Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (21 page)

Now
understanding, Carrie laughed softly. “Yeah, the dart boards with Trent’s
picture as the bull’s-eye. I’ve seen them. At first I thought Sam had dedicated
a dart board wall to himself, but who would put their own face on a wall of dart
boards?”

Pascal
chuckled. “Not Sam. And if he did, no one would dare toss a dart at it.”

She relaxed.
“So you know Sam?”

Leaning back,
he nodded. “Fought together in the war.”

“I didn’t know
Sam fought in a war. Which one?”

“Iraq.”

She stuck out
her hand. “Then let me thank you for serving our country.”

He shook her
hand and held on to it long after the handshake ended. “So you didn’t tell me
what it’s like working for your boss.”

With a roll of
her eyes, she asked, “Now or when he first hired me?”

Glancing at
his watch, he said, “I’ve got a half hour ‘til I’m back on duty. Give me both.”

Carrie
entertained Officer Pascal with many stories of Trent’s good intentions gone
wrong when applied to the worst employees in the world.

When his phone
buzzed, he read the text and rose. “Well, my lunch break is over and your ride
is here.”

Carrie stood
up in shock. “I can go?”

“Let me just
verify that with the chief as we pass by his office, but assuming Jenson has
given him her report, I can’t imagine why he would keep you any longer.”

“I’m so happy
you arrived when you did.” She paused. “Although, I wouldn’t have minded sooner
either. I don’t think I would’ve survived running in circles for much longer.”
She shook her head as she recalled the never-ending questions. “Can you tell me
the purpose of asking the same stuff over and over?”

“If a person
is lying, asking the same questions repeatedly usually causes them to change
their story. Unfortunately, the guys screwed up and didn’t ask for your story
first.” He paused. “I’m assuming you hadn’t told any of them about calling 911
and telling them it wasn’t a bomb.”

“I told the
first guy, but no one else asked me a question related to the call or why I
screamed ‘bomb’.”

He sighed and
led her out into the main room. As they walked by a glass office in the center,
a white-haired man pushed out of his chair and came to his door. “May I speak
with you a moment, Miss Hanson. Come in, as well, Officer Pascal.”

Please
don’t arrest me. Please don’t
—

“Miss Hanson,
I apologize for how long it took to get this matter straightened out. Police
work is a mix of procedure and instinct, and sometimes those two very different
qualities fail to find the right balance. Now, Detective Pascal balances the
two amazingly well.”

“Officer
Jenson was very good too,” Carrie added, knowing being a woman in this field
had to be hard.

He smiled and
nodded. “Yes, I’m going to keep my eye on her from now on,” he said, then
paused. His brow furrowed as he met her gaze. “When you leave here, you may be
approached by a lawyer who wishes to sue us.”

She stopped
him at once. “I would never sue the police for doing their job. Besides, I did
cause this by yelling bomb.”

“And saved all
the people who stood outside the cafe,” the police chief added.

“Yes, but I
realized afterward I could’ve gotten them to move another way?”

“How?”
Detective Pascal asked.

“Declare a box
of unscratched lotto games lay in the street.”

Both the chief
and Pascal laughed.

The chief
gripped her hand with both of his. “If you ever get in a situation where you
think a police chief might be of use, you give me a call.”

She nodded and
left. The nice policeman followed her out. “Detective—can I call you that,
since the chief did?”

“Call me
Joey.”

She liked that
even better. “Joey, did you laugh at my lotto solution because you thought me
clever or because you thought it ridiculous?”

“The first. We
had a situation where several boxes of lotto tickets fell off a truck and split
open. Before the driver could pull the truck over and retrieve the boxes, the
area turned into a piranha feast. All quiet one moment, and the next, traffic
screeches to a halt in all directions, while hundreds of people fight to reach
the source of potential wealth. We had to go in with horses. Neither cars nor
police on foot could get anywhere.”

