Chapter Twelve
The next morning dawned bright and sunny, but the mood at the festival was dim. Word spread quickly that the pie-booth fire had been set deliberately, but the culprit was still at large. As a result, everyone was on edge, worried their booth might be next. Some parents kept their children home, and the carnival area was empty. It didn’t help that the smell of burnt wood lingered in the air, and red tape surrounded the area to keep people out.
With Rafe by her side, Sara spent the afternoon helping his family run the spice booth. She spent much of the day on a stool behind the booth thanks to the aching pain in her knee, a reminder that she had more to worry about than Morley sending men after her.
“What’s on your mind?” Rafe asked, coming up beside her.
She blew out a long breath. “My knee hurts. Up till now, I’ve kept busy enough that I haven’t had time to dwell on it.” She perched her chin in her hands and sighed.
He settled into an empty stool. As usual, he knew when to talk and when to back off, and right now he remained silent, offering support with his mere presence. But the anxiety she’d begun to feel still clawed inside her chest.
“If I don’t have my career, who am I?” The thought had occurred to her when she’d reinjured her knee and remained, always there, hovering.
“You’re a smart woman who is a lot more than her career. What did you major in?”
She thought back to her days in college. “Criminal justice and sociology.”
“All great stepping-stones. And you have great people skills. You could do counseling, be a social worker…. You could work within the department and not on the street.”
“A desk job?” she asked, horrified.
“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” he asked, ignoring her panicked question. No doubt because he couldn’t imagine being sidelined, either.
She shrugged. “I have to schedule one when I get back to the city. But I know my body, and it’s not healing right. I can feel it.” She rubbed her swollen knee, an ever-present reminder that her future might be far different than the one she’d envisioned or planned.
Rafe wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Don’t panic until you have to,” he suggested. “I know you’re scared, but I guarantee you’ll find something equally rewarding if you can’t return to active duty.”
“Rafe!” Aunt Vi’s distinctive voice called out. Aunt Vi ran over to them, waving her hands.
“Sorry,” Rafe said.
Sara shook her head. “I was about finished with the subject anyway.” And she was grateful for the interruption.
Rafe rose, then held out a hand, helping Sara to her feet. “What’s going on?” he asked his aunt.
“Pirro has been acting very odd. He’s so quiet, which isn’t at all like him,” Vi said.
Rafe inclined his head. “I noticed the same thing last night. But the fire was enough to upset him, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but he’s been acting strangely for a while. It’s just worse now. And when we should be pulling together as a family, he’s more distant.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose loudly.
“Maybe you’re worrying for nothing,” Sara said. “I realize it’s none of my business, but did you ever think of talking to your husband? I don’t know anything about being married, but I know plenty about divorce, and secrets are damaging to any relationship.”
“Which is why I asked Rafe to find out what’s going on with him!”
“Or you could just ask him outright.” Sara tried again to reason with Rafe’s aunt.
“I couldn’t! What if he is cheating? Do you think he’d tell me? And if he isn’t, I’ll do irreparable damage to our relationship by questioning his integrity! I need to know what I’m dealing with first,” the other woman said firmly.
Rafe grasped her hand in his stronger one. “I already promised to look into it for you, but you have to promise me you’ll calm down. Getting worked up like this isn’t good for you.”
Vi sniffed back tears. “I’ll try.”
“No, you’ll do it, or else I’m not helping you. You know you have to watch your blood pressure,” he gently chided.
Sara couldn’t contain her smile. Rafe liked to complain about his meddling, overreactive family, but deep down he adored them, and they relied on him for so much. Which was why he preferred living away from here, she realized now. When he was in town, he gave whatever they needed, but he had to leave to regroup, too.
“Okay, I promise.” Vi straightened her shoulders. “I’ll calm down, but only because I know you’re in charge.” She drew a deep, visible breath. “Okay. Calm. You see? Now I’m going home to soak in a warm tub. And maybe when Pirro finally gets home, I can entice him into bed,” she said with a dreamy sigh.
“Aunt Vi!” Rafe gave an exaggerated shudder.
Ignoring him, the woman walked away, humming.
Rafe groaned. “I swear sometimes I think she’ll drive me to drink,” he muttered.
Sara laughed. “She’s a character. I hope she’s wrong about Pirro.”
