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Cold Case Recruit. Jennifer MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Cold Case Recruit - Jennifer Morey


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picked up on some attraction between us and I just have to get something off my chest.”

      “Okay.” She took a step back.

      “I don’t do marriage and I don’t do kids. You should know that up front.”

      “Wh...what?”

      Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to say something like that. “You need to understand that about me before this goes any further.”

      Outraged, she put her hands on her hips. “Before what goes any further? You’re jumping to conclusions a little, don’t you think? Marriage?”

      Maybe, maybe not. “I just want it out in the open.” And he didn’t want to talk about his past in Alaska.

      She gaped at him, slack-jawed. “That you don’t do marriage or kids.”

      “Yes. This is a business relationship. We don’t get involved. And if we...you know, then I’ve warned you.”

      No marriage. No kids. That included Junior. He had nothing against the boy; he just couldn’t be part of her family unit.

      “Well, for your information, I don’t want a relationship anyway. My husband was murdered. What makes you think I’d want to get involved with you?” She passed him.

      Maybe he’d spoken too soon. Maybe he should have waited. “I’m sorry. I just thought I should tell you. I mean no disrespect.”

      With a peculiar glance back, she went into the kitchen and started cleaning up before packing for their trip.

      He helped her clear the table in awkward silence until she calmed down. He could tell she’d calmed, because she stopped slamming dishes.

      “Why don’t you think you’ll never get married?” she asked at the sink.

      “I don’t think. It’s a choice I’ve made because I don’t believe in it. Marriages never last. My parents were married almost thirty years and should have divorced after ten. Humans aren’t meant to stay married to the same person their entire lives. So why bother getting married?”

      “You base your decision off your parents’ marriage? Did they love each other?”

      “Sure. My mother loved that he worked and she didn’t have to and then she loved the alimony payments until she remarried. My dad loved a woman who didn’t complain and always had dinner ready and the laundry clean.”

      She loaded a dish into the dishwasher. “You don’t make them sound very likable. Do you ever see them?”

      “Every Christmas.” He threw out some trash, finding an automatic lid trash container by the counter.

      “I bet you aren’t this charming on your TV show.”

      He chuckled. She meant the exact opposite. He came across as an ass when he talked about marriage. Some people didn’t like hearing the truth. “My mother wasn’t happy. My father wasn’t happy. They convinced themselves early on that they were. And maybe they were at first. They liked each other. But then after a few years, they wasted too much time trying to make their marriage work. I just wish they wouldn’t have waited, that’s all. When they could no longer convince themselves they were happy, they should have ended it.”

      She worked as she absorbed what he said. “You must feel like every memory of them together was a lie.”

      “Some of them, yes. They basically played roles for my benefit. The good, loving mother who doted on her husband. The steady, kind, disciplinary father who took care of his wife. Now that I can see what phonies they were, it makes me bitter. I’d rather they fought and threw things. At least it would have been real.” He handed her a glass from the sink, which was full of about a day’s worth of dishes.

      She took it from him. “You must not like your parents much.”

      “Oh, no. Contrary. I love them both very much.”

      She breathed a laugh. “Really.”

      “Yes, especially now that I know who they really are.”

      “Is that what you think you have with women? Real relationships?” She put the glass in the dishwasher.

      “Unconditionally.” He truly believed in sticking with the truth no matter how ugly or harmful. Maybe that was the homicide detective in him. Maybe he’d learned from his parents.

      With the water still running in the sink, she rested her hands on the counter and turned her head toward him. “Do you believe in love?”

      This qualified as personal, but he didn’t object. She needed to understand. “I believe we’re meant to love lots of people, not just one. And I don’t mean that it’s okay to be unfaithful. Monogamy is important while the relationship lasts.”

      “That’s not love.”

      “It’s a form of love.” He rinsed a plate and handed it to her.

      She took it. “No. That’s impulsively going from one relationship to the next and not holding out for the one that really matters.”

      But the one that really matters didn’t exist. To him, every woman he was with mattered, not just one, exulted one. One, superior woman was the stuff of fairy tales. Like Cinderella. Pure fantasy. A wonderful, magical dream. She walked into that ballroom alone and everyone stopped just to watch her come down the stairs in her fairy godmother gown that outshined all others. Something like that would never happen in real life. A man didn’t find a woman who made all others seem plain and insignificant.

      But he didn’t think he could make Drury understand.

      “It’s love to me,” he said.

      She put the plate in the dishwasher. “No. That is not love. Clearly you’ve never been in love.”

      “I only know what works for me.” He handed her another plate.

      “Well. Thanks for the warning, then.” She put the plate in the dishwasher and glanced at him from behind a sexy curtain of hair.

      He didn’t say she likely idolized her husband in death and merely thought she had true love with him. He wouldn’t argue over this. He wouldn’t have a chance with her. He’d scared her off. Well, good. He didn’t need his ideals put to any kind of love test anyway. Especially since he also had to put aside the nagging feeling that his attraction to her rose above anything he’d ever experienced before.

      His Cinderella...?

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