Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Cisco didn't know what to think as he rode back to town, having cemented plans to be at the camp on Tuesday, before he'd skedaddled. Hilly was the most intriguing yet contrary person he'd ever met. One minute, he'd think she was warming up to him, and the next, she'd freeze him out. And it bothered the hell out of him.

Why ?

Wasn't that the million-dollar question. Cisco had never lacked for a beautiful woman on his arm, and Hilly… Sure, she was gorgeous, with all that wild, untamed red hair swirling around her face. He'd even go so far as to say she was something special in the beauty department. But it wasn't often Cisco couldn't control his impulses around a pretty woman, so he'd been damned near blindsided where Hilly was concerned. How many times had he forcibly had to curb the urge to reach forward and tuck some of the soft, errant strands of copper behind her ears.

It was a good thing he knew how to talk himself down, or his fingers would have been threaded through her brilliant tresses as the breeze continued to stir them up around her face. She probably would have fired his ass on the spot for inappropriate behavior. But the overwhelming, instant pull he'd had toward her had almost demanded he touch her, and that was a seriously fucked up circumstance. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made any rash moves toward a female. Maybe in high school?

Fuck. There was only one possible reason for his head going haywire. His tweaked libido; because he'd been under a self-imposed moratorium at the bars as of late.

Still…that hair.

He could only describe the color as that of worn pennies, and her eyes… He'd never seen an iris hue so vibrant that it instantly reminded him of the field of wild cornflowers behind his parents' house.

Yes, he'd been drawn in by her physical presence in a way that defied any experiences he'd ever had. He normally liked blondes. That was obviously not Hilly. He liked drowning in pools of green. Hilly's orbs were blue. He like women who were tallish. Hilly was damned short compared to Cisco's six-plus feet. She was maybe five-three or four, but with her backbone snapped straight—as she'd constantly displayed—she was certainly a force to be reckoned with even at her diminutive stature.

Her tattered, cutoff cargo shorts and the old, stained T-shirt she'd been wearing had done nothing to detract from her allure. Instead, they'd fueled a few fantasies within him about what she'd look like sweaty and disheveled beneath him while he explored her body with his hands, his mouth, and yeah—if he were honest—his dick.

Cisco blew out a frustrated breath and conjured the woman's sometimes cold, and always semi-skeptical gaze again, wondering where he scored on her scale of one to ten.

Maybe that was what was tugging at Cisco's short hairs. She'd displayed an obvious disinterest in him. He'd even say…distaste.

Cisco wasn't vain. He'd been told enough times in his life that he was good-looking, and he barely had to lift an eyebrow to attract women who would eventually take him home to their beds. But Hilly… She'd not only looked indifferent; at times she'd seemed downright repulsed by his presence. And that hurt.

Cisco sighed and refocused on the road.

Shit.

He wasn't on the right route.

His plan had been to go back to his bungalow, change into civvies, then grab his truck to visit his parents, but somehow his preoccupied brain currently had him heading past his place and directly to his folks. He'd just have to roll with it, because he wasn't wasting another minute to spill his guts.

Yeah. He might be thirty-three, but sometimes when he was troubled or confused, he ran things by his family. Still, if he rode up in uniform on a Saturday afternoon at a time when he was normally getting ready for work, his ‘rents might freak.

Better give them a heads up.

He pulled to the side of the road—well onto the shoulder so he wouldn't get sideswiped—and extracted his phone from his pocket before hitting his mom's number.

It only rang once.

"Well, hello, my favorite son," Selma Andera answered.

Cisco snorted, as usual. "I'm your only son, Ma," he rejoindered.

"Which makes you my favorite," was her patent answer, and it made Cisco warm inside.

What would he do without the two, wonderful people who'd adopted him at the age of three from Uruguay? He couldn't imagine. He'd certainly gotten lucky. He'd been told that he'd been surrendered to an orphanage there by whatever people had raised him to that point, and his now-parents—his father a native of Uruguay, and his mother who'd met the love of her life as an exchange student and married him within months—had adopted him before moving back to his Mom's hometown in Maine.

He had no memory of his early years before them, and had no interest whatsoever in pursuing his roots. As far as he was concerned, Selma and Genero Andera were his parents, and that was that. They'd loved and nurtured him with everything they had for all but three years of his life, and Cisco knew he couldn't have asked for better family.

"So, to what do I owe this unusual Saturday call?" she asked, then her voice fell. "Don't tell me you're cancelling for dinner on Monday night."

"Nope. Not at all," Cisco replied. "I'm actually on the road to see you right now, with good news."

"On a Saturday? When you're due at work in…two hours? It must be some great news to take you out of your routine."

Yeah. Cisco had routines. One might even say he was a bit OCD. Not in the "touch the light switch three times and count backward to ten while tying his shoes" kind of way. But in a "everything has a place, and certain time-slots during the day were devoted to habitual proceedings" manner.

