Stop in the Name of Love Page 2

  Stepping back, he spun his sign from stop to slow, and as a parting shot, he gave her a wink.

  Her eyes widened and her foot hit the accelerator, sending the SUV forward with a lurch. After the hard-bitten, burnt-out females he normally encountered as a cop, and the fast, glitzy women he usually dated, this woman was like a breath of fresh air.

  Yes, ma’am. Fresh, sweet, strawberry-scented air.

  Chapter Three

  Somehow, Mary Alice managed to make it through her day at the Sierra Bonita Parent Co-op Nursery School. It was a quarter to four, and the sixteen three-year-olds in her Toddler Group had all been picked up. One thing about being a nursery school teacher, the curriculum wasn’t all that demanding. If the parents working in her class thought she was unusually absentminded today, they hadn’t said anything.

  Thank God.

  How could she possibly explain that she was distracted because her sleep had been plagued the whole night by dreams of a sweaty, half-naked, midnight-haired construction worker doing unspeakable things to her on the hood of her car? Not to mention fretting over the way he’d flirted with her this morning. As if he’d known about her dreams.

  Of course, that was ridiculous. How could he? Aside from which, he could flirt all he wanted, and it wouldn’t do him any good. Finding a man was one of the very last items on her Master Plan for a Perfect Life. There were at least a dozen things she wanted to check off the list before she even considered that one.

  “Mary Alice Cathryn! What are you doing?”

  She glanced at the container of perfectly good red paint she was pouring down the sink, then looked up horrified into the face of her best friend, Nancy, who taught the Pre-K Group of four-year-olds, then back to the sink…and groaned.

  “Don’t you dare tell the dragon lady.”

  Nancy smirked. “Won’t have to. Lucinda measures them at night.”

  Mary Alice snickered then looked around quickly. “Shh!”

  Nancy regarded her, amusement in her eyes. “And what has Miss Frugality so rattled today that she’s dumping out school supplies?”

  Setting her mouth in a line, Mary Alice shook her head. No way was she going to tell Nancy the truth. “I, um…got a letter from the Pasadena Heritage Rose Society yesterday. They’ve set my interview for Thursday.”

  Well, that much was true, at least.

  “Mac, that’s terrific! I know how much it means to you, getting into the Society.”

  Roses were a big deal in Pasadena, and it was a real honor to be a member.

  “Well, it’s the only way my roses will be officially recognized and registered. I feel I owe that much to old Mrs. Trent. She nurtured them for seventy years before selling that cottage to me last year.”

  Nancy smiled sagaciously. “And I’m sure nearly completing one more item on your five-year Master Plan makes you very happy.”

  Mary Alice put the lid on the paint with a snap. It was an old discussion, and she didn’t feel like once again debating the merits of setting sensible life goals versus randomly falling in love with any guy who came along and drifting into an uncertain future. Especially after a disturbing night of sexy car-hood dreams that just might sway her way of thinking. She really did miss—

  Good lord.

  “Yes. It does feel good to cross another accomplishment off my list,” she affirmed proudly. Lots of people made resolutions, but few actually met them.

  “You really are determined to keep your ridiculous timetable on track, aren’t you?”

  She set her jaw and placed the paint on a shelf. She knew Nancy wasn’t being critical. They just had very different philosophies on life and love.

  After Mary Alice’s fiancé Jack’s death three years ago, her father’s murder a month later—and her favorite uncle being gunned down when she was a child—she had made a choice to create a fulfilling life for herself without the presence of a man in it. Loving the men in her life always seemed to bring her profound loss and heartache in the end, leaving her broken and grieving when their lives were ripped away much too soon.

  But with time, the pain had dulled and her common sense had prevailed. Losing her fiancé, father, and uncle had been horrible, but she realized it shouldn’t make her reject the idea of falling in love altogether. The men in her family had all been police officers. Therefore, she just needed to avoid relationships with men who were cops, or in equally risky professions.

  When she was ready for marriage and family, that is.

