Twice in a Lifetime

  Twice in a Lifetime

  Police detective Callie Burke returned to western New York after a bad breakup. She immerses herself in work as a way of avoiding any personal connections. But as her feelings for her sister’s boss and late friend’s widow move beyond friendship, she isn’t quite sure how to handle it.

  Bar owner Taylor Fletcher lost her firefighter wife almost four years ago. Dating is the last thing on her mind. She gave her heart away once and isn’t willing to risk that kind of pain again. But now Callie, a woman she isn’t even sure she likes, is getting under her skin.

  Because of a threat on Taylor’s life, they spend more time together, and both begin to feel things they never expected. Callie’s never had the once-in-a-lifetime type of love. Taylor has, but Callie makes her wonder if it’s possible to find that kind of love twice in a lifetime.

  Twice in a Lifetime

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  Twice in a Lifetime

  © 2018 By PJ Trebelhorn. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-034-4

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: February 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design by Tammy Seidick

  By the Author

  From This Moment On

  True Confessions

  Missing

  Trusting Tomorrow

  Desperate Measures

  Up the Ante

  Taking a Gamble

  The Right Kind of Wrong

  Twice in a Lifetime

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to everyone at Bold Strokes Books, especially Len Barot and Sandy Lowe. I’ve said it before, but this is an awesome family I feel honored to be a part of.

  To my editor, Cindy Cresap, what can I say? You make me a better writer, and you make editing (almost) enjoyable. You’re the best.

  None of this would be possible without you, the readers, so I thank you all as well. I truly enjoy every email, and Facebook comment I get.

  Dedication

  For Cheryl, always

  Chapter One

  Callie Burke jerked her head up and reached for the gun in her shoulder holster. The laughter coming from the passenger side of the car reminded her where she was and what she was doing. Or at least what she was supposed to be doing. Sleeping was definitely not it. She scrubbed her face with her hands and sat up straighter in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly to keep from strangling the man in the seat next to her.

  “You’re an ass, Chambers,” she said as she stretched her neck and sighed at the satisfying pop it produced. “Have I told you that lately?”

  “Pretty sure you find a way to tell me every day, but I know you love me anyway, Burke,” her partner, Harry Chambers, replied, still laughing. He was a lifelong cop with the Rochester Police Department, and at almost sixty years old, he was just about twenty years older than Callie, who had celebrated her thirty-ninth birthday a few weeks earlier.

  “Yeah, I do, but it doesn’t change the fact you’re an ass,” Callie said, unable to stop the smile his laughter produced. As far as partners went, she could have done a hell of a lot worse. She knew she had Amanda Rodgers, her lieutenant, to thank for pairing them together. Harry didn’t have a problem with women on the police force like some of the other male detectives in homicide. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s lucky you didn’t shoot me. The department kind of frowns on things like that, you know?”

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Just a couple of minutes.” He reached into the backseat and produced a thermos of the best coffee Callie had ever tasted. She quickly grabbed her cup and held it out for a refill, which caused another bout of laughter from him. “And I can pretty much guarantee Deb would never make coffee for you again if you shot me.”

  “Then you’re lucky I like her coffee so much. Just fill my cup, old man,” Callie tried to stifle a yawn but was unsuccessful. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard and a feeling of relief washed over her. Their shift was almost over, and Callie couldn’t have been happier. She hated spending so much time on stakeouts, especially when the perp they were after hadn’t been seen anywhere in the area for well over twenty-four hours. She took a sip of the coffee and closed her eyes with a satisfied groan. “Remind me to kiss Deb the next time I see her.”

  “Not sure that’s going to happen.” He chuckled and shook his head.

  Yes, Callie owed a debt of gratitude to Amanda for partnering her with Harry. Not only was he respectful of women, but he could have taken offense to what she’d just said. In fact, many of the other guys on the squad would probably have given her a rash of shit for making a suggestive comment about one of their wives.

  “I can’t wait to get out of here and home to bed. I’m beat,” he said with a yawn of his own. “Who knew sitting in a car all night could zap your energy? You going dancing tonight?”

  “No, not tonight.” Callie had no desire, or energy, to dance tonight, but she could sure as hell use a beer or two. Her sister Quinn was the head bartender at a bar in town and working tonight. Maybe she’d stop in and see her for a few minutes. The bar was within walking distance from her apartment, so if she ended up drinking too much she wouldn’t have to worry about how she’d be getting home.

  Callie watched in the rearview mirror as another car pulled in behind them. The driver flashed their headlights once before cutting the engine.

  “I’ll go fill them in,” Harry said, reaching for the handle.

