The Cop

“Let’s start with the short, and we’ll flesh it out later.”

“Well, I grew up in Dallas.”

“Big family?”

“I had a younger sister, but she died when I was in junior high. Leukemia.”

“Parents?”

“One of each,” she said. “My mom is president of a bank, and my dad is a biology professor at SMU.”

His eyebrows went up. “Interesting. Did you go to SMU?”

“Nope. I went to the University of Texas. Your brother Frank’s fiancée and I were sorority sisters there. How about you?”

“I never joined a sorority.”

Kelly smiled. “I meant where did you go to school?”

“Sam Houston in Huntsville. It has the best criminal justice department in the state. Why did you decide to become a doctor?”

“I’m not sure. Probably because I was always good at science, and I wanted to help people. Maybe losing my little sister had something to do with it.” She got up and poured coffee and brought the brownies over to where they were sitting. “Why did you become a cop?”

“It’s in the genes. All the Outlaws are cops of one sort or another.”

“I haven’t read anything in the research that suggests career choice is genetic.” She polished off her first brownie and reached for another. “These are good. Mary Beth is a great cook.”

“Yep. J.J.’s a lucky man. How did you get from sorority girl to doctor to here?”

“I went to medical school in Houston and did my internship and residency there and stayed on to work for a while. I learned that one of the doctors in Naconiche was retiring, and I applied to work with him and take his place. And here I am.”

“You never married?”

“Nope. I never had time. You?”

“Once. It didn’t take. I learned I’m not the marrying kind.”

For some reason Kelly’s heart sank, which was silly. She barely knew the man. And as soon as he was rehabilitated, he’d go back to Houston. Nothing about him indicated that he was a candidate for a relationship. Still, she had a mighty urge to swan dive into those marvelous, mysterious eyes.

She stood. “I’ve got to run. You need to rest, and I have to check on a couple of patients at the hospital. Need anything before I go?”

“Not a thing. Say, I want to pay you for the stuff you bought, but I don’t have any money or a checkbook. You take a credit card?”

She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I charged the clothes to you at Olsen’s, and the groceries are on me.”

“Thanks, Red.”

“Kelly.”

“Kelly. Come back and visit sometime.”

“I will.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a promise.”

As soon as she left Kelly realized that she’d left her sweater behind. Oh, blast it! Now both her jacket and her sweater were there. Freudian slip? An excuse to return? Maybe. Cole was an intriguing man, and she couldn’t deny that she was affected by him. She would drop by tomorrow night after aerobics class and pick up her forgotten items.

COLE DECIDED he wanted another cup of coffee, but he quickly learned that he couldn’t carry a full mug and navigate with it and the walker back to the recliner. He cursed and drank the coffee standing up. When he finished he noticed the brown sweater hanging on the back of the straight chair.

He picked the soft garment up and sniffed it. A faint scent of spices and field flowers. The material smelled of her—just like the jacket she’d left behind. He hung the sweater over his walker and moved back to his recliner to sit down. Wadding the sweater in both hands, he buried his face in it and breathed deeply. He was bone tired, but not too tired to imagine what it would feel like to have the woman under the fabric. He felt himself stir.

Oh, hell! he thought, disgusted with his behavior. Now that he was a cripple, he was turning into one of those perverts who got off on fetishes. He started to throw the sweater across the room, but he couldn’t quite make himself let go. He dropped it across his lap and reached for another brownie.

Chapter Three

He’d learned a lot in the past twenty-four hours, Cole thought as he poured coffee into the Thermos. Mostly tips from Dan Robert during his therapy session. Now he had snap-on bags and a basket on his walker that reminded him of the gear on his bike when he was a kid. He stuck the Thermos in one of the side pockets, a mug into another and made it back to his chair without worrying about spills.

B.D. and Curtis had driven him to the hospital that afternoon, and his dad had picked him up. He’d been too tired to talk much with his dad. In fact, he’d fallen asleep soon after they returned to the motel. He hadn’t awakened until J.J. stopped by about five. He hadn’t stayed long.

Sometime later, the doorbell rang, and Cole opened the door between the apartment and the office. He smiled when he saw Kelly Martin standing there in a bright green sweat suit, her hair wadded on top of her head and held by a big yellow clip.

“You look like a leprechaun.”

She grinned. “Leprechauns are wee folks. At close to six feet, I’m more like the Jolly Green Giant.”

“You’re not six feet tall.”

“Near enough. I’m almost five-ten.”

“That’s two inches, and two inches can make a world of difference.”

She raised her eyebrows, an amused expression on her face. “Really?”

“Yep. If that bullet in my chest had been two inches over, I’d be dead.”

“And if you’d been wearing a protective vest, you wouldn’t have had more than a bruise.”

“I wasn’t planning on a shoot-out.”

She touched his face and ran her fingers lightly along his jaw. “You’ve shaved.”

“Yeah. This morning. Want a cup of coffee?”

“Thanks, but I don’t have time. I’m on my way to aerobics class next door. I hope we don’t disturb you. The music can get pretty loud.”

“I’ll manage.”