Shotgun Honeymoon

Without further thought, he folded his arms around her and held on tight.

No matter how hard she worked at it, no matter how disgusted she got with herself, nor how unrequited she knew her feelings were, every time she saw Russ Levoie, Janina Gálvez Carmichael fell smack-dab right back head over heart over heels in love with him again.

Had ever since the first time he’d walked into the Fat Cat Diner thirteen years ago when she was a sixteen-year-old waitress and he was a fresh-from-the-academy rookie working his first evening shift for the Winslow P.D.

It still happened now that she was a twenty-nine-year-old working-her-way-through-college-a-class-at-a-time waitress who’d been around the block a few times and who damn well knew better than to fall for a guy who carried a torch for someone else and who wasn’t going to budge from that path no matter what.

The idiot.

Him and her. Meaning not only her as in herself, Janina Gálvez Carmichael, but as in her, that blasted Maddie Thorn that Russ couldn’t seem to let go of long enough to notice the girl with the heart-on-her-sleeve look who’d served him coffee, flirtation, offhand friendship, advice and good humor almost every day of the week for the last thirteen years.

Geez, what a fool.

Both of them.

No, make that all of them, because though she seemed to count on his friendship like a lifeline, Maddie’d never really given in to Russ in a one-on-one love-me-tender-and-forever way, either. Which was pretty damn stupid of her, in Janina’s oft-considered and far-less-than-humble opinion.

Fuming, Janina watched Russ seat himself and the ice-cool Sharon Stone look-alike, wearing the expensively cut slim white designer sheath, at his usual back booth. His concern for the beautifully coiffed and manicured blonde was plain, spelled out something subtle to the green-eyed monster Janina knew she wasn’t entitled to harbor yet harbored anyway. Maddie’d had to scrape and scrap hard to pull herself out of the hell she’d grown up in, Janina knew that. Once Maddie had made her own way through beauty school—with Russ’s help, damn it!—she’d gotten a job, worked hard, paid him back and she was now one of the most sought-after stylists in Phoenix.

And that was not to mention the time Janina knew Maddie put in at a couple of Phoenix battered women’s shelters doing corrective makeup and makeovers for girls and women trying to get out of situations similar to her own past.

Janina also knew that Russ never brought women into the diner. In fact, she’d never seen him out with anyone other than his brothers or other cops unless it was in a crowded social situation like a community barbecue. And even then he never paid particular attention to anyone special.

Especially not to her, Janina Carmichael née Gálvez—and chalk that married name change up to one truly witless mistake. Damn it.

On all counts.

She grimaced wryly at herself in the revolving dessert-display cooler mirror. Russ was thirty-two years old, for pity’s sake. He had a life, presumably. She didn’t own him, more was the pity. And other than the little time they spent flirting when she waited on him, Russ probably barely thought of her or remembered she was alive.

Another glance at Maddie Thorn made Janina growl unintentionally under her breath.

A half snort, half chuckle at her shoulder made her catch herself, realize what she was doing and redden. In self-defense she snatched up a pot of coffee and a rag, preparing to head over to the table to greet Russ and his…

Guest.

“Don’t say anything,” she said without looking back.

“He’s got a friend tonight,” Tobi Hosey observed, ignoring her. Tobi usually ignored Janina when Janina wanted Tobi to say nothing. It was the basis of their friendship. Tobi spoke her mind regardless of the tact involved and Janina swallowed it and spoke her own back, no baloney involved. Which meant they each had someone who’d laugh at their bouts of temperamental stupidity.

Which was exactly what Tobi was doing now.

Which was exactly what Tobi did each and every time Russ came in and left without Janina saying one word to him about going to a movie or dinner or anything else that resembled something that might turn out to be romantic or relationship-developing—or that might at least get him home and into Janina’s bed. Because they both knew that Russ Levoie did not do casual in any way, shape or form. Hell, the creases in his uniform and even his jeans were knife-edged. Of course he didn’t do casual—any kind of casual. And if you wanted confirmation, all you had to do was ask his brothers.

Janina and Tobi had each, in fact, casually dated—as in “hung out with” not “bedded”—all three of Russ’s younger siblings. And enjoyed themselves tremendously in the process. But Janina really wasn’t interested in casual dating anymore. She was interested in Russ, pretty much constantly, nonstop.

