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  "Even the children."

  Watching her over his shoulder, Brian sounded amused at her disbelief. Lila shook her head at his answer. "Go forth and be fruitful and multiply," she murmured under her breath, paraphrasing a biblical passage.

  Because of all the noise, she'd thought that her remark would go unheard but the man preparing a plate in front of her had to be part bat. He'd heard and he was now grinning.

  'That's almost the best part," Brian told her, bringing his lips down to her ear so that she could hear him. "Being fruitful and multiplying."

  She not only heard him, but she also reacted to him. Not to his words exactly but to the breath it took to say them. She felt it, warm along her neck, creating goose bumps up and down her arms as well as a head-spinning anticipation. Lila had a sudden, overpowering and totally irresistible urge to kiss him. Only extreme self-control allowed her to successfully rein in that impulse.

  "Almost?" she echoed hoarsely. If she kept him talking, maybe he wouldn't notice that she was turning into a mass of lust.

  He nodded.

  "And what's better?" she asked.

  "That's easy," he told her, retiring a ladle back into the large tureen filled with deceptively innocent-looking mashed potatoes. He knew for a fact they gave new meaning to the word spicy. "Seeing the end result of all that multiplying." He grinned at her, thinking of his own children. "Can't beat that."

  He loved his children. Why did she find that so hopelessly sexy? Maybe because Ben always seemed so indifferent to theirs. As she looked back, she recalled how he'd taken very little interest in his kids, even when things were still going his way. His own world, his own problems, always took precedence over anything the children went through. He never actually saw them as full-fledged human beings. In the end, only he mattered.

  You missed so much, Ben.

  "No," she agreed as Brian handed her the plate he'd just put together for her, "you can't." Lila glanced down at the plate. There seemed to be a little bit of everything on it. Her own individual smorgasbord. "What is all this?"

  "Heaven on a decorated paper plate," Taylor answered, coming up behind her. "Hi, Chief." Her greeting was accompanied by a wide grin before she looked back at her mother. "You have got to try that," she insisted, pointing to an exotic-looking appetizer nestled between a dollop of spicy potatoes and something that involved an avocado. "No offense, Mom, but Chief Cavanaugh cooks rings around you. That Chief Cavanaugh," she added as an afterthought, nodding toward the kitchen when she realized that the man beside her mother also answered to that title.

  "No offense taken," Lila assured her.

  The moment she slipped the appetizer between her lips, she felt as if she was on the cusp of an experience she'd never had before. Taking a deep breath, Lila chewed very slowly, almost in slow motion, savoring every last morsel as it slid seductively down the length of her throat.

  Her eyes widened in appreciation and surprise. "I think I'm in love," she pronounced as the last bit found its way to her stomach. She glanced over to see if there was more and if she'd seem too greedy if she took another—or three. Her eyes shifted to Brian. "Where did he learn how to do this?" she asked. The men she knew didn't cook. If they were lucky, they knew how to warm prepared meals in a microwave.

  As far as Brian knew, no special training or classes were involved. It was just a natural gift, born of interest and necessity.

  "Andrew always had a knack for cooking," he told her. "Back in the day, he put himself through school working in one restaurant after another. Two restaurants when he got married and the kids started coming. That was before he joined the force. When he left to take care of his family after Rose disappeared, I kept trying to get him to open his own place but he said he wasn't interested in cooking for strangers on a regular basis. He just liked feeding his family. It's his own personal way of keeping everyone together," Brian told her as he put together a plate for himself. "He's been holding command breakfasts for what feels like years now."

  "Command breakfasts," she echoed. As she said them, the words struck a chord. "I've heard about them."

  "You're invited, you know."

  Lila turned around to find that Andrew had managed to materialize behind her. The senior Cavanaugh was holding a tray of plump, tiny, golden-brown squares he'd just taken from the oven. He moved the tray closer to her, silently offering her a sample.

  "To breakfast," he explained in case she hadn't followed his meaning. Glancing toward Brian, he instructed, "Bring her next time you come. I trust that'll be soon."

  Brian exchanged glances with Lila. "You'll have to excuse my brother. He still thinks he's the chief of police."

  Andrew's expression gave no indication of the humor that was just beneath. "I am." Either way, there was no arguing with his tone. As Brian had warned earlier, Andrew didn't accept the word no.

  He raised the tray a little higher and closer to her. "Take one," he urged Lila.

  As she reached for one of the tempting squares with its heavenly aroma, hands seemed to magically emerge all around her, reaching every which way to snare one of the prizes off the tray that Andrew held between oven-mittened hands.

  "Vultures," he declared, but Andrew grinned from ear to ear as he said it.

  Another bit of heaven, Lila thought the moment she'd popped the converted square into her mouth and sampled it. This tasted too good not to carry serious consequences.

  "I'm going to gain five pounds before I leave here, aren't I?" Lila asked Brian, wiping her fingertips delicately across a napkin she was holding in the same hand.

  "At the very least," Brian agreed, getting out of the way as more people crowded around the swiftly depleting tray. "But that's okay." His eyes swept over her. "An extra few pounds'll look good on you."

