once. How could she be attracted to a man who represented so much that she resented? He saw the world in black and white: I'm right, you're wrong. The kind of swaggering, macho cop she despised. Women weren't valid partners or friends, they were toys to him, and he always chose the prettiest.
Maybe, she admitted wryly, that was what she'd resented most. Knowing he'd never look her way, see her as the prettiest.
Only, thanks to a few beers, he had. And she hadn't had the pride to slap his hand and say, "Here's one toy you can't have."
Nope, she'd let him play. She'd played, though she knew all too well the price a woman often had to pay.
Even with his support, she'd be raising a child alone again, just when Kim was heading off to college. There'd be talk in the department, but it wouldn't be about Hugh, except for some knowing grins. Boys will be boys.
Nell was the one they'd be whispering about, the one who'd face official disapproval, the one who'd be stuck behind a desk while her belly swelled, the one who'd scramble for child care and use every second, of her own sick leave for a baby with ear infections, while knowing she was letting her fellow cops down. Hugh would want to see his son or daughter on his days off, when it was convenient. And he'd feel big because he was being a real father.
Nell winced at her pettishness. He was offering more than many men would. He'd actually taken the news well. He hadn't asked why she had spread her legs if she wasn't on birth control. He wasn't pretending he hadn't been there, in every sense. He hadn't argued when she told him she wouldn't have an abortion. He'd actually been willing to stand beside her when she told Kim, which was perhaps the noblest part of all.
He really was being decent about this, Nell had to admit. So maybe he wasn't the jerk she used to think him. No, of course he wasn't. She'd seen enough signs of smarts and self-doubt and even kindness from him during their weeks working together to have learned that much. She was luckier than she could have been. Hugh wasn't the kind to lose interest a few years along. This baby would have a father.
Working together should have been easier once she'd been straight with him, Nell was sure.
Within a day, she'd discovered that for some reason, it wasn't. His new-formed solicitude didn't help. He actually came around and opened her car door at their first stop the Monday morning after their talk. When she gaped, a dull red flush crept over his cheekbones.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I just thought…"
"I was a lady?"
"I was thinking about you being pregnant, and wondering if you're tired the way my sister-in-law was the first few months, and—" He shut up.
Joining him on the sidewalk in the dry hot shade of an enormous cedar tree, she lied, "I'm not tired. If you start opening doors for me in public view, the whole world's going to find out I'm pregnant."
"Yeah." He grimaced. "Treating you like another guy just goes against my instincts."
"And always has," she said, sotto voce, only he heard her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know."
He blocked her way up the sidewalk. "No, I don't. Tell me."
She thrust out her chin. "You don't like women cops."
He braced his hands on his hips. "Have I ever treated you differently than I would a man?"
You screwed me in the back seat of your Explorer, she had the sense not to say.
"You don't like to let me drive."
"That," he said with a growl, "is because you don't focus. For God's sake, your head is turning because a damn rose is in bloom or a new antique shop has opened! I'm a better driver."
Nell flushed, because she had remarked on both when she was behind the wheel. "Cops are supposed to be observant."
"We're looking for criminal activity, not home gardening tips."
Good time to shift direction. "You were ticked when the captain assigned me to work with you."
He threw his hands up. "Big shock! We've never gotten along. You think like a woman, not a cop."
Her
Maybe, she admitted wryly, that was what she'd resented most. Knowing he'd never look her way, see her as the prettiest.
Only, thanks to a few beers, he had. And she hadn't had the pride to slap his hand and say, "Here's one toy you can't have."
Nope, she'd let him play. She'd played, though she knew all too well the price a woman often had to pay.
Even with his support, she'd be raising a child alone again, just when Kim was heading off to college. There'd be talk in the department, but it wouldn't be about Hugh, except for some knowing grins. Boys will be boys.
Nell was the one they'd be whispering about, the one who'd face official disapproval, the one who'd be stuck behind a desk while her belly swelled, the one who'd scramble for child care and use every second, of her own sick leave for a baby with ear infections, while knowing she was letting her fellow cops down. Hugh would want to see his son or daughter on his days off, when it was convenient. And he'd feel big because he was being a real father.
Nell winced at her pettishness. He was offering more than many men would. He'd actually taken the news well. He hadn't asked why she had spread her legs if she wasn't on birth control. He wasn't pretending he hadn't been there, in every sense. He hadn't argued when she told him she wouldn't have an abortion. He'd actually been willing to stand beside her when she told Kim, which was perhaps the noblest part of all.
He really was being decent about this, Nell had to admit. So maybe he wasn't the jerk she used to think him. No, of course he wasn't. She'd seen enough signs of smarts and self-doubt and even kindness from him during their weeks working together to have learned that much. She was luckier than she could have been. Hugh wasn't the kind to lose interest a few years along. This baby would have a father.
Working together should have been easier once she'd been straight with him, Nell was sure.
Within a day, she'd discovered that for some reason, it wasn't. His new-formed solicitude didn't help. He actually came around and opened her car door at their first stop the Monday morning after their talk. When she gaped, a dull red flush crept over his cheekbones.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I just thought…"
"I was a lady?"
"I was thinking about you being pregnant, and wondering if you're tired the way my sister-in-law was the first few months, and—" He shut up.
Joining him on the sidewalk in the dry hot shade of an enormous cedar tree, she lied, "I'm not tired. If you start opening doors for me in public view, the whole world's going to find out I'm pregnant."
"Yeah." He grimaced. "Treating you like another guy just goes against my instincts."
"And always has," she said, sotto voce, only he heard her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know."
He blocked her way up the sidewalk. "No, I don't. Tell me."
She thrust out her chin. "You don't like women cops."
He braced his hands on his hips. "Have I ever treated you differently than I would a man?"
You screwed me in the back seat of your Explorer, she had the sense not to say.
"You don't like to let me drive."
"That," he said with a growl, "is because you don't focus. For God's sake, your head is turning because a damn rose is in bloom or a new antique shop has opened! I'm a better driver."
Nell flushed, because she had remarked on both when she was behind the wheel. "Cops are supposed to be observant."
"We're looking for criminal activity, not home gardening tips."
Good time to shift direction. "You were ticked when the captain assigned me to work with you."
He threw his hands up. "Big shock! We've never gotten along. You think like a woman, not a cop."
Her
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