Breaking Her Trust (Infidelity #6)

Chapter One

Lorelie

The auditorium erupts into applause as the Chief of Police announces, “Sergeant Patrick Boise.”

I clap until my palms sting.

Patrick rises from his row, crisp blues perfectly pressed, jaw tight in that way it gets when he’s trying not to smile. The silver pin gleams in the Chief’s hand, and when Patrick turns toward me, his eyes find mine, pride shining through.

Milo bounces on my knee. “Daddy!” he shouts, and half the room chuckles.

When they call me forward to pin the badge, my fingers tremble slightly against the heavy fabric of his uniform.

“Proud of you,” I whisper.

He leans down, just enough that only I can hear: “Couldn’t have done it without you, Lore.”

He lands a kiss on my lips, appropriate for public view, though his eyes promise what’s later to come.

A ripple of laughter passes through the audience. I can feel my cheeks warm, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. I bite it back, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and give a small nod to the front row before retreating to my seat.

Milo claps like the ceremony is his doing, little palms smacking together in pure joy. “Daddy’s a sergeant!” he announces to anyone within earshot. The woman beside us chuckles, and even Chief Kent at the podium hides a grin behind his notes.

“Inside voice, bug,” I whisper, tugging him gently onto my lap. He smiles, unfazed, and keeps right on bouncing.

Patrick joins the line of newly promoted officers along the stage. His expression is composed now, all professionalism, but the corner of his mouth curves just slightly when he finds me and Milo in the crowd again.

Colter stands a few rows behind us, back straight as a board, pride practically radiating off him.

Eloise sits beside me, eyes bright with that unmistakable mother’s joy.

Patrick’s older brother, Harvey, couldn’t be here today, something about an undercover operation.

He promised to meet us at the restaurant later.

Zoey, Patrick’s younger sister, goes back to her phone once her brother’s part is done, scrolling with one hand while clapping with the other.

The Chief finishes his remarks, something about legacy and leadership and the crowd rises to their feet in one final round of applause.

When I met Patrick all those years ago, he was just a patrol officer and I was just a resident. Now look at us. I squeeze Milo tighter in my arms. Married. Babies. Careers that somehow thrived despite the sleepless nights.

Patrick and I lock eyes again, a quiet secret smile passing between us. After dinner tonight, we’ll finally announce that not only has he been promoted to Sergeant, but Milo will soon be promoted to big brother soon.

This one was planned.

I resist the urge to touch my stomach. I’m in my second trimester now, but I’m not showing yet. With Milo, I started early, he made sure the world knew he was coming.

This time, I’m hoping the difference means a girl. I love my son, but I need some estrogen in the house, someone else to yell, when the toilet seat’s up.

The crowd begins to disperse, moving toward the front of the stage where tables of food and refreshments wait.

I don’t bother joining the line. Instead, Milo and I stand off to the side, watching as Patrick makes his way through the crowd, shaking hands, accepting back slaps, nodding to people he probably doesn’t even remember.

“Daddy!” Milo shouts, breaking free from my hold and running full-tilt into Patrick’s legs.

Patrick scoops him up easily, laughter bursting out of him. “You’re a Sergeant now!” Milo declares, eyes wide with pride.

“Yeah, buddy,” Patrick chuckles, hoisting him higher. “I am.”

Milo’s fingers immediately find the new silver pin on his father’s uniform, tracing its edges like treasure.

“Hi, baby,” I say softly, stepping closer.

“Hi,” he answers, lowering his head just enough to press his lips against mine, a real kiss this time, not the chaste one from the stage.

We’re interrupted by a familiar groan. “Please stop,” Zoey mutters behind us.

I pull back, laughter slipping out as I run my hand down Patrick’s cheek before stepping aside to give his family room.

Eloise sweeps in first, arms wrapping around him in a proud, practiced hug. “My Sergeant,” she says, voice thick with emotion.

Colter’s next, offering a firm handshake. “Proud of you, son,” he manages, gruff but sincere.

And Zoey, ever the little sister, punches his shoulder lightly. “Congrats, loser.”

Patrick grins. “Thanks, kid.”

I’m nudged lightly from behind, and before I can turn, Patrick’s already glaring over my shoulder at whoever it was. His hand finds my waist, pulling me in closer.