  Which she wasn’t. Not yet. It had only been three years since she lost Jack…and there were too many things left on her Master List to do before she could even consider falling in love and settling down.

  Nancy didn’t agree with her decision to forego love in favor of other priorities. But then, Nancy was a diehard optimist and an incurable romantic.

  “It feels good to have order in my life and accomplish the goals I’ve set for myself,” Mary Alice said, firmly deflecting the melancholy that threatened, sending it down to the far corners of her heart. She did want to have a husband and kids someday. Someday. “What’s so bad about that?”

  Nancy gave her a sad smile. “Nothing, sweetie. Unless it takes over and makes you push aside everything else. Such as falling in love, or even just having a little fun once in a while.”

  “I have lots of fun,” Mary Alice protested. “With my students, in my garden, with Mom.” She lifted her chin when Nancy rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help a wry smile. “All right, maybe not with Mom. But what about Charlie’s parties? I always go to those.”

  Nancy made a face. “Yeah. I suppose you could meet someone there. Though, if his friends are anything like him… God. Those stupid water lilies.”

  Mary Alice grinned, and noticed for the first time that Nancy had changed into a fancy dress. She poked a finger at it. “Hey! Speaking of parties, what are you up to today?”

  “Picking up Ben for a night on the town. He’s going in tomorrow to have that series of tests at the hospital. You know what a baby he is, so I promised him steak and lobster and a dirty movie tonight.” She waggled her eyebrows lasciviously.

  Mary Alice giggled. “You two are unbelievable. I thought you were supposed to lose interest in that sort of thing after six years of marriage.”

  “Are you kidding?” Nancy got up and headed for the door. “We’re just getting warmed up. You should find yourself a man and try it.” Grinning, she disappeared with a finger wave.

  Try what? Being married for six years…or that sort of thing? Nancy knew how Mary Alice felt about the first, but the second…? With a groan of frustration, she jammed her hands in her pockets. Those damn obnoxious erotic dreams!

  Feeling something crinkle under her fingers, she suddenly remembered the paper from under the windshield wiper that she’d stuck in her pocket that morning. She pulled it out and opened it to find a note handwritten in a quick scrawl.

  Ma’am, Since the crew will be working on the street directly in front of your driveway starting tomorrow, please see me this afternoon about where you can park your car overnight so you’re not blocked in. Russell Bridger

  Great. Just what she needed.

  Suddenly, she looked more closely at the name. Surely, it couldn’t be him?

  What was the name she’d heard over the walkie-talkie? Brad? Brett? Hmm. Not Russell, anyway. Thank God. It had been bad enough making eye contact with him that morning. She didn’t think she could stand face-to-face with the man, trying to carry on a normal conversation. Not with her mind flooded with visions of his bronze, callused hands on her body, his warm tongue delving into her mouth, his hard—

  Ho-boy.

  Grabbing her canvas tote bag, she rushed out the classroom door, barely managing to lock it, and hurried to her car. Her heart galloped and her cheeks burned as she fumbled with the ignition. Lord above, somehow she had to find a way to exorcise those damn dreams from her mind.

  Along with the all-too-sexy man who dominated them.

&nb
sp; Chapter Four

  Bridge glanced at his watch. Five minutes to quitting time, and still no Mary Alice Flannery. For three days in a row she had driven up at exactly eight-thirty a.m. leaving for work, and at four p.m. on the dot coming home. But now it was nearly four-thirty. He slapped his stop sign against his thigh and let out an impatient curse. Why today, of all days?

  Had he pushed his flirtation too far? Scared her off?

  He leaned his butt against a muddy backhoe and slung the sole of his boot onto the running board. Damn.

  It had been a lucky break for him—an attractive, single woman living next door to Charlie Watson. At least, Bridge had hoped it would be a lucky break. He’d figured he could ask her out on a date or two, use his well-honed charm to schmooze as much information out of her as he could about her rich neighbor. Ask if she’d been to any of Watson’s rumored parties.

