“She’s beautiful,” I said honestly. “She reminds me of you when we were little.” I felt another stab of guilt as I handed him back the picture.
“Thanks. I pray she has a better experience growing up than I did. When I was at my lowest, my mom assured me I had the best friends in the world. The only problem, she explained, was I hadn’t met them yet. I never believed her at the time but, fortunately, she ended up being right.”
His words felt like the slap in the face I knew I deserved. I changed the subject slightly. “I guess your wife is home with her?”
He took his left hand off the steering wheel for a second and flexed his fingers. He let out a deep sigh. “No, Clara’s with a babysitter. My wife passed away two years ago.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. Caroline was diagnosed a couple of days after Clara’s first birthday. She was a fighter, but…” He let out a deep, ragged breath. “It’s been a rough few years.”
“I’m sure. I can’t even imagine. Is that why you transferred to the village?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I hated being far away from Clara when she got sick or hurt. But more than that, I knew I couldn’t continue to put myself in harm’s way like I used to.” Without taking his eyes off the road, he untucked his dress shirt and lifted it slightly. In the dim light of the car, I could just make out a bright red and bumpy scar on his right side. “I was shot on the job.”
I couldn’t help but gasp.
“NYPD isn’t an easy gig. I was a rookie, and we were called to a domestic disturbance. When we got there, the woman was in horrible shape. The boyfriend, who was high as a kite, had beaten her to a bloody pulp. He didn’t appreciate our interference. As soon as he opened the door, he pulled a gun on us. I was lucky. The bullet only grazed me. My partner”—he wiped his eyes—“he didn’t make it.”
My heartbeat quickened when I realized he was crying. There was something so intimate about seeing a man shed a tear. I was shocked he expressed such deep emotion in front of me, and incredibly turned on at the same time. I inched closer, wanting to wrap him in my arms, which I knew wasn’t appropriate. Instead, I squeezed his arm. “Oh Peter.”
I couldn’t help but remember his intense reaction the night he pulled me over when I had reached into my backseat for a raincoat. At the time, I thought he was being overly dramatic. I never stopped to consider that he had once been on the other end of a gun with such disastrous consequences or had experienced so much pain in his lifetime.
He cleared his throat. “I’d like to say that night was the only time I was hurt, but it wasn’t. After Caroline died, I knew I couldn’t stay in the city. Clara already lost one parent. I couldn’t risk my daughter becoming an orphan. I considered leaving the force altogether, but I wasn’t qualified for much else. I thought about going back to school, but I already had my hands full with Clara who was so young. I couldn’t pile any more on my plate. Fortunately, one of the village’s officers retired, and a friend recommended me. I filled the vacancy.”
“You got lucky,” I said as he pulled into my driveway. I was shocked at how quickly the ride had passed.
He gave me a quizzical glance. “That’s one way to look at it, I guess.”
Crap! What is wrong with me? Why can’t I say anything to this man without sounding callous or obnoxious?
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I tried to defend myself.
“It’s okay, Waverly. I know.”
“I just—”
He put the car in park and turned to me. “Please. It’s fine. You’ve had a rough night. If you’re still in pain tomorrow, you should probably get an x-ray.” He opened his door and walked to the passenger side. He reached for my hand and helped me out of the car and, once again, carried me into my house.A girl could get used to traveling in those capable arms…
I unlocked the front door and he put me down inside. I stood in my hallway with all my weight resting on my good foot and looked at him, really looked at him. “Thank you,” I said as I fought back tears, which had nothing to do with the throbbing pain I felt in my ankle. I ran my hand down his cheek. “You are really one of the good ones, Pete.” Then on impulse, I leaned over and gave him a small, quick kiss on the lips. I intended for it to be a little peck, but then I went a tad overboard. At first Pete seemed to welcome it, but before my arm could reach behind his neck, he jerked back and held up both hands.
I felt like a deer caught in headlights as I met his eyes. I searched for a clue as to what he felt but came up blank. I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” I said as my hand brushed my lips.
“Don’t be,” he said politely but without any emotion. Then he looked at his watch. Although it was not even ten o’clock, he said, “It’s late. I should go. Have a good night.”
“You, too,” I said automatically, and then, “Pete, wait,” as he opened my screen door.
He stopped and turned around.
I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I really enjoyed talking and spending time with you tonight. I would love to get to know you better. Maybe we can get together one night and catch up properly?”
“No.”
It was amazing how devastating a two-letter word could be.
13
I hobbledinto Sydney’s office on Monday morning and closed the door behind me.
