Joan Kilby - Protecting Her Son

“Cool,” Jamie said shyly.

“It’s time for Jamie to get ready for bed.” Paula rubbed his arms. “Go on, mate. Into your pajamas.”

“Aw, do I have to?”

“I’ll read you the dinosaur story tonight.”

Jamie went, dragging his heels and glancing over his shoulder at Riley. Paula watched him with a tiny frown. With her father dead and her only brother living in Sydney, Jamie didn’t have many male role models in his life.

“So,” she said, turning back to Riley. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was passing on my way home from the shooting range and thought I’d see how you were doing after the hazing.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets, making his shirt stretch across his chest, hinting at some serious pecs. “You seemed to take it hard.”

“I didn’t take it hard.” Paula lifted her gaze—and her chin—a fraction. “I simply wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay.” He studied her, relaxed but assessing, then seemed to decide to take her words at face value. “Nice kid, Jamie. Something upset him before I came?”

“It’s really none of your business.” Riley’s earlier words sank in. If he was at the shooting range he would have his gun in his car. When it counted he’d backed her up. A small thing, but she liked him for it.

“I appreciate you not bringing out your gun. Jamie can make a pistol out of a slice of bread but I don’t want him anywhere near a real weapon.” She sighed. “Plus, you made him forget what he was crying about.”

“I guess he was disappointed at not seeing his father.” Riley tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Doesn’t he know what his dad looks like?”

“His father is not in our lives.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s all I’m going to say. I don’t mix work and home.”

“No worries.” Riley held up his hands, palms out. “Just curious.”

“‘Curiosity killed the cat.’” The phrase she threw at Jamie when he got into stuff she didn’t want him exploring popped out.

“Satisfaction brought it back.” Riley’s sudden, sexy grin made her think of a tomcat, whiskers dipped in cream, sensual, sleek and satisfied.

Sensual? Yessiree. With the porch light gleaming on his dark hair, his broad shoulders and long-limbed athletic stance, there was no getting around the fact that Riley was hot. And tonight he’d shown he was sensitive to her wishes regarding her son. But he was her partner, out of bounds on every level. She was trying to get her career on track, not become sidelined by another inappropriate attraction.

“I need to go to Jamie. He’s waiting for me to read a story.”

Riley nodded, and backed through the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Paula resisted watching his butt move in snug jeans as he walked to his black sports car. Instead she closed the door firmly.

Before she went to Jamie she removed the toy from the high shelf and carried it out to the carport. She started to lift the lid on the rubbish bin then changed her mind and put it in the trunk of her car to take to the thrift shop tomorrow. No reason some other little boy couldn’t benefit from Nick’s largesse.

After she read Jamie a bedtime story she stayed in his room until long after he fell asleep, watching over him. A glimmer of moonlight through the curtains shone on his mussed hair and bunched pajama top. She might not be enough for him anymore but he was everything to her.

Please, don’t let anything happen to my boy. Don’t let anyone hurt him or try to take him away from me.

* * *

FROM THE SQUAD CAR’S passenger’s seat Riley watched Paula covertly through his dark glasses. They were parked on the side of the highway again, in the shade of the ti tree. Without the air-conditioning the heat of the day was almost unbearable, even with the windows rolled all the way down.

Paula was preoccupied, staring intently out the window in silence, a slight frown marring her near-flawless complexion. Was she thinking about her ex, Jamie’s father? What was the story there—love of her life or rat bastard?

Last night in her foyer, for a moment, a spark had jumped between him and Paula. It must have been seeing her in a clinging blouse and short skirt instead of her uniform that had him noticing her breasts, her legs and pretty much everything in between. Their little verbal exchange toward the end had been out of character. Not professional, almost flirting.

She’d realized it, too, and backed off so quickly she’d practically left skid marks. And if she hadn’t, he would have. He liked how she was strong as a cop and as a mother, but they worked together—a no-go zone as far as he was concerned. And it didn’t take a genius to work out that she had issues with her ex. He didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

The radio crackled.

“Code twelve on Nepean Highway at Wooralla Drive.” Patty’s Irish accent became more pronounced the more urgent the situation. “Repeat, code twelve, Nepean at Wooralla. Fire and ambulance dispatched to the scene. Car sixteen, do you read me?”

Paula started the engine and hit the switch for the flashing red and blue lights. Siren blaring she forced her way into the stream of traffic.

“Copy that, Dispatch,” Riley said into the radio. “Estimated time to scene, five minutes.” He glanced at Paula. “Correction. Officer Drummond at the wheel. Make that two minutes.”

“Right outside the primary school,” Paula muttered through gritted teeth, as she slowed behind a vehicle whose driver was oblivious. “Idiot.”

“That intersection is notorious.” Riley braced a hand on the dash as she swerved to pass on the wrong side. “It’s worse now Summerside has gotten so big.”

“Big?” Paula spared him a brief glance sideways. “I’d hate to have seen it when it was small.” She fixed her gaze on the road again. “School lets out now. You’d think people would drive more carefully.”

“Must be hard having a young kid,” Riley said. “Every time there’s an accident near the school, wondering if your child has been injured.”

“Let’s not go there, okay?” Paula crested a slight hill and slowed as she approached the intersection.

Heat shimmered off the pavement, making wavy lines in front of the crashed vehicles—a black SUV and an electric blue Holden sedan. The fire engine was there, the crew swarming over the road, directing traffic, putting out cones to block off one lane.

Children, teachers and parents congregated on the corner nearest the school. Some stood and watched while others hurried away.

Riley’s vision blurred suddenly in a haze of red and black. A convulsive shudder ran through his body. Dizzy, he dropped his head forward. Dozens of school children. Innocent, defenceless.

Paula screeched to a halt diagonally across the intersection. She frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He raised his head, tried to shake off a lingering chill. Good thing he hadn’t been behind the wheel or there might have been another accident.

Paula gave him a hard look. “Take over from the firefighter directing traffic.”

Still dazed, Riley didn’t quibble with Paula taking command. He waved cars through the intersection, watching events unfold as if watching a movie. An ambulance siren wailed, approaching rapidly. In the Holden a man in his early twenties was slumped behind the wheel, unconscious. A blonde woman was climbing out of the SUV, her arm bleeding. She was crying. Her two kids were in the backseat, also crying. The fire crew brought out the Jaws of Life to pry open the Holden’s smashed-in door.

Riley was beset by a feeling of unreality, of being disconnected to events going on around him. What was going on? Had he come down with some sort of flu bug? He didn’t feel sick so much as disoriented. And that damned headache was back. He’d left his cap in the squad car and the hot afternoon sun beat on his unprotected head.