A Weaver Beginning Page 13

  “Really?” She didn’t look at him as she pushed off the counter and bent to retrieve her sweater. “Then why are you looking at me with such horror?”

  “It’s not horror. It’s surprise.” He turned his back on her because watching her put on her sweater was torment. He wished he could rewind time and undo the past hour or so.

  Hell, if he was wishing for the impossible, why not rewind the past ten years?

  The devil on his shoulder laughed maliciously. She’d have been thirteen.

  He blew out a long breath and slowly looked at her. Thankfully, the sweater was back in place. Now he only had the vision of her body underneath to torture him for the rest of his days. “The only one who should apologize here is me.”

  Her chin crumpled slightly, and he braced himself for tears. But they didn’t come. “I think you should,” she said, angling her chin instead. “Stopping like that was...rude.” A fresh tide of red flowed through her cheeks.

  Not the reaction he’d expected. Nothing about Abby was turning out like he’d expected. “A little smart-i-tude, Abby?”

  She lifted her shoulder, but she didn’t lower her chin.

  He knew better than to smile, but something inside him felt lighter. “I don’t have any experience with women like you,” he admitted slowly.

  The shadows in her eyes—shadows he’d put there—flickered. “I don’t have any experience with women like me, either.”

  The bark of laughter escaped him.

  She pressed her soft lips together. She didn’t look quite amused, but at least she didn’t look as if she were going to cry. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it if he made her cry.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She lifted her hands. “It’s not like it’s a natural topic of conversation, and I never thought we’d—” She broke off and shook her head, looking away.

  He let out a long breath. “We’re not going to solve this problem tonight.”

  “Is that what my virginity is? A problem?”

  “The lack of condoms is a problem,” he said bluntly and watched the way her eyes widened.

  Then he watched a swallow work down her slender throat and tried not to think about the way it felt pressing his mouth against her creamy skin and the pulse thundering beneath.

  “You’re not turned off?”

  The devil on his shoulder was cackling so merrily he fell right off his perch. Sloan closed his hands around her hips and pulled her close, rocking her toward him. “Sweetheart, there is nothing about you that doesn’t turn me on.”

  She inhaled audibly. Her hands roved over his shoulders, fingertips kneading. “I didn’t mean to start something I couldn’t finish,” she whispered.

  “I believe you. This is not your fault, so don’t tell me you’re sorry again.” Then he kissed her. Well and thoroughly.

  And when he couldn’t take it another second, he set her from him. “That’s a poor substitute for everything else I want,” he said huskily, “but it’s going to have to do for now.”

  “It’s not a kiss-off?”

  He shook his head, amused despite himself. “You don’t have a clue what sort of hold you have over me, do you. Things are nowhere near finished, Abby. And next time, I can promise you I’ll be prepared.” He scooped up the two remaining cookies that had escaped their countertop antics and gave her a long look. “You won’t have any reason to call me rude for stopping...like that.”

  Her eyes turned smoky.

  Before he could lose his remaining sliver of self-control, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Thanks for the cookies.”

  She just gave him a bemused look. “You’re welcome.”

  * * *

  Abby didn’t catch a glimpse of Sloan the next morning. His SUV was already gone when she hustled Dillon out the door for school.

  But that was okay. She knew she’d see him soon enough.

  Things were working out.

  Sloan hadn’t looked at her as if she were a space alien when he’d learned she was a virgin. If he had cared about that, he wouldn’t still want to see her.

  It was all she could do not to grin like a buffoon when she left Dillon outside his classroom and headed to her office.

  She hummed her way through three hours of vision screenings at the junior high, doodled through a conference call with the education board and realized she’d forgotten to pack her own lunch when Dee stopped by her office, brown bag in hand.

  “Come and share my misery,” Dee begged. “I have ten minutes to eat and then playground duty.”

  Abby chuckled. “It can’t be that bad.”

  Dee clucked her tongue. “You really are young. The Pollyanna luster hasn’t had a chance to wear off. Give it a few more years.” She gestured. “You coming or not?”

