In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

There was an intimate note in his voice she recognized, and it sent off warning bells in her head. The last thing she wanted was to get more familiar with Jake Symonds. Perhaps they’d struck a temporary truce here, but she still didn’t approve of him. It wasn’t just the way he used his sexy charm so carelessly. It was deeper than that. The choices he made. The kind of life he lived. He caused more problems than he solved around here, and she’d do well to remember it.

She slid off the stool and nodded. “First thing you might want to do is call the insurance company and have someone fix that d

oor. I’m sure boarding it up would violate some sort of fire-code thing, and heaven forbid you shut down for a few days. Wouldn’t want anything to keep the pub closed, would we?” She couldn’t help the sarcastic twist to her final words.

“Well, well. I was wondering how long it would take for the claws to come out. I guess they operate better on a full stomach, huh?”

His eyes, usually so full of sass, flashed at her, mossy green and hard as jade. She’d hit a nerve. Good, she thought with satisfaction.

“I just say it like I see it.”

“Maybe you need glasses, Kendra. You seem to be quite short-sighted.”

Something flickered inside her as he used her first name. It was too personal, too… She swallowed. Too intimate. Which seemed foolish considering they were rarely ever in the same room together.

But there was always the memory of that night. And the fact that for a moment—just a single breath of a moment—his gaze had caught hers and she’d lost herself just a little. They’d connected.

But that had been right before she’d shut the cell door in his face and the moment had been quickly broken. She lifted her chin. “That’s Constable Givens to you.”

“I beg your pardon, Constable.”

She checked her watch—she should have been back by now. All she really wanted was a hot shower and to crawl into bed. But the thought of a hot shower brought her earlier thought about Jake to the front of her mind, and she felt heat rise through her body. She’d go home and have a shower, and it would definitely be a shower alone.

“We’ll be in touch with any developments.” She deliberately used the all-encompassing we. “And we’d appreciate any numbers you come up with for cash and stolen items.”

“I’ll make sure the detachment gets it.”

She stalked out, her shoes making heavy footsteps on the wood floor. Outside, the sun was fully up and the air was heating, promising another scorcher of a day. Scratch the hot shower. By the time she got home she would probably require a lukewarm shower just so she could cool off enough to sleep in her stuffy apartment.

The idea that Jake Symonds could be contributing to the elevated temperature didn’t bear thinking about.

Chapter Two

Jake rubbed the grit out of his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Another short night. He reached over and grabbed his iPhone beside the bed and checked the time. Nearly eight. Which wouldn’t be that bad on a normal night—except he’d had the damned nightmare again and had lain awake for too long, listening to the quiet. Even the peepers had stopped chirping some time during the night, and the hot air had been frustratingly still. The only thing he’d heard in the darkness was the odd transport truck up on the highway. The lack of noise only made the sounds in his head louder.

The dream wasn’t always the same, but it was always Khaterah’s face he saw. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes ugly. Sometimes he could see everything—her eyes, her smooth skin, the lush curve of her lips. Other times it was just the gleam of her eyes from the slit in her burka.

In the end though, the image was always the same. Blood and the dull stare of her eyes before he gently closed the lids forever.

Goddammit.

He shoved the covers off and got out of bed. No sense lying around and overthinking again. What was done was done. He’d gotten out after his last deployment and this was his reality now. His business. His family—he really should make more of an effort to see them.

But his business had a hiccup with the theft and his family…well, they always watched him very closely and asked him if he needed to talk.

What he needed was to forget. But the usual ways of forgetting hadn’t worked. He always woke up with a big head and a bad taste in his mouth, so he’d put himself on the other side of the bar instead, putting in long hours to keep the wolf from the door.

And the bar was doing well. He couldn’t say as much for the demons in his head.

He pulled on a pair of board shorts and a T-shirt, splashed some water on his face and felt better. Today was the one day of the week he stayed closed. He knew he probably lost business by closing on Sundays, but he’d never quite escaped the idea that Sunday was family day, as it had always been at home. Maybe he didn’t go for the family dinner around the table thing, but he knew his employees had families and friends, and they didn’t want to work all weekend long either. They deserved a quiet day the same as anyone else.

Today wasn’t a complete day of rest for Jake though. He’d agreed to co-sponsor a barbeque at a food bank fundraiser—flipping burgers and hot dogs was more his speed than face painting and dunking booths.

Though he thought it might be fun to put Kendra Givens on that particular hot seat. He’d bet anything she’d look sexy as hell dripping wet and mad.

The thought gave him a little boost as he grabbed a quick breakfast and began loading boxes and coolers into his truck. There’d been a moment that day over breakfast that she’d almost been friendly. Until she’d remembered she didn’t like him and turned all frosty again.

He slammed the tailgate of the truck with a satisfying thud. Not that he blamed her. He hadn’t exactly been a gentleman the night she’d slapped the cuffs on him and nudged him into the back of the police car. It hadn’t been his finest moment and he knew it. He wasn’t quite sure why she’d held the grudge so long though. She seemed to disapprove of everything he said and did, when he was just making an honest living. Running a pub in what was practically his home town was a far cry from the heat and dust of Afghanistan.