Perfect Fit (Serendipity's Finest)

Three



Later that day, Cara pulled into Havensbridge, a women’s shelter located twenty minutes from Serendipity, situated on an unpaved street almost hidden by trees. The house was immense, with a multitude of bedrooms, and had been left to Belinda Vanderbilt, a distant cousin of the Vanderbilts, many times removed. Belinda, now forty-two, had the good luck to have been born into money and the bad luck to have chosen the wrong man. After nearly losing her life at his hand, she’d run from her New York City luxury apartment and settled into the estate left to her by her great-aunt. After she’d been forced to shoot her ex-husband before he beat her to death, she decided no other woman should have to suffer the way she had.

Belinda turned her estate into a haven for abused women, and often their children, providing them with safe shelter and helping them get strong enough to survive on their own. She’d even gotten a degree in psychology so she could, along with trusted friends in the profession, provide counseling and care without alerting outsiders. The shelter had been in business for ten years.

Cara had been volunteering for the last two, her reasons for helping out here the same as the reasons she became a cop. She wanted the chance to make a difference in people’s lives. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to tell her she was overcompensating for not being able to change her mother’s life. But Cara loved both her job and her work at Havensbridge and the women she met there.

Cara parked and headed for the front door, where she was greeted by Jane Baker, a corrections officer, who also volunteered here in her spare time. Cara’s duties alternated between spending time with the women she’d referred or met here and guard duty, as Jane was doing tonight. Cara preferred one-on-one time with the women but was happy to stand in when they were short on security. Tonight she planned a short visit before meeting Alexa and her work friends at Joe’s for drinks.

She paused to talk to Jane for a few minutes, then headed for the kitchen. Inside the large, homey-looking room, Cara found the person she’d come to see. Daniella was by herself preparing dinner.

“Hi,” Cara said, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi!” The younger woman’s sky-blue eyes lit up as she met Cara’s gaze. “You came!”

“I said I would.” Cara hopped up onto a stool near where Daniella was chopping peppers. “Where is everyone?” Cara knew the house had a few other women living there too.

“Lindsay’s throwing her wash into the dryer, and Darla had a headache, so she’s lying down. I hope I’m not taking you away from anything important,” Daniella said, as she always did when Cara came over. She glanced at Cara with a shy smile.

“Nope. No place else to be,” Cara said, and she picked up a knife and started helping Daniella by cleaning and cutting up carrots for the stir-fry she was obviously making.

For just this reason, Cara hadn’t changed into the dressier clothes she’d wear later to Joe’s. She wanted Daniella to believe she had no place better to be. And the truth was, Cara wasn’t in any rush. As long as Daniella wanted to talk or needed an ear.

“How have you been the last few days?” Cara asked as she sliced.

Daniella had been there for only a week, and she was very much a work in progress—someone who intuitively knew she had to get out of an abusive situation but had a hard time believing that the emotional and verbal harm her ex-boyfriend inflicted would escalate into physical violence. It was often hardest to convince women that words and emotional battering did as much damage as a fist, or more.

“Not bad. It’s hard being cut off from everyone back home, though.” Daniella glanced at Cara, her long brown hair obscuring the side of her face.

“You haven’t called anyone, have you?” Cara asked, aware of the catch in the other woman’s voice.

“No. But I’ve thought about it,” she admitted, dropping her knife to the counter.

Cara placed her hand over Daniella’s. “It’s hard in the beginning. All the women who’ve been here say the same thing, but once you make a plan, once you start looking forward to a healthy future, it’s going to be worth it.”

She blew out a shaky breath. “I hope so.”

“I know so. What are you thinking? Have you and Belinda talked about possibilities?” Cara asked.

Daniella nodded. “I still have my paralegal license, but I haven’t worked in two years.”