“I do, too. There’s nothing I believe in more than fidelity.”
Sara reached out and touched his cheek. “Angel told me about your father,” she said softly. “It couldn’t have been easy for you or your family.”
“It wasn’t.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he struggled to explain, hating the memories that came back to him. “My mother would pretend to be strong for us during the day, then at night, she’d cry herself to sleep. I wanted to hate him,” he said of his father. “But when he came home and made things work, I settled for promising myself I’d never be like him.”
She grasped his hand, knowing how hard the admissions must be for him.
“Let’s walk.” She guided him away from the family booth and any prying eyes or ears. She didn’t ask questions, either. She waited for him to talk when he was ready.
They strode down Main Street, toward where he’d parked his car hours earlier. “You want to know the ironic thing?” he finally asked.
“What’s that?”
“Right before I switched shifts and stopped being your partner, I nearly followed in his footsteps.”
“How?”
“By cheating on my fiancée with you.”
Sara opened her mouth, then closed it again, shocked by his words. She could still remember the way he had looked at her while he was buried deep inside her body. She’d been so shaken by the wealth of emotions he made her feel, and now this admission. He’d left their partnership to avoid acting on his feelings for her. The thought both thrilled and panicked her at the same time.
She moistened her dry lips. “But we never even came close to kissing. Or to admitting we had chemistry.”
“But we wanted to.” He met her gaze, a knowing look in his eyes. “And if I’d stuck around, it was only a matter of time before we did.”
Sara shook her head, everything in her rebelling at his words. “I’m sorry, but I can’t jump to the same conclusion as you. We wouldn’t have acted on it.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because I know you. You have more honor and integrity than anyone else I know. More self-restraint, too. You’d have to have it in spades be a hostage negotiator.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” A grim smile settled over his lips.
“You’re welcome. Now, quit being so hard on yourself,” she said, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“If you say so.”
Sara shivered despite the summer sun beating down on her from overhead.
They climbed into his car and headed back to his house to shower and change for the wine tasting that night. Sara remained silent, deep in thought. She had a new understanding of this man and his feelings for her. Whether she could handle them or not was something else entirely.
The wine tasting was held at a town park, the land donated by a wealthy vineyard owner who’d had a part in organizing this annual event. Tents had been erected and placed around the area to help shade the event-goers from the heat until the sun finally went down well past 8:00 p.m. Hundreds of wine vendors from the Finger Lakes area showcased their wines.
Sara held Rafe’s warm hand inside hers as they made their way through the mass of people. She’d managed to avoid any intimacy between them while they were home and was still working on shoring up her defenses. Never before had she felt vulnerable to a man, and though she’d gone into this thing with Rafe knowing it was risky, she’d never imagined that sex could lead to such complications. Not for a woman who prided herself on moving on without looking back.
And she had more important things to concentrate on than emotional attachments. So far neither she nor Rafe had noticed or felt anything out of the ordinary. No odd people watching her, just a lot of strangers milling around.
“Is it my imagination or is it twice as crowded tonight compared to earlier this afternoon?” she asked him.
“It’s not your imagination at all. And it’ll only get worse as the weekend goes by. Friday midday brings in stragglers who can take the time off from work to get here for the opening festivities. By Friday evening, you’ve got people who left work early, and by Saturday, things are in full swing,” Rafe explained.
She tried unsuccessfully to glance beyond the bodies into the individual booths to see what they were giving away. Frustrated, she gave up. “I’m not really a wine connoisseur, but how do you compare tastes at an event so crowded?”
“You don’t. Hang on.” He pushed through the mass of people and returned with a plastic cup of white wine. “When the festival first started, it was more about actual wine tasting and comparison. Lately, it’s become a drinking, partying event.”
She laughed. “Works for me.” She raised her plastic cup.
“Me, too. So, when in Rome…” He lifted his cup. “To…” He trailed off, obviously stumped.
“To friends with benefits,” she said, touching her cup to his and solidifying what they were to each other by saying it aloud.
She’d been so thrown by his comment about having feelings for her while still engaged, by the way he’d looked at her while he was buried deep inside her body, so frightened by the wealth of emotions he’d made her feel, she had to gather her defenses.
He stared at her, dumbfounded. His eyes, once warm, frosted over. “Thank you for the reminder.” He straightened his shoulders, his emotional walls firmly in place.