They exited
the police station and a second later, Trent, sans nose bandage, ran up the
steps. “Thank God you’re out! My high-priced lawyer failed to do half his job.”
He frowned at Pascal. “She is out, isn’t she? Because I’m telling you now, if
you’re just moving her to another precinct, I’m coming with you. If my driver
didn’t know someone in the police force, I would still be going from police
station to police station demanding her release.”

Officer Pascal
chuckled. “Sam’s friend in the police force would be me. And Miss Hanson is
free to go.”

“Hold on. Who
paid her bail?”

“We didn’t
charge her with anything.”

Trent went
from happy to outraged in less than a second. “That’s insane. I save her life,
for which I am arrested, thrown in a waiting cell, and forced to pay a million
dollar bond while she, who caused the whole mess, gets off scot-free?”

Detective
Pascal’s face turned hard in an instant. “Would you like me to go back and
charge her with a felony or two? I could hit her with inciting a riot for
yelling bomb. She could get eight years in a federal prison. And we have her on
tape confessing, so a conviction is almost certain.”

Trent turned
his rage on Carrie. “You talked to the police without a lawyer? What is wrong
with you, today? You’re usually so smart. First, risking your life to rescue
paper from the sidewalk and now talking to the police. Don’t you know innocent
people die and go to jail all the time?”

“Well, I was a
free woman until you showed up,” Carrie snapped in return. “And for your
information, I don’t have a lawyer on retainer. You could’ve shared yours.”

“I tried, but
when I told him we’d been arrested and he had to get us out, for some reason,
he thought I’d referred to myself in the royal ‘we.’”

Carrie dropped
her head to hide her laughter. She could very well understand how his lawyer
might think such a thing. No king could be more into himself than Trent.

“Now look,
you’ve made her cry,” Trent yelled and pulled her into his arms. “Frightening
her with the threat of prison. You’ll never win the case. My lawyer will have
her free by tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t you
rather her be free now?” Joey asked.

“Yes, of
course!”

“Then take her
and go.” He leaned down so he could see Carrie’s face. “Pleasure to meet you,
Miss Carrie Hanson.”

She
straightened up and smiled. “Same here, Detective Joey Pascal.” After shaking
his hand, she used the back of her hands to wipe her eyes dry.

“Damn it!
She’s crying again.” Trent pulled her against his side. “We’re leaving.”

Pascal smiled.
“You’re welcome and have a good day.”

Trent intended
to turn and have the last word. He loved having the last word.

“Leave it!”
Carrie warned using the voice she’d learned from watching the
Dog Whisperer
.
Amazingly, his attention returned to her.

She patted his
arm. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m
not! I’m going to sue that smart-ass cop and the precinct. Did you get his
name? They had no right to arrest you!”

“They just did
their job.”

“How is
arresting a man performing a heroic deed and questioning the poor idiot he
saved ‘doing their job’?”

While she
hadn’t actually seen the black blur that slammed her against the car, she did
recall Mars’ comments from this morning. “I blame your headwear. What hero
wears a gangster hat?”

Her comment
silenced him for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he sounded far more
subdued. “I’m telling Mars to destroy all my hats.”

“You could
give them to a charity?”

“So the poor,
who can’t afford a lawyer, wear them and get arrested while buying a carton of
milk. Not a chance.”

He stuffed her
into the back seat and slipped in beside her.

“Where to,
Master Trent?” Sam asked as he pulled out into the traffic.

Trent leaned
back and closed his eyes. “Home.”

Sam glanced in
the rearview mirror. “The big one or the tall one?”

Trent frowned,
but answered, “The penthouse.”

“Can we stop
by the office first?” Carrie asked.

Both men
answered in unison. “No!”

“But our customers’
tax IDs are lying on the street, waiting to be stolen!”

“No, the bomb
squad carted it all away when one of the dogs started barking,” Sam stated.

Carrie’s eyes
rounded in shock. “Someone put a real bomb in one of those cabinets?”

“Nope. Turned
out a bottle of Master Trent’s cologne excited the female dog.”

