Cavanaugh Hero (16 page)

Charley really wasn’t expecting anyone to attend the funeral. Matt got along well with the people he worked with, but he’d always kept his professional life and his private life separated. He didn’t get together with his friends from work once he walked out of the precinct at night.

Moreover, because of this killer, there were a number of other funerals to go to. That was why she was surprised when the church not only filled up with people coming to pay their last respects, but by the time the ceremony started, there was standing room only.

A number of people, including the chief of detectives, all came up to the pulpit to share a few words, in some cases a few stories about the deceased, with the mourners.

Charley found herself fighting tears throughout the ceremony and then again at the cemetery. A lot of the faces she recognized as people she’d met at Andrew Cavanaugh’s house when she’d gone with Declan for breakfast.

She was at a loss for words.

When the service at the grave site was over, she became aware of the fact that Declan was watching over her.

When had he put his arm protectively around her? She couldn’t remember.

“Ready?” he asked.

She knew what he was asking. If she was ready to leave. He gave her the impression that he was prepared to stay as long as she needed him to.

Charley nodded her head. “Ready.” He began to usher her toward his car. She looked around her at all the people who had turned out for her brother. Her heart felt close to bursting.

“I should have prepared something,” she said with regret. “I should have put together a reception. I just didn’t think there’d be so many people coming to the service.”

Declan smiled at her. “It’s all taken care of,” he said.

She didn’t understand. “What’s all taken care of?” she asked him.

“Uncle Andrew invited everyone who attended the service to come over to his house. He’s having the reception there.”

She was utterly stunned. The man didn’t know her, except for that one time. Why had he taken it upon himself to go out of his way like this? Somehow or another, this had to be Declan’s doing, she realized.

“I don’t know what to say,” she told him.

“Say you’ll come.”

Startled, Charley turned around to see who had said that. She found herself looking up at the kind, crystal-blue eyes of the man who everyone regarded as the family patriarch despite Shamus’s return from Florida and his defunct retirement.

She realized that the former chief of police was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll come,” Charley replied.

Andrew smiled at her, nodding his approval. He knew how hard this was for her. He’d lost a brother in the line of duty and thought he’d lost a wife—though he never gave up looking for her.

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll see you at the house.” Picking up his pace, he got into a long black sedan driven by his brother Sean.

A little shell-shocked, Charley shook her head in complete amazement. “You Cavanaughs do take over,” she said to Declan.

“Sometimes that turns out to be a good thing,” he said gently. He slipped his arm through hers as he brought her over to his vehicle.

“Yes,” she replied, thinking how much she appreciated the genuine warmth she’d just seen demonstrated by Declan’s uncle Andrew. “I know.”

Chapter 15

T
he moment Charley walked into Andrew’s house, the rest of the Cavanaughs embraced her as if she were one of them.

And, technically, she was.

She was a police detective, which, to the members of the law-enforcement family, easily made her one of their own. She was one of the people who laid her life on the line every day and that sort of thing brought with it a sense of kinship that superseded everything else. That meant that Matt had been one of them as well and they were honoring him as such.

And comforting her.

There could have been no better way to get past any normal barriers that Charley might have had. Barriers that kept her safe, but at the same time, served to isolate her.

If they were aware of the barrier, Andrew and the others gave no indication. Instead, they reached out to her with compassion and sympathy as if there was nothing in the way, nothing to stop them.

They wouldn’t allow it.

It was like that from the first moment they had gathered around her at the church until the end of the evening, when Andrew finally walked her and Declan to the door of his home, sending them on their way with good wishes and instructions to return the next weekend for a large family gathering he had planned.

Charley left Andrew’s house a little overwhelmed—and smiling. Being around the family had helped her deal with her pain and she was grateful to them. And to Declan for his part in all this.

In sharp contrast to the constant din of voices dovetailing into one another, there was silence as they walked to his car.

That same silence accompanied them for part of the ride back to her house. Declan felt she might need a little quiet time to process everything, so he waited until she felt like talking.

“You’re lucky,” she said softly after several minutes had passed.

“How’s that?” he asked. Her remark could have been taken in half a dozen different ways and he waited for her to elaborate before making any kind of a comment.

“Having a family like that,” she said. “You’re never alone.”

He inclined his head, knowing she was right. There was always someone to back him up, someone to rely on. Someone to turn to if he needed guidance in some undertaking.

“To be honest, there have been times when I would have given anything to be left alone, to have some peace and quiet,” he said.

“It’s highly overrated,” she told him.