It was what she wanted, what she needed to do for herself, and yet the sudden chill between them scared her more than the emotions that had swamped her earlier. “Rafe…”
“There’s a deejay beyond the tent. Let’s go listen to music,” he said, then clasped her hand and headed out of the crowd and the tents.
The closer they got to the open arena, the louder the music became, geared more toward the young kids, with what Sara recognized as Top 100 music keeping things hopping. And though Rafe remained by her side, there was no warmth between them anymore, no relaxed enjoyment of their time together.
She’d blown that in one selfishly spoken, fear-induced toast.
Sara didn’t kid herself, either. If not for his promise to the captain to help keep her safe, Rafe would walk away and leave her behind. But Rafe was a stand-up, honorable guy. And he deserved a lot better than a commitment-phobic woman like her.
The next hour flew by in a blur of people, introductions and wine being passed around by different distributors who wanted people to taste their product. Sara had no time alone with Rafe, and he made a point of keeping busy talking to his friends and neighbors—and of introducing her as his ex-partner visiting from the city.
Not even as his friend.
Her heart lodged in her throat, pain she herself had caused nearly swallowing her whole. Just when Sara thought she couldn’t stand his aloofness anymore, the deejay suddenly began to speak into the microphone, capturing the crowd’s attention.
“I’d like to get this party started! I want more people on the dance floor, so if I say Snowball, you all know what to do!” The music immediately switched into high gear, and people began to couple up to dance.
Rafe grabbed Sara, keeping his word to stick close. He held on to her hand, doing the obligatory dance while keeping the pace slow, careful to watch out for her knee.
It was the first chance she’d had to get him alone, and though she wanted to apologize or at least try to explain her thoughtless words earlier, words failed her. She couldn’t just launch into a bumbling explanation of how much he meant to her, but she couldn’t allow herself to feel more.
“What’s Snowball?” she blurted out instead. She’d work her way up to the apology.
Rafe wasn’t in the mood to talk, but better to discuss the type of dance than get into a discussion of feelings. She obviously had none.
“Every few minutes, the deejay says Snowball and the music stops long enough for everyone to switch partners.” Which meant it was probably time for him to get Sara out of here, he thought.
He wasn’t looking forward to being alone with her in his house, where anything they did together was a reminder that they were just friends with benefits. Even now, the words stung.
He shouldn’t have been shocked by her proclamation. Even when they’d made love, he’d known the minute she realized there was more going on between them than sex. That second when they’d locked gazes and more passed between them, she’d panicked and attempted to pull back, but even then, she’d asked him to make love to her.
And he had.
Afterward, he’d refused to let his mind go anyplace but forward, and her words had been like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He ought to thank her for the cold shock of reality before he deluded himself even more.
“Snowball!” the deejay called out.
Shit. Rafe tried to hang on to Sara’s hand, but his brother immediately cut in, leaving Rafe with no choice but to switch partners and dance with Angel while keeping an eye on Sara from a distance.
“Uh-oh. You look like you want to kill someone,” Angel observed.
He frowned. “Sorry. I was just thinking it’s time to get out of here. The crowds are getting to be a little much.”
“I don’t blame you for being worried about her. Rafe, I really am sorry I let the Bachelor Blogger know where to find her.”
“I know that. You didn’t mean any harm.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “Sara’s lucky to have you. I hope you know what a good thing you have and don’t let her get away,” Angel said.
Rafe shook his head, amazed by his sister-in-law. Separated from her husband, Angel had every reason to be bitter and disillusioned about relationships, yet she still believed in romance and forever.
Unlike Sara.
“Go cut in on Nick,” Angel suggested.
“In a minute. Is everything okay with you?” They both knew he was referring to Nick.
“Things seem to be looking up, but I take one minute at a time.” She smiled as they kept up with the beat.
“Snowball!”
“Bye!” Angel said, twirling away.
Rafe noticed one of her boarders grabbed Angel next, and he intended to get Sara before the other one zeroed in on her. But an old high-school girlfriend swooped in on Rafe first, and because they hadn’t talked in a while, she refused to take the hint and free him up.
“Snowball!”
He looked around for Sara and noticed her with a local. A woman who said her name was Joy grabbed hold of him for a few minutes before they were separated by the deejay.
