One Tough Cop Page 3

  Fall in Staten Island meant the wind off the water would be making loose branches fall. When a tiny branch hit one of the windows she started and almost spilled her hot chocolate a few times. Maybe I shouldn’t watch the X-Files, she thought. The series was one of her favorite shows along with Law and Order and a multitude of crime shows. Nicole changed the channel to watch comedy sitcoms, but it didn’t work. She still felt antsy. When will this feeling end? she wondered miserably. A loud thump came from outside and she let out a scream. Jules woke and he began to cry. Nicole felt her own tears start and as she picked up the baby to soothe him she cried. Her eyes set upon the small rectangular card that Max gave her. She held the baby with one hand and picked up her cordless phone with the other. She dialed the number and after two rings a husky voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “M-Maxwell, um this is Nicole Henry, I don’t know if you remember me?” She tried to hide the fact that she was crying. “Were you sleeping?”

  “Nicole, I was… that’s not important, what’s wrong?” Max’s voice changed to instant alertness. “Why are you crying?”

  “It’s nothing, I’m just being silly, but I heard noises outside and I’m sure it’s just like branches or something.” She took a breath. “I screamed and Jules started crying….”

  “I can call Staten Island PD and send a car around,” Max offered.

  “No… it’s late and they have stuff to do, I’m being ridiculous anyway.” She gave a watery laugh. “Tell me I’m being ridiculous, Jules is quieting down now.”

  “You’re not being ridiculous, I don’t like scary noises either,” Max offered.

  That made Nicole laugh. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I know but it made you laugh and that’s what I wanted to hear,” he said. “I don’t want to invade your space, but do you want me to come there?”

  “You’re in Manhattan, it’s too far away, but thank you,” she answered. “Hold on, let me put Jules back in his bassinette.” She made sure Jules was snug and then got back on the telephone. “Okay, I’m back.”

  “Glad to hear it, and no it’s not too far away. I live in lower Manhattan, I can get to Staten Island in thirty minutes,” Max explained.

  “There is no possible way to be here in that time from Manhattan,” Nicole pointed out.

  “With lights and sirens I can, you want me there I’m there,” Max said firmly.

  Nicole smiled. “No you can’t do that, you’ve more than likely had a hard day. I’ll let you go now so you can rest.”

  “No, talk to me.” Max’s voice became a gentle timber. “What are you doing?”

  “I was watching X-Files and got scared, then I tried to watch sitcoms.” Nicole chuckled. “I can’t do it.”

  “Wanna know something?” Max said with a laugh. “I’m watching it too.”

  “You’re an X-Files buff?” Nicole pulled her feet up under her like she was talking to an old friend.

  “I wanted to be Mulder when I was a teenager,” Max admitted. “But then I joined the police force instead of the FBI.”

  “I was going to be Scully except that I found me and blood aren’t a good fit,” Nicole said.

  “Well, we can be them for Halloween,” he said.

  “You plan on seeing me for Halloween?” Nicole asked.

  “My friend Jones and his wife and kids put together this amazing bash each year, costumes and everything,” he explained and then cleared his throat. “You should go with me and we can dress Jules up as a baby duck or something.”

  “A baby duck?” Nicole asked.

  “Or a pumpkin,” Max said.

  “I was thinking mini dalek or…”

  “Dr. Who,” Max finished her sentence. “We seem to have a lot in common, television and book wise.”

  “Shouldn’t we at least have dinner first before we dress my son up in some weird costume? I mean, we could be starting years of trauma if we dress him up to suit our viewing tastes.” Nicole couldn’t help the grin on her face. Just talking to Max made her feel lighter.

  “Are you asking me out? Ms. Henry, I don’t know what to say,” Max teased.

  “I–I mean, well I don’t know….” She felt her stomach clench with nervousness and fear.

  “Ask me over for dinner, Nicole,” Max said softly. “We can talk about X-Files and if we think the twelfth doctor will work out.”