Eloise watches us with a knowing smile, while Colter clears his throat. “I think that’s enough handshaking for one day. How about we head to the restaurant?”

Patrick glances at his dad, then back at me. “I’m gonna stop by O’Reilly’s for a celebratory drink with the guys. How about Lore and I meet you there?”

Zoey perks up immediately, eyes sparkling. “How about that, Milo? Want to ride with Auntie Zoey in her new car?”

Milo releases Patrick’s pin and turns, eyes wide with delight. “Can we get ice cream on the way?”

“Milo, we’re going to a rest-” Patrick starts, but Zoey cuts him off with a grin. “Of course we can.”

Before Patrick can protest, she’s already lifting Milo out of his arms, smug satisfaction written all over her face.

“Zoey,” Patrick warns, but she just winks, shifting Milo onto her hip. “Relax, Sarge. I’ll see you there.”

We both watch as she heads toward the exit, Milo chattering nonstop about sprinkles and waffle cones. Eloise and Colter follow a moment later, Eloise leaning in for one more hug, Colter giving Patrick’s shoulder a firm, approving squeeze.

When they’re gone, I turn to Patrick, smoothing my hand over the front of his shirt, adjusting the new silver pin on his chest. “How do you feel?” I ask once we’re alone.

Patrick’s lips lift in a small, heart stopping smirk. He steps closer, closing the space between us until our chests brush. To anyone watching, it might look like he’s just shifting in a crowded room, but I feel the truth of it in the light pressure of his fingers tracing the curve of my spine.

A shiver runs through me. “Excited?” I manage.

He leans in, voice low. “Very.”

The word hums against my skin, his breath warm against my mouth. Then he kisses me, softly, a barely-there whisper of lips against lips. My hands curl around his belt, the rough leather of his uniform brushing against my palms.

I pull back with a groan. “Do we have to go to O’Reilly’s?”

He grins, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “You’re just mad you can’t drink.”

I open my mouth, ready to defend myself, then close it again. “It’s unfair,” I mutter. “I get fat, can’t drink what I want, can’t eat what I want, and you-” I give his waist a squeeze, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, “you look like this.”

Patrick laughs, the sound rumbling against my palms.

He’s what I’d describe as butch, the kind of build that makes his uniform look like it was made for him. He’s strong and big and…

I swallow and fan myself with one hand. “Damn hormones.”

Patrick

The drive to O’Reilly’s passes in a blur, mostly thanks to Kowalski’s nonstop chatter from the back seat.

We never should’ve agreed to give him a ride.

He’s going on about some case he’s working, a missing phone, a trail that somehow led him to the bottom of an elevator shaft. Riveting stuff.

“I just had a sense, you know?” he says for the fourth time, waving his hands like that somehow makes it sound smarter.

From the passenger seat, Lorelie’s head tilts just slightly, and I can feel her eye roll without even looking. I glance over anyway. She catches my expression and smirks, the corner of her mouth twitching like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

Yeah, she’s gonna pay for saying yes when Kowalski asked for a ride.

I was looking forward to making out at stoplights. Maybe some heavy petting if traffic lights worked in my favor. Judging by the look she’d given me back in the auditorium, I’d had good odds.

Instead, I’ve got a rookie detective narrating his greatest hits from the back seat, Lorelie pretending to listen, and me wanting to kick the asshole out.

What feels like forever later, I finally pull into O’Reilly’s. It’s a bar owned by a retired lieutenant, the go-to cop hangout. Today, we’re celebrating the promotions informally, which means half the damn brass is here.

My dad never liked these things, so he avoids the informal stuff. Says if he wanted to drink with officers after hours, he’d have stayed on the force another ten years.

The second Kowalski opens the bar doors; a cheer goes up.

He basks in it like they’re cheering for him.

Lore lets out a small, silent laugh beside me.

My former partner and senior detective on my team, Barry, strides over, grin already in place as he grabs my hand for a hard shake.

“My man, sorry, Sergeant,” he corrects himself, giving a sloppy salute.

Then he leans in and plants a kiss on Lore’s cheek.

“Lorelie, looking radiant as ever.”