Carrie looked
at Trent. “You kept a bottle of cologne in my file cabinets?”

“I thought
someone might be using my cologne, so I put it in the back of the top drawer of
the always-locked file cabinets.”

Carrie
returned her attention to Sam. “And because their dog liked Trent’s cologne,
the bomb squad gathered up all the papers and took them to a secure facility?”

“Yep,” Sam
said.

She leaned her
head on Trent’s chest. “I really, really love your cologne.”

He wanted to
reply, “Not nearly as much as I love you,” but feared his admission might send
her fleeing from the moving car and into the street, where she would become a
grill ornament on some taxi.

He tightened
his arm around her. “As long as it makes you happy.” Closing his eyes, he
breathed out, finally able to calm.

The moment
he’d spotted the filing cabinet tipping out the window just above where Carrie
knelt and gathered paper, his feelings for her had crystallized. He didn’t just
need her, he loved her. He couldn’t imagine a world without her. So without any
thought to his safety, he’d saved her. Then the police inexplicably arrested
him. But, finally, they were headed home, where no one would drop anything on
their heads—Mars would never allow such a thing.

Thank God, he’d
gone after her. Otherwise, she’d be dead now. His heart quickened as panic set
in just at the thought. No! He would not allow a future without her. Carrie
Hanson was his! Neither God nor anyone else could have her.

He found her
first.
If God needs Heaven to operate better, he can call up someone else,
but he best leave my EA alone.

He pressed his
lips to her forehead. “Just to be clear, I do not hold you responsible for
today’s debacles and my million dollars currently tied up with a bondsman.”

“You should
only have a hundred thousand tied up. A bondsman usually asks for 10 percent.”

He smiled.
“Really? Well then, you have nothing to feel guilty about. A hundred grand is
chump change.”

Her forehead
acquired little worry crinkles. He had a great desire to kiss them away. “I’m
sure my lawyer will have the charges dropped and my money returned in short
order …well, to his account, then he’ll send me a bill for the rest.”

She tilted her
face upward, concern etched on her beautiful face. “I don’t understand why the
police arrested you at all. This was entirely my fault. Had I not tried to get
the people off the sidewalk—”

“There you
have it. The police clearly do not approve of good Samaritans saving others.”

She petted his
suit sleeve, no doubt feeling responsible, even though he told her she wasn’t
at fault. “Did you tell them why you grabbed me?” she asked.

“Good heavens,
no! That would require me to talk to them and, unlike one foolish young woman,
I waited for my lawyer to talk for me.”

Her brow
furrowed deeper. “If your lawyer explained that you saved me, why did you have
to post a million dollar bail?”

Excellent
question. But before he called David and demanded an explanation, he recalled
his failure to give David the name of the precinct. He supposed it possible
that by the time David arrived at the station, he hadn’t had time to ferret out
the truth. Or perhaps he realized Trent would value getting home far more than
the money. However, Trent had no intention of mentioning to Carrie he hung up
his phone too soon.

“David knows a
Lancaster never explains himself. Or perhaps he likes a challenge. I imagine
being a lawyer is a tedious occupation.”

She snuggled
against his chest. “Well, I’m glad he found you or I would’ve had to find and
break you out of jail myself.”

He smiled.
“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.
“We’re a team, you and I.”

“That we are.”
Trent smiled.

Mars opened
the door when Trent and Carrie returned from their near deaths and day in jail.
“I have drawn you a bath, sir.”

“Why?” Trent
asked. He didn’t want Carrie to think him an overly pampered fop.

His butler
raised his right eyebrow a half inch. “Given the hellish day you’ve endured, I
thought you might enjoy a moment of relaxation.”

“Wrong as
always,” Trent snapped.

Carrie raised
her hand.

Mars focused
on her. “Perhaps Miss Hanson would care for a bath of soothing salts, certain
to ease tired muscles and improve the temperament?”

She nodded
with excitement.

