Perfect Fit (Serendipity's Finest) - By Carly Phillips Page 0,20

can get in your car and drive home.”

“Bossy,” she muttered, as she pulled his jacket tighter around herself for warmth.

Okay, so she wasn’t bolting, and relief gripped him. He grabbed her hand and led her down the street from where her parents lived, then around the corner to Lynette’s. The small diner on the corner was a favorite of locals and cops assigned here.

He opened the door, allowing her to step ahead of him inside. At this hour it was fairly empty, and they walked to the back, slipping into a booth. Instead of sitting across the table, Mike slid in right beside her, intentionally crowding into her personal space.

“What are you doing?” she asked, still defensive, probably from embarrassment.

He couldn’t hold back a grin. “Using you for body heat.”

She shot him a disbelieving stare.

“What? You have my jacket and it’s January, remember?” That and he just wanted to be close to her.

He hadn’t gotten over the heat they’d generated in his apartment, and though he wouldn’t make a sexual overture when she was vulnerable, he still wanted her. And his body demanded he stay close. A part of him he didn’t recognize wanted to take care of her now that she was upset, but again he refused to look at that too closely.

“What are you doing here so late?” Lynette, the diner owner, a heavyset woman in her midfifties, came over with a pot of coffee in her hand.

“Just warming up,” Mike said to her.

“Cara, honey, want some coffee?” she asked.

Mike wasn’t surprised Lynette knew Cara by name, what with her having grown up in the neighborhood and being given shifts here.

“Can I get tea? Something decaf?” Cara asked. “I’ll never sleep if I have caffeine.”

“Sure thing. Plain old decaffeinated or chamomile?”

“Chamomile sounds great, Lynette. Thanks.”

“What about you, Mr. Police Chief? Coffee?”

Mike nodded. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later, they each had their drinks and Lynette had disappeared into the back.

Cara wrapped her hand around her cup, closed her eyes, and sighed, clearly savoring the warmth, making Mike glad he’d pushed the issue and brought her here.

After giving her a few minutes of silence, he broached conversation. “So.”

Her eyes popped open. “What?” she asked warily. “Do you want to know how often my father drinks? Loses his temper? Throws things? Hits people?”

Instead of making him angry, her defensive tone melted his heart. “I don’t want to know anything you don’t want to tell me, Cara. I just wanted to give you a few minutes to calm down before you drove home.”

“Oh.” Her eyelashes fluttered down. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“Embarrassed,” he finished for her.

“Yeah.”

“Well, there’s no need to be. I’m not judging you by your father’s actions or your mother’s behavior,” he assured her.

“What about judging me for not going in and checking on my mother?” She held herself tight and stiff, backing herself into the corner, as far from him as she could get.

Which wasn’t far. He stretched his arm behind the seat, reaching her hair. Grateful to have some part of her to touch, he wound a strand around his fingers. “Why would I judge you for that?”

She exhaled a long breath, and some of the starch left her shoulders. “I’ve done all I can for her. If I go in, if I beg her to leave, if I make him angrier, all I’m doing is enabling the entire screwed-up situation.” Frustrated tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

He knew better than to comment about those. “There’s no need to defend yourself to me. You’re talking to someone whose genetics are questionable at best,” he said, bringing up the subject he abhorred. “My real father walked out, never to be heard from again.”

Mike sure as hell wasn’t enough to make the man want to stick around. Nor was he enough for the rest of his family. He’d always figured they were better off without him there.

“And pretty soon you and I are about to investigate something that my gut tells me will end badly for my whole family. So don’t expect me to pass judgment. I’m here, I’ll listen, but I’m sure as hell not going to look down on you for any choices you make.” He paused, then admitted, “Frankly, I think you’re doing the right thing.”

“Really?” She looked up at him, her eyes so moist and big, and he realized how fragile she was deep down inside.

“Yeah, really.” Then, not giving her a choice, he pulled her back beside him.