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His words made her flash hot all over. She knew he couldn’t have meant them the way she thought them, but every single one of those five years she’d ridden along with him? She’d been attracted to him in a way she’d never been attracted to her ex-husband, though she’d made sure Jeremy had never known it.
They walked together to the large meeting room where all the volunteers met. Every Christmas Day and Easter Sunday her synagogue and others in the local Jewish community asked for volunteers to help out at the police station and the hospital, so non-essential personnel could spend the day with their families. It was a mitzvah, a good deed, and her family volunteered every year on those two holidays. When she’d moved to Maryland with Sam after their wedding, she’d signed up here. He hadn’t been interested, but she’d refused to give up the tradition she’d followed since she’d been old enough to participate.
The room was full. She assumed Jeremy would sit with the other officers up front and started toward her friend Hannah, but she was jolted when Jeremy hooked a finger in her belt loop and drew her backward. “Stay here,” he murmured in her ear. “By me.”
Oy. Shivers ran down her spine and she licked her lips. “Uh, okay.”
To her utter shock, he didn’t move his hand and his knuckles pressed against the small of her back, hot even through the thick material of her blue jeans. She stood there, rigid, while Jeremy’s lieutenant handed out assignments. Some volunteers would make copies, keep the coffee pots going, fill out forms and be all-around gofers. Others would ride along with an officer, keeping them company on what was usually a very long day.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Jeremy muttered under his breath.
She turned her head and looked up at him. He was taller than her by at least eight inches, about six-two to her five-six. He made a goofy ah, hell, did I say that out loud face and she had to hold back a snort of laughter, but it died in her
throat when his knuckles brushed against her skin in the small gap between where her sweater ended and her jeans began.
Heat flared in his eyes and she couldn’t have broken her gaze from his if her life depended on it. Even so, the touch had to have been an accident. Had to. He’d never touched her before, aside from shaking her hand and that innocent hug in the squad room. He’d always been one-hundred-percent professional around her.
She shoved it out of her mind and focused on Lieutenant Mallory’s words. “...Mr. Silverberg, you’ll be with me, and Ms. Rickman, you’ll be riding with OFC Kohler. And once again, we really appreciate the help from your community.”
“About damn time.”
The words were again muttered under his breath, but she heard them and they set her heart thumping. Be real, Bec. He’s just anxious to get out and start his shift so he can get it over and done with. It’s Christmas, for heaven’s sake. He probably has plans.
Her musings were interrupted by Jeremy’s hand landing on her back. “C’mon, Becca. Time to roll.”
God help her, she didn’t want to move away from his warm touch but she forced herself to walk. “I’m ready.”
As he slid past her to open the door, she could’ve sworn she felt his fingers brush her waist and hip. She shivered and looked up at him, faltering. Tight jaw, one hand scrubbing the back of his neck, no sign of his usual light-hearted smile.
They headed out to his squad car in tense silence, her stomach a giant knot. The front desk area was quiet and so were the hallways leading to the garage. Most Christmases were like this, but one year had been bad. She tried not to think about it much.
At the car, she watched as he did a quick check of his gear. Her fingers itched to touch the glossy black hair that was cropped close to his head in the style she noticed most cops wore. His eyes were a deep hazel and throughout the day, she knew they’d change from blue to green depending on his mood. She’d seen that on her previous rides with him and, unable to stop herself, had wondered more than once what color they’d turn when he was aroused. The small dimple in his cheek helped soften his square jaw. One usually said the uniform made the man, but she had no doubt he’d look just as good in jeans.
Or naked.
Your mind isn’t pure, Rebeccah. Nice Jewish girls don’t think that way or ask for such things. The hated words echoing in her mind made her flinch, or maybe it was the memory of Sam’s hands clenching and unclenching right before he... She shuddered but forced herself to focus on the here and now. She never had to see him again. They were divorced. Over and done.
Jeremy went around to the back of the cruiser and opened the trunk. She’d seen him do this same thing every time they did their ride-along and it reminded her she’d brought something for him. She reached into her big purse and pulled out two small stuffed toys. One was a bear wearing a fancy dress. The other one wore a pair of blue jean overalls. “Hey, I brought these for you.”
He grinned, though it didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Santa told you I was a good boy, huh?”
She laughed for the second time in twenty minutes. That was a record, at least recently. She looked up at him. “You know why.”
He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Yeah. And thank you. They’ll help.”
He carried stuffed toys in his car, as did most of the other officers, for the youngest victims they encountered. She’d seen first-hand how they’d helped calm the toddler who’d been the only survivor in the car crash that one terrible Christmas she still had trouble putting out of her head. She brought him two new ones every time she rode with him.
He leaned to place them in the trunk and her eyes landed on his rear end. She bit back a moan at the way his uniform pants hugged his incredibly fit body, then jolted when the lid closed with a sharp thunk. She lifted her gaze and flinched at his raised eyebrow. Great. Caught ogling his ass. She tried a smile but it felt forced.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay, Bec? You seem not quite yourself today.”
Not going there, no way. Not. Going. There. “I’m fine. Ready to roll, partner?”
He gave her another measured look but nodded. “Ready, partner.”
* * *
Christ. He hadn’t been lying when he said she looked off. She was a beautiful woman, with long brown curls and brown eyes, both the color of milk chocolate. For years, he’d wondered if the tiny freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose were anywhere else on her body. He imagined so, and the thought tormented him, as did her incredible body. She was average height but built like a pin-up girl, or she had been when he’d last seen her nine months ago at Easter.