  “Wait, there’s going to be a new doctor? Derek never let me…” Nicole stopped herself and shook her head. “I’m not going back to those memories.”

  Max was quiet for a minute before he spoke. “You don’t have to go back to them Nicole, but you’re going to have to face them eventually.”

  “When I’m ready,” Nicole said. “Come to dinner.”

  “What time and what do I bring?” Max asked.

  “Maybe some fresh bread for garlic toast?” Nicole said.

  “What are you planning to make?” he asked.

  “Homemade meatloaf, creamy mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and garlic toast…. unless you wanted biscuits?” Nicole said hastily. “I can make an apple pie.”

  He was silent and Nicole said hesitantly, “Max?”

  “I’m sorry, I was fantasizing about eating dinner tomorrow,” Max said. “I’ll get whatever you need, text me a list.”

  She laughed. “I’m actually going to the store tomorrow, I can do the shopping. I just like the bread from Pietro’s bakery for garlic toast.”

  “Well text me anyway so I have your cell number,” he encouraged softly. “And give me your address.”

  “Okay, well goodnight Max, thank you for keeping me company on the phone,” Nicole said.

  “Goodnight Nicole, see you tomorrow,” Max answered.

  Nicole hung up and looked at the cordless phone in her hand before putting it back on the base. Fear and panic had made her call him and now she was having dinner with the police officer that saved her life and delivered her son. She turned off the television and checked the door of the apartment, making sure the locks were secured. On impulse, well not on impulse but her ritual since she moved in, she braced a chair she kept by the door under the lock. Nicole grabbed Max’s business card before she pushed the bassinette into her bedroom and once again went through the ritual of locking the door and barring it. She wondered if she would ever feel safe enough again to be able to go to bed and not get up to check the door and windows. Nicole got into bed and took her cell phone off the dresser table. Before texting him she saved his number as Maxwell “Tough Cop” in her phone and smiled as she looked at the number. She began to text him and her fingers moved across the touch screen of her cell quickly.

  Hey Maxell, My address is 1243 Sand Dune Street. Do you need the zip code?

  No, I know exactly where that is, friend lives over there, wait two streets over. 7 ok?

  That’s fine, see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Maxwell.

  You can call me Max you know.

  I’m not a fan of nicknames. I’ll stick with Maxwell. Do you mind?

  Not in the least, G’night Nicole.

  Goodnight.

  Nicole looked at the read out on her phone and smiled. How long had it been since she’d texted anyone and it made her smile? Too long, and it felt good, she was happy that something felt good for a change. Jules started to fuss again and she looked at the clock. Feeding time.

  She took the baby from the bassinette. “Okay Mr. Jules, let’s get you fed.”

  She kissed his cheeks and inhaled his fresh baby scent before she unbuttoned her shirt and put the baby to her breast. Sleep would be a half an hour later because Jules was hungry and drank from both breasts easily. When he was back to sleep, Nicole climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. She slept with a nightlight on and closed her eyes to the dim room. Jules would be up again in a few hours to nurse. Till then she hoped nightmares wouldn’t plague her and for once she’d be allowed to rest.

  * * * *

  Max stood outside
of her door and let out a breath. In one hand he held a bunch of flowers and in the other a bag that held fresh bread. Stop acting like a scared teen, Max chastised himself. But inside he was a mass of nervous jitters. Jesus, when was the last time he’d been out on a date, let alone to a woman’s house? His last girlfriend was dating him and three other guys on the force, and Max wasn’t into sharing. He was jaded about love until he saw Nicole. Now here he was taking a leap with no clue how or where he would land. Finally, he knocked and waited for her to answer the door. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a loose pink sweater that looked so soft he wanted to touch it. Her tightly curled hair was pulled up on her head and tied with a blue band. She wore simple studs in her ears and when he looked down at her feet she was wearing Halloween orange socks. Max grinned at the sight she made. It was a beautiful one.