  Taylor was about to move away to give someone else access to the tray. She seemed to overhear Brian's comment. Her mouth curved as she looked over her shoulder at her mother. Bending her head, she whispered into her ear, "You're blushing."

  Lila drew herself up. "I am not."

  "Am not what?" Brian asked, standing on her other side.

  "Eating too much." It was the first thing that popped into Lila's mind as she willed the bright color from her face to no avail. She could feel the blush making its way up her cheeks. "Taylor seems to think that she's my conscience."

  Sparing her a glance, Brian merely smiled to himself, as if he knew better but, being a gentleman, he kept it to himself and allowed her the fabrication.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

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  Lila sat back as she secured the seat belt around her. Darkness had long since enveloped the world outside the passenger window. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips even as traces of exuberance within her continued.

  "Is that a good sigh or a bad one?" Brian asked, engaging the engine. Was she happy to be leaving, or just happy?

  "A good one." She glanced at his profile. Her contentment grew. "I can't remember when I'd had a better time."

  Jockeying out of the parking place, Brian carefully guided his car away from the others and onto the street. The only bad thing about these gatherings was the lack of space outside Andrew's house. There were vehicles parked all up and down the long block and across the street.

  "I can," Brian replied, sparing her a significant look.

  As if they had a single mind between them, she knew exactly what he was referring to. Their lovemaking. "At a party," she qualified.

  She could almost see his eyes twinkling as he smiled. "As I recall, we made our own party."

  The man was incorrigible. Lila laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years. So light that she could practically float away.

  She had all but forgotten what it felt like to socialize, to mingle among people whose company she really enjoyed and who enjoyed hers. She'd all but been in exile until today.

  That had been of her own doing, she reminded herself. First because Ben had made her leave the force
to be a full-time mother. Once she had, he'd very effectively cut her out of the professional portion of his life. And second, because after Ben's death, when the rumors and suspicions about Ben had begun to make the rounds, she'd isolated herself in order to cope. In order to avoid the pain that the whispered suspicions caused her.

  Back then, she'd felt she owed it to Ben to defend his name. Now she realized that she'd wasted a great deal of time because of a foolish misplaced sense of loyalty. Ben had been her emotional jailer and she owed him nothing. Today had shown her just how much she'd missed by subscribing to a completely wrong philosophy.

  "All right," she allowed, not bothering to suppress her grin, "the most fun I'd had in a long time with my clothes on."

  Slowing for a yellow light, Brian reached over and lightly squeezed her knee. It was a hopelessly intimate gesture, signifying just how many barriers between them had been done away with.

  "Better." The light was green and he returned his other hand to the steering wheel. "Your kids blended in well with the group."

  Brian hoped the comment sounded as casual as he tried to make it. He didn't want to spook her and make her retreat. All evening, he'd kept an eye on her four kids, watching them interact with his family. Like Andrew, family had always been his first priority. It was very important to him that her family got along with his.

  He was aware that the Mclntyres already knew the Cavanaughs. Acquaintances went all the way back to when he and Lila had been first partnered. However, a lot of time had passed since then. People changed, values shifted. But from what he'd observed tonight, Zack, Taylor, Riley and Frank could just as easily been his as hers. And that mattered.

  He saw pleasure whisper along her face as she smiled and nodded in response. "Yes, they did, didn't they?" Obviously he hadn't been the only one watching the Mclntyres interact with the Cavanaughs. "I'm hoping your family's example rubs off on mine."

  The comment seemed to have come out of the blue and he was clueless as to what she meant by that. "Come again?"

  'They're all married." Something, she was sure, he took for granted. "Your kids, Andrew's kids and Mike's, too. They've all found someone they want to spend the rest of their lives with and most of them have started families."

  At times, she was certain that none of hers would do that, that they would all lead solitary lives, no children, no spouses, not even a significant other in the mix. And that, ultimately, was her fault. Her marriage had set a bad precedent for them. She should have left Ben a long time ago.

  "Sometimes I worry that the example they saw while growing up will keep mine from even considering marriage, which means that they'll never discover just how good it can be." God knew that she had never been privy to that on her own.

  Lila caught her lower lip between her teeth. She felt a little self-conscious, baring her soul this way. Brian probably wondered why she'd put up with Ben all those years, why she'd married him in the first place. She didn't want him thinking she was one of those clingy women who stoically put up with being abused, afraid to venture out on her own. It wasn't fear that had held her in place, it was love. And hope that Ben would return to his senses and be the man she'd originally fallen in love with.

  Hope that ultimately led nowhere.

  "It was good, you know," she said softly as they drove to her house. "My marriage. In the beginning, it was good. I don't even know why it started falling apart." She shrugged, helpless even now to pinpoint when it had all begun to change, to unravel. "If I did, maybe I could have fixed it."

  He hated seeing her blame herself. "You tried your best," Brian told her firmly. "You're not to blame. Ben was."

  "You can't know that."

  Oh, but he did. He'd stake his life on it. "I know you."

  That made one of them, Lila thought. These days, she hardly knew herself. Or was it the old Lila, Ben's wife, that she didn't know? Nothing seemed clear anymore. "I've changed."

