Author's Note: To all who reviewed the previous chapters, thank you for your kind words and constant inspiration. And to Pace Fan, my delightful, talented (and hopefully no longer sleep-deprived) beta, I couldn't do it without you. (Well, I could, but it wouldn't be right.) Please bear with me for the next chapter or two as the action will be take a back seat to some necessary character development. I promise the pace will pick up soon. Meanwhile, ladies, I hope you'll find a visual or two to enjoy in this chapter. (I know I did.)
Should Have Been Me – Chapter 11
The warm water soothed his tense muscles. Standing under the shower, Gage went through the relaxation exercises Walker had taught him as part of his tae kwon do training. He began by tightening the muscles in his face and neck and then releasing them. As he did so, he imagined the tension as a ball of yarn, unwinding with each muscle group he flexed and relaxed. He pictured the stress washing away like the soap bubbles sluicing off his shoulders, arms, back, abdomen, hips, thighs, calves, and finally, toes. When the yarn became one loose strand, he turned off the water, stepped from the shower and grabbed his towel.
As he rubbed his skin dry and ran the towel over his short, blond hair, he thought back over the drive home from Whitesboro. It had been a breeze traffic-wise; he'd practically been alone on the road for most of it. However, with nothing to distract him from thoughts of Sydney and the cozy lunch she was having with Montoya, his mind had whirled with images that put about a thousand kinks in his neck and shoulders. He pictured the two of them laughing and talking, their heads close together, their fingers intertwined; or, God forbid, feeding each other bites of dessert.
Yuck.
It wasn't until he was almost to Dallas that he realized he had a death grip on the steering wheel, which was the likely cause of the ache in his upper body.
Looking in the mirror, he realized that the shower and relaxation techniques had helped his body unwind, but his emotions were still one big jumble. His blue eyes stared back at him full of questions.
Why had Sydney's interest in Montoya bothered him? And if it bothered him, why did he practically push her into his arms when what he really wanted to do was…what? What did he really want when it came to Sydney?
There was no denying he was attracted to her physically. She was gorgeous and that body –
Whoa! Down, boy!
His own body's response to just the thought of her lithe form had him considering another shower, a cold one this time.
But no matter how she turned him on physically, he knew nothing could ever come of it. She wasn't the kind of woman who would settle for a no-strings-attached sexual relationship. Come to think of it, he'd never settle for that either, not just with Sydney, with anybody. He'd been intimate with two women in his life and had believed he was in love both times.
From what he knew of Sydney, he could tell she put her heart and soul into everything she did. He had no reason to believe her relationships would be any different, which meant that unless he was willing to put his heart and soul on the line, too…well, he just wasn't, so that was that.
While he shaved in preparation for his dinner date with Callie, he was still puzzling out the situation with Sydney. Staring himself in the face put him in something of a reflective mood, so he let his mind drift back over the past year since he and Sydney first met.
The two of them had become good friends; he might even say best friends. Initially, it surprised him to discover that his best friend was a woman, but the more he thought about it, the easier it was to explain. Neither of them had any family close by. They both worked more hours than they didn't, which left little time to cultivate friendships with anyone but each other.
As the newest members of Company B, he and Sydney were often given stakeout duty. Usually the bane of any law enforcement officer's existence, stakeouts became prime sharing time for them. They talked and laughed and even argued for hours on end. He had discovered that Sydney shared most of his tastes in everything from movies to fast food. Well, except anchovies. She loved them; he couldn't imagine why anybody would put little dead fish on pizza.
Two months ago, Sydney bought her two-bedroom Craftsman-style cottage in Lower Greenville, a small but affluent neighborhood filled with an eclectic mix of architectural styles from Spanish Modern to English Tudor. Gage had been the first to volunteer to help her move, although Walker, Alex and Jimmy had all done their share as well. He and Sydney spent a lot of their off time together, often at Sydney's house, which was much larger and more comfortable than his high-rise apartment in Walnut Hill. Whether it was watching rented movies or sharing Chinese take-out, everything they did together seemed to be more fun because she was part of it.
