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  He dropped his own slice of pizza, untouched, and sighed. “I didn’t—”

  “What would you do if you couldn’t be a cop anymore?”

  His eyes narrowed. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not.”

  The finger she pointed at him trembled. “You made that choice, O’Reilly. I didn’t get one.”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. Reaching out, he grasped her wrist and pulled her to him. “The reason for my choice is sleeping upstairs. Yeah, working the records division sucks, but I don’t have to worry about going after a suspect and getting shot. I don’t have to worry about him growing up without me. Come on, Lanie, be realistic. Think about that baby sleeping up there. Would you have gone back to road duty?”

  Her anger and resentment faltered. She shook her head, staring into navy eyes soft with understanding. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s not completely out of the question.” His other hand slipped to the small of her back, massaging in light circles. “You said yourself that the neurologist said sometimes the problems, like yours with numbers, only last a few months. It’s been two months, baby. Give yourself some time.”

  She closed her eyes and blew out a sigh. “I just—”

  “Feel overwhelmed,” he finished for her. Giving in, Lanie relaxed into his warmth. His clean, woodsy smell enveloped her. “You’ve got a right to be.”

  To her horror, tears pricked at her eyelids, and a lump settled in her throat. She swallowed. “I don’t know what else to be besides a cop. And that statement…”

  “We’ll work it out,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “You’re not alone. I’ll be here. I promise.”

  The words scared her death. Promises always ended up broken. Her palms flattened on his back. “I can’t ask that of you.”

  “You’re not asking anything of me. I’m telling you what I intend to do.” Pulling back, he tilted her face up and smiled at her. “I love you, Lanie. Let me take care of you for a while. That’s all you have to do. Let me. Trust me.”

  Didn’t he understand that was like asking her to walk a tightrope blindfolded, not really knowing if the net was there? She shook her head, and hurt bloomed in his eyes. “I don’t think I can.”

  His thumbs smoothed over her cheekbones. Determination darkened his eyes. “I’m not giving up. I won’t walk away, and sooner or later, you’re going to see you can trust me.”

  Staring up at him, Lanie wasn’t sure what frightened her more—stepping out on faith and learning he’d lied, or learning that he could be trusted. If he stayed true to his word, she’d have no more excuses to hide behind. Nothing left to protect her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “The general rule of thumb is two months’ salary.” The blonde salesclerk’s smile rivaled the brightness of the diamond rings sparkling in the jewelry case.

  “Two months, huh?” John lifted an eyebrow at her before he dropped his gaze to the solitaires. Hell, knowing Lanie, she’d rather he just send the money to the hospital. The image of her face on Christmas morning when she’d opened the infinity pendant rose in his mind. Then again, maybe not.

  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. In the glass case, gems glittered in bands of all descriptions—plain, fancy, carved, gold, silver, platinum. He frowned. None of them seemed to suit Lanie or what he wanted with her.

  With a sigh, he pushed a hand through his hair. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing here—except that sometime during a night of tossing in his bed, the bright idea of asking Lanie to marry him had taken hold of his psyche. Needing a way to show her he was in for the long haul, he’d grabbed the notion and hung on. He didn’t have to ask her now—hell, he knew she’d say no—but he could have the ring for when he was more sure of her answer.

  But he wanted a ring that was as unique as the woman he loved. Something you didn’t find every day.

  He glanced up at the patient salesclerk. “Is this all you have?”

  She swept a hand down the display case. “This is our collection of traditional solitaires. We also have a selection of three stone bands, gemstone rings, eternity bands—”

  “Eternity band?” Not infinity, but close enough.

  Her smiled widened, reminding John of a predator sweeping in for the kill. “This way.”

  “Traditionally, these are considered anniversary bands.” She pulled out a tray of rings. Small diamonds encircled each band. “They symbolize the eternity of a relationship.”

  John eyed a platinum band with rectangular stones and tried to picture it on Lanie’s finger. “This is nice.”

  “You have excellent taste.” She lifted the ring and turned it under the light. “Faceted emerald-cut diamonds. Very unique.”

  “Yeah, she is.” He grinned. “I’ll take it.”

  “Lucky as well as unique.”

  Somehow, he doubted the smiling blonde would think so if she knew the whole, sorry story. If anyone was lucky, he was. He’d gotten a second chance.

  In his car, John flipped open the small velvet box and looked at the sparkling band that had cost him more than just two months’ salary. Sunlight glinted off the stones, reminding him of the way the early morning light reflected off the waves outside Lanie’s bedroom window. He hoped, when the time came, that she would see his intent in the ring, would see that he meant to be there forever.

  An unfamiliar feeling curled up in his chest, a lightness he wasn’t used to. Maybe something like waiting for Santa Claus felt like. Something a lot like hope.

  Lanie hurried to pick up the ringing phone before it woke Sonny Buck. He’d fussed all day, and she’d finally gotten him down a short ten minutes ago. “Hello?”

  “Lanie, it’s Dennis.” Dennis’s voice held professionalism laced with the respect of a long term friendship. Working for someone you’d known since high school had its advantages. “How are you doing?”

