Cavanaugh Justice: The Strong Silent Type Part 19

"Okay, enough is enough. This has gone on for two weeks. You've got twelve hours to shape up, Cavanaugh, you hear me?" she demanded of her reflection in the hall mirror.

The reflection didn't look too convinced that it could be done.

She heard the doorbell and didn't bother stifling the groan. It wasn't one of her siblings, because they all had keys and never bothered to ring. Her father believed in the open-door policy. If it was one of her cousins, she just wasn't in the mood to make small talk. But there was no use trying to hide because her car was parked outside in the driveway. They'd know she was home.

Maybe this was better, she told herself. If she had to pretend for someone, she wouldn't have time to dwell on how rotten she felt.

The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she called out, hurrying to the door.

He was the last person in the world she'd expected to see on her doorstep.

It was like a fantasy she might have conjured up, but even as she conjured, she would have known in her heart that it couldn't possibly happen.

Except that it had.

She wondered if somewhere there was a gaggle of devils purchasing ice picks.

"Hi."

"Hi," he responded.

Well, she thought, at least he hadn't lost his knack for scintillating conversation. After a beat, she stepped back and gestured inside the house. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah."

She waited. Hawk remained standing where he was, as if he were glued in place. "Might help if you moved your feet."

Like someone coming out of a trance, Hawk came to and crossed the threshold into her house. There was no turning back now, he thought. His hands felt cold. He shoved them into his pockets and glanced around the area. "Your family around?"

She shut the door and turned around to look at him. "Rayne's over at Cole's place. My father went to the movies with my uncle." Nameless suspicions began to form. "Why?"

"No reason." They were alone, he thought. That was good. He'd have better luck getting this out if they were alone.

She noticed that he was only wearing his jacket. It was a cold night. What was he doing here?

Teri led the way into the living room. "Do you want anything to drink?"

For the first time since he'd left childhood, he felt as if his courage was flagging. He would have liked a drink. A stiff one. But he wasn't about to fall back on artificial props now, not after he'd come so far in his life. That was for losers like his parents had been. "No thanks, I'm okay."

She felt awkward around him. As if she'd somehow slipped her skin on backward and it wasn't fitting quite right. She didn't like the sensation.

He was here to say something, she thought. But what? That he was leaving the city? No, it couldn't be that. Hawk wouldn't come to tell her; he'd just leave. Vanish like smoke. That was more his style.

G.o.d, but she'd missed him. Missed him so much that her stomach ached. These past two weeks had been the hardest she'd gone through in a very long time. The feeling wasn't unlike having some kind of death in the family. And in a way, she supposed there had. A death to what she'd hoped was to be.

"Would you like to sit?" She indicated the sofa behind him.

He looked over his shoulder, then shook his head. "No, I'll stand."

She licked her lips, searching for something to say. "So how's it going?"

He thought of putting up a pretense. But that wasn't why he was here. "Not good. Bad." He looked at her. "h.e.l.l, actually."

That was surprisingly honest of him, she thought. Teri made the only guess she could. "Williams talk too much?"

He wanted to touch her. To run his fingers through her hair, to bury his face in her neck and smell that soft scent of soap that clung to her skin.

Fighting urges, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "He doesn't talk at all."

She laughed shortly. "Should be heaven for you, not the other place you mentioned."

She was sharp. Didn't she get it? Was he going to have to stand here and spill out his guts to her? Taking his hand out, he ran it through his hair. "Yeah, well, it's not."

She saw the quick flash of healing bruises. This was new. She stifled the temptation of taking the hand in hers and examining it. "What's with your knuckles? Or am I not allowed to ask that?"

"Nothing." She kept on looking at him, drawing the words to the surface as if she were levitating them from inside of him. "I slammed my fist into a wall."

"Why?" she deadpanned. "Did the wall do something to annoy you?"

"No," Hawk snapped, irritated. "I did something to annoy me."

She studied his face. He looked worn, tired. She squelched the protective feelings. That wasn't what Hawk wanted from her. What did he want from her? "Doesn't seem very fair to take it out on the wall."

"No, it doesn't. And it's not fair to take my problem out on you."

She frowned. This was getting more obscure instead of clear. "Now you lost me. I was doing fine talking about walls, but this is kind of dicey. This is about people-"

She was making fun of him, he thought. And he deserved it. Knowing still didn't contain the anxiety that telegraphed itself through him. "Will you shut up for a second and let me get this out?"

"Well, since you put it so nicely, how could I refuse?"

He took a deep breath, a runner preparing to make a dash for the finish line. "I was wrong."

She was glad there were no breezes floating through the house or she would have been picking herself up from the floor.

"Go on," she urged slowly. "Not that I don't agree with that, blanketly, but I would like a few more specifics to go on."

"I was wrong when I thought that if we weren't always in each other's faces, things would get better."

What was he up to? It couldn't be as simple as what she was thinking. "They haven't?"

"They haven't."

Feeling as if she had nothing to lose, she pressed. "What kind of things?"

Patience snapped and so did he as he repeated loudly, "Things."

Nice to know some things remained constant, she thought. "Contrary to popular belief, if you raise your voice to say something, that doesn't explain anything or make it clearer." She crossed her arms before her. "Try again. What things?"

