Chapter 24 #2
Without looking at her, Jim said, “Breaking and entering, assault, vandalism.” Raising his handcuffed arm, he added, “Kidnapping.”
Blaine reached for a ring of keys on his belt, unlocked the cuffs and handed them to Tiffany.
Jim made a big show out of rubbing his wrist. “I need medical attention. I can’t see a goddamned thing out of my eye, and she crushed my balls—twice.”
Blaine didn’t even try to hide his disdain for Jim as he keyed the microphone on his shoulder and called for paramedics. “Mrs. Sturgil, why don’t you put some clothes on? I’m afraid I have to take you in.”
Gasping, Tiffany looked up at him. “You’re not serious.”
Blaine glanced at Jim, whose face was set in a hard and unyielding expression.
What did I ever see in that face?
“Get dressed, ma’am.”
With her arm still clutched to her chest, she said, “Look away, will you please?”
Hours later, Tiffany sat in the island’s only jail cell, a place she’d managed to avoid during her entire wild-child youth, with only the handcuffs to keep her company.
The bruises on her wrist and the burning skin on her rear end reminded her of how badly her last-ditch plan to win back Jim had failed. This time, it was really over.
For a minute, she indulged in a fantasy about sexy Blaine Taylor and the heated look he’d given her when he entered the apartment to find her naked on the floor.
In the instant before he remembered his official duties, he’d been nothing more than a man—a man who wanted her.
She had no doubt about that, and for some reason, the knowledge comforted her.
Passing the cuffs back and forth between her hands, Tiffany thought about the girl she’d been before she married Jim at age nineteen. Full of ambition and dreams and lists of things she wanted to accomplish by twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, she’d had her life all mapped out.
Somewhere along the way, she’d allowed his goals and plans to become hers.
“Huh. Well, that wasn’t too smart now, was it?
” Other than the dance studio, which fed one of her passions, and the day-care center that served a practical purpose after she’d had Ashleigh, she’d fulfilled none of those many goals she’d once had.
What did she need? What did Tiffany want?
Thinking back to those lists, one thing came to mind, the one thing that had topped every list she’d ever made—the desire to have her own store.
Not just any old store, but a specialty shop for women.
Lingerie, lotions, candles, massage oils, maybe even some sex toys .
. . A nervous tingle rippled through her when she thought about her plans for such a business in the heart of conservative Gansett Island.
And imagining Jim’s reaction when he realized the owner of the island’s new sexy lingerie shop was the wife he’d discarded? Well, that gave her the giggles.
Blaine stood outside the jail cell and watched Tiffany talk to herself. Why a woman who looked like her had to stoop to cuffing herself to a guy to get his attention was beyond him.
She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, exposing the long, elegant column of her neck.
Her vulnerability tugged at him. Nothing about her was fragile, yet she seemed so alone that Blaine couldn’t help wanting to help her.
However, he’d promised his friends and family that he was done with “projects”—women who needed protecting, bailing out or just downright fixing.
This one had trouble written all over her, and he’d already had more than his share.
If only he could get the vision of her naked and sprawled on the floor out of his mind.
If only he hadn’t caught a glimpse of raspberry nipples on the most spectacular breasts he’d ever beheld—and he’d spent a lot of time in the last few months dreaming about what Tiffany Sturgil’s breasts might look like.
Reality had far exceeded his fantasies. Forgetting what he’d seen in that apartment wouldn’t happen overnight.
Steeling himself to deal with her, he unlocked the cell door.
Her head whipped up, and her green eyes connected with his.
Blaine felt the impact from the top of his head to the bottom of his size-thirteen feet. The surge below his belt caught him off guard. Clearing his throat and attempting to rid his mind of naked Tiffany pictures, he stepped into the cell.
She tensed, and right away Blaine’s heart went out to her.
You can’t save the world one woman at a time, he heard his mother saying. Enough is enough, Blaine.
“Do I have to spend the night?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“No.”
Her sigh of relief echoed through the small cell. “I’ve been here a long time.”
“I was at the clinic, speaking to your husband.”
“Ex-husband.”
