Page 25 of Her Secret Wish

Laughing, she reclined back onto the bed, wondering if it was too late for him to come over. “Well, it’s not teasing if there’s follow-through, right?”

Again, silence drew out and she wondered if she’d gone too far. “It’s teasing if it can’t be acted upon for the foreseeable future. I have an early shift tomorrow.”

Moaning, she sat up against the headboard. “Okay. I guess I’ll be good.”

Dean laughed on the other end of the line, a full-throated, deep chuckle. “I guess somebody is feeling better today.”

“I am, definitely.”

Yes, the stitches still itched like a bitch and a half, but the skin beneath them was healing. She would give them two more days before they got pulled. The contusions around the gash on her face were beginning to yellow out as well. A few more days and it wouldn’t even be visible. And today had been the first day she hadn’t noticed the bruises on her calf aching with every step. The only thing she had noticed was some tenderness down below. When they’d made love she’d started using muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time. Things were a bit sore, but there was a satisfaction in using those muscles again.

“Why don’t you come over after your shift? I’ll throw together something for dinner.” Rachel cringed, wondering what kind of microwave dinners he would eat.

Dean seemed a little surprised too. “Okay,” he drawled. “I’ll be over after I stop at my apartment and change. Want me to bring a movie or something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

The conversation began to dwindle but neither one seemed willing to hang up. Finally, frustrated with all of these too-girly emotions swirling around her, Rachel told him goodnight and hung up the phone.

Just a few minutes later she was sound asleep.

***

For Dean, earlySunday shift was one of the best to work. Ninety percent of the people in Denver were either sleeping in or attending church. The other ten percent were heading for their favorite hiking trails. It was going to be a beautiful day today and the outdoors were calling. If he weren’t working it was where he would be as well.

Because it was so quiet, though, the hours dragged on. He looked for traffic violations but didn’t find many. No alarm checks, no welfare checks. Nothing happened until an hour before his shift ended. Then he and another car were dispatched for a hit and run multi-car pile-up. Tapping out a quick message he told Rachel he would be as quick as possible, then ran hot to the scene.

Chapter Eleven

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Rachel looked atthe message in consternation. Figures. She’d been counting down the hours until she could see him again and their date was delayed. No, it wasn’t the fault of the people who crashed, and she would never think such things, but it was still disappointing. Grabbing her iPad she plugged in her headphones. Maybe she could lose herself in music. Or games. Candy Crush Saga had her at a standstill. Maybe if she spent enough money on boosters she could get past the hurdle and move on.

It was three hours later before she heard a knock on her door. Trying to control the excited leap of her heart she crossed the room and swung open the door. Dean stood there, a smile on his face.

Something was off, though, she could tell.

“Come on in,” she urged him.

Dean leaned down to press a kiss to her lips before he even stepped over the threshold. Rachel cupped his head in her hands and tried to be what he needed, because there was something off about his kiss as well. She pulled back, concerned. “Are you okay?”

He blinked down at her, his blue eyes dull. Rachel suddenly realized what it was rattling her senses. He looked like the guys she’d flown into Afghanistan time after time, ready to do the job, but emotionally detached. Those men had seen too much in their very young lives and she would remember the look for as long as she lived. If she dared look in the mirror, she would probably see the same expression on her own face.

Dean didn’t need sex or food, he needed a non-judgmental ear and a warm shoulder next to his own. Tugging him into the room, Rachel nudged him toward the couch. Dean dropped his nylon uniform bag on the chair then followed her willingly and collapsed onto the cushions. Rachel plopped down beside him, hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder.

“How was your shift?” she asked, going straight to the issue.

Dean winced and looked away. “It was great for a while. Totally quiet.”

“The message said you had a hit and run to deal with?”

He nodded, running his hand through his thick blond hair, making it stick up in spikes. “Yeah. It was bad. One of the worst I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Why was this one so bad?” she asked.

He hesitated for a long time but she didn’t push him to answer. Reaching out she curled her fingers into his. His grip tightened until her fingers ached.

“One of the victims was just a little kid. Five years old. So tiny on her little pink bike. I think she was gone almost instantly. Her older brother is in critical condition although he’s expected to survive. The car that hit them then veered into oncoming traffic and hit four cars before his vehicle was so damaged it wouldn’t move anymore. Then he still wouldn’t get out of the car.” He gave her a chagrined look. “I actually enjoyed dragging his ass out of the wreckage and onto the pavement. Stupid shit. He was laughing when we took him down. Thought the whole deal was funny.”

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