Tangled in Tinsel: The Celebration Series, Book 1

Wow. That one word just about summed it up. How I managed to be professional as I stared into that beautiful face was beyond me.

Casey, or more correctly Cassandra Lowe, was one seriously gorgeous woman. I stared at the computer screen in my car, noting that she used to reside on Timber Street in Charleston, South Carolina. I also learned that she leased the car and her insurance was up to date.

Even though I had already released her from the stop, I ran her driver’s license just to make sure it was valid. She was twenty-eight years old and about five foot four, the perfect height to cozy up to a man who was five foot eleven, like me.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. When Corrine had said that she thought our new neighbors were lesbians, I had thought she was crazy, but last night when I got home, I went out to the mailbox and had a clear view into Casey’s living room. Casey and her friend had been standing in the center of the room, arms wrapped around each other in a tight hug. Casey had pulled back and gently brushed hair off of her friend’s face. There had been an intimacy there that even I couldn’t have denied.

I drove around the township, waving at residents and stopping to talk to a few of the kids who were out playing basketball at the local park. Three times I saw silver BMWs and quickly looked at the rear plate to see if it was Casey’s car. It never was, and when I drove by the house at lunchtime, her car wasn’t parked in the driveway.

The babysitter was at home when I arrived, and Tommy jumped off the couch. As I grabbed him, he threw his arms around my neck. At the age of five, he was still in the stage of showing people he cared. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he would consider himself too cool to hug anyone, except maybe his mother behind closed doors.

“What’s up, kiddo? You behaving today?” I tousled his hair as I set him down.

“Of course. I always behave.”

I laughed because I knew that was most definitely not true.

“Where is Lindsey?” I asked as I walked past him.

“Making lunch,” Tommy answered and dropped back onto the couch to watch one of his favorite programs.

Before Corrine and Tommy had moved in, the small kitchen had seemed larger, but now that they had filled the counters with all kinds of gadgets, it looked like it was about to explode.

“Hey, Lindsey, how is Tommy behaving today?” I asked as I pulled the fridge door open.

“I made you your favorite sandwich,” she said sweetly, and I tried not to roll my eyes.

“You didn’t need to do that, Lindsey. I could have made my own sandwich.” I glanced on the rack in the fridge and found a plate with a thick beefy meatloaf sandwich with lettuce and tomato peeking out from under the bread, and two sliced pickles. “I know you could have, but I worried you might have been rushing in between calls, and I wanted to make sure you got a good lunch.”

I peeked at her covertly from the side and tried to ignore the doe eyes batting in my direction. Lindsey was eighteen—but just barely. For as long as I had known her, she’d had a crush on me; although, up until she turned legal, she’d kept the secret closely guarded. It was only after her eighteenth birthday that she had begun to throw herself at me.

She had been babysitting Tommy that day, and he’d been playing quietly in the living room. I’d been happily surprised when I came home and found she had made me lunch. While I had been eating and flipping through a magazine, she’d run her hands over my shoulders, and I had frozen mid-chew.

I had turned to her. “You need something?” I asked, wondering if she had been trying to get my attention and I hadn’t noticed. Oh, she had definitely been trying to get my attention, but not in the way I thought.

Lindsey had slipped onto my lap before I could even understand what she was doing. Her arms had wrapped tightly around my neck and she had plastered a kiss on my lips.

I’d been shocked at her advance and shoved her off of me so hard she fell to the floor while I stood up and towered over her. “Lindsey, what the hell are you doing?”

She had scrambled off the floor and come at me, her eyes wild with excitement. “I’m a woman now, and I want you to know that.”

I had grabbed her shoulders and held her back, “Just because you are eighteen does not particularly mean you are a woman. I’m eleven years older than you, and this is not going to happen.”

“What’s eleven years when you love someone?” She had tried to paw at my chest, but I held her far enough away that she couldn’t do that much damage. “You can’t get in trouble now, I’m old enough.”

“Jesus, Lindsey, you’re the babysitter. I am not going to get involved with you.”

She hadn’t even hesitated, “Fine, I’ll quit.”