  Callie closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the headrest. She should probably just go home and sleep, but she hadn’t seen Quinn in a few days. She had to stop and think about what day it actually was, because when you were doing stakeouts, the days had a tendency to all run together. She was pretty sure it was Thursday, which meant it had been four days since Sunday brunch with Mom, and the last time she’d seen Quinn.

  “All set,” Harry said as he got back in the car and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. “It’s going to be another rough winter, I think. It’s too freaking cold out there, even for mid-November.”

  “Shut your mouth, Harry, or you’ll make me want to go back to Atlanta.” Callie checked her mirrors before pulling out into traffic and heading back to the station. She was kidding because other than the warmer winters in the south, there really wasn’t much she’d liked about being there. Especially considering the reasons she’d come back home.

  No, she didn’t miss Atlanta at all.

  * * *

  Callie took a deep breath before opening the door and walking into the bar. It wasn’t a big place, but during the school year it was usually pretty busy with college students. The bar was to the left, a few tables were scattered around a small dance floor, and a separate room in the back had pool tables and dart boards for the p
eople not interested in dancing.

  Callie perused the area and noted the high number of women dancing with women, and men dancing with men. Despite the owner and the head bartender both being lesbians, the place had never been advertised as a gay or lesbian bar. The clientele had made it that way. Her eyes stopped on Taylor Fletcher, the owner of the establishment, who was behind the bar talking to Quinn. Callie shook her head and allowed a small smile at the way her heart sped up at the sight of Taylor.

  She noticed a couple vacating their stools at the bar, and quickly made her way over to snag one of the seats before anyone else could even think about freezing her out.

  She watched silently while Quinn and Taylor finished up whatever business they were discussing, and then Taylor glanced at her and looked like she was about to say something, but then simply shook her head and went back to her office. Callie sighed in defeat.

  Taylor had caught her eye not long after her sister started working there, about fifteen years earlier. She had dark brown hair that looked better when it was cut short, as it was now. And although Callie never considered brown eyes attractive, Taylor’s were such a pale shade it was nearly impossible to not notice them.

  Quinn set a pint in front of her without asking what she wanted. Callie knew her quick look at the rest of the people seated at the bar was all Quinn needed to know she had a few minutes to talk before anyone needed a refill.

  “What’s up?” she asked Callie.

  “Just needed a beer.”

  “Rough day?”

  “Incredibly boring day.” Callie chuckled and leaned back in her seat. “I hate stakeouts.”

  “All the more reason you should come with us for Thanksgiving.”

  “I can’t, Quinn,” she said for what felt like the twentieth time. “I’ve only been back with the Rochester PD for a few months, and there’s no way I could ask for a week off so soon.”

  What she wasn’t going to admit to Quinn, or anyone else for that matter, was she would feel uncomfortable at their sister Meg’s house. After so many years of not even speaking to Meg and their oldest sister, Beth, it was just too weird to think about visiting for the first time. She was happy they were getting closer, at least to Meg, and Callie even spoke with her on the phone every few days, but talking on the phone and being at her house for a week were worlds apart in her opinion.

  “Quinn, you have customers,” Taylor said as she walked up beside her.

  “Be right back,” Quinn said to Callie before heading to the other end of the bar.

  Callie was about to say something to Taylor, but she walked away quickly. Yes, she’d always been attracted to Taylor, but she and Andrea, one of Callie’s closest friends, had been married, so she never even thought about acting on the attraction. When Andrea, a firefighter, had been killed on the job over three years ago, Taylor never wanted to talk to anyone but Quinn about it, so Callie had kept her distance, which meant she hardly ever came into the bar anymore. She always knew Taylor didn’t like her anyway, so staying away wasn’t too difficult. She took a sip of her beer and then Quinn was back.

  “Don’t know what her problem is tonight,” Quinn said, looking in the direction Taylor had gone.

  “I’m her problem tonight,” Callie said without meaning to speak out loud. But since she had, and Quinn’s expression gave away her confusion, she went on. “For some reason, the woman hates me.”

  “Bullshit. Taylor doesn’t hate anyone.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Why do you think she does?” Quinn leaned forward with her elbows on the bar.

  “I know she does, Quinn. Andrea told me as much.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Quinn shook her head and straightened to wipe the bar down with a towel. “I know Taylor, and she isn’t capable of hate.”

  “She thought I was a bad influence on Andrea.” Callie held her glass with both hands and stared into the beer as she spoke. “She thought I was reckless and worried my carelessness would somehow rub off on Andrea. I wouldn’t be surprised if she blamed me for Andrea’s death.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Callie had a feeling there was more to it than what she’d stated to Quinn. Taylor didn’t like her because she represented everything Andrea had given up to be with her. Andrea made a commitment, and Callie was still out there, a different woman every night, and Taylor had been worried Andrea would start to miss her old life. At least that was her take on the situation.

