Chapter Twenty
Over the next three days, Paul fell into a comfortable routine with Vanessa.
They shared quiet mornings together. She sipped coffee and studied for her upcoming exams while he made breakfast. He retreated to the other cabin before Emily woke, where he worked until early afternoon, when they came together again.
They’d gone on a couple of excursions on his boat.
Yesterday, they’d visited a little-known swimming hole.
Sometimes he tried to fish, but often he swam or lounged with them.
The evenings had varied. Twice, she’d gone to her father’s house for dinner.
He hadn’t expected an invite—nor did he want one—so he’d been relieved when she hadn’t suggested it.
Once, he’d caught a largemouth bass and they’d cooked it over an open flame by the lake.
She’d added fresh salsa and tortillas to the meal, which had resulted in the best fish tacos he’d had since a college trip to Baja.
They hadn’t been intimate again and Paul hadn’t pressed her.
He didn’t mind waiting. They were rarely alone and the one-bedroom cabin didn’t offer much privacy.
He respected her boundaries. She was a single mother, raising a child on her own.
As far as Paul could tell, her ex had no involvement in Emily’s life.
Vanessa shouldered all the parenting responsibilities by herself and she showered her daughter with affection.
Although they hadn’t indulged in another round of heavy petting on the couch, or gone next door for a frantic quickie on the kitchen countertop, the desire between them hadn’t abated. The air crackled with tension whenever they were together.
Despite this abundance of sexual energy, Paul didn’t feel secure in his position with Vanessa.
He wondered how long she would continue their affair.
She’d admitted that she had reservations about him.
She didn’t trust men, in general. She had no reason to trust him.
He had a checkered past, a ton of baggage, and more than his share of secrets.
Even so, she hadn’t acted disinterested.
She seemed determined to enjoy their summer fling while it lasted.
He’d caught her staring at his mouth and hands.
She was a sensual woman. He didn’t think she’d had her fill of him.
He certainly hadn’t had his fill of her.
They were in a holding pattern of sorts.
She didn’t ask him personal questions. He didn’t pry into her family issues.
They looked at each other a lot, and said very little.
Better progress had been made on the remodel than their relationship.
He’d finished the bathroom and one of the bedrooms. A bed frame and mattress would be delivered today.
He’d spent the morning installing kitchen cabinets.
It was challenging work, satisfyingly physical.
Sweat dampened his T-shirt as he set the last piece.
“Do you mind?”
Paul hadn’t heard Vanessa come in over the sound of the power drill.
He had the radio cranked up on top of that.
He glanced at her through the dusty lenses of his safety glasses.
She was standing at the edge of the kitchen with her hands propped on her hips.
She switched off the music with an irritated twist.
“Do I mind what?” he asked.
“I’m trying to study,” she said.
He set down the power drill and removed his glasses to get a better look at her. She was wearing a soft-looking lavender tank top and shorts combo. He didn’t know what women called those one-piece outfits, but she wore it well. “Am I disturbing you?”
“The sound of that goddamned drill is like an ice pick in my ear.” She pointed at the side of her head to punctuate the statement.
He chuckled, despite her serious tone. He hadn’t heard her curse since the night she’d gotten drunk.
Nor had she raised her voice at him, because she’d been playing it cool, as if nothing bothered her.
She wasn’t cool now. Her eyes flashed with anger, and he liked it.
He liked her unfiltered language and hot temper.
“You’ve been at this since the crack of dawn, and I can’t take it anymore. Between the loud music and nonstop screeching, I’m losing my mind!”
He wiped the grin off his face and set the drill aside.
“I wasn’t drilling at the crack of dawn.
I start my day at eight, because that’s when Emily wakes up, and I knock off at one so she can have her afternoon nap.
Those hours are incredibly short by construction standards.
Now you want me to accommodate your study time? I think you have lost your mind.”
“Can I just have one day of quiet?”
“This is my job, Vanessa. I’m not on vacation.”
“Your schedule is flexible.”
“It’s not that flexible.”
“Do you have to drill?”
He sighed and checked his phone screen. It was almost ten, and his brother had sent several texts he’d ignored. “I guess I can take a break.”
“Thank you,” she said, throwing her hands up.
“Maybe you need a break,” he said. “You seem tense.”