He slanted a look in her direction. She was putting on a tough exterior, but she still made him think of a wounded bird. “You know, you don’t have to come in tomorrow,” he pointed out. “You’re entitled to some bereavement time. Why don’t you take a few days off?”

That was the last thing she wanted.

“And do what?” she asked. “Knock around my house—or Matt’s—and think?” Matt had left his house to her, but it was going to be a while before she could bring herself to go through it. “I’ll go crazy before the day’s over. No, I need to keep busy, to be doing something to find and catch that sick bastard who did this. I’m coming in,” she decided.

He nodded as he turned down her street. He had to make the offer, but to be honest, he expected her to say that.

“I’d probably do the same thing in your place,” he admitted.

Declan pulled up in front of her house. Rather than keep the car running as he waited for her to get out, he turned the engine off and got out. Rounding the hood of his vehicle, he came around to her side. She’d already opened the door, but he took her hand and helped her out. For once, she let him.

“I
can
find my own front door,” she told him with a hint of a smile.

“Humor me,” Declan muttered as he walked with her. And then he grew serious. “If you need anything,
anything
at all, you know you can call me, right?”

Charley turned from the door she’d just unlocked and nodded. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I know.”

Raising her eyes to his, she began to search for the words to thank him for everything. Most of all, for letting her continue with the investigation despite the fact that he’d found out that Matt was her brother. She wanted, too, to thank him for just being there.

For some reason, the words just refused to materialize. Because Matt had taught her that action spoke louder than words, she rose up on her toes and brushed a kiss against his lips.

Just like the first time, a jolt of electricity accompanied the contact, zigzagging through her. Unlike the first time, the contact was not brief. Instead, the kiss, intense and filled with emotions as well as no small amount of vulnerability, gave birth to another kiss. And then another one, each longer and stronger than the last.

Charley didn’t remember just exactly when her arms went around his neck, or when her body leaned, then pressed against his. She didn’t remember feeling as if she’d lost her way because, suddenly, she’d found it, stumbling through a portal she hadn’t even known was there.

A portal that took her from the world she knew, a world where everything was clearly, neatly defined and labeled, a world that was structured so that she could find her way around even in the dark, into a world that was comprised of emotions and passions and needs that flared to such a degree they would have consumed her had there not been something for her to gravitate toward.

Though she didn’t remember the exact logistics—even as they were happening—one moment she was on her doorstep, the next she was inside her house, the door slammed shut, the rest of the world barred from entry, with only the two of them to populate this brave new world unfolding before her.

Damn, so much for the hope that the first time had been a fluke. If anything, it paled in comparison to the way he felt right now, completely wrapped up in this woman he was supposed to be partnered with.

There was a need eating away at him, taking out huge chunks at a time. Declan had no doubt that all of him would be gone soon, sacrificed to this burning desire he was experiencing. A burning desire to be with her, to make love with her.

To lose himself completely within her until he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began.

Not that it mattered.

He’d always, always, even when it was his first time, had a clear head. He’d never been governed by his emotions, never been led around by his passions...before. Logic and common sense had always been his navigators. Now logic was nowhere to be found and all he knew was that he’d wind up burning down to a useless cinder if he couldn’t have her.

And have her soon.

But this is wrong,
something inside his head screamed. He was taking advantage of the moment, of her vulnerability. Never mind that she had started it by kissing him, he was at fault for not at least attempting to talk her out of it. He hadn’t backed away and made her understand that it was the fear of being alone that was driving her this way. That was making her do what she was doing—connecting with him.

Lightly framing her face with his hands, Declan forced himself to pull back from her.

When he did, Charley appeared bewildered, as if she’d done something wrong to make him stop, but hadn’t a clue as to what that one wrong thing was.

“You don’t want to do this,” Declan told her gently.

“No offense,” Charley replied, her voice low, her body aching, “but you don’t have a clue what I want.”

He caught her hands as she was about to put them back around his neck. She might want this now, but what of tomorrow? Was she going to look back with an overwhelming sense of shame tomorrow?

“I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret in the morning.”

“I’ll only regret it if we stop right now,” she said softly.

He felt her breath along his skin, felt her yearning pulsating and mingling with his own. Declan had always prided himself on being a strong man, but in this case, his strength had only gone so far and it was now in retreat.

He’d reached his limit. He didn’t have it in him to hold her back or hold himself in check, any longer than he just had.

So when Charley brought her mouth back up to his, he didn’t stop her.

He
couldn’t
stop her. Because the second her mouth touched his, the explosive desire returned.

In triplicate.

Very quickly, the path from her front door up to her bedroom was littered with articles of clothing. Hers and his, mingling, overlapping.