Blaine was ridiculously proud to realize she’d moved on at some point in the last few hours. Using his best stern cop voice, he continued. “I managed to talk him out of pursuing the B and E, assault and kidnapping charges, all of which are felonies.”
Tiffany swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
“You do have to make restitution on the tires, and he’s demanding a restraining order, requiring you stay at least five hundred feet from him except for when you’re dropping off or picking up your daughter.”
“Bastard,” she whispered. “That rat bastard.” Her big eyes shone with tears.
Damn it. If there was one thing Blaine couldn’t handle, it was a woman’s tears. Without giving himself time to think about the implications, he sat next to her on the narrow bunk. “Mind if I ask you something?”
She swiped at a tear as if it was pissing her off. “Sure.”
“What’s a nice girl like you doing with a tool like him?”
The snort of laughter seemed to take her by surprise. “Gee, Chief, don’t hold back.”
Pleased that he’d succeeded in turning her tears to laughter, he shrugged. “It’s an honest question and one I’ve had for a while now.”
“I have no idea,” she said without an ounce of guile. “At first I thought he was cute, sexy . . .” She glanced at him. “You know?”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. He doesn’t do it for me.”
When she laughed again, a coil of desire heated Blaine from within, making him wish he’d taken off his jacket. “He doesn’t do it for me anymore, either.” Gathering a thick handful of hair, she twisted it into a knot that exposed the exquisite stretch of neck again.
Blaine wanted to drag his tongue from the shallow hollow of her collarbone all the way to her delicate earlobe. He could only imagine how sweet she’d taste. Shifting to relieve the growing pressure in his lap, he forced himself to pay attention to what she was saying and not what she was doing.
Once again, she turned those green eyes on him, and something stirred deep inside, in the place he’d vowed to never go again.
“You really think I’m a nice girl after what I did tonight?”
Touched that his opinion mattered to her and mesmerized by the movement of her full, lush mouth, Blaine chose his words carefully, not wanting to give her the wrong impression. “I think you did what you felt you had to.”
“It was stupid.”
“Maybe.”
“More than anything, I hate that he thinks I’m so desperate to get him back that I’d resort to what I did tonight.”
“You didn’t consider that in the planning for this mission?”
“I really thought it would work,” she said, defeat radiating from her. “I did it more for Ashleigh than me. I wanted her to grow up in a normal family, you know?”
Blaine resisted the urge to put his arm around her and offer his shoulder to lean on. No more projects, Blaine. Clutching his hands together, he tried to process his overwhelming reaction to her. It’s because you saw her naked, he rationalized.
Then how do you explain the way you’ve obsessed about her for months? She’d been on his mind from the second her sister first introduced them when he’d gone to the clinic to see Big Mac McCarthy after the accident at the marina.
“Are you all right?” she asked, jarring him out of his thoughts.
With his face hot, his skin itchy, his cock hard enough to pound nails, Blaine stood, hoping if he moved away from her and her bewitching scent, he could get himself under control.
Leaning against the cell door, he watched eyes full of curiosity travel the length of him, stopping at the halfway point and widening with surprise. “So what happened between you guys?”
She tore her eyes off his crotch and met his gaze. “I wish I knew. When we moved back here after I helped him get through law school, it started to go bad.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair. After I waited forever for him to have time for me, he checks out of our marriage like I was never more than a meal ticket to him.”
The defeated slump to her posture touched him. “Do you want to call your mom or your sister?”
“God, no. I don’t want anyone to ever know about this.”
He didn’t mention the police log or the Gansett Gazette reporter who checked it every day. Maybe he could “forget” to file a report on this one. “Let me give you a ride home.”
“I can call a cab.”
Let her. Walk away and say good-bye. As always, his brain and his mouth had a significant communication problem. One of these days, he had to do something about that. Before his brain could overrule his mouth, words that couldn’t be taken back were being spoken. “It’s no problem.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“Don’t forget your, um, cuffs.”
“I’m not expecting to have much use for them.”
“You never know.” Now where did that suggestive comment come from?
Her face flushed to an appealing rosy shade. Realizing he’d embarrassed her, Blaine gestured for her to lead the way out. After she signed a few forms acknowledging her culpability in the vandalism and agreeing to make restitution, Blaine helped her into his police department SUV.