No, as Cara knew, she’d stayed home because her boyfriend wanted her at his beck and call, and at first things had been great. She’d felt needed and wanted. Then slowly he’d begun isolating her from not just old coworkers, but friends, then family. Once he was the sole person in her life, his anger at little things showed itself more often. Which was how Cara met her the first time, after the neighbors called about the noise next door. Ultimately, after her now-ex raised his hand and slapped her once, Cara persuaded her to leave. But Daniella wasn’t sure of her decision because she was so fragile and alone.

“All you need to do is brush up on your skills, maybe take a refresher course. Belinda has contacts everywhere. You can move out of state—”

“But my family is here,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Cara drew a deep breath, understanding the need to be around family and friends. “I was going to say, or you can take out the restraining order you haven’t wanted to get and look for a more local job. Nothing too close to your ex, but somewhere nearby.” She squeezed the other woman’s hand. “The good news is you don’t need to make any decisions right now.”

“I know. But I’m not smart enough to—”

“Hey! None of that,” Cara said, more harshly than she meant to. Nothing angered her more than the insidious way some men managed to invade a woman’s mind and mess with her self-esteem.

Was it personal for her? Yes. Her own father had done his share of that both to her and to Cara’s mother, using his drinking as an excuse. Cara had learned early how to stay out of the house for as long as possible, getting involved in sports and after-school activities. When she wasn’t doing school-related things, she’d hide out at her friend Melissa’s house. Luckily for her, Melissa’s mom didn’t mind. But Cara hated leaving her own mom at home, and as a teen she’d been overwhelmed with guilt for all the hours she spent out of the house. As an adult, Cara understood that her mother made her own decisions—but understanding and accepting were two different things. In other words, the guilt remained. Melissa, meanwhile, had moved out of state, but they’d stayed in touch.

Forcing herself to focus on Daniella, Cara deliberately softened her expression and her tone. “What did the therapist tell you to do when Bob’s voice gets into your head?”

“Positive affirmations. I’m a smart, capable woman,” Daniella said, not sounding as if she believed it.

Cara nodded. “Exactly. Just keep repeating that to yourself, because it’s true.”

“Sorry I took so long!” A petite redhead interrupted the awkward moment as she joined them in the kitchen. “I had so many things to fold. But I’m back!”

“Hi, Lindsay,” Cara said, greeting the other woman with a smile.

“Hi, Cara. What’s shaking?”

“Not much. You?”

“I have a job interview tomorrow,” Lindsay said, beaming with excitement.

“Fantastic! Congratulations.”

The young woman was a bundle of positive energy these days, and Cara hoped her enthusiasm for life and change would rub off on Daniella. Cara truly worried that Daniella’s depression would lead her straight back to her ex, something she didn’t want to see happen.

“Thanks. Are you staying for dinner?” Lindsay asked.

Cara shook her head. Now that Daniella had company, Cara decided it was the perfect time to leave. “I can’t tonight, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Cara. I mean it,” Daniella said.

“And I meant what I said. You’re amazing. Remember that.” She hugged Daniella and then Lindsay, who vibrated with excitement over her upcoming interview.

She’d make a quick stop at her place to change clothes and head on over to Joe’s. After being with Daniella, Cara was in the dumps and needed something to change her mood. Maybe some good old-fashioned dancing and a couple of drinks would do the trick.

Déjà vu was a potent aphrodisiac, Mike thought as he entered Joe’s Bar. The music, something he still wasn’t used to, vibrated around him, the dance floor already full. Normally he’d be meeting up with his brother, but with Sam out of commission, Mike was here alone. He could have called up an old friend or two with whom he’d reconnected since his return, but he wasn’t in the mood for idle talk.

He was in a mood, and it wasn’t a good one. He hadn’t wanted to go upstairs to the tiny apartment and stare at the four walls or the TV while he was still mulling over all he’d learned from Sam and Cara about the mayor’s investigation. Until he knew what they’d find out about Rex or Simon, he couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around the possible implications. No matter what, he and Cara would have to proceed with caution and keep things low-key. Something he’d have to discuss with her. But for tonight, he needed downtime.

