Hot and Bothered by Linda Cajio

doesn’t have the same vehicle inspection or safety measuresthe States has. And Pedro’s car needs new brakes.”
    Her expression fell. “Oh, dear. Well, I’ll just have to risk it anyway. I do need to go to the store occasionally.”
    “I’ll take you.” He knew he should just leave things be, but he couldn’t. Besides, this was a good deed. That was all.
    “I don’t think that’s wise,” she began.
    “Wiser than Pedro the Indy 500 fan, with no brakes to speak of.”
    She didn’t answer.
    Well, he’d warned her and put the offer out there, he thought. And he hadn’t asked
why
she’d put her car under cover. He ought to get brownie points for that.
    The kid-tossing wrapped up shortly after that, and everyone went up onto the beach, Judith pulling conspicuously at her T-shirt. Paul wished she’d leave it alone, not only because the view was more delightful but her actions only attracted his gaze more. He couldn’t win with her.
    The kids scampered off, leaving them alone. The innocent abandon turned again to unease.
    “They’re so much fun,” Judith said, probably trying to get back the mood. She picked up a towel, obviously hers since no one else had claimed it, and wrapped it deftly around her body, covering herself from his view. Paul containedhis disappointment. She added, “I wish I had kids, don’t you?”
    “I already do.”
    The words slipped out before he could stop them. She was already rounding on him, gaping in surprise.
    “You do? I didn’t know that.”
    “Of course you don’t.” He set his jaw, wishing this subject would go away and wondering what he would say if it didn’t.
    She frowned at him. “You don’t have to be sarcastic. Just say, ‘Don’t probe.’ ”
    Oddly, now he wanted to tell her. “I have a daughter. She lives with her mother in L.A.”
    “What’s her name?”
    It hurt to say it. “Amanda.”
    “How funny. I always wanted to be named Amanda.”
    He smiled at her. “Judith suits you.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “How old is Amanda?”
    “Nine.”
    “She must be gorgeous. I bet she has a lot of fun when she comes down to visit you here—”
    “I don’t see her.”
    Judith’s eyes widened.
    “I don’t see her, okay?” He turned away and began to walk to his house. Why? he asked himself. Why had he had the urge to say anything to Judith and open an old wound? That it had alreadybeen pried at with Amanda’s letter didn’t matter.
    Unfortunately, Judith wanted to open that wound wider, for she hurried after him. “You don’t see her at all? Was it some awful custody battle? Is that what happened?”
    “No. My choice.”
    “Your choice! How could you do that? Choose not to see your own child?”
    Something awful bubbled up inside him, demanding release. He leaned toward her and snapped out, “Because she has a monster for a father. I was a cop and I shot a twelve-year-old kid during a drug bust that went wrong. You read about me—you had to have—the whole damn world did. There was a big trial that got all kinds of press until I was exonerated. The whole mess disappeared with a whimper, but my wife couldn’t handle it, and it was terrible for Amanda. I left because that was the only way I could make it better for her. There. You’ve got the gruesome details of my life. Still think I’m some irresponsible dad?”
    She just stood, staring at him. He could see the horror in her eyes. She knew the truth about him now. It didn’t matter that the boy had pointed a .357 Magnum at his chest. It didn’t matter that the boy had had a coldness in his eyes. It didn’t matter that he, Paul, had reacted as he’d been taught, as anyone would have instinctivelyreacted. He should have taken the kid’s bullet. He should have died that day.
    Instead, a kid had died.
    Paul would never live without that moment standing out vividly in the back of his mind … and all the guilt that accompanied it.
    He left her, still staring, and went up to his lonely