Chapter 2
Sandra set down her phone and stared at it for a long moment, replaying the conversation she'd just had with Captain Terry Bunswick.
His voice had been deeper than she'd expected, with a slight rasp that suggested either too much coffee or too many late nights.
When she'd explained the Johnson situation, he'd listened without interrupting, asked the right questions, and agreed to help without making her feel like she was asking for a favor.
Professional competence was attractive in any man, but his warm tone when he'd mentioned stopping for cookies for his kids made her stomach flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the terrible Legal Aid office coffee.
"Portia," Sandra called out to the reception area, "Captain Bunswick from the drug task force is coming by in about twenty minutes. Can you watch for him?"
"Oooh." Portia's voice carried interest. "I heard he's supposed to be quite something to look at."
Sandra felt heat creep up her neck. Small towns meant everyone knew everyone else's business, and apparently, that included which law enforcement officers were considered easy on the eyes. "I wouldn't know. This is strictly professional."
"Mm-hmm," Portia replied in a tone that she didn’t care. “Still nothing wrong with looking.”
Rupert, one of the other attorneys in the office, caught her in the hall. “I’m heading to file papers at the courthouse, then remember I’m taking a half personal day today.”
“That’s right. It’s not Margery, is it?”
“No, she’s fine. To be honest, I have a golf game today over at The Dunes Resort. Harrison Blackwood asked me to play.”
Her eyes bugged as her smile widened. “Ooh, you’re moving up in the world, aren’t you?” she joked.
“Blackwood is building some really nice homes in The Dunes, and with the baby coming, Margery and I are thinking of building a new house instead of trying to add onto the small one we have now. Blackwood invited me to play golf there. He said another attorney from the Virginia Beach area was coming, too. And afterward, he’s taking me through a few of the homes he’s building so I can get a feel for them.
” Rupert sighed. “I’ll have to see if I can afford one! ”
“Good luck!” she called out. She’d found a small house to rent when she came to the Shore and had no plans to buy at the moment. Although she could understand Rupert’s desire to get in with a builder with Blackwood’s reputation for excellence.
Returning to her office, she focused on the file covering her desk. Twenty minutes later, Portia's voice carried down the hallway. "Sandra, Captain Bunswick is here."
Sandra smoothed her blouse, checked her reflection in her computer screen, and immediately felt ridiculous for primping before a professional meeting. She was an attorney, not a teenager getting ready for a first date. She stepped into the reception area and nearly swallowed her tongue. Holy hell.
The man standing in their modest reception area looked like he'd stepped out of an action movie—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that suggested he ran his hands through it frequently and hadn't seen a barber in a few weeks.
He wore jeans and a button-down shirt that stretched across a chest that clearly saw regular gym time, and when he turned toward her, she caught the glint of a small silver earring in his left ear.
This was not what she'd expected from a police captain.
The men she'd dated in Alexandria had been polished professionals in expensive suits who spent their weekends at wine tastings and art gallery openings.
Terry Bunswick looked like he could change his own oil, fix a leaky faucet, and definitely knew how to throw a punch if the situation called for it.
The edginess should have made her nervous. Instead, the immediate, visceral attraction she felt caught her completely off guard.
After introductions and settling into her office, she studied Terry as they discussed the Johnson case.
The way he leaned forward when she spoke and gave her his complete attention felt both professional and intensely personal.
Most men she'd dealt with in legal settings tended to mansplain or dismiss her concerns.
Terry listened without interrupting, asked intelligent questions, and treated her expertise with respect. It was intoxicating.
When he offered to provide more help than she'd requested, Sandra felt a flutter of attraction in her chest mixed with deeper respect.
They were both people who cared about protecting those who couldn't defend themselves, and recognizing that kinship in Terry sent warmth spreading through her chest.
As their meeting wound down, Sandra was reluctant to let him leave.
The professional mask had slipped slightly during their conversation, revealing glimpses of the man beneath the badge.
He clearly adored his children, took his responsibilities seriously, and possessed a dry sense of humor that made her want to discover what else lay beneath his controlled exterior.
Single dad. The words echoed in her mind as Terry gathered his things. Two kids. That was... complicated. Not a deal-breaker necessarily but definitely something that would make any potential relationship more complex than anything she'd experienced before.
"So," Sandra said, standing as well, "I guess I know where to find you if I need anything else for the case."
"Day or night," Terry replied, and something in his tone made her pulse quicken. "This kind of injustice pisses me off almost as much as it does you."
Sandra walked him to the reception area, intensely conscious of his presence beside her. "Well, Mrs. Johnson will sleep better tonight knowing you're on her side."
"Good." Terry paused at the door, his hand on the handle. "You know, Sandra, what you do here… it matters.” He dipped his chin. “It was nice to meet you."
The unexpected praise hit her harder than any flirtation could have. "Thank you. That... that means a lot, especially coming from someone who sees the worst of what happens when the system fails people."
Terry's warm smile was genuine. "Take care of yourself, counselor."
Sandra stood at the front door after he left, watching him walk down the shop’s sidewalk toward the bakery. Even his stride was the confident, purposeful gait of a man comfortable with his own authority. Jeez, that was sexy.