She shook her head in denial. “If I don’t study, I won’t pass my exams, and I’ll end up working the zombie shift in some backwater ER. You think I’m cranky now? You should see me after a few weeks on nights.”
He drew her into his arms, despite her protests. “Take a break with me. I know just the thing to help you relax.”
She let out a huff of breath, but didn’t object as his hands roved lower. Encouraged, he kissed her bare shoulder and nuzzled his way to her earlobe. They’d hardly touched since their wild first date.
“Later,” she said, pushing away from him. “We’ll relax later.”
“Later tonight?”
“There’s a mattress outside,” she said. “It just got delivered.”
“I’ll set up the bed.”
She left without making any promises, but his body reacted as if she’d given a firm yes.
Not that he really cared one way or another.
Although he wanted to have sex with her as often as possible, in every position imaginable, he was perfectly content to sit next to her while she studied, or go for an evening stroll with her and Emily.
Paul knew something was wrong with him. Never in his life had he been so desperate to touch a woman, but also fine with abstaining.
He followed her to the doorway to watch her hips sway as she walked back to her cabin.
She glanced over her shoulder and caught him looking. With a sultry smile, she went inside.
He leaned against the doorjamb, his heart thudding in his chest. He’d stopped trying to fight his feelings for her, even though he knew it wouldn’t end well. If she invited him to a dentist appointment, he’d be there with bells on.
His obsession with her was unsettling. He wasn’t used to being in a vulnerable position with women. He felt like he was the bunny, soft and defenseless, completely at her mercy. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
His phone buzzed in his pocket again. Kyle was texting in all caps.
“CALL ME BACK NOW.”
Paul frowned at the message and pressed the call button.
“Finally,” Kyle said in greeting. “Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“We have a problem.”
Paul walked toward the bedroom for extra privacy. “I’m listening.”
“There’s been another officer-involved shooting.”
His shoulder twitched at the news. “Who?”
“A rookie named Mason Watt. He took a high-powered round to the upper quadrant of his safety vest. It was a bullseye to the center of the chest.”
“Jesus,” Paul said. “Is he okay?”
“He’s a little shaken up, but the protective plate did its job. He’s lucky to be alive.”
Paul hadn’t met the guy, or heard of him. Houston was a big city that employed hundreds of uniformed officers. “Where did it happen?”
“The 1400 block of El Camino.”
He almost dropped the phone. Watt had been shot in the same general area as him. “That’s not a coincidence.”
“No,” Kyle agreed. “I don’t have all the details yet, but I know they’ve been using a couple of different partner teams to cover your beat. Last week, they put this guy in the rotation. A new hire. He, ah, resembles you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Light hair, tall and lean. He’s only twenty-five.”
Paul sank into a crouched position. The room had no furniture, so he couldn’t sit down. “Why would they put someone who looks like me on my beat?”
“I have no idea. I assume it was an oversight.”
“I have to come back.”
“You can’t come back.”
“We have to fix this,” he said, straightening again. “They thought he was me. That guy got shot because of me.”
“It wasn’t because of you.”
“The hell it wasn’t,” Paul said, his voice raised. “I’ll drive back this afternoon, and we’ll sit down with special ops. We can set up a sting with an undercover team. The next time I go out on patrol, we’ll be ready for them.”
“We’re not doing that,” Kyle said.
“Why not?”
Kyle sighed into the receiver. “Because we can’t anticipate the time and place of another attack, we don’t have the budget for a mobile team to follow you around indefinitely, and we don’t use officers as bait.”
Paul fell silent for a moment, unable to fault this logic. “Did Watt see anything?”
“No. It was a long-range weapon, fired from a considerable distance.”
“Aiden Mendez was a sniper in Iraq.”
“He’s our prime suspect.”
“Maybe he never left Houston.”
“Maybe not,” Kyle agreed. “The media already has the story.”
“How?”
“Some skateboarder was filming his friend and caught the shooting in the background. As soon as he uploaded the footage, the news stations were all over it. They’re circulating photos of Watt, and basic information. It’s his first week on the job.”
Paul walked to the bedroom window and looked out. He felt helpless.
“The good news is Watt won’t be in danger from a second attack. He just transferred from Oklahoma. He wasn’t even in the state when you got shot. The Mendez family won’t target him again.”
“What’s the bad news?”