  But Callie had known Andrea was perfectly happy to give up the life she’d been living. She was so in love with Taylor it made Callie envious. She wanted what they had together, and she thought she’d found it with Jan, who she followed to Atlanta a few months after Andrea died. What a miserable mistake moving with Jan turned out to be when she’d discovered a couple of years later her girlfriend had fallen in love with someone else. She’d left the same day she found out and came back home, only to discover a reawakening of feelings for Taylor she thought had been buried long ago.

  Callie downed what was left in her glass and gave Quinn the money for her drink. She put her coat on and turned to leave, but Quinn reached across the bar and grabbed her wrist.

  “I don’t believe she hates you, and she talked to me a lot in the weeks and months after Andrea died. If she blamed you for what happened, I’d know it. She’s never said a word about you to me at all.”

  Callie wasn’t sure what was worse. Taylor not liking her, or Taylor not even caring enough to say anything about her to Quinn. None of it mattered anyway because they were obviously never going to be friends. If for no other reason, Callie was sure every time Taylor saw her she thought about Andrea.

  Chapter Two

  Taylor sat in her office after closing, finishing up her work for the day. She was distracted, and she really didn’t like being distracted. She was at her best when she was focused solely on what she was doing. What should have taken her fifteen minutes to complete was now going on an hour. She sighed and took her glasses off before rubbing her tired eyes.

  She didn’t understand the strange attraction she was experiencing toward Callie. It wasn’t logical, and quite frankly, it was unacceptable. Not to mention completely out of character for her. But what bothered her the most was it made absolutely no sense. It was Saturday night—no, technically Sunday morning—and she hadn’t seen Callie for two days. So why the hell was she popping up in her mind now?

  “I’m not sure I even like her, for God’s sake,” she said to the empty room. She took a deep breath and tried to get back into her work. After a few minutes, her mind began to wander again. “Damn it.”

  After Andrea died, Taylor knew it would have been reasonable to turn to Callie for a shoulder to cry on, but for some reason, she hadn’t. Other than her, Callie was the one person who knew Andrea the best. In fact, she was sure Callie knew things about Andrea even she didn’t know, and she’d been her wife. Callie had to have been hurting after the loss as well, but in the beginning, Taylor found it easier to place the blame for Andrea’s death on Callie. It was wrong to do, and deep down she knew it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Andrea had run back into the burning building to rescue a child, but she never made it back out. Three other firefighters had died in the same fire. It had been a bad day for the Brockport Fire Department.

  “At least I can think about it without choking up now.” She wondered briefly when that had happened. And the talking to herself. She’d never made a habit of it before. She stood, knowing full well she wasn’t going to be able to finish her work tonight, so she grabbed her coat and turned out the lights. She’d just have to come in early tomorrow and finish it.

  The drive home took her just about ten minutes, and she smiled when Blaze, her five-year-old golden retriever, met her with his usual puppy-like enthusiasm. The day Andrea brought him home, Taylor fell head over heels in love with him. And every day since then, she loved him even more. They’d leaned on each other after Andrea died, and Taylor was convinced he was just
as upset as she’d been when Andrea never came home again.

  After she took off her coat and shoes, she led him into the living room and got on the floor with him for their nightly wrestling match. For Blaze, it was more of a love-fest though. Taylor hardly touched him and he flopped over, exposing his belly for a rub.

  “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” she said as he wiggled around on his back looking up at her and smiling. She knew he wasn’t really smiling, but it certainly looked like he was. He stopped moving and his tail began to thump against the floor.

  While he went into the backyard to take care of his business, Taylor washed the few dishes she’d left in the sink before leaving for work earlier. Once Blaze was back inside, she went to the bedroom with him close behind. As usual, he waited patiently for her to get into the bed and get comfortable before jumping up and stretching out beside her, pressed back to back. Taylor glanced at the picture on her bedside table and smiled sadly.

  The photo had been taken on their wedding day, and had always been Andrea’s favorite of them together. They were laughing at something the photographer had said and looked like they hadn’t a care in the world. Taylor sighed as she rolled onto her back, and Blaze rested his chin on her stomach with a whimper. It was almost as though he knew she was sad, and he was trying to tell her it would be all right.

  And for the first time in over three years, Taylor was starting to think it just might.

  * * *

  It was sickening, really. Quinn and her girlfriend, Grace, were still in the “can’t keep their hands off each other” phase. Callie rolled her eyes from the other side of the table as Grace fed Quinn a piece of bacon with her fingers.