  Inquire if she wanted to go to one of Bridge’s own.

  He felt a pleasant tightening below his zipper. Yeah, a wild party just for two.

  He blew out a breath. Down, boy. Her background file listed her occupation as nursery school teacher. One look at the woman’s hair and clothes said she was the sweet and proper type of woman. He had to remember that, especially when his libido got sidetracked by her cute freckles and long, curvy legs. She wasn’t his speed. Not by a long shot. He didn’t do sweet, and he certainly didn’t do proper.

  He’d made a promise to his late mother on her deathbed, and he’d lived by that promise all his adult life. He’d sworn that as long as he worked as a police officer, he wouldn’t marry some fragile and sensitive woman and send her to an early grave worrying about whether or not he’d come home alive every night. As his mom had worried about his dad.

  Bridge had been too young to understand the danger, so he hadn’t worried about his cop father so much as despaired over his delicate mother’s slow decline. In that sense, as a child he had been just as affected by the situation. One more good reason to avoid serious relationships—no kids to mess up.

  He’d had no problem keeping his promise to his mother. Being a cop in this town was a hazardous profession. Officers died every year. He’d seen growing up what the endless worry had done to his mom’s nerves, and how that had impacted his own life. No way did he want to be the cause of that for anyone he loved.

  Besides, avoiding meaningful relationships suited his footloose lifestyle.

  Sure, he’d break his rule against sweet and innocent and ask Ms. Nursery School Teacher out a couple of times—but only for the sake of the case. He’d probably be bored stiff, anyway. What could they possibly have in common to talk about?

  The construction foreman blew the whistle, and Bridge gave one last irritated look down the road then headed for his truck. He tossed his hard-hat on the bench behind the driver’s seat. Today would be the one day she veered off her clockwork pattern. Hadn’t she gotten his note? He frowned. Or was she deliberately blowing him off?

  Hell. He’d just have to come back and talk to her later. Whether she liked it or not.

  Chapter Five

  With a self-satisfied sigh, Mary Alice pulled off her clothes and headed for the shower. Take that, Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick. By coming home an hour later than usual, she’d managed to avoid seeing him for another fifteen hours. Maybe she’d get really lucky and it would be his day off tomorrow.

  Hopefully, the respite would allow her to squelch the low thrum of desire that pulsed through her at the mere thought of seeing him…and to tame the crazy impulse to lean out her car window and run her tongue up his tempting bare chest.

  Because despite her unruly hormones throwing tantrums at being denied the man’s buff body, she was not interested in him. For crying out loud, he held up a stop sign for a living! The sex might be incredible, but what would they talk about afterward? Clearly, the man was a California sun bum with no real ambition in life. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine discussing James Joyce with him…or even Steven Hawking.

  She groaned at the foolishness of her body, and turned on the shower faucets full blast. The first man she’d been attracted to in three years, and this was the one her sadly misguided libido picked. She stepped under the warm water and picked up the soap.

  Though, admittedly, it could have been worse. Construction work was a safe, honest profession. And he wasn’t a cop.

  When she was done with her shower, she pulled a brush through her damp hair and went to her closet. She hesitated, then chose an old, rose-colored satin slip from the thirties that she’d picked up at an antique shop. It could pass for a summer sundress today, and felt deliciously cool and comfortable over her bare skin with its simple lines and slippery fabric. The perfect antidote to not having air conditioning.

  She’d just settled on the couch with a bowl of pre-dinner lime sherbet and a good book when a knock came at the front door. Probably a friend or neighbor dropping by to say hi. Sierra Madre was one of the safest towns in the country, so she didn’t hesitate to open the door wide.

  Regret came instantly.

  It was him! Mr. Heart-Stopper himself.

  “Oh!”

  Shocked, she let the book tumble to the floor. The sherbet bowl started to slip from her fingers as she stepped back and stumbled over the rug.

  In a flash, he reached out and grabbed the bowl with one hand and her waist with the other, reeling her tight up against him. His tall, hard body pressed intimately into hers. She regained her footing but was thrown way off balance in another, much more elemental way.