  “Good. Better.” Lanie leaned against the wall, eyes closed, her stomach clenched. Had her leave run out that quickly? She’d kept in touch with the human resources coordinator, but with her penchant for screwing up numbers lately, who knew?

  “Great.” Dennis cleared his throat. “Listen, I know you’re still recuperating, but I talked to Caitlin the other day and she said you’re almost back to your old self. She mentioned though that you had some concerns about being ready for road duty again.”

  Oh, Lord, here it came. Visions of bankruptcy danced in her head. She swallowed hard. “A few, but—”

  “I don’t want you to worry about that. Haven County takes care of its own—you know that. Anyway, Dee Merida put in her notice yesterday. Her husband is being transferred to Fort Worth, and she’s leaving in a month.”

  “That’s too bad. She does an excellent job.” Lanie wondered what the departure of the department’s media spokesperson had to do with her. The only time she even talked with Dee was if a statement needed to be made regarding one of her cases and the report wasn’t available.

  “I was wondering if you’d like the position, on a trial basis. Maybe three months, then we re-evaluate, see how it works out. If you’re ready to go back on the road then, great. If you want to stay in the media job, that’s good, too. What do you think?”

  Relief bubbled in her veins. “I think it sounds great. Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “All right, then. I’ll have Dee get in touch with you, set up some days for her to go over everything with you, and we’ll work on the transition.”

  Still having a hard time believing the opportunity was real, she made some reply she hoped was appropriate and ended the call. The desire to squeal with delight fizzed in her throat. A real law enforcement-based job with mostly predictable hours. Something that would allow her to support the baby and herself and still be there when he needed her. Too good to be true.

  In her hand, the cordless phone rang again, and she fumbled it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “You sound happy.” John
’s affectionate laughter rumbled against her ear and sent warmth along her veins.

  “I am. Oh, John, I’ve got the best news.” Static cut across the line, and she waited for it to clear. “Where are you?”

  “Sitting in traffic waiting for an accident to be cleared. So what’s the news?”

  The urge to dance in wild circles rushed through her again. She laughed. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  “What makes you think I’m coming over?” he teased. “It’s not one of my nights.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Really.” His voice deepened, and she could just envision the smile quirking at his mouth. “That could be interesting. Tell you what—I’ll shower and change and pick up us up some dinner on the way. What are you in the mood for?”

  You. She shivered. “Whatever you decide is fine.”

  “Okay. Hey, traffic is moving again, so I’d better go.” Silence vibrated on the line. “Love you, Lanie.”

  The connection went dead, and Lanie hugged his words to her for a moment, sure that her life was finally going in the right direction.

  “He’s asleep. Has he been that fussy all day?”

  Lanie glanced up from setting the table as John came down the stairs. “Pretty much, but he’s fine once he settles down to sleep. He took a long nap this afternoon, too.”

  Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his lips in the curve between her neck and shoulder. A stab of desire stung her stomach, and she leaned back into him.

  “So what’s this great news of yours?” he asked.

  “Let’s eat first. This smells wonderful.” She pulled away from him and lifted the containers of Emerson’s crab bisque and seafood pasta out of the bag. “Get some cutlery, would you?”

  “You’re an evil woman.”

  “Yeah, but you love it.”

  “I love you,” he corrected, trying to pull her back into his arms.

  Laughing, she tugged away again. “Food, O’Reilly.”

  A sober expression flitted across his face, but he reached out a finger, touching the silver chain holding her infinity pendant. A smile curved his mouth. “You’re right. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Over dinner, he made her laugh with descriptions of the varied individuals he’d dealt with in the records department that week. Savoring a bite of the sinful bisque, she watched his eyes darken. “What?”

  With an almost-shy grin, he shook his head. “It’s so good to hear you do that again. I missed your laugh, honey.”

  She stared into his expressive eyes, her food forgotten. Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. “What else did you miss?”

  Passion flared in his navy gaze, but he shook his head, chuckling. “Oh, no, you don’t. I want to know what’s going on. What’s the news, baby?”

  She pushed her plate aside and leaned forward, eager to share now. “Do you remember Dee Merida?”

  He nodded, wrapping strands of pasta around his fork. “Your department spokesperson.”

  “She’s moving to Ft. Worth next month.” He looked up, interested, and she grinned. “Dennis called today and offered me the position on a trial basis.”

  “That’s great news.” A wide smile creased his face, and he reached out to squeeze her hand before lacing their fingers together. “See, I told you it would all work out.”

  Heat tingled out from their joined hands. “You love being right, don’t you, O’Reilly?”

  The smile disappeared. He turned their hands, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s a rare thing with you, isn’t it? For me to do something right.”

  She didn’t want the past between them tonight. Her future stretched before her, not as tarnished as before, and she wanted to share that with him. Leaning close, she feathered her fingers over his jaw. “Don’t. It’s all behind us.”

  He didn’t look at her, his gaze still on their linked hands. “Is it? I almost got you and Sonny Buck killed.” He closed his eyes and pressed their hands to his forehead. “God, I have nightmares about that, about what could have happened.”

  An ache grasped her throat. Disentangling her hand from his, she cupped his face with her fingers and turned his face up to hers. “But it didn’t.”