I’d looked at her sternly. “You will not. Can you imagine how Corrine would flip if you did that?” She’d shrugged. “Lindsey, this is not happening, not now, not ever. Understand that?”

Her bottom lip had come out in a pout, and I had rolled my eyes. Real mature, I had thought as I stepped back from her and snagged the last bit of my sandwich and moved away from her, “Tell Tommy I’ll see him tonight.”

Ever since that day, Lindsey had tried everything to get my attention, and while I had been as nice as I could, I shunned every advance that she directed my way. For a while she had even stopped, but that had only lasted a few months while she was dating someone else. The minute they broke up, she was back at trying to hook me.

I gave her a simple nod, “Thanks, Lindsey, I’m in a hurry today. I’ll just wrap up the sandwich and take it with me.”

“Aw.” The dreaded bottom lip stuck out again, and I forcibly contained a sigh of exasperation. “I thought we could talk.”

“Sorry, but I have a lot of paperwork to get done.” I shoved the sandwich in a plastic bag and grabbed a pickle wedge as I turned to leave. “You have a good afternoon.”

I practically ran out of the house to avoid any further conversation. As I climbed into my patrol vehicle, Casey pulled into her driveway and climbed out. I pretended to be reading something on my computer while I spied on her over the top of the screen.

Her hair was up in a ponytail, showing off a lean long neck. She wore a baggy bright blue sweatshirt and black yoga pants with sneakers. As she rounded the back of her car, she glanced at my car but turned away to open her trunk after a quick look.

She began loading her arms with bags from the local hardware store, and I reached for the door handle. The neighborly thing to do would be to help her. I hesitated for a moment, but when I saw her lift out two five-gallon containers of paint and try to hold them and the bags, I opened my door. As I looked over the hood of my car, she tried to shut the trunk of her car. One of the bags got in the way and the lid bounced back up, almost hitting her in the face. She yelped and stepped back, but the bag had somehow gotten caught on the trunk latch. She yanked at it just as I was about to open my mouth to tell her not to.

The thin plastic bag tore clean through and everything inside went airborne. As the bag ripped, Casey began to fall back, and I could do nothing but watch as she landed on her rear end. The rest of her things skittered around the area. One of the paint cans rolled and ended up colliding with the side of her head and I heard an oomph come out of her.

I jogged over to her, worried that the can or the fall had knocked her out, but as I got closer, she put her hand to her forehead and hid her eyes. “Please tell me you did not just watch that.”

I bit back a laugh, “Nope, I didn’t see a thing.” I put my hands on my hips and stared down at her. I could see the heart shape of her face, but her hand was blocking most of the view as she hid from me. “Are you alright? You took a nasty fall.”

“So you did see that. Damn, and here I thought police officers weren’t supposed to lie.”

“I wasn’t exactly lying.” She spread her fingers and glared at me through them. “Okay, I was lying. I was about to come and help you when you got the bag caught on the latch.” I squatted beside her, “You alright? I can call an ambulance for you.”

Her hand flew off her face and she rolled to her side, “I’m fine. Don’t you dare call a bus.” She took a second to get to her knees, and I stayed nearby in case she lost her balance.

She clambered to her feet and dusted herself off as she looked at the mess around her. My radio squawked as I watched her, but the transmission wasn’t for me, so I ignored it. “Why did you call it a bus?”

She looked at me like I had three heads, “What?”

“You called it a bus; most people call it an ambulance.” I bent down to start putting the paint brushes, tape, and rollers back into the bags for her.

“Sorry, I work in an ER; I’m used to calling it a bus. I thought police officers did, too.” She went to bend over to pick up a paint can and wavered. I grabbed her arm before she could fall sideways to the cement driveway.

“I think you need to sit down,” I said as I let the bag I was holding slip to the ground. I took her elbows as she faced me. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing shallowly, sweat breaking out on her upper lip. “And I think I need to call the ambulance. You obviously hurt yourself when you fell.”

“No,” she whispered, “my blood sugar’s crashing, I got dizzy. I just need to eat something, and I’ll be fine.”

I gripped her arms a little tighter in case she started to pass out, “Are you diabetic?”

“No, hypoglycemic,” she corrected and wavered.