But there had been moments in her life when she got intensely, out-of-control lonely and had to do what she had to do to keep her sanity intact. These were past tense, of course. Still, they’d led to the smart-girl-doing-stupid-things someone had written the book about.

Like letting herself be flattered into her first romantic relationship with and then marrying that good-for-nothing bruiser Buddy Carmichael a couple years after high school just because she thought she’d finally gotten over Russ, lost her mind and fallen for Buddy, let him have her virginity and then thought he’d gotten her pregnant.

Which would have been a mistake of gargantuan proportions even if he had, which he hadn’t. Because not only had she not been pregnant, but Big Man on Northland Pioneer College’s Campus, Buddy Carmichael, had turned out to be a drinking-man’s wife beater with friends in high places and an ability to manipulate the system to his own ends.

And so much for doing what some desperate mutation of yourself thought you had to do to keep yourself from being lonely!

After the Buddy idiocy Janina had started hanging out with Russ’s brothers, almost exclusively. They were fun and they didn’t stray beyond boundaries they all knew existed but none of them mentioned.

True, they weren’t Russ by a long shot, but they shared minor similarities and were a fairly safe substitute for, not to mention a good source of information on, the real thing.

Foolish, but there she was.

Head high in refusal to succumb to the truly moronic things she knew about herself, Janina slung a pair of brown coffee mugs from a finger and sashayed out from behind the counter, hips swinging in her best “I don’t give a damn what you’re doing or with whom, Russ Levoie” style.

Not that he’d get it, but that wasn’t the point.

At least not entirely.

“Damn the torpedoes,” Tobi suggested helpfully, grinning.

“Shut up,” Janina retorted and, head high, huffed off.

“I don’t know how I can help you, Maddie,” Janina heard Russ say as she approached. She watched him run a hand over the back of his freshly shorn neck in a gesture of frustration with which she was all too familiar. He accepted responsibility for the world, and when the world didn’t cooperate, it got to him. “It’s not like—”

“I know you don’t have jurisdiction, Russ,” Maddie said, not quite able to keep the panic out of her voice. “I just thought maybe…” She swallowed, drew herself together. “Hoped maybe there’d be something…” Her voice trailed off.

Janina paused, watching.

Maddie’s face grew shuttered, her troubled hazel eyes clouded, and the perfect bow mouth took on the edgy shape of self-derision. “I don’t know what I hoped. Aside from—from…” She swallowed convulsively, clenched her fists and looked away, at the table, at the window, anywhere but at him. “Aside from the other stuff…m-my fath—Charlie getting out an-and coming for me…” She ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth. Shrugged. “Other than that, I dunno. Maybe I hoped partly that you’d changed your mind about what I asked you. Or something.”

She looked at him, suddenly in command of herself again. “I’m sorry, this was stupid. What am I thinking? You’d think I’d have learned how to rescue myself by now, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe not from this,” he said quietly then eyed her directly, hard. “But is that what you’re here looking for, Maddie? A knight-in-shining?”

Maddie laughed without humor. “Wouldn’t that be a kick if I were. Why? You looking to joust windmills again, Russ?”

Russ shrugged. “We all need a little rescuing once in a while.”

“Even you?”

“Not by you, Maddie.” The comment was terse, accompanied by an unconscious, half-reflexive glance that skimmed the room and brought his gaze to rest for half a second on Janina.

She stopped dead in her tracks. He needed to be rescued, but not by Maddie. Not by Maddie! And he’d looked at her—her, Janina!—when he said it. So he did notice her—maybe. If she was reading correctly the signals he might not even be aware he was sending.

A frisson of—Janina wasn’t sure what—shimmied down her spine. Fear and anticipation, caution and recklessness, pure unadulterated and exhilarating hope.

In less than a heartbeat, hope changed the “I don’t give a damn” swing of her hips into a “come-hither” sway-and-roll, turned her step into a glide, sparkled her eyes, instinctively curved her mouth into its most welcoming and flirtatious “hey-how-you-doin’” smile, and focused her entire attention on Russ.

In just longer than that same heartbeat, and seemingly from out of nowhere, a large, booted foot shot out and tripped her, sent her sliding and sprawling across an empty table that tipped and dumped her, the burning-hot coffee, the mugs and the chair she smashed into, crashing to the floor.

