and climbed inside.
He waited until she started the truck and pulled away from the curb. What a complicated woman, he thought, watching as she drove away.
There was much more to Cara Hartley than he’d realized before. And he was drawn to the many facets of her personality: the strong cop, the vulnerable woman, and everything in between. She aroused warm and protective feelings he didn’t recognize. Ones that would normally send him running. Hell, as much as he’d liked going out with Tiffany back in the day, her constant phone calls and neediness nearly choked the life out of him. She’d always told him she relied and counted on him, but Mike didn’t want to be needed that way. By anyone.
Just like his old man, Mike thought in disgust. Which was why with every job and woman, Mike made a point of being up front with his intentions. Even Mike’s sergeant in New York knew that when a case ended, if Mike felt the need to go—he would. Luckily the variety of assignments in the city kept him interested. The women? Not so much. But Mike wasn’t bolting from Cara, despite the bouts of awareness that told him he should be panicking.
He couldn’t. Because Cara had a grip on Mike that wasn’t letting go. Which meant he was in it for the duration.
Besides, there was no downside, he reasoned. When Simon recovered, Mike would step down as chief of police; he would leave town as he’d planned all along.
Cara always felt a mix of admiration, gratitude, and envy when she visited the Marsden house. She appreciated the sense of family they shared and wished with all her heart she had the same for herself. But she’d long since stopped pining for things she couldn’t have. Instead she appreciated the fact that they included her on occasion. Today felt different because she wasn’t coming at Sam’s request, but Mike’s. She didn’t know why he’d asked her or what it meant, but she’d promised herself she’d take the invitation at face value. Dinner with a family she’d always felt close to, that was all.
She rang the doorbell and Ella Marsden greeted her almost immediately. “Cara! I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, opening the screen door to let her inside.
“I appreciate you having me on such short notice.” Cara stepped into the foyer.
“Nonsense. We love having you. Now what’s that?” Ella asked, glancing at the foil-covered pan Cara was holding.
“Lasagna. I thought you and Simon could freeze it and eat it on a day when you aren’t up to cooking.” When Cara had called, Ella insisted Cara didn’t need to bring anything tonight, not dessert or side dishes. As usual, she had it handled.
That was fine, but Cara knew how tired the older woman had to be, taking care of and worrying about her husband. Flowers seemed like a useless thank-you, so Cara had gone shopping early that morning for the ingredients and made the dish when she got home.
She held out the pan for Ella to take.
“Thank you.” Ella accepted the food and tipped her head, indicating that Cara should follow her into the kitchen. She passed through the family room where Simon dozed in his recliner and caught a glimpse of the wall of family photos, pausing for a closer look.
She had to smile at the variations on the family photo that changed over the years as the kids grew up. Sam and Erin were lighter in coloring than Mike, both resembling their mother and Simon. For the first time, Cara wondered what Mike’s real father looked like, whether his hair was as dark as his son’s, his eyes like delicious hot chocolate.
“Cara?” Ella called.
“Coming!” Cara headed for the kitchen, a smile still on her face. “I was just looking at the pictures on the wall.”
Ella smiled too, but Cara noticed the strain around her eyes and mouth, small lines that hadn’t been there last time she’d seen her. “They make me happy too. Let’s sit. The boys aren’t here yet, and Erin said she’s running late.”
Cara joined Ella at the table, declining her offer of a soft drink.
“So how are you?” the older woman asked.
“I’m good. Busy, which I like. Between work and volunteering at Havensbridge, I don’t have much downtime.”
Ella nodded. “I’m thinking of doing some volunteer work myself once Simon’s back to himself. Maybe driving cancer patients to the hospital for treatment or reading to the children who are inpatient there.”
“That’s sweet,” Cara said. “What