Trent wanted
to take his bath back since his temperament greatly needed soothing. Only how
could he?

“We’ll arm wrestle
for it,” he said and pulled her along to his room.

Once inside,
he faced her. “Any chance you’d be willing to share your bath?”

Her eyes
rounded in shock.

Afraid his
question would send her running to the safety of her New Jersey home, he
retracted his suggestion. “Never mind. The bath is yours.”

He tried to
leave the room but she gripped his hand and leaned back to counter his forward
progression. He still pulled her along several feet before he stopped and faced
her.

“I shouldn’t
have suggested it,” he said, fearing he’d pushed too hard.

She shook her
head, her expression more of concern than repulsion. “Do you have swim trunks?”

“Yes, but I
can’t imagine my driver packed you a swimsuit for your stay here.”

“No, but I
have sportswear made of similar material.”

Carrie always
had a solution to his every problem. “Then let’s stop talking and get in our
bath.”

“I’ll change
in the bathroom and you dress out here.” She grabbed a top and pair of shorts
from her suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom.

Smiling, he rifled
his drawers for his swim trunks. Unable to find them, he went in search of
Mars. He found him in the servant’s living room. His butler and driver were
sharing a bowl of popcorn while they watched the video footage of Trent
grabbing Carrie a half-second before a file cabinet crushed them. A second
later, they both smashed into the car.

Sam laughed.
“Ouch, that had to hurt.”

“It did.”
Trent took some pleasure in watching both men jump up in shock and face him. He
ignored his driver and focused on Mars. “Where have you hidden my swim trunks?”

Mars blinked
twice. “I believe your swim trunks reside at your Long Island estate, given its
closer proximity to your pool.”

He could never
tell if his butler was prone to sarcasm or just overly fact-oriented. Mars
reminded him a great deal of Mr. Spock, whom he could easily imagine stating
such nonsense.

“Well, I need
swim trunks and I need them now. Carrie and I have decided to share the tub. Thus,
we both require swimwear.”

Sam furrowed
his brow like one of those wrinkled dogs. “But I didn’t pack any swimwear for
her.”

“She’s wearing
sportswear.”

Mars spoke up
at once. “Perhaps you could do the same, so Miss Carrie will not feel out of
place. You have several nice running shorts.”

“I do? Where?”

“Four rows
across, two down, back left corner.”

Trent returned
to his room and sure enough, he had running shorts, which to the best of his
knowledge, he’d never seen nor worn before.

Upon knocking
on the door and hearing “come in,” he entered the bathroom. He could only see
Carrie’s beautiful face. The rest of her hid beneath a layer of bubbles.

“I don’t
recall the mention of bubbles,” he complained. Yet, seeing her so relaxed and
happy, he decided to drop his objection.

He wanted to
slide in behind her and hold her in his arms, but resisted. Bathing together
seemed intimate on its own. Best not to frighten her off. Thus, he entered the
bath on the opposite side from her and sat so they faced one another with eight
feet of space between them.
Why did I order the largest spa bath in
existence?

His arrival
caused her to sit up straight and study him with worried eyes.

God, did she
think he planned to rape her?

Her chin
tilted up, like a brave soldier facing the death squad. “I’m really sorry I
caused all this trouble.”

“What? No. You
didn’t cause today’s fiasco,” he insisted, all the while worried he may have
said otherwise earlier. While purchasing the purple chair and wearing tennis
shoes did have a direct bearing on how the chips fell, they certainly had no
rational connection. It’s not as if she could say, “If I buy this purple chair
and insist on keeping it, a deranged employee will probably push five file
cabinets onto the sidewalk. And if I wear these tennis shoes and walk to work, instead
of waiting for my boss, one of those file cabinets might crush me into
oblivion.”

Her eyes
turned glassy with unspent tears. “But I did. If I hadn’t made such a fuss over
my purple chair…”

Damn it, she
was
going there. He refused to have this conversation over a sea of bubbles.
Swimming to her side, he lifted her up and settled himself behind her. “You’re
not to blame for today’s events.”