"Francis?" Julie called as she knocked lightly on the bathroom door.
He nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd all but forgotten that Julie was staying at his place tonight. She'd been discharged from the hospital, but was still in enough discomfort to not want to ride all the way back to her apartment in Pottsboro until tomorrow or Sunday. Besides, he'd just come back from that area and she didn't want to make him drive all the way there and back again tonight.
"Yeah, sis, what is it? You OK?" He didn't open the door, as he was still dressed in only a towel.
"The sofa bed doesn't have any sheets on it. Where are your extra ones?"
Sofa bed? When he'd rented this partially furnished, one-bedroom apartment, nobody told him the sofa was also a bed. Hmmm. He would never have thought to try to open the thing…Hey, wait a minute!
Modesty be damned, he yanked the door open and glared at his sister as he stalked past her into the living room. Sure enough, a queen-sized mattress extended from the couch frame into the middle of the room.
"What are you doing pulling out my sofa bed? Are you trying to put yourself back in the hospital? Geez, Julie, would it kill you to ask for help with things once in a while?" he bellowed. Was she ever going to let him take care of her? He had to have some way to repay her for all the years she stood up for him.
"I'm here, aren't I?" she snapped back.
"Yeah, you are and I know it's not what you'd prefer. Maybe you'd rather have been in the safe house after all." She had been so overjoyed at not having to go to the safe house that, to Gage's unending surprise, she had readily agreed to stay with him for a day or two.
"No, I mean, I'm alive, Francis. You saved my life. How much more help do you want to be?" She spoke softly, her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, sweetie, don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you." He crossed to her and hugged her close. "But it must have really hurt when you pulled this thing out. I hate knowing you're still hurting and then for you to go and do more harm to yourself when I'm right here to help – it kind of makes me crazy."
She stepped out of his hug and glanced down at his towel, which had loosened just a tad.
"Yeah, you do look a little, uh, nuts at the moment," she snickered.
Gage followed her gaze, realized his predicament and flushed a deep red all the way from his neck to his hair.
"Oh, crap!" he growled as he clasped the towel together, stomped down the short hall to his bedroom and slammed the door.
Julie's laughter followed him down the hall. "It's not like I haven't seen your birthday suit before, Francis."
"Not since I was eight! Trust me, things have changed!" Sisters! Sheesh!
"So, how about those sheets?" Julie queried.
"Uh, check the hall closet. If there are any clean ones, they'll be in there."
"Got it. Thanks," she replied.
Moving to his clothes closet, Gage studied his choices and decided on a pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved blue chambray shirt that fit snugly enough to accentuate his broad shoulders and big biceps without actually looking like it was too small. He pulled on a pair of black roper boots and stood back to assess the whole package in the closet's mirrored door. Dashing, if he did say so himself.
Now if he could just figure out why he had Sydney on the brain when he was supposed to be looking forward to his date with Callie, he'd be all set.
It wasn't that he didn't want to go out with Callie; he really did, very much. But ever since things had gone south in Montoya's office this afternoon, Gage had been searching for answers. Trouble was, he wasn't even sure he knew all the questions.
Having mentally rehashed most of the off-duty activities he shared with Sydney, next he analyzed their work relationship. He had never had a partner who worked harder than she did. In some ways, she was a lot like Julie; she never quit until she got the job done, until she had uncovered the truth and solved the crime.
She never backed down from a fight. She could shoot straighter and run farther than most of the men he knew, let alone ones he had worked with. Hell, it took all he had just to keep from getting his butt kicked when the two of them sparred in the gym. Fortunately, he was just a little better at anticipating her moves than she was at guessing his, so he had yet to suffer the humiliation of actually coming out second best.
When he had requested Sydney as a partner, Walker's initial reaction was mostly positive, but the senior Ranger admitted to a certain hesitation due to her size. If anything, Gage had told him, her small stature was an advantage. Nobody expected such a big punch to come in such a small package, meaning that lots of bad guys underestimated her – once. After that, they showed her nothing but respect.