Somewhere off to the right the air filled with raucous, full-bellied, hatefully familiar, cruelly delighted laughter surrounded by shocked silence.

Half-stunned, Janina lay in the middle of the mess, feeling the bruises gather and the coffee scald its way through her skimpy pink uniform. She couldn’t quite find her right wrist, and the left fingers that had carried the coffee mugs felt pinched and a trifle slick.

The spiteful laughter lasted for less than a moment longer before Russ jerked Buddy Carmichael out of his seat by the throat, slammed him backward into the wall, tripped him face-first onto the floor beside his ex-wife and handcuffed his beefy wrists behind him.

Oblivious of her expensive white designer sheath, Maddie knelt amid the debris beside Janina and gently began to feel for broken bones. Tobi arrived at Janina’s other side almost simultaneously to do the same.

Not far from Janina’s face, Russ gripped a hank of Buddy’s hair and lifted his head, forcing him to look at Janina. “This what you think’s funny, man?” Fury tightened Russ’s voice to a whip crack. “Seriously, man, you find this funny?”

Apparently unaware of who had him pinned, Buddy sneered, unrepentant. “Yeah.”

Russ dragged Buddy up farther, hard, by the hair. “What?”

Buddy’s smirk wavered hardly at all. “Yeah—sir.”

The chains on Russ’s temper seemed to snap. Even as the rolling whoop of sirens filled the air outside the diner, he dropped Buddy’s face onto the floor and hauled him up for another go.

Suddenly, Buddy was neither cocky nor smirking. He also no longer found what he’d done to Janina funny, and croaked that to Russ through bruised and bleeding lips. Hardly satisfied, but knowing it was the best he’d get, Russ removed his knee from between Buddy’s shoulder blades, released the man’s hair, jerked a nod in his brother Jonah’s direction as he came into the café and moved to squat beside Janina.

Casting a wry look at his oldest—and tallest—brother, young officer Levoie went to collect Russ’s prisoner.

Gently, Russ touched Janina’s cheek. “How you doin’?”

She tried a wobbly smile on for size. The man had reduced her ex to pulp for her, for her, the least she could do was smile at him and say thank-you. Because no one had ever done that for her before, had ever even tried to rescue her.

Janina blinked. Her eyes watered and tears spilled. Russ stroked her cheek and she’d never known a man’s hand to feel so gentle, so calm, when less than two minutes ago he’d been Buddy’s terror from hell. Why had she never asked him for help when she’d been married and needed it? He’d have given it. But she hadn’t asked because she hadn’t wanted Russ Levoie, of all people, to know how stupid she’d been over a man who wasn’t him.

“Hey,” Russ whispered, spotting her tears. He pulled a clean hankie out of his back pocket and blotted her cheeks awkwardly. “It’s okay. You’re okay now. We’ve got you, Janie. You’ll be okay. It’s only friends here now.”

It’s only friends here now.

The problem exactly. Because of all the people in the world with whom Janina didn’t want to be “only friends,” Russ Levoie was at the top of the list and had been for the better part of a baker’s dozen years now.

Unable to contain her multihued emotions, Janina let the sobs loose. Without thought, Russ sat down on the floor, carefully gathered her into his arms and held her close while the EMTs checked her over and Janina cried into his chest.

Chapter 2

July 18

Janina stood in front of her closet and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror.

“Very attractive,” she muttered, taking in the fuzzy, yellow Woodstock-the-bird slippers on her feet, the overly warm plaid flannel magenta pajama bottoms, the Remember 9/11-2001 emblazoned in navy and white on red alongside the U.S. flag on her ragged-edged, oft-worn, long-sleeved gray T-shirt, the bright turquoise Ace-wrap peeking out from the pushed-up sleeve on her right wrist and forearm that protected the slight sprain to her wrist, and the green tape wrapping the stitched-up fingers on her left hand. “Absolutely blasted ducky brilliant.”

She studied her face, the small, relatively minor bruising below the eye on her right cheek and beside it the butterfly bandage where she hadn’t needed stitches to close a laceration. Then she examined the lumpiness on her upper lip where it had taken a plastic surgeon a surprising number of stitches to close the small but deep cut inside. “You look stinking beautiful. No wonder he had to leave. Sheesh.”

Or rather, sheesh and damn. Because the reason Russ had given for leaving after he’d brought Janina home from the hospital three hours ago was so he could see Maddie home.