So here he was, at Joe’s Bar, where instead of peace he found himself remembering a hot night with a beautiful woman he couldn’t have again.

Swell.

He headed straight for the bar, figuring if nothing else he could shoot the shit with Joe. As he approached, he was surprised to find Cara sitting alone, staring into her almost-empty cocktail glass, probably waiting for friends.

Every instinct inside him screamed at him to turn around and head on upstairs and away from temptation. Ever the risk taker, Mike continued toward her only to realize the guy to her left was making a play, something that seemed to happen to Cara regularly, and Mike didn’t want to examine the feeling gnawing at him too closely.

He’d placed an arm behind her chair and sidled up close. Mike’s stomach twisted with what he would have liked to think was hunger. He knew better and didn’t like the possessive feeling one bit. The knowledge that she could get to him on any level filled him with frustration.

The guy leaned in and whispered in Cara’s ear.

She immediately stiffened and pushed her chair back to get away from him. “What part of get lost don’t you understand?” she asked the man Mike didn’t recognize.

The rejection was all Mike needed to see in order to ease the painful cramping in his gut.

“I just want to buy you a drink, sweet thing.” The other man smiled, more than a hint of arrogance in his grin.

Cara cocked her head to one side. “I already said no thank you twice. Get lost or I’ll show you I’m nobody’s sweet thing.”

Mike stifled a laugh. She hadn’t realized he was watching, and he wasn’t ready to call attention to himself just yet. Cara was a handful on a good day. She could more than take care of herself, something he definitely admired about her.

She was off duty, but like him, he’d lay odds she carried a piece somewhere on her. The night they’d spent together, they’d each had to unstrap their guns before things got going.

The persistent guy still looked at Cara as if trying to determine whether she was serious or playing hard to get. Given the swing of her leg, encased in steel-toed cowboy boots, the man really ought to take a hint.

Before she could kick him in the nuts, Mike decided to step in. “The lady is with me. Take a hike.” Mike came up beside Cara on her free side, deliberately looming large and close.

She glanced up at him in surprise.

“I’m not poaching on your woman, Chief,” the man said, obviously recognizing Mike. “She didn’t say she was taken.”

“But she did say no,” Cara muttered. With a scowl, the other man left. “Idiot.”

“You can say that again. Waiting for friends?” Mike asked.

She shook her head. That she was alone surprised him. Unlike Mike, Cara was a people person.

“Alexa had an emergency and I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.” She gestured to a table where a group of people from the station were hanging out. “What about you?” she asked, as she finished her drink.

“Same. Sam’s out of commission and I wasn’t in the mood for people either.” He hooked his leg around a suddenly free bar stool and settled in beside her. “What are you drinking?”

“A Manhattan.”

He cocked an eyebrow. Strong with a hint of sweetness, just like her, though he opted not to point that out. Instead he gestured to Joe to refill Cara’s drink and give him his usual. “So what’s got you needing a strong drink?”

Cara pivoted in her chair until their knees touched. “What is this?” She pointed back and forth between them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me. You. Real conversation. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She settled her blue eyes on him as she turned the tables.

He’d prodded her much the same way when he’d shown up at her house to visit his brother, so maybe he deserved it, Mike thought. He hadn’t exactly been a decent guy since his return.

“Since we have to work closely together now, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” He didn’t want to give away too much of what he was feeling. Hell, he couldn’t define it for himself, let alone verbalize his emotions.

She narrowed her gaze, studying him. “I suppose.”

“Here you go. A Manhattan for you.” Joe placed a new cocktail glass in front of Cara. “And a whiskey neat for the chief,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks,” Mike said.

“How’s Annie doing?” Cara asked Joe.

The bartender’s eyes lit up at the mention of his fiancée. “She’s great. We’re great. You got the wedding invitation, right?” he asked.

