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“You do amazing work. City councils and all are bitching about the Strip, but this place has the lowest crime rate in the city. And benefits us, yet…”
“They don’t want to mention sex workers or our stand on legalizing and regulating it, and also our Harm Reduction Drug Programs. I know what the higher-ups think. Criminalization, in some aspects, worsen issues rather than lessening the harm they cause. But that’s a lecture for another day. Captain Tyson may not want inside info.”
“The less I have to plead the fifth, the more I’d appreciate being out of the loop.” I chuckled as Boss laughed. Suddenly, I realized I felt lighter. The questions that I had no hope of answering weren’t there.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just realized things didn’t feel so heavy right now.”
“Sometimes it’s good to clear your head a bit. After my husband, well, it wasn’t legal back then, but I still considered him that. After he was murdered, my home became a prison… the memories were heaviest there and when I was alone. Being here, it was like therapy of sorts.”
“Maybe frozen dinners and middle-of-the-night infomercials aren’t healthy.”
“You said it. I didn’t. Let’s get this tour done. Chance might have his husband’s full attention and will behave.”
We both stood and left the office. I asked questions because the more I learned, the sheer size of the operation he ran shocked me. He told me it was a constant battle for funding and volunteers, and some months they relied on a small full-time crew their grants paid. I said hi to a few people I recognized. Doc Warner, the senior medical examiner, volunteered to help with medical needs and was running a small medical clinic in a meeting room.
Everyone was happy, comfortable, and relaxed. Those who weren’t, were offered a shoulder or a hug. It was like a community inside the city where everyone took care of each other no matter what. I had no family left, so outside a few friends, my group consisted of the officers and detectives who worked under me. I hadn’t realized how lonely my life truly was. All my so-called friends were those of my ex-husband.
When Boss finished the tour, I filled out a volunteer form for him to call me with opportunities coming up, and he offered for me to just come back any time. He told me they always needed people, and I could jump in wherever.
On my way through the open common room, I turned to watch a group of children playing tag and wasn’t watching where I was going. I bumped into someone, and on instinct, I grabbed them by their slim hips. The first thing I noticed was long, silky black hair that framed a beautiful face and wide green eyes. Shit. He looked young, but I noticed the faint lines beside his eyes.
“Sorry, honey, are you okay?” I asked before he caught me staring at him like a fool.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, sorry.”
“No need. I bumped into you.” I released his hips when I realized I still held them tight, and he attempted to pull away. “Sorry again.”
“It’s fine. I need to be going. Have a nice weekend.”
I didn’t want to think I scared him, but he power-walked his lean body away from me as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched him until he disappeared into the hallway and out of sight. I shook my head as I tried to remember the last time I actually checked a man out other than my former husband, and it was such a faint memory I couldn’t place it. I walked out into the night and checked the time. I’d been there a few hours and still felt lighter. I just hoped it lasted.
Chapter 2
Cass
I hustled my ass straight to my office as fast as I could move. Once inside, I slammed the door and fell back against it. What the hell was that? Who the hell was that?
The hardest part of my week was attending the grief meeting. It brought up all of the pain that I often suppressed while doing my job the rest of the time. Listening to the other members as they expressed their agony and anger at losing a loved one was the only time that I allowed myself to not only empathize with them, but also let my own memories come flooding back. Memories of what I’d had and what I’d lost.
Losing Martin was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. He was my partner, both at work and home, my best friend, my lover, my husband, my everything. It was supposed to be me and him against the world until death do us part. And it had parted us. Years before it was time.
With a small bang of my head against the door, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to forget about him. Not Martin, who I should be thinking about. But the silver fox with the haunted gray eyes who’d run into me. Those beautiful irises had held so much anguish. Had he been there to attend the meeting, and he’d just been too late? No, I didn’t think so. He hadn’t looked frazzled or apprehensive like someone who’d been battling walking through the door. He’d just been distracted, lost in his own head.
And there lay the problem. Those big meaty hands on my hips and having to tip my head up to meet his eyes, and all thoughts of Martin had fled my head for an instant. It was never like that after the grief meeting. I never scheduled therapy appointments after I went because it wasn’t fair to my patient when I couldn’t concentrate on them 100%. Normally, I walked out of there and spent the rest of the day fighting the gut-wrenching pain that came with knowing that the rest of my walk through this life would be without my husband by my side.
How had another man intruded into that time and headspace so easily? By just touching me? If one of my patients came to me with the same scenario and asked me those questions, I’d have all kinds of responses about healing and moving on. But I didn’t want that. I wasn’t ready to notice other men that way. I wasn’t ready for my heart to race from another’s touch. I wasn’t ready to want to sink into another body and let myself be surrounded by its warmth. I didn’t want the lingering scent of cedar, sandalwood, and man to make me want to run back down that hall and see if I could find tall and sexy to get another whiff.
I banged my head again. Sexy? When was the last time I’d consciously noticed another man that way? Not since before Martin died. Not since the last time we cuddled on the couch and teased each other about the celebrities we’d want a pass on cheating to fuck. Neither of us would have ever actually stepped out on each other, but it was a fun game, and we’d love to play.
But Martin is gone now, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. Was it my subconscious or a phantom echo of my late husband, who would be horrified if he knew I was living such a solitary existence? I didn’t know, but I didn’t care. My work at the Outreach was enough for me. Wasn’t it?
The vibrating of my cell phone pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I knew who it was. My friend Greg called me like clockwork every week to check on me after the meeting. “Hello,” I answered.
“Hey, Cass. How are you today?” As usual, he forced a casual tone, pretending like he wasn’t worried about me.
Playing my part, I said, “Fine. And you?”