“That’s not
true. You even called me an idiot—”

“I become an
ass when I’m frightened, and seeing a cabinet crashing down on my most valuable
EA scared the hell out of me.” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “I’m
sorry.”

“But you
are
mad at me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Evidence
proves otherwise,” she grumbled and hugged her arms tight around her waist.

“What
evidence?”

“You wanted
Detective Pascal to arrest me for a felony.”

“No. I merely
tried to make a point that justice failed in
my
case. Saving a person’s
life should not warrant the arrest of the hero.”

“You’re right.
They had no cause to take you in. I’m sorry I caused that too.”

He shook her
in slow sweeping moves to each side. “You didn’t get me arrested. Police
without the sense of a turtle arrested me. I’m mad at
them
, not you. And
my lawyer. I’m mad at him for failing to take care of you.”

“Then why did
you take so long to join me in my bath and then sit as far away as possible
when you got in the tub?”

“I couldn’t
find my swim trunks, so I had to track down Mars and ask him where they might
be. He informed me they probably resided in Long Island, in order to be in
closer to my pool.”

Carrie
chuckled.

His arms
tightened. “Think that’s funny, do you?”

She shook her
head as she chuckled more.

“I’ll show you
funny.” He tickled her ribs.

She squirmed
and twisted until she rolled completely over and faced him. Her tiny hands
grasped his arms to stop her torture. He could’ve easily broken away, but he
let her win. God, he'd do anything for his tiny EA.

Before Carrie,
his jaded outlook saw an ulterior motive in a woman’s every action, always
suspecting a trap. Not with Carrie.

For example,
right now he had a delicious view of her breasts. While her sport top might be
a
similar
material to her swimsuit, the white fabric became sheer when
plunged in water.

Noticing his
focus, she flipped back around and covered her chest with both arms. “Sorry.”

He pulled her
tight against him and whispered in her ear. “For the record, I hadn’t lodged a
complaint.”

“I didn’t
realize the white fabric would disappear.”

“Don’t worry
about it. Just lie back and let the water fulfill Mars’ promises. If it
doesn’t, then I’ll chase him down and throw him in the bath.”

“I’m getting
out before you do.”

He chuckled.
“I should hope so.” She relaxed against his chest, and when the bubbles went to
suds heaven, he enjoyed a very stirring view of her formerly white top and
shorts. Perhaps too stirring. He shifted her to the left so she might remain
unaware of his growing excitement down under.

As the water
started to chill, he reached over and re-engaged the jets.

“Tubs going to
overflow,” she muttered in a drowsy voice. Her hand fluttered around his ass.
Finally, she flipped over so she could search behind his back. Sighing in
frustration, she looked up at him. “I can’t find the drain lever.”

He pointed to
a lever on the top ridge. She pushed it and the back of his pants yanked down
over the drain. He turned off the water and shut the drain.

Knowing she’d
feel embarrassed about her see-through clothes, he climbed out and put on his
robe then brought her a towel and placed it on the wide edge of the tub. “I’ll
change in the bedroom then go check on matters with Mars. You look exhausted.
Why don’t you rest in bed once you dry off?”

She shook her
head. “I’m fine.” Then a giant yawn burst free.

“You’re more
than fine. But as your boss, I’m ordering you to get some sleep.”

“I’m not on
the job right now.”

He smiled and
knelt beside her. “All right. As your best friend, I’m asking you to get some
sleep. You’re exhausted. If you don’t, I’ll worry myself sick over you.”

A happy grin
appeared on her adorable face. “Okay, I’ll try, but I’m not sure I can go to
sleep so early.”

“Would it help
if you had someone to snuggle with?”

She grinned.
“Spooning does help.”

“Then dry and
come to bed. We’ll call an end to this day.” He’d almost called it a
hellish
day, and while portions of it had been just that, right this moment he felt
happier than he’d ever been.