For the first time in a long while he thought of cheerleaders.
If he hadn't known better, based on some nagging bodily discomforts, he'd have been tempted to suspect the whole night had been some sort of wild erotic fantasy. A wet dream. On steroids.
Lord help him, at least that thought he did remember to block.
Tierney said. ''You made coffee? Thank you.' Her smile was like an accolade. He felt as if he'd just been knighted by the queen. 'Are you hungry?'
'Like a wolf,' he growled, belatedly hoping she'd miss-or at least ignore-the double meaning.
He sat, sipping but not tasting his coffee, and watched her while she fixed Jeannette instant oatmeal with brown sugar and butter, then got out a bowl and a box of Cheerios for herself. She offered to make him something- eggs. French toast, maybe?-but he managed to mumble something to the effect that the Cheerios would be fine. It had been a long time since he'd eaten Cheerios for breakfast.
It was while he was shoveling in spoonfuls of milk and a kids' cereal, listening to an old lady crooning contentedly to her own breakfast, and smiling across the table at the woman with whom he'd just enjoyed the most passionate night of his life, that it came to Wade: he was happy. At that moment, happier than he could remember being in a very long time. Maybe his whole life.
About the time Wade was chasing down the last floating Cheerio, Jeannette got up from the table and wandered off, having forgotten, he assumed, about the remaining half of her breakfast. Resisting the temptation to pick up his bowl and drink the rest of the milk, the way he and Matt used to do when they were kids, he carried the bowl to the sink and exchanged it for the coffeepot. He refilled his own cup and topped off Tierney's, then returned to his chair, picked up his coffee and looked across the table at her.
She gazed back at him, which he found both unsettling and refreshing. Most women, he thought, probably wouldn't know what to do with their eyes the morning after a night like that. Not that he had anything to compare this particular morning after with, the night in question being pretty much unparalleled in his experience.
He let out a breath in a long sigh. 'Miss Tee, what are we going to do about this?'
She didn't seem to be able to answer, although he saw her throat work and ripple a few times. But she refused to look away, didn't try to avoid his eyes, and for some reason the fact that she wouldn't let herself off the hook touched him.
'Maybe,' he said in a gentler tone, 'what I should be asking is…what do you
Now she did look away, a guilty ducking of her head and lowering of her lashes to veil her eyes, and a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to hide a smile behind a quickly raised coffee cup.
He laughed. 'Oh.,yeah. Me, too.'
After a brief but humid silence, Tierney gave her head a determined shake and looked up at him. 'I'm sorry, that wasn't fair to you. Wade. I do know what you're asking. We have a professional relationship to consider.'
He nodded, watching her closely. 'We do. But…something as good as this-and I don't know about you, but for me, that was…as good as it gets. I mean, beyond good. It was-'
She was laughing now, cheeks pink and eyes teary. 'Yeah, me, too.'
After another of those respectful-awed-silences. Wade shifted in his chair. Shifted gears, serious again. 'I guess what I'm asking, is…I think last night happened because you were vulnerable, and maybe I took advantage of that-'
'You didn't.'
'Mmm…' The pass, the opportunity to excuse his behavior, was tempting. He shrugged it off, leaned forward, his voice low and tense. 'Maybe. But either way, just in case you were thinking that was a one-time thing. I'd hate to think it has to end here just because maybe it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Something this good… damn it, we're good together. Miss Tee. I don't know why, but we are. We can't ignore that.'
'No,' she whispered.
He saw something in her eyes that made his chest clench. 'But?'
She shook her head, worked her throat and looked bravely straight into his eyes again. 'But…you have The Job, and I have The Gift. Neither of those things makes for a very optimistic outlook for…whatever this is or might become between us.'
'Yeah,' he agreed, narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw, determined to be as brave as she was, 'I'll grant you, cops do tend to be lousy at relationships.'
'And,' she went on. 'how would you like having to always guard your emotions, twenty-four-seven?'
He smiled crookedly. 'Being a cop, I've always pretty much done that anyway.'
She acknowledged that with a smile that flickered like a faulty lamp. 'Then there's Jeannette. She's only going to get worse, Wade. Harder to deal with. I'll need to keep a constant watch-'
He had no idea what he'd have replied to that. His cell phone, which he'd remembered to put back in its holster when he'd donned his pants, chose that moment to vibrate, startling them both. He unhooked it, glanced at the Caller ID, then punched it on. 'Yeah-Callahan.'
Tierney watched his face harden as he listened, but she couldn't read him. He was blocking her completely now, and she felt sorry, though not so sure she should be.
It was a short conversation, and on Wade's part, consisted mostly of monosyllables. Then, 'On my way,' he said, and disconnected. He let out a breath and looked at her.
'Another murder?' she asked softly.
'No. Thank you, God. But we've got a suspect.' He pushed back from the table and tilted his head in the general direction of the bathroom. 'Mind if I-'
'Of course not. Do you want to shower?'
He was on his feet, now, tucking his phone back in its holster. 'I need to go home and get clean clothes, so I'll shower there.' He paused to throw her a quick, frowning glance-he was all cop now. 'Is there someone you can get to stay with your grandmother?'
She opened her mouth to answer, but he rushed on.
'We've got a warrant to search the suspect's house- last known address, anyway-nobody seems to be there at the moment.' He was moving away from her with quick, purposeful strides. She followed him into the living room and stood with her arms wrapped across her waist while he picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. 'It'd be helpful if you could be there. Absent any concrete evidence, you might be able to tell if we've got the right guy, at least.'
The image of a young police officer's mutilated body flashed across her mind, and with it, like a series of blows inside her head, the terrible fear and pain that had been her final moments. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.
Sympathy, regret, anguish and concern were all there in the way he looked at her. He could keep her from 'hearing' his emotions, it seemed, but had forgotten to veil his eyes.
She gathered the feelings and hurled them at him with all her might, like spears. But of course he hadn't The Gift. He couldn't know.
She drew a shuddering breath. 'The girl who helps out in the gallery watches Gran sometimes. Just give me a minute to call her.'
Chapter 9
Tierney sat enveloped in silence as Wade drove his unmarked police sedan through Portland's lazy Saturday- morning traffic. The silence was deep and profound, a silence of feelings as well as words.
She knew how much effort it cost him to break it when he finally threw her a glance and muttered, 'I'm sorry about this. I really am.'
'I know.' She said it without thinking, and felt stung when he gave back a bark of sardonic laughter.