“Snowball!”
This time when Rafe glanced around for Sara, too many other couples blocked his view. Panic consumed him, and he ducked out on the next waiting woman and began a hunt for Sara, pushing past old couples, young couples, people he knew and too many he didn’t while he roamed the grassy dance floor. It took what felt like forever for him to locate her, and when he did, she wasn’t with a dance partner, either.
Pale and seemingly frantic, her gaze darted around warily, looking for him.
“Sara! I’m right here!”
She turned, catching sight of him, and he knew immediately something was wrong.
“What happened?”
“Not you! I’m looking for him!”
“Who?”
She strained to look past him.
He grabbed her shoulders. “Hang on. Take a breath and talk to me.”
She nodded. “I was dancing with Nick. Then, someone I didn’t know, but he could have been my grandfather, and he was sweet, and then Biff, and then another man…” She narrowed her gaze. “Young, dark hair, white T-shirt, scruffy like he hadn’t shaved.”
“That sounds like half the men here.”
“It was quick. The quickest dance of the night. Unmemorable except for what he said. Anywhere, anytime. I told you so.” She shook her head. “That’s exactly what was in the note left at my apartment. We can get to you anywhere, anytime.”
“We’re getting out of here,” Rafe said.
Sara didn’t argue.
Their personal problems took a backseat to the real and present danger. The Snowball dance and the partner switch had been a nice break from the intensity of being with Rafe, and Sara had even managed to put the danger factor aside for a little while. Until the stranger had whispered in her ear.
She shivered at the memory.
It dawned on her, as it had after the crisis on the roof, that being a cop in charge of keeping someone else safe was a whole lot different than being the one directly threatened. Once the adrenaline of the chase had disappeared and she’d lost the man in the crowd, panic had set in, but now, back at Rafe’s, she wasn’t scared: she was angry.
She changed into her pajamas and climbed under the covers. Outside Rafe’s bedroom, she heard noises from the kitchen. She wondered if he’d sleep in here again or if he was angry enough at her to use the spare room. She wouldn’t blame him if he did, but she’d like it a lot more if he put his feelings aside and came in, if for no other reason than to keep her company. His big bed was cold and lonely without him.
She turned over to shut off the lamp on the nightstand when she heard a knock at the door.
She turned back around, turning the light on. “Come in.”
Rafe stepped into the room. “I wanted to check on you before I turned in.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Although looking at him all sexy and disheveled in his unbuttoned jeans and faded T-shirt, she was anything but. She was needy and aching for him to hold her.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Are you really going to sleep in the other room because of what I said earlier?”
“Friends with benefits might suit your lifestyle, but I don’t do meaningless sex, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise just to make you feel better. So, yes, I’m going to sleep in the other room,” he said, meeting her gaze with a cold one of his own.
Too bad she knew him so well. Rafe wasn’t as cool as he pretended. Fire burned in his gaze, anger warring with desire.
He wanted her. And he hated himself for it.
“We agreed on no strings,” she said, the words sounding weak and pathetic, even to her.
Rafe shook his head. “We didn’t agree on anything except that we wanted each other.” He’d never agreed to keep his feelings out of the mix.
He’d known going in that would be an impossible proposition.
Alone in his large bed, wearing nothing but one of those flimsy, barely there outfits she preferred, she appeared soft and vulnerable. He knew better. The woman had a heart of steel to be able to deny there was anything more going on between them.
Not that it mattered. Even now, when he was so angry he wanted to shake her, he was still drawn to her in every way imaginable.
“The alarm company is coming first thing Monday to upgrade the system. But for now, at least, it’s set, so you can sleep soundly,” he said, changing the subject.
“We need to talk about what happened tonight and what we’re going to do about it.”
“We have all day tomorrow. Between the fire and the warning you received tonight, there’s no way we’re going back to the festival tomorrow. We need to wait until all the visitors leave and things get back to normal. Then we’ll be able to spot someone who doesn’t belong here.”
She nodded. “True. And I guess that’s a plan in and of itself.”
“I guess it is.” He gripped the doorknob.
It was time for him to leave before he did something stupid, like climb into bed with her and allow her to pretend he meant nothing to her at all.
“Good night, Sara.”
She met his gaze with a silent, imploring look.
It took all his strength to turn around and walk away.