For each piece that she took off him, Declan removed one from her, all while their lips were sealed to one another.

A flurry of movement, becoming faster and faster, marked their trail until somehow, almost defying gravity—certainly defying memory—they were in her bedroom, as naked as the day they were born, bathed in desire that took all inhibitions, all common sense away and replaced it with the anticipation of ecstasy that was impossible to contain.

For all his experience, Declan felt like a novice all over again, because he’d never been down this road, never felt desire causing every fiber of his being to vibrate the way that it did this minute. That final moment of passionate fulfillment shimmered before him like a tempting mirage in the desert, coaxing him to go on, seducing him.

Holding him prisoner as with each passing moment, he drew closer and closer to that last wild, gratifying moment that was still eluding him.

So this was what it was like. This was what it felt like to want someone, to
need
someone with every fiber of her body and soul. She’d thought these kinds of things were the stuff that wistful songs and fairy tales were made of. But in real life, she’d been certain that they didn’t exist.

In real life, the mingling of two bodies, of
sex,
was just that: sex. Cold, hard and there.

Nothing magical about it.

But she’d been wrong.

Really wrong and she’d never been so happy to be wrong in her life.

Every inch of her felt as if it was in competition with itself. In competition for his touch, his caress, for the intoxicating feel of his lips along her skin. Every place that came in contact with some part of him arched against him, as if silently—and not so silently—begging for more.

Begging for those ever mounting peaks that kept forming within her, exploding even as they whispered promises of
more
.

He felt her climaxes and experienced them by proxy, growing more and more excited with each one that he felt vibrating through her body.

Charley made him wild with anticipation until he couldn’t keep himself in check a second longer.

Enfolding her in his arms, Declan brought his body to hers, aligned himself with hers just so.

And then he entered.

Biting her lower lip, Charley smothered a cry of pleasure as she arched even more, her body silently inviting him to take what had been his from the very beginning.

Declan didn’t remember when he began to move in sync with her, only that the rhythm increased almost from the beginning and she matched him, thrust for thrust, slowly, pleasurably driving him over the edge.

He held on to her as if she was his very lifeline, not to the world, but to paradise.

The anticipation grew, becoming ever stronger, until suddenly, it tightened around them and burst forth, sending out sky rockets and fireworks of unimaginable beauty, breadth and intensity.

Declan held on to it—and her—for all he was worth.

If he died this moment, that would be fine with him. Because he had
lived.

* * *

Gradually, as the earth began to appear below him, he became aware of the pounding of Charley’s heart. The pulsating sound was an echo of his own.

Other things came into focus—and along with them, his conscience.

For a few seconds—or was it minutes?—he just lay there, continuing to draw breath and nothing more. But he knew that he could only put off the inevitable for so long. After all, he couldn’t play dead or pretend to be asleep indefinitely. Eventually, he was going to have to face her.

He might as well do it now.

He began formulating his apology slowly. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

The words disappeared in her hair. He’d said them against the top of her head and while she felt the vibration of his voice along her skull, she couldn’t really make out the words.

Turning her head, moving it away from his lips, Charley asked, “What?”

“Did I hurt you?” Declan asked again, obviously concerned.

The question struck her as funny. She laughed softly at it. “I’d say the exact opposite.” She turned her head so that it was resting against his chest. Her breath was burned into his chest with every word she said. “Why would you think that?” she asked. As far as she knew, she’d given no indication of being on the receiving end of pain.

“Because I just went ahead. I didn’t give you a chance to say no.” He was inching his way closer to an apology.

“You would have had a long wait,” she told him with a smile.

Looking at him now, her smile grew wider. He was probably worried about what she was thinking now after what had happened between them. He had definitely rocked her world, but she knew that the odds of her doing the same to his were little to none. And now that the fun part was over, he was probably concerned about the possible consequences.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him, “I’m not holding you to anything. I’m a big girl, Declan. This had no strings attached.”

“Right. Good to know,” he said, the words dribbling forth slowly from his lips.

But for the first time, Declan realized that he wanted strings.

“But you know, now that I think of it,” Declan told her, “I never had a ‘no strings’ conversation with you.”

“You didn’t have to,” she replied.

Though she had told herself that she was more than sated, something within her was all but pulling toward this man with the incredibly hard body again. Even now, her body was half resonating from what had just taken place and half tingling with anticipation of what was lying ahead.

“Oh?” Declan asked, his curiosity, as well as his body, aroused. “And why’s that?”

“Because no man wants strings.”

“My brothers did,” he pointed out, finding himself reacting to her all over again.
Wanting
her all over again. “The other Cavanaugh men in the family did,” he went on.