The idea of dating a single father hit her.
There would be a whole world of responsibilities and complications that her previous relationships had never included.
Thinking again of the men she'd dated before brought up images of career focus, how contacts would enhance their social lives, and how to climb to the top, often on the backs of whoever happened to be on the rung just above them.
The idea of someone whose priority was always his children was both appealing and terrifying.
She shook her head. It was ridiculous to think like a teenager with a crush.
But as she watched Terry drive away with the bakery box settled on the passenger seat next to him, Sandra couldn't deny the pull of attraction that hit her the moment he'd walked into their reception area.
His presence was protective, competent, and utterly masculine.
That combination made her feel both safe and excited in a way she'd never experienced before.
Three days later, Terry called about additional documentation for the Johnson case, and somehow their five-minute conversation stretched to thirty minutes of easy dialogue that had nothing to do with legal strategy.
"You know what's funny?" Terry said, his voice more relaxed than during their office meeting. "I keep finding reasons to review this case file. Starting to think the Johnsons' paperwork is just an excuse."
Sandra felt her cheeks warm. "An excuse for what?"
"To hear your voice again." The admission was delivered with just enough humor to give him an out if she wasn't interested, but Sandra could hear the sincerity underneath.
"Well," she said, surprised by her own boldness, "maybe we should find a better excuse than case files."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Bess’s not only has pastries, but their sandwiches are amazing, and I usually grab lunch there on Fridays."
"Is that an invitation?"
Sandra's pulse quickened. "It's whatever you want it to be, Captain."
"Terry," he corrected, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "And I'll take it as an invitation. Tomorrow at noon?"
The next day, the coffee shop was cramped and noisy, filled with patrons grabbing quick lunches, but somehow, their corner table felt private.
Terry had shed his official demeanor along with his badge, and Sandra discovered he was even more appealing in casual conversation than he'd been in professional mode.
"So what made you choose Legal Aid over some big firm making the big bucks?" Terry asked, leaning back in his chair with a casualness that made her hyperaware of how his shirt stretched across his chest.
"Guilt, mostly." Sandra stabbed the chicken salad that had oozed out of her croissant sandwich with more force than necessary to distract herself from admiring the way afternoon light caught the silver in Terry's earring.
"Spent my first year out of law school making rich people richer and realized I was slowly dying inside. "
"Dramatic much?" Terry's grin took any sting out of the teasing.
"Says the man who probably joined law enforcement to serve and protect." Sandra raised an eyebrow. "We all have our savior complexes."
"Touché." Terry's rich laughter was genuine. "Though mine came with better benefits and a pension plan."
"And the occasional bullet aimed in your direction."
"There is that." Terry's expression grew serious. "My kids worry about that sometimes. Emma especially. She's got this protective streak that makes me feel guilty."
Again, there was pride in his voice when he talked about his children. Sandra found herself leaning forward, curious despite herself. "What are they like?"
Terry's entire demeanor softened. "Emma's twelve, thinks she's twenty-five, reads everything she can get her hands on. Toby's eleven, pure energy, never met a sport he didn't want to try." He paused, studying Sandra's face. "Most women run when they hear about the kids."
"Maybe you've been dating the wrong women."
Something shifted in Terry's expression, heat flaring in his eyes. "Maybe I have."
Their conversation flowed easily from there.
They covered work to family to books to travel, and Sandra found herself laughing more than she had in months.
Terry was funny in an understated manner, smart without being condescending, and had a way of asking questions that made her feel he was genuinely interested in her answers.
"I should probably leave," Terry said finally, glancing at his watch. "I have to get back to the station. I don’t want to be late since Toby has a soccer game tonight."
Sandra was hit with another flutter of attraction. "Dedicated dad."
"Only kind worth being." Terry stood, then hesitated. "Sandra, I enjoyed this. A lot. Would you maybe want to do it again sometime? When we don't have case files as an excuse."
Sandra felt her heart rate spike. "I'd like that very much."
A week later, they met again, this time at Jillian’s Coffee Shop in Baytown, which Terry recommended. The conversation was even easier the second time—the flirtation more obvious and the attraction impossible to ignore.
"You know," Terry said, reaching across the small table to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "I keep thinking I should probably warn you that my life is complicated as hell."
The casual touch sent heat racing through Sandra's system, and she had to concentrate to keep her voice steady. "Define complicated."
"Sometimes basketball practice at seven on Saturday mornings.
Emma's friends over for a slumber party.
Toby's friends thinking my house is the neighborhood headquarters.
" Terry's hand lingered near her cheek for a moment before he pulled it back.
"Plus, there's the ex-wife to coordinate with, and the fact that I haven't been on a real date in over a year. "
"Who says I'm looking for simple?" Sandra asked, her boldness now seeming commonplace where Terry was concerned.
His eyes darkened as his voice dropped to a rougher register. "Careful, counselor. You might get more than you bargained for."
The promise in his voice made Sandra's pulse race. She was definitely getting in over her head with Terry Bunswick, but for the first time in her carefully planned life, that felt like exactly where she wanted to be.