"You'll just have to wait and I'll…" Cisco trailed off. There was a beige car approaching from the opposite direction, traveling far too fast on the smallish, rural road. "Gotta go, Ma," Cisco barked. "Somebody's headed this way speeding like a bat out of hell."

"Go do your job," his mother replied swiftly. "We'll see you soon." She hung up, and wasn't that just like her. She never got in the way of what Cisco needed to do.

The person in the small Toyota flew by Cisco. He pulled out of the turnoff and followed, calling it in on his clipped mic.

"This is One-Victor-Bravo, reporting an 11-95 on Forest Ave."

Maybe it wasn't a routine traffic stop, because even though he'd turned on his lights and siren, the car hadn't slowed one bit. Why was that? "Operator not responding. Requesting backup." Cisco gave his exact location.

"Copy that," headquarters responded, then came back ten seconds later. "Unit Two-Zebra-Charlie enroute. ETA four minutes."

"Ten-four, dispatch."

Cisco engaged his ALPR, which would, within seconds, give him a read on the license plate and let him know who he'd be dealing with.

Before the plate capture came through however, Cisco sped up until he was right behind the vehicle. He saw a lone woman driving, with no one else in the car. He keyed his external mic. "This is the Orono Police. Pull over," he barked once.

The response was almost immediate as she slowed down, which was kind of odd. She'd ignored his siren and lights, but responded to a verbal hail? The woman's brake lights came on as she stopped, and Cisco pulled up directly behind her. By that time, her plate had been processed; coming back as belonging to a Deborah Gorner, place of residence, Bangor. No priors.

Cisco got off his bike and approached her driver side window, which she'd just eased down a few inches.

"License and registration, Ma'am," he politely requested.

At this point it was just a procedural request, but it was always good to see if the paperwork matched what the ALPR had come back with.

"Oh. Right." Ms. Gorner leaned over her interior console toward the glove compartment, but couldn't quite reach. She then cursed, and struggled to remove her seatbelt before she was finally able to fumble with the latch, open the compartment, and retrieve her documents. "Here you go, officer," she smiled up at him brightly and…winked? "Aren't you the handsome one," she preened, flipping her hair off her shoulder in a practiced flirt. "And a motorcycle-man, on top of all…that." Her eyes traveled from his head to his boots and back again.

Hell, no. There was no way this woman was going to charm him out of writing her a ticket, and…he leaned down a little closer as she purred. Goddammit. That was alcohol on her breath. At one o'clock in the afternoon. He huffed to himself before addressing her. "I'll be right back."

He strode back to his bike, stood next to it, and examined her credentials while waiting for the cruiser that should be pulling up soon. He wasn't going to have the woman get out of her car without backup present. Every now and then an officer made the mistake of underestimating a lone, drunk female, and got kicked, bitten, or nail-scraped for their miscalculation. Also, blamed for sexual assault. Cisco wasn't going to be that guy.

When the black and white finally pulled up and stopped in front of the car, Cisco walked over to fill them in.

"Hey Lucas, Mitzy," he greeted. "I pulled this one over for speeding, but now it looks like we might have a DUI on our hands." He looked at the officers he knew well, and gave them a nonapologetic grin. "But since I'm actually off duty right now, and headed to my parents' house for a late lunch, I'm hoping you can perform the necessary sobriety test."

"Asshole," Lucas grumbled. "Just what we need. A drunk woman who's had a look at you, and thinks she might be getting off with a BJ instead of an arrest."

"Hey," Mitzy mock-scolded from beside him. "Stop stereotyping, asshole. Not every woman wants to suck Andera's dick."

Cisco winced and grinned. The banter between these two was always epic. Mitzy had been on the force for twenty years and spoke whatever was on her brain. Lucas was still wet behind the ears, and she was constantly giving him grow-the-hell-up shit, albeit in a partner kind of way.

"Who said anything about women?" Lucas replied jokingly. "I hear there are plenty of guys who'd give their left nut to get Andera naked."

Time for some razzing from Cisco.

"You offering?" Cisco cut in with a grin toward Lucas, having heard it all before. "Because if you are, I hate to disappoint you, but fraternization between officers is frowned upon."

Mitzy chimed in, just as Cisco had expected. "And that's the only reason you don't want a gobble and swallow from my partner?" she rebutted, busting his balls.

"Nope. I also heard he uses his teeth."

Mitzy cracked up, and Lucas shook his head, grumbling. "Get the hell gone, Cisco, before I make you catch the woman's ass when she falls over attempting to walk a straight line."

Cisco saluted, handed the driver's papers to Lucas, then turned on his heel and hoofed it back to his bike. He didn't need to be told twice to get away from the inebriated, blonde piranha, nor did he miss the ire in her face as he passed her car and rode off.

Oh, well. It sucked to be her this afternoon.

