Mr. Cop: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 2

  Nope. Elka was the kind of trouble a man lived to regret, and I already had three lifetimes worth of regret. No thank you.

  “You about done in here?” Ty strolled into my office with a bland expression on his face.

  “Yep. A few minutes and I’ll be headed home.” Alone.

  “How did things go with the stranded motorist?” If I hadn’t been so tired or distracted, I probably would have picked up on something strange in his tone.

  “She refused my help,” I told him without looking up. “Several times. So eventually I left her to wait for Rusty.” I smiled to myself, thinking she probably waited at least three hours until Rusty caught a fish big enough to garner bragging rights until his next trip. On the heels of that smile came the guilt. Dammit.

  Ty gave me that look—the disappointed dad look that I’d hated even when it had come from my own dad. When he was around, anyway. “Seriously?” Arms folded over his massive chest, military-issue biceps just as intimidating as the close-cropped haircut he still wore. “You left a woman stranded on the side of the road knowing Rusty was fishing and might forget about her altogether?”

  “She called and spoke to him. Rusty told her he’d be there soon. Should I have waited with her?”

  “Damn right you should have. Rusty got drunk and fell asleep on his boat. Derek called because he was saying something about the stranded girl waiting for him.”

  Shit. “She’s still out there.” It wasn’t a question. Somehow, I knew she was sitting inside her little green hatchback. Waiting.

  “Do you even care?” He shook his head and glared at me one last time. “I’ll go take care of it myself.” He turned away but stopped in the doorway. “This is unacceptable, Antonio. You know that.”

  I did know it and that only pissed me off more. I stood and grabbed my belt. “I’ll do it.”

  “You should have done it when I asked. Finish your paperwork and go home.” His frustration was a palpable thing between us and I couldn’t blame him at all. I screwed up—letting the pixie get to me to the point that I’d walked away from her, but who in their right mind would send help away when they clearly needed it?

  “Yeah, I should have.”

  Ty gave a short nod and left—a sign of just how angry he was. As one of my closest friends, we gave each other crap all the time but his anger today was new. I deserved it, so I just turned back to the stack of papers in front me and worked until I could no longer feel my fingers. Then headed home.

  Alone.

  Most days, that was how I liked it, but today the house felt too big and too quiet. The family-centric neighborhood had already folded up the sidewalks and turned in for the night. The faint muffle of TV shows and music wafted through slightly opened windows, and blue light flashed from several windows. I couldn’t stand the silence for too long and when the phone rang as I stepped out of the shower, I sighed in relief before answering. “Vargas.”

  “Oh really, Antonio? Is that how you answer the phone? It’s so stiff and formal.”

  “Hey, Mom.” I rolled my eyes, not bothering to respond to her diatribe on my phone manners. “If I ever stopped to look at the ID screen, maybe I wouldn’t answer.”

  She laughed, the melodic sound making me smile. “Then I’d just pop by whenever I wanted. How was your day, honey?”

  My mom was a force of nature and a force to be reckoned with. Her only goal was to see both of her children settled, married, and giving her plenty of grandchildren.

  “It could have been better.” I didn’t tell her about the pixie because Mom would give me more hell than Tyson had. “How about you? Good day?” I listened while she told me all about going to breakfast with Betty and Helen. I opened and closed every single one of my cabinets in search of food.

  “We went to the senior center to paint some of the older girls’ nails. They love that sort of thing, you know?” She went on and on about who was crushing on who, and who was flirting with someone else’s crush, all while I cursed my lack of attention to my fridge.

  There was nothing but beer, a few slices of cheese, and some questionable deli meat.

  “Did you do anything productive?” I asked.

  “Other than search for your future bride? No, that keeps me pretty busy.”

  I groaned. “Mom, please.”

  She laughed again. “Oh, don’t you ‘Mom please’ me. I have a right to meddle in your life since I carried you in my body for forty-two weeks. Now I need your help with something. I’ll feed you in exchange.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  “That’s my boy.” I could hear the grin in her voice because, once again, she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.

  “If there’s some spinster there to join us, I’m warning you now that I’m not staying.”

  “It’s just us,” she said. “This time.” Before I could say another word, she ended the call. Crafty old lady.

  Happy that I didn’t have to fend for myself for dinner, I slipped on my favorite faded-blue Chuck Taylors and made the short drive to Mom’s house—the home where my sister and I grew up. Like always, I went in through the front door. “Mom?”

  “In the kitchen!”

  I found her sitting at the kitchen table reading from her tablet, a glass of wine beside her. “Unwinding after a hard day?”

  She arched a honey brown eyebrow my way and took a long sip from her wine before she spoke. “This drink is for every day I had to worry about you over in New Orleans.”

  I swallowed down a groan because that was not the conversation I wanted to have. Again. Ever. “You needed some help?”

  She nodded and pointed me towards the stove, whose oven door needed fixing. She got started on dinner. Since I was there, I changed a few blown bulbs and tightened a few handles on her cabinets. “You don’t need to do all that, honey.”

  “I know I don’t but you’re my best girl, Mom.”

  “As much as I love that, I wish you had a best girl closer to your own age.”

