Page 47 of Just Friends

Rebecca laughed. “They seem to love their uncle.”

“He’s so wonderful with them.” Cindy smiled. Rebecca could see the next thought in that smile and willed her not to go there. “He’ll make a great dad one day.” She said it. Rebecca busied with arranging the pans. “Dalton,” she added her voice lower so they couldn’t hear, “knows what a crappy father is and works very hard to be a good one…They’re both good men.”

“Yeah, I’ve been friends with him for four years.” She hoped to end this discussion.

“So, how long have you two been together?”

Together? As in a couple? Well, she needed to answer something quick. The first time they’d slept together was just as good as any. “Two weeks.” Seems she was now in a two-week relationship with Weasel. Wonder what he’d think about that?

Cindy beamed. “Normally, I’d say it was too fast to meet family. But you two have known each other for so long, and are so cute together. I’m so happy he brought you.”

Even though Cindy’s comments made her sweat profusely, she was glad too. “Me too.”

Sixteen

Rebecca stared out the window of the SUV as Weasel drove through town to the other side to climb the plateau to his cabin. Her mind on dinner and Weasel’s family. Growing up with the lack of a steady parental figure cast him in a new light. And Dalton had to raise his brothers when nothing more than a child himself. It was a wonder that either of them became as well-adjusted as they were. Weaselwas far more than the first impression she had; he never attempted to change anyone’s opinion of his reputation. He simplylived. It’d be easier to keep him relegated to the “not a serious contender for a relationship” category when he was only an obnoxious man whore. Now, he was taking a significant chunk out the wall she’d built. And her mom had suggested bringing Stanleyto Chicago. That meant leaving.

“You’re quiet,” Weasel said.

“Just tired,” she replied not wanting to discuss it.

Weasel reached over and placed a hand on her leg. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Running her fingers over his.

“Hope my family wasn’t overwhelming.”

“Not at all, they’re lovely.”

“Not Edna.”

Rebecca laughed. “Edna liked me.”

“Yeah, you didn’t getgrabbed by the ear.” Weasel chuckled. “Thanks for going.”

Rebecca nodded. “A heads up woulda been nice.”

“I won’t do that again.”

???

They arrived at the cabin, and he told Rebecca to help herself to the shower. If she invited him in, he wouldn’t say no, but he’d let her relax alone. In the car, he hadn’t pressed, but got the sense thatthe wheels were turning in her brain and unsureif they were favorable or not. Maybe she’d open up about any concerns at some point. Forcing the issue had never worked out.

He hoped that meeting his family didn’t come acrosslike he was pushing too fast. It wasn’t his intent. With Dalton, Cindy, and his nephews, he wasn’t justa tough but wild and crazy cop. Weasel wanted her to know him better than anyone else, and that was scary. What if she knew and still rejected him?

Weasel tossed his badge onto the dresser and stored the weapon in the gun safe. His thoughts wandered to the woman naked in his bathroomand shook his head at his body’s automatic response. He was like a teenager again. He changed and made his way into the living room starting the fireplace and searching the television guide for a romantic comedy he could put on for her.

When Rebecca entered, he sat on the couch nursing a glass of whiskey. Her wet curls cascaded over her shoulders, no makeup, and a large nightshirt that fell to her knees. Legs bare and in a pair of fluffy socks, she was gorgeous, but had no idea, and he couldn’t breathe. Ben was right; he was in love. Crossing the room, she curled up next to him on the couch under a blanket he held up for her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hoping to get his lips on her.

“How did you end up becoming a police officer?”

Okay, she wanted to talk. “Ah yes, how did I go from burgeoning criminal to upholding the law?”

Rebecca laughed. “I never said criminal.”

“Would have been correct,” he said, pulling Rebecca closer and kissing the top of her head. “Well, as kids we stole food.” She gasped. Weasel nodded and continued, “We had assistance and would get stuff from the food pantry, butthree boys and a drunk go through food. Sometimes the old man would sell the food stamps for beer money. Dalton would try to intercept the mail and pretend he never saw it if the old man asked. So, we’d lift stuff here and there from the grocery. Had to be obvious whatwe were doing; couldn’t have been that good.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No one reported it to Children’s Services?”