Ten minutes later he was pulling into the driveway of his childhood home. He liked that it still looked exactly as it had when he was growing up; white paint, black shutters, a welcoming, red front door. Adding to the place's charm, this time of year the flower beds around the house were overflowing with perennials, and if he walked out back where fields stretched back for several acres, he'd see wildflowers in various stages of bloom. Maybe he'd even see a cornflower…

Nope . He wasn't going to allow his head to go back to the lovely Miss Hilly's eyes.

At least not yet.

The door opened and his mother beamed as he turned off his bike, swung his leg over the saddle, and removed his helmet. Once again, his fingers went to his hair, where he pulled his thick curls into some kind of order before approaching his mom.

"Hey, Ma," he said with a grin.

"Hi, sweetie," his mother replied. "I've got lunch already on the table."

Cisco chuckled. "I didn't ask for lunch." Even though he assumed he'd get some.

"But I know you." She rolled her eyes. "Even if you've just eaten, there's no way you'll turn down a bonus meal."

He walked up and gave his mother a quick squeeze, and a kiss on top of her graying head. She still looked mighty fine for a woman in her fifties, her face unlined, her runner's body still chewing up the pavement every other day. And as far as Cisco knew, she also continued climbing trees in her job as an arborist with the town's Tree and Park Department.

"You know me too well, Ma," Cisco smirked. "But I haven't eaten any lunch today, and I'm starving. What's on the menu?"

"Egg salad sandwiches, chips, and lemonade," she told him.

"Nice." Cisco knew there'd be one for her, one for Pops, and three for him. That would keep his stomach happy for a few hours.

His father was already seated at the table, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he scrolled through his phone. "Do you know that the County Commissioners are thinking of rezoning part of the waterfront for condo development?" he asked with a frown.

"You know it's happening everywhere, Gene." His mother clicked her tongue. "The board will recommend it, the residents will fight it, then eventually the locals will be overruled and buildings will go up."

It was the way of things. Developers with deep pockets could afford to pay off a lot of the right people to get what they wanted. It wasn't exactly legal, but there wasn't much the general populace, or even law enforcement could do to combat it.

"Now put your phone down so you don't get heartburn while you eat," his mother scolded, "and say hello to your son."

His father did as his wife ordered, looking up with a smile. "Hi Cisco. It's very interesting to see you on a Saturday before work." He quirked an eyebrow, silently urging Cisco to explain.

Cisco sat down and grinned as he reached for a sandwich. His Pops knew him well.

Cisco took a bite, slowly chewed and swallowed, then gave his good news.

"I've been put on the day shift, seven to three, Monday thru Friday."

"Oh, Cisco!" His mother clapped her hands together and effused. "I'm so happy for you. This has been a long time coming."

"Not really," Cisco countered, grabbing a huge handful of chips from the bag to put on his plate. "I only put in for the change a few weeks ago."

"Right," his father said. "But Frank knows you've wanted it for quite a while now. What made the old goat change his mind?"

Cisco knew that the "old goat" moniker was given with love. His family had been friends with the Ildavorgs since the first year they'd moved to town when Frank was a simple patrolman, and Pops a fledgling construction engineer.

Cisco quickly downed the first half of his initial sandwich, then used his finger to scoop up a blob of egg salad that had escaped, sucking it into his mouth. "Mmm," he said appreciatively before answering his father. "There's a camp out on Lake Pushaw that contacted him about an officer who might be available to teach self-defense to their campers."

Again, his mother looked so pleased. "And you fit the bill perfectly, so he changed your schedule."

"Temporarily?" his father asked, making smaller inroads into his plate than Cisco's plow-through mode of destruction.

"Nope," Cisco responded, happily chewing again. "Permanently, even though the camp gig only lasts two-ish months."

"That's wonderful, Cisco. Congratulations," his mother effused. "Should we go out some night this week and celebrate?"

"Uncle Frank has that covered," Cisco told them after polishing off the second half of his initial sandwich. "He and Aunt Suze want us over for dinner on Thursday night. Are you free?" he asked, even knowing that the answer would be yes. His parents worked full time, and rarely left the house once they got home. Or should he say—regarding his mother—that she hit her easy chair after her every-other-night run.

"We'll make sure we are," his mother answered decisively. "I'll call and see what time she'd like us and find out what I should bring."

Cisco snagged sandwich number two, licking around the edges to prevent more spill-out. He wasn't a pig, but there was no need to stand on ceremony at his folks' table. "She's quilting this weekend at some retreat, so don't call until tomorrow night."

His mother nodded and began eating, which is when Cisco began slowing down, pondering how to bring up the next subject he wanted to broach.

Dammit. This was harder than he thought, and not something he'd generally ask his parents, but they'd been in love for a long time, so…why not get advice from the experts?

Cisco took a deep breath.

"So… I met this woman."