  “How long until dinner?” The answer wasn’t soon enough, so I went through the house, tightening every damn screw I set my eyes on just to put some distance between Mom and the questions about my love life.

  Twenty minutes later, we sat down to a table filled with steaming Salisbury steak with onion gravy, buttery mashed potatoes, and sweet peas. “Worth the inquisition?”

  I took a few bites and closed my eyes as the flavors exploded on my tongue. “Depends on how much ammo you have left.”

  She laughed again. “Stop being so dramatic and tell me about your love life.”

  “No love life to speak of—you know that.”

  “No. What I know is that you don’t date anyone in town, and you don’t bring women home. That doesn’t mean you don’t keep company with the opposite sex.”

  She was right, but that wasn’t something a guy wanted to talk about with his mother. “I’m not seeing anyone, Mom.” Hadn’t been out with a woman in months because I couldn’t muster up the energy or the give a damn to do so.

  “Well maybe this calendar business will help you find a nice girl. Seeing you at your best—and in your uniform too—they’ll fall at your feet. If you smiled a little more.”

  “I smile plenty.”

  Mom put down her fork and folded her arms. “Not enough to give me some grandbabies.”

  I walked right into that one. “There’s still Cait,” I said hopefully.

  “Yeah right.” She scoffed. “I have to get her back to Tulip first and then I’ll work on getting some grandchildren out of her too. But, Antonio, you’re older and it’s past time for me to bounce some babies on these knees before they get too old.”

  I barked out a laugh that. “Like you’d dare let your knees do something as subversive as get old.” She was too damn stubborn for that. She was also too stubborn to give up on what she felt was her due: grandkids.

  “That’s true but still it would be nice to have kids running around the house again.” The wistf
ulness in her voice didn’t go unnoticed but I didn’t comment.

  “Thanks for dinner, Mom. It was delicious, as always.” Nothing beat my mom’s cooking. It was something everyone said, but with her, it was true. She’d learned to make many Colombian dishes to please Dad—when he’d bothered to show up, anyway. He disappeared altogether when I was about twelve years old. In the years since, she’d brushed up on her southern cuisine in an effort, I was sure, to guarantee I didn’t stray too far from home again.

  She groaned and rolled her eyes, which was ridiculous, but it was better than the on-tap sadness she could produce with ease. “Oh fine. I’ll stop. For now.” I didn’t miss the emphasis because she didn’t want me to. Now that Ry and Preston were happily matched up, the whole town had gone matchmaking crazy and I intended to steer clear of it all. “But I will say this, Antonio: you are a good man. No matter what you think, you are. I’m your mother so you have to listen to me. You deserve to have it all. You really do.”

  I didn’t know about that but arguing with her was useless. She didn’t know the important stuff. She didn’t know how I’d failed to protect the woman I loved—who, it turned out, I hadn’t known as well as I thought. Mom didn’t know and, if I could help it, she never would. “Thanks for believin’ in me, Mom.” She’d always been on my side and in my corner, even when she probably shouldn’t have. I loved her for it.

  At the door, I wrapped her in my arms and squeezed tight.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s that for?” she asked.

  “For being the best mom a guy could ask for.”

  Her cheeks turned pink and she brushed away a stray tear. “I love you too, son. Now get on out of here before I forget I promised to stop meddling.”

  With a long, slightly terrified laugh, I walked to my car in the driveway and waited until Mom was safely inside before I backed out. Tulip was a small town but a little bit of caution went a long way.

  Though it was barely eight, most of the town was in for the night, with the exception of a few restaurants and the only bar in town, Black Thumb. For a second, I thought of stopping in, grabbing a drink and a chat with whoever was inside. But I was too tired and in no mood for company, so I kept driving until I turned down the familiar tree-lined street where most of the yards were littered with toys and decorated with flowers and lawn ornaments.

  Tulip was such a far cry from New Orleans that, some days, I wondered if those years had been some kind of nightmare. A walking nightmare filled with the worst humanity had to offer until one bright burst of sunshine walked in and made it all bearable. Manageable. Until it wasn’t manageable any longer. Until I had to leave, tail tucked between my legs, and headed home.

  Turning down my block, the first thing I noticed was the trailer parked in the empty cottage across the street from me. Directly across the street from me. A very familiar trailer. When I drove past to turn into my own damn driveway, I saw the daisy that confirmed my worst fears. “Why me?”

  Then I realized it didn’t matter. Tulip was a small town. I couldn’t ignore her, but I could keep an eye on her.

  From a distance.

  Elka

  I’d never lived anywhere other than the house I grew up in. But now, after two hours of unloading boxes from my little trailer and putting them into the rooms where they would live, I understood the universal hatred of moving. It was a long and tedious process and the worst part was, there were no shortcuts. Of course, if I had friends like most normal twenty-four-year-old women, then maybe this part of the job would be done already.