  “Hi Maxwell, come in.” She smiled shyly and his heart ached in his chest.

  He stepped into her apartment and held the flowers out to her. “Hi, these are for you. I didn’t know what you like, so they’re…”

  “Tiger lilies,” she finished for him and plucked the other bag from his hand. “I take it this is the bread?”

  “Pietro’s like you requested. I brought their fudge cookies as well,” Max answered.

  “Oh bless you, I haven’t had one of those in ages,” Nicole exclaimed. “Close the door you’re letting the heat out.”

  Max did as she requested and looked around her apartment. It was nice, warm and inviting with little trinkets that said a woman lived there. His walls were bare and apart from the essentials, he had no decorations. Why would he, there was no one else to see it, he lived alone and was hardly home anyway.

  “Don’t stand at the door like you’re not welcome, sit anywhere you like,” Nicole invited. She walked over to the kitchen that was separated from the living by a simple bar with stools on one side for eating. Close by a table was set and on the other side of the room sat a desktop computer. Max assumed that was her work space and she made the small space versatile and still roomy.

  “Where’s the baby?” Max asked. His stomach growled from the mouth-watering smells coming from the kitchenette.

  “In the bassinette next to the sofa,” she answered from the kitchen.

  Max looked into the blue portable crib and saw the baby was wide-awake and looking up at him. Even for two weeks old he’d filled out and was cute as ever.

  “If he’s up you can hold him before he starts to fuss,” Nicole said. “It would help so I can finish dinner.”

  “I should wash my hands,” Max said. The last time he’d held Jules, he’d liked it and had less apprehension at doing it again.

  “There’s a half bathroom in the hallway,” Nicole said.

  He went to wash his hands and noted that while her wall had pictures of cityscapes and nature scenes, there were none of family and friends. Max wondered if she was like him, raised in the system until it spit you out to sink or swim on your own. Usually the fight for survival was ingrained in parentless children living from foster homes to children’s homes. Where you had a few drawers for your own and anything you got you held onto with a fierce drive. No one gave you anything more than they had to and kindness made you wonder what they wanted in return. Although many of the children made it, even more were lost. If Nicole was one, just like he, Max knew that she would do everything in her power to make sure Jules never felt that kind of desolation and loneliness in his life. After he washed his hands he came back into the living room. Nicole still worked in the kitchen. He smelled garlic and bread toasting and his stomach almost did a cheer.

  She looked up and smiled. “There are burp cloths in the bottom of the bassinette. Throw one over your shoulder before you lift him, he tends to spit up when he burps and he was fed recently.”

  “I bet he’s probably loving his milk.” Max lifted the baby gently and put him over his shoulder. “Do you like your bottle, huh big guy, you’re heavier already.”

  Nicole laughed. “He’s a guzzler that’s for sure, but he gets his milk straight from the breast.”

  Max was unable to help the punch of arousal and ran through him at her simple comment. What would it feel like to hold her, touch her breasts, taste her nipples? The baby began to squirm and whimper and it took his mind off ravishing her naked body.

  He looked at her in alarm. “What did I do wrong, what does he need?”

  “Just pat his back lightly and he should burp,” she directed him. “He’s got a touch of colic so I’ll give him some gas drops in a minute.”

  He did as instructed and soon a belch reverberated through the tiny body. Max laughed at the very manly burp that came from the baby. He carefully took him off his shoulder and laid him in his arms like he did the first time he held him. Jules’s eyes were open and Max swore the baby was looking at him and assessing his face. His hair was black curls and his skin tone matched Nicole’s. The baby yawned like he was bored and instead began to suck on his tiny knuckle as if it was more interesting than the man who held him. Max didn’t care, he was enamored with the tiny person he held, his tiny fingers and toes and the way he smelled. Instinct seemed to take over and he began to rock back and forth while giving Jules a gentle jiggle. He was so intent on what he was doing he didn’t see Nicole set the table and come to stand in front of him.

