Cavanaugh on Duty(27)

She could have before, but she couldn’t now. Not if they were going to make the ceremony despite any traffic snarls. “Sorry, you already used that up. Just grab a sports jacket, if you have one, out of your closet and let’s go,” she instructed in a no-nonsense voice that matched her expression. “I hate being late.”

“Then by all means, go on ahead,” he suggested amicably, gesturing toward his front door. “I’ll take my car.”

Did he think she was born half an hour ago? She was not about to take her eyes off the elusive Fernandez.

“No,” Kari informed him sternly, “you won’t. And what kind of fool do you take me for? Now, if you don’t want to grab a jacket, that’s fine, too. But you are coming with me to the wedding.”

Resigned, Esteban paused to grab a dress jacket from his hall closet, then led the way out his front door, since he could see that pretending to follow her out just wasn’t going to fly with this woman.

“Have you ever given a thought to being a dominatrix?” he wanted to know, slanting a glance in her direction to see her reaction to the question. He reasoned that she would either display a sense of humor—or an offended sense of morality.

Kari never blinked. “Maybe as a second career option after I retire from the force.”

Esteban laughed in response. It was the kind of laugh back then that had instantly caught her attention and had gone a long way to captivating her heart, as well. Infectious, compelling, genuine, it was a sound that a person couldn’t remain indifferent to.

She’d made a breakthrough, Kari thought, silently congratulating herself. A breakthrough that allowed her to bridge the past and the present for her reluctant partner.

She felt like cheering.

“Where’d you learn that move you used on me in the apartment?” he asked her out of the blue as she started her car.

Since she was watching the road, he only saw her profile, but he could make out the corner of her mouth curving. What he saw of the smile was enough to rope him in.

He found himself being tantalized. Against his will, he recalled the way her mouth felt against his that night she came bearing whiskey and arguments.

“I could answer that,” she told him. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

Esteban surprised her by saying, “It might be worth it.”

It wasn’t a secret, really—just something she had picked up a few years back and never forgotten. It was the kind of move that gave you confidence and made you feel less vulnerable in the world.

“I went to college with this girl who came from Israel. Shula’s whole family was either in the military or involved in an agency that was her country’s equivalent of our CIA. She was the only girl, and her father, uncles and brothers were very protective of her. They taught her all sorts of things she could use to stay safe. She passed some of those maneuvers on to me,” she explained.

“And did she?” Esteban asked her. “Stay safe?” he added when she didn’t answer his question.

She’d lost touch with the dark-eyed young woman after graduation. Something she regretted, but it couldn’t be helped. They both had lives waiting for them after graduation. Kari had always wanted to join the force, and Shula, most likely, was a spy by now.

“Last I heard,” she said.

“So you have any more moves I should know about?” Esteban asked wryly.

This time, she spared him a look and smiled.

He found her smile not just intriguing, but pretty damn compelling. If he didn’t know better, he would have said he could feel himself being reeled in.

And resistance, he discovered, as the saying went, was futile.

“I have lots of moves, Fernandez. Cross me and you’ll find out just how many,” she promised in a voice that might have been used to describe a favorite episode of a beloved television series.

“I’ll pass,” he responded, adding, “maybe some other time. But right now I have this wedding I’m supposed to be attending.”

Kari grinned, relieved that her stubborn partner had apparently finally made his peace with coming to her father’s wedding. And she hadn’t even had to hog-tie him. She supposed this was progress.

“Yes,” she agreed, “you do.”

They turned down a long tree-lined block. By their towering size, it was evident that the trees had been there a very long time.

“Hey, Hyphen,” he said to her, “answer a question for me.”

Inwardly, she braced herself, knowing that nothing was ever really easy with this man. She supposed that was what kept it interesting. “Shoot.”

“If I still had refused to come with you, would you really have strong-armed me into coming?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she took another right turn. This one brought her onto one of the main thoroughfares that ran practically the length of Aurora and would eventually lead to her uncle’s house.

“With my dying breath, Fernandez,” she told him. “With my dying breath.”

There wasn’t a hint of a smile on her lips.

Suppressing a grin of his own, Esteban had a feeling that she was actually being serious.

Kari had obviously done a lot of growing up since she’d been that quiet girl with those mesmerizing eyes back in high school, he thought.

Who would have ever guessed?





Chapter 13



He was absorbed the moment he and Kari stepped over the threshold into the house already teeming with earlier arrivals.

There was no other way to describe what happened to him, except for that word.

Absorbed.

He wasn’t prepared for it.

Esteban had spent so many years literally being on the outside while pretending to be someone he wasn’t. The trouble was, he’d been that other “person” for so long and had done such a good, believable job of it—until someone had ratted him out—that now he wasn’t sure how to be himself or even who that actually was.

Consequently, he entered the home of Andrew Cavanaugh without an identity intact.

And they accepted him anyway.

For the past couple of weeks or so, Esteban had worked among them—it was hard going anywhere in the station without tripping over a Cavanaugh—not to mention that the beguiling partner that had been thrust on him was one of them. But even so, coming to this wedding, he’d thought that he would be on the outside looking in. Just as usual.

Instead, he was immediately considered to be “in.” Immediately accepted and welcomed.

Just like that.

Andrew Cavanaugh, the host of this major family event, had opened the door for them himself. After hugging Kari, the man unexpectedly clasped his hand and shook it heartily, his booming voice filling the foyer as he greeted him.

“So you’re the new guy I’ve been hearing so much about.” Then the former chief of police laughed, still holding Esteban’s hand as he drew him into the house. “Don’t look so worried, Detective. It’s all good,” Andrew assured the younger man.

“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, who have you been hearing all this from?” Esteban asked.

Finally breaking the physical connection, Andrew merely smiled and said, “Reliable sources. That’s all you need to know. Either of you,” he added, his penetrating look sweeping over both his niece and her new partner.

“Go,” he urged. “Get yourselves something to eat, something to drink, and mingle. The ceremony’s going to start soon.” He looked at Kari. “Your uncle’s about ready to officiate. He’s getting set up in the back.” And then Andrew paused for a moment, looking pointedly at Esteban. “He might still need help with the altar,” he speculated. His inference was clear: he wanted Esteban to pitch in and get involved.

“Altar?” Esteban asked, not quite sure he’d heard correctly.

Andrew nodded. “It’s actually something some of the boys rigged up. Mostly it looks like a wooden arch with flowers woven through it,” he told them. He gestured toward the back. “It’s that way. I’ll see you both out back for the ceremony,” he said in parting.

Kari flashed her uncle a smile, then turned back to Esteban. “Guess we’d better go out back,” she said before leading the way through the crowd.

The backyard, like the living room they had just threaded their way through, was a hive of activity in absolutely every direction. It was enough, Esteban thought, to make a man’s head spin.

“One of your uncles is performing the wedding?” he asked her, somewhat surprised.

She nodded even as she scanned the area for the man in question. “My uncle Adam is a priest.”

“A priest?” Esteban echoed, puzzled. “I thought that all the Cavanaughs were involved in some area of law enforcement.”

“You thought right,” she confirmed. “They are, one way or another. My uncle Adam is a Cavelli,” she told him, then went on to explain further. “That’s the last name of the family my dad thought he belonged to. The family he grew up with. He thought he had four brothers and sisters—before he discovered he was a Cavanaugh. Now there are a lot more relatives.”