She smiled brightly. “You bet. I RSVP’d right away.”

Mike merely nodded.

Joe waved in dismissal. “I don’t pay attention to things like that. Who’s coming is Annie’s job. I just want to marry the woman.”

Cara’s pleased laugh expressed how she felt about that sentiment. “Well, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“And not a minute too soon,” Joe said.

A happy couple, Mike thought, and took a drink, enjoying the first burn as the liquor slid down his throat.

“I knew you two would be good for each other.” Cara smiled, and warmth seeped through Mike’s veins.

He tried to tell himself it was the alcohol hitting his system and not her megawatt grin.

“Is Annie feeling well too?” Cara asked.

“No MS episodes for a while now,” Joe said, then glanced toward the sound of his name. “Gotta go. I’m being summoned at the other end of the bar.”

“Put it all on my tab,” Mike called out to the bartender before he made his escape.

“That’s not necessary,” Cara said.

He’d expected her protest. “Maybe not, but I’m doing it anyway.”

She shrugged. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing the subject back to where they were before Joe had interrupted.

She frowned at him, and he discovered—or should he say rediscovered—her dimples. “I had a rough day.” She took a long sip of her drink. “No, that’s wrong. I have it good. Someone else is going through a bad time.”

The pain in her voice bothered him. “Anyone I know?”

She shook her head. “I volunteer at Havensbridge.”

“The women’s shelter.” At her surprised look, he said, “I know we refer domestic violence victims there.”

“One of the women…she’s so demoralized, and I’m afraid she won’t hold out long enough to get help, that she’ll go back to her ex.”

He met her gaze. “You can’t make her choices for her.” Despite knowing better, he placed his hand over hers on the bar.

Cara visibly stiffened, but he didn’t remove his hand. “All you can do is give her your advice.”

“Sometimes words aren’t enough. I ought to know.”

It was a small enough town that Mike knew that her parents didn’t have the best marriage. Her father wasn’t the nicest person around, especially when he’d been drinking. What Mike didn’t know was whether Cara had ever been on the receiving end of his abuse. The thought made Mike want to hit something or someone himself.

“Cara?”

“Hmm?”

He wanted to ask if her father had ever hurt her. More, he wanted to protect her from anyone else harming her either. But she didn’t need his help any more than Mike knew what to do with these crazy feelings she inspired.

“Do you want to dance?” he heard himself ask instead. Not bright, buddy, Mike thought to himself.

She paused a beat before answering. “Why not,” she said at last.

They wound their way through the morass of people and onto the crowded dance floor, the jukebox playing Adele. No sooner had they reached a comfortable spot than another slow, crooning song came on, and Mike had to wonder why the universe liked to toy with him this way. Still, he’d asked her to dance, and Lord knew he wanted her in his arms, so he held out his hand.

She placed her smaller palm in his.

He thought he’d been prepared for the crackle of electricity, but the zing that went through him was stronger than he’d remembered or anticipated. He pulled her into his embrace, hoping like hell he could control his body’s reaction because in this tight space, with her flush against him, there was no way she wouldn’t notice.

She got to him.

Cara didn’t talk, and neither did he. Somehow the ease with which she fit into his arms and the relaxed way they swayed to the music spoke for them.

He ought to feel that uncomfortable itching sensation now, like the one he’d always used to experience when Tiffany tried to make plans in advance, or like the one he got when he approached his parents’ house and he felt like home and expectations were closing in on him. Yet he experienced none of those things, only the feeling of comfort along with the ever-present arousal she inspired.

Cara sighed then. A small sound shuddered through her body and as she laid her head against his chest, something he’d been holding tight inside him seemed to ease. Her hair smelled fruity and delicious, and déjà vu returned full force.

Last time, she’d been as eager to leave the bar as he. As willing to indulge in hot, needy sex without discussion or questions of what the act might mean. And she’d satisfied the needs not just of his body but of something more. So much so that he hadn’t slept with a woman since. He’d tried not to think about that, but now he couldn’t focus on anything else. He had the one woman he wanted in his arms. Again.

