"I already know that, but why the guilt? Why won't you talk to me?"
She shot him a dark look. "I don't want to get into this. Not now."
"We work together. I need to be able to trust you. I deserve an explanation."
She looked down at her hands, stilled them by smoothing the pillowcase. "I froze up, Nick. I screwed up and got hit. I let Danny Perrine take a hit. How do you expect me to feel?"
"Frank said it wasn't your fault."
"According to Internal Affairs. But they weren't there."
"You feel differently?"
"If I'd reacted differently, Danny wouldn't be stuck in a wheelchair with a bullet in his spine. I'd still have my career. And I wouldn't be here in Logan Falls trying to get back everything I've lost. Does that answer your question?"
"It doesn't tell me why you feel responsible."
"I made a mistake. It's as stupid and simple as that."
"So you're trying to make up for your so-called mistake by putting yourself on the line? By taking unnecessary risks? We both know that's not going to change what happened."
"I'm dealing with this the only way I know how."
"What are you trying to prove, McNeal?"
Her eyes heated. "I don't have anything to prove."
"I think you do. Only it's not to me or Frank or Internal Affairs. You've got something to prove to yourself."
"You don't know me as well as you think you do."
"You're getting defensive," he pointed out.
"Damn right I am."
"Look, I know what it's like to feel responsible for something, even when you're not."
"You know, Nick, I've had just about all the cop psychoanalysis I can take." Jerking her robe off the back of the sofa, Erin rose abruptly and headed toward the kitchen, pulling it over her shoulders as she went.
Nick knew better than to go after her. She looked shaky at best. He didn't want to take a chance of her falling apart on him. But he'd reached the point where he needed answers about what had happened that night. "You can't let the guilt eat at you. You can't keep blaming yourself. You're going to end up getting hurt."
"What happened today wasn't my fault."
"I'm not talking about today."
At the kitchen entry, Erin spun to face him. "Wouldn't you be a little disturbed if you were responsible for putting your partner in a wheelchair? For ending a man's career? Wouldn't you feel a little guilty if he hated you so much he couldn't look you in the eye? That his wife couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice when you called to check on him? That the only reason you continue to put yourself through it is because you feel so guilty you can't stand it? His kids look at me like I'm the devil incarnate, Nick. How would you feel?"
He crossed the space between them. "Maybe I'd feel guilty. But I don't think I'd be blaming myself when I'd been cleared by a bunch of veteran cops who know the ropes."
"I walked into a dangerous situation that night with one goal in mind-to make that bust no matter what the cost. I didn't consider the possibility that someone might get hurt. I didn't think about Danny. Or his wife. Or his two kids."
"A cop can't be effective if he dwells on-"
"I froze up! I didn't react until both of us were down."
"Why did you hesitate, McNeal?"
She blinked at him as if the question had stunned her. "The shooter… he was just a kid…"
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. "You're not the only cop who's ever hesitated for that reason," he said.
"Look, Nick, I know you're trying to help. But you're not. I don't need your amateur-shrink bull. I'm handling this."
He snorted. "I can tell."
Her nostrils flared. "Spare me the sarcasm. This is hard enough without you-"
"All I'm trying to tell you is that you don't have to deal with this alone."
"I'm the one who got my partner shot. Who else should deal with it but me?"
"Danny Perrine wasn't the only one who got shot that night, McNeal. You took a bullet, too. You risked your life and you've got the scar to prove it. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe both of you are alive today because of you?"
"That sounds really good, Chief. It even makes me sound heroic. But we both know that's not how it really happened, don't we?"
Nick raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "You know, McNeal, if we were anywhere but Logan Falls, I'd yank you off the street so fast you'd get whip-lash."
A short laugh broke from her throat. "Careful, my confidence is soaring."
"You're not helping matters."
"Leave it alone, Nick. I don't want to discuss this with you. I don't want to-"
"Deal with it? Level with me? Be truthful with yourself?"
"How about all of the above?"
"You'd rather wallow in guilt? Funny, but I didn't peg you as the wallowing type."
"That's not fair. None of this has been easy to take."
"All, there you go again, talking about fair. Haven't you learned by now that fair doesn't enter the picture when it comes to real life?"
"I'm not going to have this conversation with you."
She turned to walk into the kitchen, but Nick stopped her by grasping her biceps and turning her toward him. Couldn't she see he was trying to help her?
"You're a good cop," he said. "You're gutsy and brave, with a bright future. But you've got to give yourself time to heal. You've got to accept the reality that sometimes bad things happen that we can't control." The statement made him grimace when he thought of his own life, and the harsh reality of the last three years. But he knew now wasn't the time to address his own demons. Not when it was so much easier to address hers.
When she turned to him, Nick noticed the tears shimmering in her eyes. He stared at her, stricken, torn between the need to comfort and the stark, sudden need for distance.
"Don't cry on me now, McNeal."
"I'm not crying." She tried to turn away to keep him from seeing her tears, but he held her fast.
"You're part of my team," he said. "Your safety is my responsibility. I'm not the enemy here. Do you understand?"
"I can't talk about this right now." She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. "Let go of me so I can humiliate myself in peace."
He knew better than to let her tears get to him. But to see the strong woman before him reduced to a trembling bundle of raw emotions tore his judgment to shreds. He didn't like thinking of the physical pain the bullet had caused her or the mental anguish she'd lived with because of it. He sure didn't want to think about the way he was reacting to her. Not physically. Certainly not emotionally.
Damning the consequences, he reached for her. "Come here."
She resisted for an instant, then took a tentative step toward him. "Nick-"
"Shh." Her body came against his like a soft, liquid jolt of electricity. Pleasure wound slowly through him. The smell of clean hair and womanly flesh penetrated his resistance. Softness and heat tore down his defenses. Awareness spiraled through him when her arms went around his neck.
Nick closed his eyes against sensations and feelings he had absolutely no desire to examine. Not with Erin McNeal. A woman who could destroy every wall, every line of defense he'd built in the last three years. But the warmth of her body heated his blood. The softness of her breasts against his chest tormented him in ways he'd forgotten existed.
She murmured something against his shoulder, but Nick didn't comprehend the words. All he could think of was that he wanted her closer, wanted to feel her against him, caution be damned.
Helpless to keep himself from it, he tightened his arms around her. Awareness and pleasure melded into need. His hand went to the back of her head. He stroked her hair. It felt like silk beneath his fingertips, and he marveled at the texture. Tilting his head, he pressed his cheek against her hair and took in her scent. Sweet. Mysterious. Titillating.