Beth Andrews - Do You Take This Cop?

Nick already knew they’d moved around a lot before settling in Kingsville. Britney had gleaned that much information from her employee. But not much else. Nick hadn’t really wondered about it before. He’d figured they hadn’t found the right place to settle.

But now…now he couldn’t ignore the little voice in the back of his head. The one telling him there was more to the story. The one whispering that maybe Faith and Austin were running from something.

Or someone.

STEPPING ONTO THE first stair, Faith stopped short when Austin came barreling around the corner. “Hey,” she said as he took the stairs two at a time, “I was just coming down to see how things were going.”

Because though she’d been telling herself he was fine, she couldn’t stop worrying. He’d rarely been alone with any other adult since they’d left New York, and she’d made sure he was never alone with a man. Nick was the golden boy of Kingsville. Well liked. Honorable. A man people turned to when they needed help. But she knew all too well that a spotless reputation was no guarantee of a man’s true nature.

“It’s going fine,” Austin mumbled, brushing past her.

She caught up with him by the sink. “Are you sure?” She searched his face. His cheeks were pink and he kept his gaze averted. Her fingers tensed on his shoulders. “Did something happen? Did—did Nick say…or do…something to you?”

Austin pulled away from her. “No.”

“If someone upsets you or makes you feel…uncomfortable…you need to tell me.”

“Nothing happened.”

She straightened at the tone in his voice. “I’m glad to hear that. But how about you lose the attitude? Or at least save some up until you hit your teens.”

“Sorry,” he said, as the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs reached them.

“I have some bad news.” Nick set his toolbox down by her most prized flea-market find, an antique pedestal table with a distressed white finish. “I also have some almost good news.”

“Can I finish reading my comic now?” Austin asked.

“Sure,” Faith said slowly. “But only for fifteen minutes. Then I’m going to need you to set the table and take the garbage out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Bye, Austin,” Nick called as the boy walked away. Her son lifted a hand but kept right on going.

“I’ll take the bad news first,” she told Nick, vowing to talk to Austin about his lack of manners once they were alone. If he said nothing had happened in the basement, she had no reason to doubt him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more going on than her son had told her.

“You need a new water heater,” Nick announced.

“I figured as much.” She washed her hands and began mixing the ingredients together for meat loaf. Cold, raw beef squished between her fingers. “I appreciate you taking time out of your day off to look at it.”

He stood at the counter next to her. “Don’t you want to hear the almost good news?”

What she wanted was to show him the door. Too bad she had a part to play. “Of course.”

“I called a friend of mine. He can get you a new water heater at cost. Plus, if I help him install it, he’ll give you a break on the labor.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I asked him to.”

She was becoming even more jaded than she’d realized if the idea of someone doing a friend a favor made her suspicious.

She shaped the meat mixture into a small loaf, set it in a glass baking dish and washed her hands. “I wouldn’t feel right imposing on him, or you, that way.”

It was funny how things worked out. She’d spent most of her life searching for a man to take care of her, and now when a guy did offer his help, she couldn’t get away fast enough. Yeah, life sure was a freaking riot.

“It’s no imposition on either of us,” Nick assured her. “He’ll still get paid, but it’s up to you. It won’t save you a lot, just a couple hundred dollars.”

“Did he happen to mention how much he thinks it’ll cost?”

Nick named a figure that, while still high enough to make her checkbook whimper, was two hundred dollars less than the quote the plumber had given her over the phone this morning. She stuck the meat loaf into the preheated oven, rinsed two small potatoes and picked up her coarse vegetable brush.

It was only one more time, a few more hours of having Nick in here, around her son. And he wouldn’t really even have to be around them. She could leave Nick and his friend to do their job while she and Austin steered clear. Surely they could get through it unscathed.

“On second thought,” she said, scrubbing the potato so hard she almost took the skin right off, “I’d be…grateful for your help.”

“No problem. We’ll swing by tomorrow after work. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to finish the job. Six o’clock work for you?”

“Sounds good.” Could he stop staring at her now? She’d given in. What more did he want? Pleasant conversation? That was just way beyond her acting capabilities at the moment. Besides, she needed to get back to Austin, to reassure herself he really was okay.

She set the potatoes aside and, inwardly cringing at her own rudeness, said, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

As a nudge, it was less than subtle, but at least it worked. Humor lit his dark eyes. “Right. I can find my own way out.”

“Oh, no, let me just—”

But he picked up his toolbox and left, with Faith racing after him. She stopped in the doorway to find Nick crouching next to the couch, talking to Austin.

“I was apologizing,” Nick said to her, even though he didn’t look her way, just watched her son while Austin kept his gaze glued to his comic book.

Her stomach dropped. “Apologizing for what?”

“I’m not exactly sure.” Nick drummed his fingers against his knee. “But I think it had something to do with my asking if Austin was interested in playing baseball.”

“I’m not,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” Nick nodded. “I got that. Anyway,” he told Austin, “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to pressure you—”

“I didn’t,” the boy said, still not so much as glancing Nick’s way.

“Does that mean we’re okay?”

Austin lifted a shoulder. Faith opened her mouth to scold him but caught the quick head shake Nick gave her. “Great.” Nick stood and grabbed his toolbox once again. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He held out his fist. For a moment, Faith had no idea what he was doing until Austin, still staring at the comic, bumped his own fist against the man’s much larger one. Nick grinned, gave her a wink and walked out the door.

Faith watched him leave.

Then she crossed the room and locked the door behind him.

“HOW COME I GOT this end?” Nick asked the next evening, struggling down Faith’s steps backward while he and Ethan Crosby hauled a new water heater to the basement.

“Quit bitching. I had the low end when we moved that Ping-Pong table, remember? And that thing weighs at least fifty pounds more than this.” Ethan shifted his side of the heater a few inches higher. “I have two kids to send to college—”

“They’re both still in diapers.”

“—and I can’t risk having my neck broken because you can’t hold up your end.”

“Get over it,” Nick said, referring to Christmas Eve two years ago when Ethan had helped him move an assembled Ping-Pong table into Kathleen’s basement. “You only needed four stitches.”

Nick took a careful step backward, his arms stretched wide to hold on to the bulky, heavy box. He glanced over his shoulder.

Three more steps and they made it to the bottom without any casualties. Most importantly, they made it without dropping the damn thing. After carrying it to the far end of the basement, they set it upright and took a moment to catch their breath.