  “I love you.” Arms wrapped around her waist, he pulled her onto his lap, his face buried against her neck.

  I love you. The words trembled on her tongue, but she couldn’t force them out. They hovered in her mind, a talisman that once whispered couldn’t be taken back. Words that would bestow a power she didn’t feel ready to give him.

  Her hands drifted down his back, caressing the sloping muscles. She couldn’t say it yet, but she could show him. “Come upstairs with me.”

  His sigh hummed along her neck. “Are you sure?”

  She pulled back and smiled. “Very.”

  A cry from the nursery dragged Lanie from a sated slumber. Sheets rustled, and John brushed his mouth against her temple. “I’ll check on him.”

  Opening her eyes, she watched him pull on his boxer briefs and walk out of the room. Her body thrummed with satisfaction, and she stretched, a most feminine ache between her legs. Smiling against his pillow, she inhaled his scent, still clinging to the cotton case.

  She really should ask him to move back in. Her body stiffened a little at the fleeting thought. Slow down, Falconetti. You jumped into living with him before. Just take it a day at a time. No rush to commitment.

  Edgy now, she sat up and eyed the clothes strewn about the room. His voice carried from the nursery, soft and soothing, and she slid from the bed. She picked up her clothes and tossed them in the hamper before pulling a T-shirt and yoga pants from the dresser.

  His woodsy scent wafted from his shirt when she picked it up, and she couldn’t resist rubbing it against her face. Laughing at herself, she tossed the shirt on the bed and reached for his jeans. As she lifted them, his change, wallet and a small box tumbled from the pockets, spilling on the rug.

  Throwing the jeans on the bed, she knelt to gather the scattered contents of his pockets. Her fingers closed on the box, the blue velvet smooth and rich under her touch. Gold letters paraded across the box top—Bennett’s.

  Her heart jerked in her chest once before plummeting to her stomach. Oh God. He didn’t. He wouldn’t have. There was a perfectly logical reason why John O’Reilly had a box from one of Houston’s premier jewelers in his pocket, and it had nothing to do with a proposal, a commitment she couldn’t handle.

  Just put it back. He never has to know you saw it…

  Her stomach rolling, she flipped the lid open. Light danced over emerald cut diamonds. The same black fear that had gripped her when she’d opened the hospital statement washed over her. She couldn’t handle this. She wasn’t ready.

  “I guess I should have put that in the top of my closet, too.” John’s quiet voice startled her, and the box fell to the carpet again.

  She stared at him, nerves jerking under her skin. “Your wallet and everything fell out when I picked up your jeans.”

  Long fingers snagged the box. He knelt beside her, resting on his haunches. Grinning, he reached out and brushed her hair back, hooking it behind her ears. “Do you like it?”

  Like it? She didn’t know a woman who wouldn’t like the exquisite piece. She swallowed hard. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I wasn’t going to do this yet.” He lifted the lid on the box, and her heart jerked again. “But since you’ve already seen it… I want you to marry me, Lanie.”

  “John.” She closed her eyes, a sudden rush of tears pushing at her eyelids.

  “I know you’re not ready now.” He took her hand, his thumb rubbing over the knuckles, and she blinked, looking at him. A smile quirked at his lips. “We could go for a trial period. You wear the ring, and we’ll see where we are in six months.”

  “No.” The desire to cry sprang up again. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to hurt him.

  He s
napped the box shut with a quiet pop. “Then I’ll hang on to it and in a few months, I’ll—”

  “No.” His smile died, and she shook her head, forcing the tears down. “I don’t mean not right now. I mean ever. I can’t marry you.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he stared at her for a long moment. “What the hell?”

  “I’m not ready to make that commitment yet. Can you really say you are?”

  He surged to his feet, glaring down at her. “We share a child. I’d call that pretty damn committed. What’s really going on?”

  She scrambled to stand in front of him. “John—”

  Visible tension coiled his body. He flung an arm toward the bed. “What the hell was this all about then? You can sleep with me, but not commit to me, is that it? Hell.”

  He leaned around her for his clothes, shoving his arms into his shirt. Lanie hugged her midriff, hands cupping her elbows. “I don’t want either of us to feel trapped.”

  The glare he shot her way could have frozen the Gulf. “You mean you want to be able to put my ass out when you get ready.”

  “It isn’t like that, and you know it.”

  “No, I don’t.” He tugged his jeans up, buttoning the fly. “I’m not your father, Lanie. I don’t feel trapped.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with him.” Helpless, she watched him sit on the edge of the bed and pull on his shoes and socks. “What’s wrong with what we have?”

  He fixed her with a look. “You really don’t want me to answer that, do you, honey?”

  “John.” She sought the placating tone she’d used with hyped-up perpetrators. “We can be together, be a family—”

  “No.” With deliberate movements, he tied his shoes. He looked up at her. “We can’t. I’m not interested in playing house with you again. I want everything. That baby in there, the baby we made, deserves everything. You deserve everything.”

  “I thought we’d found everything.” The whisper was so quiet she wasn’t sure he heard it. His shoulders heaved with a harsh sigh, and he pushed up from the bed.