She smiles, soft and polite. “Thank you, Barry.”

Okay, that’s enough.

I slide an arm around her waist, pulling her snug against my side as I nudge Barry back a step.

He throws his head back, laughing loud enough for half the bar to hear, and cracks an imaginary whip in the air.

“Come on, Sarge,” he says, jerking his head toward the bar. “First round’s on me.”

Lore and I follow him to the counter. Barry waves the bartender over and orders three beers without asking.

Lore gives me that look, the one that says she’s two seconds from hurling a coaster at my head if I let her sit here pretending to drink.

“I’ll just use the restroom,” she says, touching my arm before slipping away through the crowd.

As soon as she’s gone, I lean toward the bartender.

“Make that only two bears and a virgin margarita.”

Barry turns toward me, clocks the grin stretching across my face, and his eyebrows shoot up.

“Oooh,” he drawls. “That’s why she’s glowin’. We gettin’ a new Boise in the house?”

I nod once smiling. “We haven’t told anyone yet.”

Barry presses a hand to his chest. “Man, I’m touched. Really. And here I was thinkin’ Lorelie Hill Boise had a crush on me.”

I slap his shoulder. It’s meant to feel playful. It isn’t.

“Nah. That’s all hormones.”

He coughs, rubbing the spot. “Okay, man.”

I stand to my full height and glance out over the crowd. Lore’s making her way back, stopped by someone on the way, probably one of the endless people she met through the job, I can never keep track.

The bartender sets the drinks on the counter.

I look at the beer. One won’t affect me at all, but I’m driving my pregnant wife tonight.

Putting it down, I slide the glass to Barry. He nods, understanding instantly.

I grab the margarita and take a small sip. Not bad.

Lore reaches us and promptly steals the drink from my hand. “Hey, mine.”

She sips it, makes a disgusted face, then sets it down.

I take it back, lifting it in an exaggerated toast before taking another sip.

She laughs slapping my chest. “Goof.”

I run a hand down her arm. “Who was that?”

She waves a hand. “A friend from med school. I guess he’s dating Officer Clemons.”

“Oh,” I say, but before I can add anything, the same guy strolls up behind her.

“Lore, it was great to see you.”

My hackles shoot straight up. Lore. That’s my nickname for her.

“Great to see you too, Brick,” she says.

He leans in and kisses her cheek, then recoils the second he sees my glare. His eyes drop to my dress blues, then to the empty glass clutched in my hand. He swallows hard and beats a retreat without another word.

Lore turns to me, catching my expression. “Stop.”

“He called you Lore,” I mutter.

She smiles. “A lot of people called me Lore before you claimed it.”

I make a face and set the glass down. “He’s lucky you never dated.”

She makes a small, noncommittal sound and avoids my eyes.

“You never dated him, right?”

She hesitates. “We… never dated. Not like that.”

“Like what?” I ask, already knowing I won’t like the answer.

She exhales. “There may have been one… encounter.”

I deadpan. “You hooked up.”

She nods, avoiding my eyes.

I shrug. “It’s fine, Lore. You’re acting like I don’t have a history too. It was a long time ago.”

I glance around the bar. No will notice if we slip out. “Let’s get out of here. There’s not much of a scene tonight.”

Lore nods, and together we slip out before Barry catches us leaving.

In the car on the short drive to the restaurant, I ask, “So this… encounter. When was it?”

She laughs lightly. “Does it matter?” She avoids my eyes again.

I shrug. “You know my entire history.”

She tilts her head. “You never asked before.”

“I never had a face to the nameless piece of shit before,” I say, turning into the parking queue.

“Patrick.” Her voice is quiet. “You’re better than that.”

We inch forward. I keep my gaze on her instead of the car in front of me. “Why are you avoiding the question? It was before me… right?”

Her guilty expression gives me my answer before she speaks.

“Right?”

She sits up straighter, flicking invisible lint from her dress. “It was before we were exclusive,” she says carefully.

“So… after me.”

She shrugs. “I guess.”

“Lore-”

“Look,” she says, taking a deep breath, reaching for my hand. “We’re here. Can we not turn this into a thing? I love you. We’re together now.”

I nod, even though I’m not sure I can actually table this until tonight.