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Good question. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
A tiny frown formed on her lips. “Are we crazy, Craig? I mean, nuts for even getting
involved like this.”
He almost smiled, but the gravity of her question hit him. He tucked one strand of
her hair behind her ear. “Probably. This won’t be easy. It’s difficult for a lot of women to
date a SWAT officer. We are on twenty-four seven. All year round.”
Her fingers spread over his stomach, and as she caressed him, he sucked in a breath
at how good it felt.
“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen how it affects Celeste.”
“And I’m not going to just all of a sudden stop worrying about you. I’m
hypersensitive all the time, even when there is no danger.”
Exasperation covered her face. “Are you trying to warn me off?”
“Hell, no. Just dealing with realities here.”
Silently Leigh brushed her fingers over his chest, and his nipples hardened as she
teased them. He sucked in a breath and groaned. “Keep that up and you’ll get more than
you bargained for.”
She grinned. “Think so?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. She leaned forward and
licked one of his nipples. “How does that feel?”
“Fucking fantastic.” She laughed, but didn’t stop the torment. Her small hand slipped
around his rapidly hardening cock. “Oh, God.”
He closed his eyes, his body aching to be deep inside her body again, to see bliss
cross her face. He rolled her over on her back and kissed her deeply until the heat started
to boil in his veins.
Craig pulled back to look deeply into her eyes. The understanding he saw there made
him want her even more.
She cupped his face. “Let’s take this one day at a time. I know you’re a cop, and I
know the realities of that job. I need time, too. I don’t know how I’m going to react every
time you go all bossy on me. And I know you’re going to be bossy again.”
He smiled. “Yeah, probably.”
Craig’s cell phone rang as it lay on the bed stand.
“Shit.” He reached for the bedside light and illuminated the room. He grabbed the
phone. “Hello.”
“MacGilvary?”
At first Craig didn’t process who was on the line. The young voice sounded
frightened and unsure.
“It’s Dane,” the young man said.
“Dane?” Craig came fully awake, poised for action. “What’s wrong?”
“My mom—”
Craig waited and his breath caught. “What about her?”
“She’s uh…I’m at the hospital.”
Anger lifted Craig into straight sitting position. “Are you hurt?”
Craig became aware of Leigh next to him as she sat up in bed.
“No. My mom is. She hit my dad with a baseball bat.”
“Jesus.” Craig winced. He didn’t make a habit of cursing in front of kids, but this
situation came out of left field, no pun intended. “She didn’t hurt you?”
“She swung at me first because I told her I ain’t buying alcohol for her anymore.”
A pang of guilt hit Craig. He’d told the kid to take this course of action. Craig put the
phone on speaker and placed it on the bed stand. He grabbed his jeans.
As Craig dressed he asked, “Then what happened?”
“Dad stepped in front of her and got hit by the bat. In the stomach and head. She was
really pissed. I ran outta the house to my friend next door. They called 911. When Mom
hit Dad, I guess she thought she’d killed him. She took a knife from the kitchen, went in
the bathroom and…”
Craig’s stomach cramped, and he sat on the bed. “What did she do?”
“Slit her wrists.”
Craig closed his eyes and felt Leigh’s hand on his shoulder. “Is she…”
“She ain’t dead. She’s…the EMT guys got to her in time. And Dad, too. They’ll
live.”
Underlying the calm in Dane’s voice, Craig heard a plea. “Dane, stay where you are.
I’ll be right there, all right? Who is with you now?”
“Some lady from an agency.”
“Can I talk with her?”
“Yeah.”
Dane turned the phone over to a woman who identified herself as Miriam Peacock of
Child Protective Services.
“I’m sorry, Deputy MacGilvary. I didn’t realize he was going to call you. I stepped
away a second to check on his parents.”
“I told him he could call me. I busted him, but I think he trusts me. I’d like come
down there and talk with him.”
“I don’t think that’s really necessary.”
Craig’s patience wasn’t good at this time of the morning. For Dane, though, he’d
lose a good night’s sleep. “It’s necessary. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“All right.” The woman still sounded reluctant.
“Miss Peacock, Dane trusts me and right now the kid needs to talk to a familiar face
and someone who will listen and understand—”
“I am trained to listen young people in trouble and to seek refuge for him in these
situations.”
“I agree, and I’m trained to deal with juvenile offenders and can talk on his level. I’ll
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