  Wow, he felt good.

  She looked up into his eyes and was instantly captured by the invitation she saw in the hot, searing look he gave her.

  She couldn’t move.

  Thankfully, he could. He released her waist and wordlessly offered her the bowl. Lifting a shaky hand, she took it.

  Slowly, he raised his thumb and licked off a dollop of sherbet that had stuck to it. She swallowed along with him.

  Holy. Crap.

  His gaze wandered down her body, then up again. “Ma’am.”

  Sizzling hot awareness zinged from the top of her head all the way to her toes. Her verbal skills regressed to the level of her toddlers. She doubted she could utter a single coherent sentence if her life depended on it.

  She just stood there like an idiot, flushed and suddenly freezing, clutching the bowl in both hands.

  “You get my note?” he asked, his dark eyes searching hers.

  Huh? He was standing so close she could feel the heat from his skin. Or maybe it was from her own cheeks.

  “Um…n—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Note?”

  He turned slightly and jerked his chin toward her car. “About the driveway being blocked tomorrow morning?”

  “Oh.” Duh. She nodded dazedly. “Yeah. I…um…got home late.”

  His lips tilted in a knowing smile. “So I noticed.”

  Her mental capability gradually started trickling back. The note. Which meant he must be— “Russell Bridger?”

  The smile widened. “My friends call me Bridge.” He looked at her expectantly.

  Relief hit her that he wasn’t here on a more personal mission…possibly involving hoods of cars. She retreated another step. “You came all the way back to show me where to park my car, Mr. Bridger?”

  “Bridge. Miss…?”

  “Miss?” She blinked. “Flannery. Mary Alice Flannery.” God, could she sound like a bigger moron?

  He shifted on his feet a little. “Well, Miss Flannery, we start work pretty early, and I wouldn’t want to have to wake you up from a sound sleep tomorrow morning just to move your car.”

  His gaze raked over her, making her wonder what he would like to wake her up for. The traitorous thought crept into her mind that it might be interesting to find out.

  “Um. That’s very nice of you, Mr. Bridger.”

  “Bridge. I’d be happy to move it for you.”

  She stared at him. “Now?”

  “No charge.�
�� He gave her a devilish grin, and her heart did a backward two-and-a-half with a twist and landed somewhere in the vicinity of his feet.

  She felt herself blush at her body’s unfamiliar reaction to him. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.” Or maybe it was from the memory of those dreams…

  After several more seconds of staring at him and he at her, she smiled uncertainly. “Um…”

  His grin widened. “Keys?”

  God.

  What was she, like, thirteen?

  She shook her mind into gear. “Of course. I’ll get them.”

  After all, what harm was there in letting him move her car? It wasn’t as if he was here to ask her to dinner. Or…anything else.

  Right?

  Chapter Six

  Bridge’s amusement drifted to rapture as he watched Mary Alice turn and walk into the house. Her hips swayed gracefully; the soft wisp of a dress she wore clung to every curve like a silk glove. Tendrils of strawberry blond formed a halo about her head and bare shoulders. It was a sight that could make a grown man get down on his knees and beg.

  He took a deep breath and landed nose-first in the lingering scent of strawberries. With a muffled moan, he speared his fingers through his hair.

  Damn, she was sexy.

  He could tell she was attracted to him. She had an adorably transparent reaction to his flirtatious teasing, as though she didn’t usually let herself respond to a man’s sexual advances, but couldn’t help herself around him. Hell, it was enough to inflate a man’s ego.

  Among other things.

  His plan was to coax information out of her about Watson. But the sight of her ripe, sensual body had Bridge instantly thinking of coaxing other things out of her. Things that had nothing to do with her neighbor’s comings and goings and everything to do with her own.

  Oh, baby. He wanted to look down on her long, sexy hair spilling all over his pillow and to taste the sweet promise of her full lips. To watch her going over the edge, and make her call his name, coming in his arms.