  Abby had nothing else she needed to take care of, and it was her lunch hour. “Why not?” She pushed away from her desk and retrieved her coat.

  The lunch bell had rung, and the hall was filled with children boisterously leaving their classrooms behind. “You want to pick up something to eat from the cafeteria?” Dee asked over the chaos.

  Who needed food? She was floating on air. “I’m fine.”

  They reached the heavy metal doors that led outside, and Dee gave her a sideways look. “It’s a Monday, for God’s sake. But you’re even more chipper than usual. Why?”

  She pushed open the door and led the way to the playground. “No reason.”

  Dee narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything until they reached one of the benches. So far, the space was quiet since the children were inside for lunch, and they sat down.

  Abby stretched out her legs and lifted her face to the sun.

  “Oh my God,” Dee muttered softly. “Are you sleeping with Deputy Hottie?”

  Abby jerked and stared at Dee. “What? No!”

  Dee just pursed her lips knowingly. Her eyes danced. “Don’t tell lies to your elders.”

  Abby rolled her eyes and looked away. “Give me a break.”

  “Well, something has gotten into you. If it’s not your hot neighbor, who is it?”

  “Dee!” Despite her embarrassment, Abby laughed. “Someone’s going to hear you.”

  Dee made a point of looking around them at the entirely empty playground. “Come on. Dish.”

  “There’s nothing to dish about!”

  “He was bad in the sack, huh?” Dee tsked. “Well, just because a guy looks great doesn’t always mean he’ll be great. Learned that lesson a time or two myself.”

  Abby covered her face, shaking her head. “Too much information, Dee.”

  Her friend laughed. Then she bumped her shoulder against Abby’s. “So it was good, then.”

  She flushed and looked away. “I’m not going to talk about this with you.”

  “Oh, come on.” Dee’s laughter died away, but she was still amused. “You really like him?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Oh, well, shoot,” Dee grumbled. “Now I’m really jealous. Although, the next poker night won’t be so costly if you’re not among us spinsters.”

  “None of you are spinsters,” Abby said with a laugh. “I still can’t believe you call yourselves that.”

  “Honey, most of us are over thirty and not a one of us is tied up with a man.” Dee’s expression turned devilish. “Rope ties being the exception.”

  “Dee!”

  “Just kidding. It is way too easy to shock you.” Dee looked over her shoulder to make sure that the doors to the school building were still closed. “So is it serious? This thing between you and Sloan?”

  Abby thought about it. “I don’t know.”

  “Has he decided to stay in town after all?”

  “I don’t know,” she said again. And she didn’t really want to think about it because when she did, it had a particularly dampening effect on the happiness bubbling inside her.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with just enjoying the moment,” D
ee added. “As long as you know that’s what you’re doing.”

  She knew that Dee was trying to watch out for her. “I know.”

  Dee studied her for a moment. Then her eyes filled with mischief again. “I’m still jealous.”

  Abby laughed, and soon, the metal doors behind them clanged. Children spewed out into the sunshine, propelled by a morning’s worth of cooped-up energy.

  Dee put aside her lunch on the bench. “Brace yourself,” she warned, pushing herself to her feet. “Now the real fun of the day begins.”

  Abby rose, too, even though she had no particular responsibility as a playground monitor the way the teachers who shared the job in rotating shifts did. Dee wasn’t alone, either; she was soon joined by Rob Rasmussen, the teacher who’d caught Dillon and Calvin fighting in the bathroom. Two of the student teachers whose names Abby couldn’t recall came out to supervise, as well.

  She wandered among the children as they clustered in their obviously familiar groups. Some headed off onto the snowy baseball field, some climbed on the jungle-gym equipment and some sat huddled on the cement pads that were painted with lines for activities. She tossed a bouncing red ball back to a foursome of chattering little girls and spotted Dillon and Chloe Clay heading for the swing set.