He wondered what she’d say to picking up where they’d left off. A no-strings affair, one with a definite ending when he left town. But Cara knew that about him already. She’d said as much herself, and though her jab about knowing not to expect much from him grated, it was the truth.

The one thing he didn’t question was his sudden turnaround. It was as clear as his need for her and his admission that for now, no one else would do.

Cara had lost her mind. There was no other explanation for the fact that in Mike’s arms, she’d found peace from her thoughts, or that she wasn’t running from the heavy desire pulsing through her body.

Mike’s large hand splayed against the thick fabric of her shirt, hot against her back. With a grateful sigh, she leaned her head against his chest and listened to the rapid beating of his heart.

His fingertips dipped slightly lower, into the top band of her jeans, and pressed her lower body against his. She couldn’t miss the hard length of his erection or the silent question. Yes, her breasts were heavy, dampness settled between her thighs, and she wanted him more than her next breath. But how could she go there again and walk away whole?

But maybe a better question was, how could she walk away now?

“Cara?” he asked, his voice a gruff, low rumble.

She tipped her head back and met his gaze. “Yes.” She knew exactly what she was saying.

His impossibly brown eyes darkened even more. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

He leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Go up the back and I’ll meet you outside my apartment in a few minutes.”

Leave separately, she thought. This time he was paying more attention to propriety, which was so un-Mike-like.

“Okay,” she said, and slid out of his arms. Anticipation swept over her and she savored the feeling, heading for the restrooms first.

She paused by the mirror, surprised by the flush in her cheeks and the glassy eyes looking back at her. She hoped nobody else noticed what a fevered state she’d been in, or sneaking out back wouldn’t mean much at all.

When she hit the fresh air, it was cold outside, and she’d left her jacket and purse in the Jeep, so Cara was glad Mike caught up with her almost as soon as she reached his place.

He unlocked the door, then slid his hand into hers and pulled her inside.

A glance around at the sparse apartment gave her a stark reminder of his constant state of impermanence. The man didn’t need a home base. Just a bed in which to sleep. She’d do well to remember that, and the knowledge helped shore up her defenses, which had slipped while he held her so tightly on the dance floor.

He tossed the keys onto a small table. “I’m glad you didn’t say no.”

She swallowed hard. “We were good together.” He made her feel more than any man ever had. And today, Daniella’s situation had reminded her that what she and Mike had was rare. Great sex and an open, honest understanding of their situation.

“We were combustible,” he said.

Even his voice was arousing, but somehow she managed to keep her wits about her. “I just expect one thing,” she said, forcing herself to turn and face him. “It’s a deal breaker.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “What is it?” he asked, clearly wary.

The poor man was worried she wanted commitment. She actually felt sorry for him. His unwillingness to open himself up to anyone meant he’d miss out on so much in life. She wondered why, coming from such a warm loving family, Mike ran from the same. Cara’s parents’ marriage was far from ideal, yet she refused to give up on the idea that maybe there was a man out there she could trust.

She doubted it, but she refused to let go of that kernel of hope. Mike had already given it up. But now wasn’t the time to go there.

She stepped closer, her hands on the top of her blouse. She slipped one button out of the loop, then worked on another. “I just want you to promise me that things between us won’t be awkward tomorrow. That you won’t go back to defensive mode and treat me like…”

She was going to say dirt, but she realized that hadn’t been his intent. “Like you’re afraid I’m going to ask for forever.”

He actually paled. “You think you know me that well?” he asked, his gaze more on the swell of her breasts pushing upward from the cups of her bra.

“I know I do.” She let another button slip through. “But you should know something about me.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice a harsh croak as her hands hit the last button and her blouse hung open wide.

“I only want what you’ll willingly give.”