He was a man who didn't believe in laundry lists, so he summed it up. "My life."

"You were looking to improve your life by getting rid of me." She said the words slowly, as if she were trying to digest them, or at least make some kind of sense out of them.

"No, d.a.m.n it, I was just trying to get my life back to where it was."

"And you didn't?"

"No, I did," he contradicted, and then laid all his cards on that table. Or thought he did. "Except that I don't like it the way it was anymore."

"Hard man to please."

She shrugged and he thought that maybe he'd blown it. Maybe she didn't give a d.a.m.n what he felt or did. But instead of walking away from the table and his losses, the way he always had, he decided to dig in and fight.

"I know. But you did."

Teri blinked and wondered when her hearing had gone out on her. "Did what?"

"Pleased me."

He had a way with words, she thought. "My union rep at Feminists Daily will be very happy to hear that."

He stared at her for a second, then shook his head as if that could somehow help clear away the cobwebs that had descended over it. This wasn't coming out the way he'd wanted. But then, everything around Teri was unpredictable. That was part of the attraction. "d.a.m.n it, you know what I mean."

"Maybe." She was beginning to, or at least thought she was. But she'd gone down the wrong path before. This time, she wanted the bread crumbs to clearly lead the way to markers, not more bread crumbs. "But I want to hear you elaborate it. Articulate for once in your life with something less than a bearlike growl, Hawk. Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking."

He tried again. "I'm thinking that life with you was bad-"

She shook her head, managing to keep the smile back. "Not your best start."

He pushed on with determination. "But life without you is h.e.l.l."

"Better." She waited. Nothing followed. This was going to be a long process, she thought. "That wasn't the end of it, was it?"

"No," he snapped, then fell into silence again as he tried to phrase things in his head, phrase them the way he knew she wanted to hear them.

She c.o.c.ked her head and looked at him, amus.e.m.e.nt entering her eyes. "These other words, are they coming anytime soon?"

"I want you back." It was a blunt statement, but it summed up everything.

"How, Hawk?" She searched his face, trying to delve into his soul, warning herself not to get too carried away. "How do you want me back? As a partner?"

It was a start, he thought with relief, one he could build on. "Yes."

She pretended to consider his request and then shook her head. "Might be difficult-Mitch.e.l.l and I get along beautifully."

She was kidding, he realized. And maybe, just maybe, the window of opportunity hadn't shut down. "I could kill him," he offered mildly.

Teri nodded her head slowly. "Yes, that would dissolve the partners.h.i.+p. But it might make it hard being your partner if you're in prison." She allowed herself a broad smile. "It'll be simpler if we just get the chief to switch us back."

d.a.m.n, it was going to be all right, he thought. He knew her well enough for that, to know when he was in the hot seat and when he wasn't. "Okay, we'll do it your way."

The smile went from ear to ear. "That has a nice ring to it."

"Since you brought it up-" He began to feel around inside his pocket, hoping what he'd brought with him hadn't fallen out somewhere. And then he breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers came in contact with the metal.

"Brought what up?"

And then the banter died on her lips as she stared at what he held in the palm of his hand. It was a ring. A perfect, beautiful, heart-shaped diamond ring.

Words stuck to the roof of her mouth and had to be pried out one by one. "I don't suppose you got that from the bottom of a Cracker Jack box."

"No."

She held her breath as he took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

Her heart hammered as she stared down at the gem. "Look at that. It fits," she whispered in awe.

He hadn't left that to chance. "I asked your sister if she knew your ring size."

Teri's head jerked up. She couldn't have been more surprised than if he'd just ripped off his s.h.i.+rt to announce that he was really Tarzan. "You asked my sister?"

"Callie."

She stared at him as if he'd suddenly turned into an alien life form. Or the man of her secret dreams. "You actually communicated something personal to a member of my family?" To cover just how deeply moved she was, she placed her hand over her chest, feigning shock. "My G.o.d, Hawk, there's hope for you yet."

"Only if you marry me."

Her knees suddenly went out on her. Afraid of sinking to the floor, she grabbed his arm. "I think I need to sit down."

But he wouldn't let her sit. Instead, he swept her into his arms, holding her close to him. "I won't let you fall." She looked up at him, her eyes dazed with disbelief. He could hardly believe any of this himself. But he felt freer than he ever had in his life. And happier. "I've never, ever felt about anyone the way I feel about you. These past couple of weeks have been h.e.l.l."

Happiness curled through her, filling every nook and cranny. "You mentioned that."

How had he managed to survive these past two weeks without her? Without holding her like this? "Did I also mention that I love you?"

"No," she allowed. "That's new, although the ring did give me a hint."

"Marry me, Teri-"

b.u.t.terflies turned into eagles. Eagles with grins on their beaks. "There you go again, using my first name and getting me all misty." She looked up at him, her tone becoming serious. She was a goner and she knew it. "You don't play fair, you know."

He combed his hand through her hair, cupping her cheek. "I'll play any way you want me to, Teri, as long as you say yes."

"To the partners.h.i.+p?" she teased.

"To everything."

She c.o.c.ked her head again. "Now, that might be tricky. My father always taught me not to issue blanket statements I might regret."