face. “And here’s the woman with no parenting experience lecturing you. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You do know what happens when things go wrong and how to turn them around for a kid. In comparison, I suspect most parents do nothing but bumble along, hoping they aren’t screwing up.”
Eve laughed. “That’s mostly what social workers do, too, you know.”
His swift grin chased the shadows from his eyes and made her heart squeeze. “Don’t disillusion me.”
“Okay.”
He took a big bite, and she followed suit. A minute later, he said, “It was the hours that did my marriage in.”
Eve frowned and set down her sandwich. “Really?”
“You sound surprised. You must have read that cops have a really high divorce rate.”
“Well, sure I have, but I doubt the hours you put in are the main reason.”
“Women get tired of not being able to count on their husband being home for dinner or special occasions. Nicole claimed she felt like a single parent anyway. I think it’s not so much the long hours as that they’re erratic.”
“So are mine!”
“And you’ve never had a guy you were seeing think you ought to put him first?”
“If a man so much as suggested I should ditch some child’s problem to be on time for our dinner date, I’m the one who’d lose interest,” she said with spirit. “The kids I was dealing with at the end of the day today—they had to come first, if only temporarily.”
“People don’t always get that.”
He meant his wife didn’t get that. “You were a deputy when you got married.”
Ben looked wary. “I was.”
“You must have dated for a while first. Maybe lived together?”
This so wasn’t her business, Eve realized belatedly, but the whole idea made her mad. Love shouldn’t be conditional. What good would it be, then? All too often, she saw the damage done to children because parents or teachers or foster parents couldn’t love or accept them with their flaws. And wasn’t this the same thing, in a way? Ben’s ex-wife had loved him...until an aspect of who he was irritated her.
“We might have gotten married too soon,” Ben said, sounding constrained. “I was the one to push for it. Once I saw her again...” He shrugged.
He didn’t have to finish. He’d known his Nicole was the one. That’s what he was thinking.
And Eve was painfully jealous. Her fault for pursuing the subject of his ex-wife, but maybe it was just as well to know up front how things stood. What were the odds he’d ever feel so much for another woman?
Bailey didn’t have to wonder; she’d seen the difference. For Seth, Bailey would be the one-and-only instead of the fill-in Ben was probably looking for.
Ignoring the tight feeling in her chest, as if her rib cage had shrunk, Eve made herself say, “What from I’ve read, cops have other issues that affect their marriages. Alcoholism, chronic anger that may have to do with PTSD, a controlling nature to start with, a tendency to shut down around anyone but coworkers, the necessity of living with the awful things you see.”
He let out a sound that he might have intended as a laugh, but lacked all humor. “Gee, thanks. I feel like a real prize now.”
Eve made an impatient gesture. “I’m not talking about you. At least, not from what I’ve seen so far. You have talked to me about what you’re working on. A little bit about frustrations and doubts. You listen to me. You don’t seem to be a heavy drinker—”
“I’m not.”
She nodded. “My point is, the fact that you work lousy hours shouldn’t be enough to end a marriage. You do an important job, one I assume you find fulfilling. What were you supposed to do, quit that job and start doing something you hate just so you could sit down for dinner at six o’clock every night?”
There was a silence long enough to give Eve the idea she’d gone somewhere she shouldn’t have. Oh, God. What was she thinking? Listening when a guy criticized his ex was fine if tiresome; jumping in feetfirst herself, not so smart.
“You’re saying that Nic drawing a line in the sand over the hours I worked was...a diversion.” Ben’s tone was flat. “No, an excuse.”
“I don’t know her at all.” Her embarrassment came out in awkwardness. Eve couldn’t make herself meet his eyes. “So, no, I’m not saying that. There’s no reason you’d tell me the problems you had in your marriage. It’s just...” Oh, great, she couldn’t stop while she was ahead! Now what?
“It’s just?” He had plainly lost interest in his dinner. And probably her, too.
Well, so be it, she thought in defiance.
So she finished what she’d meant to say. “If a couple isn’t going to stick together, especially when they have kids, the problems should be deep and wide, not...not something trivial.”
“Trivial,” he repeated.
What was that saying? In for a penny?
“Marriages succeed even when one spouse is deployed for six months out of every year. Being late to dinner on a regular basis because you’re dealing with the tragedies other people suffer? That’s nothing.”
His face had become unreadable. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d moved. He didn’t want to give anything away, which most likely meant she’d hurt him.
And, gee, why would that be? Because, knowing absolutely nothing about his marriage beyond his casual mention that the hours he’d worked had been a problem, she’d decided—and told him—his wife must not really have loved him. Alternative: he’d taken her little speech to mean he must have problems that had impacted his marriage.
Way to go, Eve. She’d become a self-righteous know-it-all. What a shock no guy had yet fallen to his knees in front of her to declare she was the one for him!
She stared down at her plate, uncomfortably aware she probably looked like a turtle trying to shrink into its shell. Her cheeks heated until they must be flaming red. Ben didn’t say a word.
Finally she couldn’t let the silence go on. She took a deep breath and raised her chin, to find him still inspecting her, as if deciding whether she was a poisonous kind of spider he should crush or a garden-variety kind he might let crawl off and hide in a crack.
“I need to go,” she said, snatching up her napkin and dropping it on the table and then grabbing coat and handbag. Even as she slid out of the booth, she added, “I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
At last, his expression changed. “Eve. What are you...?”
“Good night.” And she fled, walking faster and faster until she was nearly running once she made it outside.
For no reason. When she reached her car, parked half a block away, and looked back, she saw that Ben hadn’t followed her.
And why would he?
* * *
WHAT THE HELL?
Stunned, Ben watched Eve hurry away without once looking back. He’d reacted slowly enough, he had barely gotten to his feet when the restaurant door swung closed behind her. Even if he thought he could catch her, he couldn’t leave without paying since the bill Eve had dropped on the table wouldn’t cover the total.
At last he slid back into the booth, where his remaining French fries didn’t look all that appealing anymore. Eve had hardly touched her meal.
How had their dinner date blown up in his face so fast? So, okay, he hadn’t liked Eve’s analysis of his breakup with Nicole, even if she’d been coming out strongly in his favor. Maybe it was habit, too many years of leaping automatically to defend Nic, but at least he hadn’t argued. In fact, he’d have sworn he’d locked down his emotions. On the job, he had plenty of practice at that. But, obviously, Eve had seen enough on his face to send her running. That made him feel like shit, even if he was still roiling inside over what she’d had to say.
Your wife didn’t love you or she’d have understood you’re doing the job you need to do. That’s what Eve had been trying to make him see.
Great guy that he was, he’d wanted to slam her for it.
Frowning into space, he brooded over his own irrationality. A beautiful woman had tried to tell him the divorce wasn’t his fault. She’d even made it sound as if she thought law enforcement was a calling, that he accomplished something noble. And him, he’d been furious because she implied that Nicole had been—was—shallow.
Or did this tightness in his chest have another cause? Maybe he couldn’t deal with the possibility that Nic never really had loved him.
No point in wasting time thinking about that anyway. What difference did it make now? The divorce had been signed, sealed and delivered over a year ago.
Except, if it didn’t matter, why was he so bothered? Ben rubbed his breastbone with the heel of his hand. Easy answer: no man liked thinking he’d been a fool.
Maybe his hesitation where Eve was concerned had been right on. He could call, apologize for whatever he’d done that had upset her and consider himself lucky they hadn’t gotten in any deeper before the crash. Because, damn, did he want to be psychoanalyzed every time they went out?
He made a sound. Yep, like Eve would agree to another fun evening with him.