  When the bell rang a half hour later, Abby felt almost as much disappointment as the kids did. She returned to her office and a ringing phone, which she grabbed as she shrugged out of her coat. “Nurse’s office.”

  “Do nurses ever wear white uniforms and caps anymore?”

  Pleasure flooded her at the sound of Sloan’s voice, and she smiled as if he were there to see it. “Is your fantasy showing, Deputy?”

  He laughed softly. “Might bear some thinking about.”

  She very nearly shivered. She glanced at her empty doorway as she sat down behind her desk. “How do you feel about sturdy white shoes with rubber soles that squeak against the floors?”

  “Now whose freak is showing?”

  She giggled. The only fantasy she had was him; hearing his voice was enough to have her squirming in her chair. “How’s your day been?”

  “Long. One of the other deputies is going to be out for a while. Ruiz. He had an emergency appendectomy yesterday.”

  “That’s too bad. Is he all right?”

  “He will be. But I have to take his spot at a conference in Cheyenne. Leaving this afternoon.”

  Disappointment swamped her. Then she shook herself. He was just doing his job. “How long will you be gone?”

  “We’ll be back on Friday.”

  “Who else is going?”

  “Max and Dawson.”

  She ignored a quick jab of jealousy. Dawson, the one who jogged in the park and never wimped out. “What’s the conference about?”

  “It’s a national thing once a year. Combined agencies, a bunch of workshops. Ruiz’s appendectomy is a pain in my ass,” he added wryly. “I hate sitting in meetings.”

  “Maybe you’ll learn something valuable.”

  “Maybe I’ll be thinking about you in a cute little nurse’s cap and nothing else.”

  He laughed softly when she caught her breath, and she knew he’d said it just to shock her. “Maybe I’ll be waiting for you on Friday wearing exactly that,” she managed to say smoothly and enjoyed the way he choked a little on his laughter. “I’ll miss you,” she admitted.

  “Find someone to watch Dillon Friday night.”

  Her stomach swooped, and her mind seemed to fizz. “Okay.” A movement at her doorway had her sitting up straight, though. “Thank you for calling,” she added primly.

  His laughter was low and knowing. “Friday, sweetheart.” Then he hung up.

  She swallowed, trying to look at least vaguely professional as she replaced the phone and gestured for the student who was clutching a hall pass to enter.

  That student was the first in a stream of them, not leaving Abby with a lot of time to dwell on the call. She made up for it that night, though, after Dillon was sound asleep, and she couldn’t close her eyes without images of Sloan overwhelming her.

  But even that was okay, she realized, as she turned her head into her pillow. Because she went to sleep and dreamed of him.

  * * *

  The next day, after Abby left Dillon at his classroom she headed to Dee’s room. Her friend made her way around the children hanging up their coats and met Abby in the doorway. “What’s up?”

  “Can you watch Dillon for me Friday night?”

  Dee’s eyebrows went up. “Deputy Hottie?”

  Abby rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t very well deny it. And there wasn’t much time before the final bell would ring, signaling the start of classes. “Try not to announce it to the world, okay? So can you?”

  Dee grinned. “Sure. Second and thirds get dismissed late that day, you know. Because of the Cee-Vid field trip.”

  Abby wanted to slap her head for forgetting. “I already told Dillon he couldn’t go because of that fight.” She shifted to allow a little girl lugging a backpack that was half her size to get past.

  “He’ll probably be the only one not going,” Dee said seriously. “The tour is one of the highlights of the year.” The bell buzzed over the last of her words, and she looked over her shoulder. “Seats,” she called out, and the kids began scrambling. “Just think about it,” she told Abby as she reached for the door and started to close it. “Either way, you can count on me for Friday night.” She grinned quickly. “But if it spills over onto Saturday morning, I’ve got a pole-dancing fitness class at eleven.”

  Abby tried not to choke on her laughter as she stepped into the hall so that Dee could close the door. All up and down the corridor, she could hear the similar sound of other doors closing, and then she was alone, and the sudden silence nearly echoed.