Apparently her words appeased him because a sexy smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he reached up, grabbing her wrists, stopping her from slipping off her shirt.

This was the Mike she remembered, calm and in control. The man who fired her blood and stirred her arousal. His dark gaze bore into hers as he slowly lowered his head, leaving no doubt that he intended to kiss her. But instead of his lips landing on her mouth, he turned his head and pressed his cheek against hers. His razor stubble rubbed against her skin and felt warm and good, making her want to cuddle closer.

Before she could act, he latched onto her earlobe, nibbling and suckling until she felt the pull straight down to her toes. He never did what she expected or anticipated. That was also the man she remembered.

The man she still wanted.

He slid his lips from her ear to her jaw, grazing her skin as he slowly worked his way to her lips. By the time he settled his hot mouth over hers, she was shaking with need. And he’d barely touched her. He knew the power of their attraction, understood how to heighten the anticipation, and she loved every second.

He’d worked his tongue lazily inside her mouth and proceeded to devour her. His tongue tangled, sliding against the roof of her mouth, the sides, leaving no part of her untouched. Suddenly his hands came to her hips and he lifted her, carrying her to the kitchen counter, which in this small apartment wasn’t far away.

Once he placed her down, he settled himself between her legs, braced his hands on either side of the counter and leaned in for another kiss. One that was too quick.

“How is it you can be so tough on the outside and yet so damn sweet?” he asked.

His words poked at the barriers she had to keep erected against him, but he made it so hard. Thankfully he kissed her again, devouring her before she could formulate a reply.

He surrounded her, a hot male who smelled good and promised delicious things with his sexy gaze and heated kiss. Liking everything about what he was doing, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him in place, and he rewarded her with a groan of approval. And when she threaded her fingers through the silken strands of his hair, his groan deepened, reverberating through her.

He broke the kiss, his breathing rough, then reached for her shirt. He slipped it off her shoulders, trapping her arms at her sides, finally revealing her to his hungry gaze.

Thank goodness she wore a lacy bra and panties when she wasn’t on duty or else this would be a lot more awkward, she thought, unable to suppress a smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Just thinking it’s a good thing I wore something sexy,” she said, being completely honest.

He fingered the lacy fabric of her bra with roughened fingers. “That you did,” he said as he drew one fingertip down her abdomen, stopping at her navel.

He leaned in, breathed deep, and pressed a hot kiss to her stomach. Her entire body quivered with need as moisture flooded her panties.

“You taste sweet too,” he murmured, leaving her with an aching yearning for him to fill her, hot, hard, and fast.

“Michael,” she murmured, arching her back and lifting her hips in an effort to tell him what she needed.

“Soon.” The gruff word was a definite promise.

Suddenly the sound of a phone ringing interrupted the heated moment. “That’s mine,” she said, unable to hide her disappointment.

“Don’t move.” He reached behind her and pulled out the cell phone she’d tucked in her pants pocket and handed it to her.

She glanced at the screen. “It’s the station,” she said to Mike, surprised she’d be called now when she was off duty. She freed her hands, hit a button and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Cara, it’s Andy, the night dispatcher. I thought you’d want to know a call came in from your parents’ neighbors.”

All the warmth in Cara’s body dissipated, and a chill took over. “What did they say?”

“They reported shouting and the sound of something hitting the walls. I sent a car to check it out,” Andy said.

She nodded, feeling Mike’s concerned gaze, knowing he’d been standing so close he’d heard every word the dispatcher uttered.

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll meet the car over there.” She disconnected the call.

Nauseated and embarrassed, she couldn’t look Mike in the eye. “Sorry. Gotta go,” she said, pushing herself off the counter as she hopped to the floor.

“I’ll go with you.” She heard the steel in his voice and knew it wasn’t an offer.

“No!” She jerked her head toward him. “I mean, no thanks. There’s no need.” She didn’t want him to see her father at his drunken worst. Bad enough he could read the report later and feel sorry for her.