During the time they had worked undercover on the El Leon case, they had spent most of their time living and communicating as their 'cover characters', so as to not slip into their real personas at the wrong time. As a result, they hadn't shared much in the way of personal information with one another, which explained why Sydney didn't even know he had a sister until Julie got into trouble and needed to be rescued.
It also explained why Gage hadn't thought twice about having another female partner when the first time had turned into such an unmitigated disaster. At the time, he only knew Sydney the Ranger; he hadn't really met Sydney the woman.
Things with Lynne began differently than with Sydney, Gage recalled. The sparks had been flying between them for more than a year when they were assigned to ride together on the Houston police force. They maintained a professional distance for a while, but one thing had led to another and before long they were living together. If he had known how it would all end, he would have quit the force rather than work the same shift as her, let alone get into the same patrol car – or the same bed.
Which raised another question. If he had it to do over again, knowing what he knew now, would he still want Sydney for a partner? If he were really honest with himself – something he usually wasn't – he would have to say no. Not because she couldn't do the job, but because he could no longer separate Sydney the Ranger from Sydney the woman. And that might just lead right back to disaster.
Then, in typical head-in-the-sand fashion, he decided he didn't want to think about it anymore. What was the big deal anyway? Why was he going to the trouble of deciphering his feelings? He should just accept the fact that he couldn't have feelings for Sydney, other than friendship, and get on with his life. They were partners, period. And if he needed a reminder of why stepping outside those lines was a bad idea, all he had to do was look at the .22 slug dangling from his key chain.
It occurred to him that Callie might be the solution to his problem. She was pretty and sweet and they shared a past. Well, a summer, anyway, when she was ten and he was twelve. Maybe if he really had stolen her heart that summer, he might still have a little piece of it. Maybe it could lead to something deeper, something that would make it possible for him to keep his relationship with Sydney purely professional without completely losing his mind.
From the moment he met Callie, some part of him had felt undeniably connected to her. He had wondered briefly if that was what people meant when they talked about love at first sight. But then their shared memories had explained a lot and he realized that the bond he felt was more brotherly than romantic.
"Great, just great," he admonished his reflection. "That's what I get for trying to get in touch with my feelings. Ugh."
Now if the occasion to kiss Callie presented itself – and until two seconds ago he was hoping it would – he'd have that whole brotherly thing pinging around in his head. Wonderful.
After slapping on a dash of cologne, Gage left the bedroom and headed for the front door, stopping briefly at the kitchen counter to collect his keys and wallet. Before he could make it out the door, Julie rounded the corner from the living room and gave him a look that silently, but unmistakably, conveyed, And where do you think you're going, young man?
Gage sighed. "Julie, I told you I had a date tonight. Don't you think I'm a little old for you to be tracking my comings and goings, especially from my own apartment?"
"I don't care if you're running away to join the circus – remember when you threatened to do that? – I need some help making up the sofa bed. Could you do that before you go?"
"Oh, sure. I'd be delighted," he replied, bowing low, happy that she had finally asked him to do something for her.
She smiled, did a sort of curtsy and headed for the kitchen. Over her shoulder she called, "Thanks for your help, little brother. Have fun on your date. I won't wait up."
He thought about telling her it was just dinner, but decided he'd rather keep his options open on that front. He wasn't Callie's brother, after all.
As he tucked sheets and smoothed blankets onto the sofa bed's mattress, something about his 'delighted' comment kept poking at a corner of his mind, as though it was something he'd heard recently but couldn't remember where. He never used words like 'delighted', so where had it come from?
Just as he stuffed the first of two pillows into their cases, it came to him. The way Montoya had said it earlier made it sound like calling Sydney by her first name was the greatest honor anyone had ever bestowed on him.
"Well, have at it, buddy. She lets me call her Syd," Gage silently taunted the trooper as he yanked on the second pillowcase. It took a second for the pathetic nature of his imaginary competition with Montoya to hit him. For crying out loud, what was wrong with him?
"Nothing that an evening with a tall, beautiful, blond EMT won't cure," he muttered under his breath. But if that was true, then why couldn't he get the lead out of his feet or the image of a petite, raven-haired Ranger out of his head?