  It didn’t matter. I wasn’t a complainer. Complaining about having no friends wouldn’t magically make them appear, just like complaining about moving the boxes wouldn’t get them into the house any faster. It was a lesson that had been drilled into me from an early age; one I still couldn’t seem to shake. Which was how I ended up with the little silver trailer. I’d taken the time to paint a tie-dye daisy on it because it made it feel like mine. I’d had to get away from those voices who encouraged me to keep quiet and accept my fate, rather than trying to change it.

  Now I was taking steps to make my own fate and to shape my life how I saw fit. It sucked that I had to do it alone, but I preferred to think that was a temporary problem. Once the cute little blue-and-white cottage I’d rented was set up and my workspace was all laid out, maybe there would be time for friends.

  Maybe even a boyfriend. That would be nice. Dating hadn’t been allowed because it was too risky. Too many new people meant germs that could make things worse for Austin. He had been my whole world, so I’d gone along with it happily, not knowing how abnormal it was. How restricting and isolating it had been.

  “That was the past,” I told myself and grabbed another box from the back of the trailer. I set it on the edge before I jumped down to grab it and carry it inside. It was already so warm out and noon was still a couple hours away, making me glad I’d opted for cutoff jean shorts and a light cotton tank top. It wasn’t exactly how I wanted to meet the neighbors but I didn’t think passing out on the front lawn was a great introduction either. With Elton John singing about how lonely it was out in space, I carried more boxes inside and thought of Austin, smiling down on me. Feeling happy and proud that I was taking steps to living. Finally.

  It would take at least a week just to get all the rooms unpacked and arranged how I wanted them. Most of the picture frames and knickknacks were brand new, bought with the dreams of a young girl who wanted more than life had to offer her. Now they had shelves and walls to adorn. I had to figure out how to make it look nice, not cluttered or overwhelming. Time was the one thing I knew I had—barring some kind of catastrophic event—so I would take my time and slowly make this place mine.

  I had a few weeks worth of surplus inventory but I wanted my workspace set up as soon as possible. Even if I only worked a few hours each day, I could keep my inventory stocked enough that there would be no downtime. It took too long to get all the boxes down to the basement where I would work because it was cool and not overly sunny, the perfect environment for my creations.

  The one thing that made moving by myself bearable was that I was in excellent shape. Thanks to a lifetime of eating healthy and more than regular physical activity, I could probably run a marathon and not get winded. At least I could if not for the suffocating Texas heat.

  The sound of the bell ringing startled me; I hadn’t expected any visitors, mostly because I’d never really had any. But that’s what this move was all about so I wiped my damp hands on my shorts as I made my way to the door, realizing at the last moment that I looked like someone who’d spent the morning hauling and unloading boxes. I pulled the door open and stared in shock at the beautiful brunette with green eyes. “Hello?”

  “Hi.” She flashed a welcoming smile that immediately disarmed me. “I’m Penny Ford, Mayor Ashford’s assistant.” She held out a hand and I took it, smiling. This woman was confident and capable.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Elka.”

  “I know. The mayor wanted me to extend his welcome to Tulip and invite you to our upcoming chamber lunch. It’s a small event we do to keep in touch with local business owners, allowing them to network and talk to other business owners.”

  Business owner. Those words didn’t feel like an accurate description of me but I nodded. “I mean, I’m not really a business owner. I just make things.”

  Penny sighed and put a hand on her hip. “Elka’s Essence did more than fifty grand in sales last year and you are the sole owner and operator, correct?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Then I’m sorry to break it to you, sister, but you are a business owner. This will be good for you too. You can meet some people in town and see how you can help one another succeed.” It was an excellent point and based on her smug smile, she knew it.

  “Okay, yes. I would love to attend. Thanks for the invite.” I knew she wasn’t inviting me but it still felt nice. In Washington, I didn’t know any
of our neighbors, but I’d seen them out playing and heard their screams and shouts of joy as they enjoyed their childhoods.

  Maybe this was the first step to changing all that. A lunch with new people.

  Make some connections and maybe even some friends.

  “No problem. Here’s my card. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, even to talk.”

  I accepted the card and stared at her number scrawled on the back of the card. “Seriously? You’d let me call you just to talk?”

  “Why not?” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’ve been here almost two years, so if anyone knows how you’re feeling, it’s me.”

  Right. “Thank you.” I was so choked with emotion, the words barely came out above a whisper.

  “No problem. Welcome to Tulip, Elka.”

  When Penny made her way back to the street, I let a small smile escape. That was a nice interaction with a complete stranger, confirming once again that this was the right decision. Feeling better about things, I went back to unpacking until the trailer was empty.

  Grabbing a bottle of water, I went back out to double-check the trailer was empty before I locked it up. Rusty still hadn’t called me back about picking up my car, which made it impossible to move the trailer from its present spot—a fact that made me groan. Back inside the house, I tried to call Rusty again, but the phone rang and rang. “Dammit!”

  The sound of a fist pounding on my door shocked a scream out of me and it took a second to get my breathing under control. It was an ominous sound and I took my time answering it, happy I’d left the latch on the screen door so there was some distance between me and the angry knocker on the other side. A groan escaped when I opened the door. “Office Vargas, what can I do for you?”

  “Your trailer is blocking the sidewalk,” he barked out, dark brows pulled into an angry V.