Forever Blue. Suzanne Brockmann
Blue had saved from a serious thrashing out on the far side of the town baseball field all those years ago.
“I’m a little surprised to see you,” Blue drawled. “I’d have thought you would’ve packed up and left South Carolina years ago, Yankee.”
Yankee. It had been her nickname all through high school. Lucy Tait, the Yankee girl. Moved to town with her widowed mom from someplace way up north. She was still referred to all the time as “Yankee girl.” It had been twelve years. Twelve years. Her mother was no longer alive. And Lucy wasn’t a girl anymore. But some things never changed.
“No,” Lucy said evenly. “I’m still here in Hatboro Creek.”
“I can see that.”
Blue gazed at Lucy, taking in her long, brown—wet—hair, tied back in a utilitarian ponytail; her unforgettable dark brown eyes; the lovely, almost delicate shape of her face; and her tall, slender body. Little Lucy Tait wasn’t so little anymore. The rain had softened the stiff fabric of her police uniform, molding it against her female curves. Yes, Lucy Tait had definitely grown up. Blue felt an unmistakable surge of physical attraction and he had to smile. At age eighteen, he never would have believed that the sight of scrawny little Lucy Tait standing in the rain could possibly turn him on.
But if there was one thing he learned in his stint as a Navy SEAL, it was that times—and people—were always changing. Nothing ever stayed the same.
“How long have you been an officer of the law?” he asked. The crowd was gone and the police van was pulling away. The rain was relentless but warm. Blue liked the way it felt on his face, and Lucy didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to shelter.
Lucy crossed her arms. “Six months.”
Blue nodded.
She lifted her chin. “I’m the first woman on the Hatboro Creek police force.”
Blue tried to hide his smile, but it slipped through. “First Yankee on the force, too, no doubt.”
Lucy must have realized how defensive she looked, because she slowly smiled, too—at first almost sheepishly, then wider. “Yeah,” she said. “I suppose I’ve been setting all kinds of new Hatboro Creek records lately.”
Her face wasn’t exactly what you’d call pretty. At least, not at first glance. Her mouth was too wide, too generous, too big for her face—except when she smiled. Her smile transformed her totally, making her eyes dance and sparkle and charming dimples appear in the perfect, smooth, slightly olive-tinted complexion of her cheeks. Her nose was straight and large, but not too big for her face, revealing a faintly Mediterranean ancestry. Her eyes were warm and the deepest shade of brown, framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Her ears were small and amazingly delicate looking. Blue found himself watching, fascinated, as a drop of rain clung to her unpierced earlobe before dripping onto her shoulder.
“I’m surprised Chief Bradley lets you patrol alone,” Blue said.
Lucy’s smile vanished. “Why? Because I’m a woman or because I’m a Yankee?”
“Because you’re a rookie.”
“I had Leroy Hurley handled,” Lucy remarked, her dark eyes flashing. “Until Andy got his gun.”
Blue nodded, forcing his gaze out and into the distance, down Main Street, toward the marina. How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? Two months? Three? Longer? He honestly couldn’t remember. He usually didn’t pay his sexual appetite much mind—until it sat up and demanded priority attention.
Like right now.
In a flash he could picture Lucy standing in the warm rain, sans uniform, water washing down her lean, shapely female body—full, soft breasts; flat stomach; slim hips; dangerously long, well-muscled thighs…. The image sent an intense rush of heat through him, heat he knew she’d be able to see in his eyes.
It was strange. In the past, Blue had always been attracted to the overly feminine type—the helpless type of woman who wore lots of frills and lace and needed to be rescued. It was true that he had in fact come to Lucy’s rescue more than once, but both times she’d certainly been doing her best to save herself. She was independent and strong. Even though she was soaking wet and only a rookie, she wore her police uniform and the gun at her side with an air of authority and competence. That should have pushed him back a step or two. Instead, he found himself inching forward, trying to get closer.
“I assumed Andy was harmless,” Lucy was saying with a frown. “I focused on Leroy and didn’t pay Andy any attention. That was my big mistake.”
“Never assume anything,” Blue said. He could tell from the way she met his gaze, then suddenly looked away, that she had gotten a glimpse of the fire in his eyes. She blushed, a tinge of pink darkening her cheeks as she looked down at the mud-encrusted radio and ticket pad she still held in her hands. She slipped the pad into her belt and tried to wipe the radio clean. She appeared to be intent on fixing her equipment, but she couldn’t keep from glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes.
Suddenly, Blue remembered the rumor he’d heard his senior year in high school that the little Yankee freshman girl had a crush on him. He’d been flattered and amused, and as kind to the girl as he could be without leading her on.
Was it possible that Lucy’s high-school crush had survived all these years?
Blue had noticed right from the first moment he’d spotted her sitting in the Grill that she wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Was it possible that Lucy was still single, still unattached?
Blue had come to Hatboro Creek today out of obligation. He’d come with every intention of enduring his visit—he hadn’t planned to enjoy any of it. But he was on leave, and his leave time was infrequent and irregular. Why not take hold of an opportunity and have a little pleasure, especially since that pleasure seemed to be handing itself to him on a silver platter? Why not? Especially since the attraction he was feeling right now was stronger than anything he’d felt in a long, long time.
“I, um, I better go,” Lucy said. “I’ll need to fill out a report and…” She turned toward him, using the back of one hand to push her wet hair from her face, but succeeding in leaving a streak of mud on her cheek. “Can I give you a ride somewhere? Are you staying at your brother’s?”
As Lucy watched, Blue glanced up at the cloudy sky as if noticing the rain for the first time. It was finally starting to let up. He pushed his hair back from his face but didn’t meet Lucy’s eyes again. “No,” he said. “Jenny Lee has already moved into Gerry’s place. I thought it would be better if I stayed at the motel. And it’s not far. I can walk there probably faster than you could drive.”
Lucy nodded, wishing almost inanely that he would smile at her again, or that he would look at her and let her get a second glance at that slow-burning heat she’d imagined she’d seen in his eyes. But it had to be just that—imagined. Blue McCoy would never be interested in her.
Would he?
“I wish I could think of a way to thank you properly for what you did,” she said, backing away.
He stepped toward her, following. “I can think of a way,” he said in his soft drawl. “There’s a party tonight at the country club, a sort of rehearsal dinner for Saturday’s wedding. Come as my date.”
Lucy stopped short. Her first reaction was to laugh. This had to be some sort of joke. Go to Hatboro Creek’s exclusive country club—on a date with Blue McCoy, her childhood hero? But Blue wasn’t laughing. He was…serious?
Why? Lucy searched his eyes, looking for the reason he’d asked her out. Why? There had to be a reason.
She found the answer in the heat in his eyes, as clear as day.
Sex.
He was a man and she was a woman, and although his invitation had been to attend a fancy, high-society party, what he really wanted to do with her wouldn’t require any kind of