Maddie, who’d refused to leave Janina’s—or Russ’s—side and tagged along to the hospital with Tobi while Russ rode the back of the ambulance with Janina.

Maddie, with whom Russ had been in love since he’d been, oh, six. And twelve. And sixteen. And forever.

Maddie, who lived in Phoenix, which was in the neighborhood of one hundred and eighty miles away.

Seeing her home. Yeah, right. His trailer home maybe. Where he didn’t take anybody.

Which she knew because Jonah had told her.

Janina fumed.

Then she eyed herself in the mirror again, stuck out her tongue at her reflection and decided to act. Because by the time Russ had brought Janina back to the apartment she shared with Tobi, Jonah had turned up to see Maddie off to wherever. Right?

Right. So Russ had gone home by himself after all.

Groggy or not at the time, Janina had made a clear note of that smidgen of information. Which meant that whatever Russ had said when he’d left, it was an excuse, pure and simple, a means to leave her alone to…

Get some sleep and recover from her ordeal, let’s say.

She tried to purse her lips—a painful move—and considered that thought. As thoughts went it had real merit, showed tremendous consideration by him for her welfare and boded well for her desire for a relationship with him.

And it had absolutely no Maddie in it.

Especially, no Maddie and Russ. As in together, paired up, in the same place, where there might be a bed.

Janina breathed out, an action of both decision and courage, and took the thought a step further. Actually, she took it several steps and a leap of faith further.

She might have a slightly sprained wrist and be on mild painkillers, but she was sober, she hadn’t been told not to drive and Tobi was asleep. Right?

Right.

So, darn it, she was going to see him. Russ, not Jonah.

Now.

Because clearly though he was the kind of guy who might want a girl—she hadn’t imagined the look he’d sent her tonight right before Buddy had tripped her—but he was also the kind of guy who was damn s-l-o-w about getting to what he wanted. So if the girl had mutual feelings for him, then she’d better do something about it herself.

Like go and attack him, or at least throw herself at him and tell him exactly what she wanted of him. And how often. And for how long. And maybe, while she was at it, say something about forever. With him.

Or something like that.

Oh, geez. Janina covered her face with her left hand—gingerly. Maybe she shouldn’t drive, she thought. She wasn’t making sense anymore, even to herself.

She checked on Tobi to be sure her roommate was sleeping then got dressed anyway, makeup and all, then found her keys and purse, and headed out to find Russ.

Two cars were parked outside of Russ’s trailer, one of which was Maddie’s—Janina swallowed jealousy—but neither of which was his.

Surprised, she pulled over to the side of the road and studied the darkened trailer. She was pretty sure she knew everyone Russ knew, knew their vehicles, or so she thought. If Maddie was inside, where was Russ?

Hope sang through her in a low thrum. Maddie was inside and Russ’s car wasn’t there. Somebody else’s was.

Janina’s mouth trembled. She almost smiled. Almost.

She wanted to. But she was afraid.

A Winslow police cruiser coasted up beside her car, startling her. Janina grabbed her heart, winced when her hands objected, then, recognizing Jonah, rolled down her window.

“You supposed to be out ’n about?” Russ’s not-so-babyish baby brother asked.

Janina looked at him. Lightning-quick onyx eyes set in a deceptively youthful native nutmeg face stared back. As usual, Jonah’s straight ebony hair stood on end because of his constant need to do something with his hands, attesting to the lack of stillness that was both his strength and nemesis. Though he was shorter and slighter than his brothers, his slim, wiry body made him quicker than any of them, had stood him in good stead as a wrestler in both high school and through the academy. Didn’t matter the size of the prisoner he put a hold on, if Jonah Levoie didn’t want to let someone go, they stayed held on to.

“Fine,” Jonah said. “Let me rephrase. You’re looking mighty dressed to kill for someone who maybe oughta be home in bed. You stalkin’ my head-case brother?”

Janina blinked. She’d handled Jonah before. He was merely an outspoken, sometimes arrogant, frequently youthful hothead. Silence on her part would trip him over his tongue sooner than byplay.

Jonah sighed. “I ask because if you were stalkin’ him and if he was here, I’d open the door for you because I think he could use a good dose of takin’ care of you right now, and vice versa. Get Maddie out of his system but good. But since he’s not here and I dunno why he asked me to run extra patrols past his place tonight, I can’t do that.”