  “Dinner is ready and this little man is asleep,” she said.

  “Oh, wow,” Max said in amazement. “I did that?”

  Nicole looked at him with amusement in her eyes. “Yes you did, good job. Now go sit at the table before dinner gets cold.”

  She took the baby and Max walked over to where she’d placed the meal. He’d never done anything like this, a quiet dinner at home, hell, putting a baby to sleep. The girls he dated tended to like a party more than motherhood. It was good for a few weeks, the drinks, the late nights, but it seemed like it was all they wanted to do. The party life got old quickly and the dating never went past a few weeks. He wanted more, but had no clue how achieve it. Maybe she was sent into his life for a reason, Max learned early never to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nicole and her son were the gift, but instead of accepting them he needed her to accept him.

  She sat across from him and waved her hand over the food. “Help yourself, Maxwell.”

  He didn’t need a second prompt. Max dug into the mashed potatoes with relish and closed his eyes at the first taste of meatloaf.

  “Do I taste bacon in the meatloaf?” he asked after chewing.

  Nicole nodded. “I saw it on one of the cooking shows. It has chopped bacon inside and on top. Do you like it?”

  “Like it, I want to take it to Vegas and marry it,” Max teased.

  Nicole giggled. “I don’t think that’s legal in the United States.”

  Max shook his head somberly. “The love between a man and his meatloaf should not be restrained.”

  They laughed together at the joke and went back to eating. Max wasn’t known for being funny, so he was even surprising himself.

  “I take it you don’t eat a lot of home cooked meals?” she asked.

  “I can cook but it doesn’t make much sense for me to make a big meal for myself. I eat take-out, or sometimes Jones’s wife takes pity on me and sends a Tupperware of food to work for me,” Max explained.

  “Well now add me to the list, I love cooking and you can eat here anytime,” Nicole said. “Jules and I don’t mind sharing.”

  “I think I may have until he can eat solid foods and gets teeth, then we’ll be competing for mom’s dinner,” he said.

  “You’re going to compete for strained peas or apple sauce with bananas?” Nicole asked teasingly.

  Max looked down at his dinner and then at Nicole and shook his head. “No, he can have that to himself.”

  She took a bite of her food. “Well, you can take the rest of the pie home after dessert. I’ll only need a slice and I already packaged up the leftovers, you can have it for lunch or something tomorrow.�
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  “If you keep feeding me I’ll be in Staten Island all the time,” Max said.

  “You have an open invitation,” she said.

  He met her gaze. “I just might take you up on that offer.”

  The rest of the conversation went from TV to books and books that were made into shows. He found she had a love for paranormal shows but not the fluffy kind, the ones with a deeper motive and a case to crack. Max made a mental note to buy her a gift that would feed her love of reading. She told him about her work in website design and building, her plans to go to school and start working in customer service, and she tried to explain coding to him. He was lost, but hearing her talk with such animation and love of her job kept him interested. Dinner went by and he helped clear the table and clean the dishes. In the close proximity in the tiny kitchen he was very aware of her body and the way she smelled, down to the shampoo scent of her hair. Max was not a man that noticed scents, hell he bought Irish Spring in the six-pack. But he could swear he smelled green apples and honey melon in her hair or that’s what it reminded him of. They had dessert in front of the TV and watched a really bad movie on the Chiller Channel.

  “So basically these movies are saying that girls who go camping are stupid and end up dead,” Max said.

  Nicole nodded. “That’s my take. Unless there are four walls, a bed, and barriers from nature, I’m not going out there. Don’t let me get started on my small town theory.”

  Max laughed. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  Nicole shook her head. “We’ll save that for another time. This has been fun though, thank you.”

  Max put his plate on the coffee table. “Is that my cue to leave?”

  “I think so, I need to get some rest. Jules is up at three and then five a.m.,” Nicole said uncertainly. “I didn’t want to be rude. I’m still trying to figure out normal for us.”