Same difference, blood sugar issue, that’s what it meant. I swooped her into my arms; she was lighter than I had anticipated and I held her easily.

“Whoa!” she called out and tried to open her eyes. “I’m fine.” Her head fell back against my arm, and her eyelids closed again.

“Yeah, you are most definitely fine, Casey, but not healthy.” I carried her to the front door, “Where are your keys?”

“In my pocket,” she slurred.

I paused at the front door, “I need you to pull them out so I don’t drop you.”

She wiggled in my arms as she shoved her hand into her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out the keys, holding them up. They jangled as her hands shook.

“I need to set you on your feet so I can open the door.”

She nodded once, and I moved her slowly to an upright position again, keeping my arm around her waist and her back to my chest.

With all my gear on, I couldn’t really feel her against me, but I sure wondered what she would feel like if I weren’t wearing my vest and belt. I had to wiggle the lock a few times to get it to finally open, and I picked her back up and carried her over the threshold.

The room was full of boxes, but luckily the couch was empty. I laid her out on the couch, and she groaned. “I’ll be right back.” I hightailed it out the door and over to my car, reaching in and grabbing my sandwich. Lindsey probably wouldn’t be too happy that I was feeding it to someone else, but I didn’t care.

I jogged back to the house and into the front door I had left open. I pushed it closed behind me after I yanked the keys out and dropped them on the floor beside the door.

“Can you sit up a little bit? I have something for you to eat.”

She shifted on the couch, but I ended up having to set the sandwich down and grab under her arms to pull her up higher. I opened the sandwich bag and peeled it back for her. “Here, take a bite.” I put the sandwich to her lips, and her nostrils flared.

“Is that meatloaf?” she sniffed again.

“Yes, my favorite, now take a bite.”

She didn’t hesitate any longer and took a bite so large I stared at her mouth wondering how she fit it all in there. After she had chewed, she opened it again and I pushed it closer. After another two bites, she reached up to take the sandwich from me, her hand closing over the top of mine, and her eyes flashing open.

“I think I can do it from here,” she said around the food in her mouth. I slipped my hand out from under hers and leaned back, not realizing until then that I was practically lying over her.

“You feeling better?” I asked as she kept her eyes open and blinked a few times.

“Yeah, thank you,” she said and shifted on the couch so that our hips weren’t touching. I stood to give her space, and she grabbed my wrist. “Thank you, Officer Wagner.”

I smiled, “Thad, not Officer Wagner.” I winked at her and stood up as my radio crackled again.

“Sorry, Thad.”

“You know, for someone who works in an ER, you don’t take very good care of yourself,” I joked, but her eyebrows dropped heavily over her beautiful blue eyes.

“I know how to take care of myself. I just didn’t have time to eat.”

“But you had time to go buy paint and supplies?” I took a second to glance around the living room, my gaze landing heavily on the far wall with the stain. “Speaking of which, I’ll be right back.”

I dashed back out the door and bagged up all her things, getting them inside the front door before another bag broke.

“I was going to drop the stuff off and go get food. I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping.” She took another bite, chewed, and then continued, “We were in a rush this morning, if you remember correctly, so I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast. Normally, I don’t have these problems. It’s only when I’m stressed.”

She stopped talking quickly and looked away as if she hadn’t meant to mention that. I could see how moving could be stressful; it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

My radio crackled again, and I reached for my mic as they called my unit number.

The dispatcher told me of a disturbance on the other side of town, and I acknowledged that I would be en route to the location.

“I have to get going. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” I hesitated, worried that it was more than blood sugar issues and actually a head injury.

“I’m fine, thank you for the sandwich. I owe you one.” She shifted to put her feet over the edge of the couch and didn’t seem too wobbly. “I’m going to sit here for another few minutes and let my body catch up on the food, and then I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?” I asked as I stepped toward the door.

She turned and smiled up at me, “Yes, I’m sure. Now, go do your job, Officer Wagner.”

“I’ll check on you later,” I winked at her and opened the door, “your keys are here on the floor. Go get some food.”

I closed the door behind me and took off at a jog to my car while my gear bounced heavily on my hips at the same time that my heart felt lighter than it had in years.