  She turned on her heel, and the sole of her shoe squeaked loudly on the tile.

  She hurried to her own office, where she wouldn’t be caught grinning like a fool.

  * * *

  “Sheriff’s looking for you.”

  Stifling a yawn, Sloan glanced up from the report he was reading on trends in crime in rural areas to kill time between conference sessions. “Where is he, Dawson?”

  “Coffee shop.”

  Glad for a reason to move, he handed the dull report to her. “Better than prescription sleep aids.”

  She eyed the thick report ruefully. “I’ll bet.” She tucked it in her bag. “See you at dinner.” Without a second glance, she headed off as he worked his way through the crowded hotel lobby to the coffee shop. It, too, was teeming with conference attendees, but Sloan spotted Max easily enough and wound his way through the tables to reach him.

  “What’s up?”

  Max gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Glad you’re here. Gives me a chance to talk to you for a second.”

  They’d been in Cheyenne since the previous afternoon. Max had had ample opportunities to talk to Sloan if he’d wanted. “About?”

  “Your plans.” Max stuck his mug out for the harried-looking waitress, and she splashed coffee into it without slowing her stride. “If you’ve been thinking about the offer I made.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Sloan allowed. “You in a hurry for an answer all of a sudden?”

  Max toyed with the coffee mug. “Do I need to sweeten the pot?”

  Sloan grimaced. “I’m not angling for anything, Max. I just don’t know if—”

  “—if you want to stay in Weaver.” His boss’s fingers flicked off the idea. “You’ve been clear about that from the start.” He glanced toward the door. “I need a chief deputy.”

  Sloan went still. “Ruiz has the most seniority. He’ll be back on his feet before long.”

  “It’s not a matter of seniority. In any case, Ruiz has already told me he’s not interested. Doesn’t want the stress.”

  Sloan snorted. “Does anyone?” The chief deputy would be second in line only to the sheriff. “How much is administrative?�
�

  “Not as much as I’ve got to deal with.”

  “I don’t have the experience.”

  Max snorted.

  Sloan shifted. “Supervisory experience,” he added.

  “A man’s gotta start somewhere.” He glanced toward the door again. He didn’t seem to see what he was looking for and sat forward. “I have to get my butt reelected every four years. But I get to hire who I want. And I want you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re good at what you do,” Max said bluntly. “I know the job is a helluva lot more staid than running undercover with the Deuces, but it’s still important. The department covers a lot of territory. Lot of people count on us.”

  “Why’d you decide to make the change?” Sloan knew that Max’s history was with the DEA.

  The older man’s lips twitched slightly. “Sarah.”

  Max was talking about his wife. But it was Abby who popped into Sloan’s head way too easily.

  Then his boss glanced at the door again and muttered an oath. “Just keep it in mind, okay?”

  Sloan frowned but nodded. And then he stiffened when he recognized the man approaching them.

  Max had risen, his hand extended to the other man. “Sean. Good to see you again.” He gestured toward Sloan. “I agreed to get him here because I owed you one. Now we’re even.” He tossed a few bucks down on the table for the waitress as he stepped out of the way. “Deputy McCray.” He pinned Sloan with a look. “We’ll finish this later.”

  Sloan nodded once, but he didn’t look away from the interloper’s face. He did wait, however, until his boss had walked away before he let his feelings show. “Didn’t know the ATF was sending special agents all the way out here from the Chicago field office,” he drawled. “Or are you just slumming, Sean?”

  Sean Cowlings smiled thinly. “Good to know there’s still no love lost between us.” He took the seat that Max had vacated, pushed aside the thick white coffee mug and folded his manicured hands on top of the table. “Think you’re the one slumming it. You happy playing traffic cop in the middle of nowhere?”

  He let the insult slide. He and Sean had come up in the academy together, but to say they’d been friends would have been seriously overstating it. “What do you want?” There wasn’t any question that Sean had maneuvered to see Sloan. Max had made that clear.