  He shook his head, standing by his statement. "You can't change goodness, Lila. For all his attributes and talents, Ben Mclntyre was an insecure man." He slanted a look at her before focusing back at the road. She had to know this, he reasoned. "He didn't force you to leave the force because he wanted your children to have a full-time mother, he made you leave because your being amid mostly men just made his insecurities that much bigger and harder to deal with."

  Lila opened her mouth to deny it, but couldn't. "Maybe you're right."

  There was no "maybe" about it. "You know I am, Lila."

  Leaning her head back against the headrest, Lila closed her eyes. The threat of her present situation held her prisoner. As its hold tightened around her, the heady, euphoric effects of the party began to slip away.

  "What do I do, Brian?" She opened her eyes again, staring off into the darkness. "What do I do if that body in the casket doesn't turn out to be Ben? What do I do if he's alive?"

  He knew what he wanted to tell her, but it wasn't fair. She needed to come to that conclusion herself, without prodding. "What do you want to do?"

  There was no hesitation. The words shot out like bullets. "Divorce him."

  Silently, Brian congratulated himself. Score one for his team. He did what he could to contain his feeling of triumph. This couldn't be easy for her. "Then do it."

  She laughed softly to herself at the irony of it all. The day that Ben's body washed up on the shore, she'd gone to a lawyer to see about obtaining a divorce. Somehow, they seemed to have come full circle.

  A headache formed across the front of her skull. She ran a hand over her forehead, willing it to fade away. "When did life get so complicated?"

  "It's always been complicated," Brian contradicted, then spared her a quick look. Her profile looked soft in the darkness and he could feel a pull within him. Could feel himself wanting her. "But some things are still simple."

  She couldn't think of a single thing. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

  "Like love." The two words and the sentiment they conveyed lit her up.

  But he was wrong there, she thought, wishing he wasn't. "Oh no, love's the most complicated part of it all." Caring for him had complicated her life.

  The car eased to a stop in the driveway. They'd arrived at her house. Cutting off the engine, Brian made no move to get out of the vehicle. Instead he left the keys in the ignition and turned toward her.

  For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the car.

  Brian gently feathered his fingertips along her face, feeling his own pulse quickening. How had he managed to keep his hands off her all these years? To allow such distance? Now that he'd made love to her, no way could he walk away. He wanted her and was willing to accept any terms she wanted to dictate. As long as she was his.

  "It doesn't have to be," he told her, his voice all but seducing her. "Stripped down to its bare essence, it becomes very simple. You either love someone or you don't."

  She'd already used the "L" word, already told him that she loved him. Her part in this was decided. It was his turn.

  "And?" she asked so quietly, her voice almost faded away. "What's the verdict?"

  Even as the words emerged, Lila couldn't believe she was asking him that. And yet, this was Brian, the Brian she'd once known better than she'd known herself. The Brian she knew she could say anything to, could trust with any secret.

  But could she trust him with her heart?

  Love, and fear of love, did funny things to people. It changed them, not always for the better. She only had to remember Ben to know that.

  Lila held her breath as the silence inside the car slowly stretched out, its two ends melting into the darkness.

  His eyes held hers. "I think you know."

  But Lila slowly moved her head from side to side, her eyes still pinned by his. As was her soul. She needed to hear it.

  "No, I don't."

  She had to know how he felt. Of that Brian was utterly certain. But she needed the words, needed to hear him say them. He understood that. It wasn't that t
hey weren't there. He'd just kept them hidden for so long. He had a hard time raising them, exposing them again. It was time to stop hiding.

  "I have loved you, Lila, for a very long time." Now that he'd finally told her, he had to tell her the entire truth. "I didn't want to at first and I never really intended to admit to it. Not to you. Not even to myself. You were married and had a family—and so did I. But that didn't change how I felt about you. And now things are finally different." Now there was hope.

  Lila pressed her lips together as she shook her head. "I still might be married."

  "In name only," he reminded her. He took a breath. It was time to take the plunge. "I loved you then, I love you now and any time you're ready, Lila, I want you to marry me."

  Her eyes widened. Was it really that much of a surprise for her? He'd been raised to believe that when you loved someone, really loved them, you married them. He still believed that.

  "I'm not rushing you," he said gently. "I've waited this long, I can wait a while longer. All I ask is that you don't make me wait forever." That being said, he opened his door and got out. Circling the vehicle, he came around to her side and opened the door. He took her hand and helped her out. "I'm not coming over tonight," he told her. "You've got a lot to think about and you probably want to be alone."

  His understanding almost undid her.

  God, but he was good to her. He was so intuitive of her feelings, it was almost as if they shared the same mind. She should be shouting "yes" from the rooftops, but he was right, she did need time. Time to sort everything out. Time to savor the proposal.

  "I do love you, Brian."

  He smiled at her. "I know." And he could wait, he told himself. Because the promise of forever hung in the balance. He nodded toward her house. "I'll go in with you to check out the house." He saw her begin to protest but he was ready for her. "Two sets of eyes are better than one."