“Where is he?” The question was out before Janina could stop it.

Jonah grinned. “Knew you were interested.”

Janina, the would-be grown-up of the two of them, stuck her tongue out at Russ’s baby brother.

Jonah laughed. “Can’t hide, Janie. You’ve been hot for him since before I knew you. The only reason you went out with me was to get closer to him.”

“Not true,” Janina protested far too vehemently and transparently. “But a girl can’t sit around all her life waiting for Russ Levoie to get it into his head to ask her for a date.”

The mild painkillers must have made her tongue looser and her head muzzier than she’d realized. “And if you tell anybody I said that…”

Jonah didn’t laugh. He smiled slightly and nodded, two months to twenty-five and grown-up for a change. “Mum,” he said. “Heard nothin’. But…”

Janina glared at him. He grinned slightly and shook his head.

“Nope, no strings. Just thought I’d mention I think I saw Russ’s car parked down at the Bloated Boar an hour ago. My guess, I’m gonna get a call to haul him out of there in about twenty minutes. He’ll be on his feet, but he won’t be drivin’ anymore tonight. And…” He hesitated, looked Janina over as though making a judgment call. Shrugged and gave it up. “He’ll need a place to stay because he said he won’t be stayin’ here.”

Janina’s breath flipped in her lungs, and her heart hit the back of her throat. Something in the early-morning air made her unaccountably dizzy. “He will?” she said.

Jonah nodded. “Yeah. And he took tomorrow off.”

“Oh.” Janina swallowed. Fear, anticipation, excitement, hope, nerves—readiness. “Thanks.” I think.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jonah muttered almost too low for her to hear.

Hands tense on the steering wheel—she needed to hang on tight to something right now—she watched Jonah sketch her a two-finger salute and peel his cruiser into a tight U-turn, returning to his third-shift prowl. Then trying not to wonder what Jonah had meant by his last cryptic remark, Janina, too, pulled back onto the road and made tracks toward the Bloated Boar Saloon.

The Bloated Boar Saloon.

July 18, 3:17 a.m.

Nothing and everything about the Bloated Boar was unique.

Situated off a dirt track in the middle of nowhere and a goodly distance from anywhere else, the Bloated Boar boasted a badly taxidermied mascot protected behind a scarred, bulletproof Plexiglas shield below the carved sign that bore the saloon’s name. The shield was bulletproofed because of weekend revelers intent on trying their luck at taking out the mascot’s shiny glass eyes.

Contrary to the stories they put out, the owners did not hail from London or anyplace resembling it, but had once had a great-aunt who was an Anglophile and who’d willed them enough money to open the Bloated Boar if they called it the Bloated Boar, decorated it to her specifications and gave it the legend she wrote for it. Tall-tale-tellin’ Texans, the lot of ’em, they’d willingly complied with the great-aunt’s request, and the Bloated Boar was now in its third generation of fake Cockney-accented or East End-accented Texans.

At various hours of the day the saloon was peopled with busty serving wenches and unsavory-looking serving pirates. There was also a full-figured barmaid who often chose to dress the part and a six-foot-six-inch ruddy-cheeked swallow-tender barman who also acted as the saloon’s bouncer.

Any number of colorful “plants” among the customers added to the atmosphere when tourists—who found the out-of-the-way place in surprising numbers—were present. Janina knew the place well as it was a favorite haunt among the locals, too. The Boar opened at 7:00 a.m. for breakfast and closed only briefly twenty-one hours later. The food was good and plentiful, the drinks ran freely, and it was a rowdy place in which to have a good time.

And for the life of her, Janina couldn’t believe Jonah had sent her to find Russ there. She’d have bet money that the overly intense Russ Levoie didn’t believe in rowdy good times, or relaxing good times, or maybe even just simple good times, come to that. She wasn’t even sure he knew how to relax and have a good time. Janina wheeled her vintage Chevy wagon into the Bloated Boar’s parking lot. Sure enough, parked well away from the scarred display box and sign sat Russ’s immaculate white Jimmy. Though a classic with a removable hard top and hardly new, the vehicle always managed to look it, despite the rough and dusty country Russ drove it through. Spoke to the man’s character, Janina was pretty sure.

She simply found an empty parking place, took a deep breath, released her seat belt as she exhaled, and launched herself on her search for Russ.