In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

When he got to Stile Park the tents were set up already and volunteers hustled around organizing the various games and activities that would take place throughout the afternoon. Jake shook hands with a couple from the local grocery store who were co-sponsoring the food tents and began unloading the coolers of ice, filling them with soft drinks. At eleven, they fired up the grills and slapped on the first of the hamburgers. The crowd started coming—getting an entry hand stamp in exchange for a food donation. A local radio station fired up some music and the first small child sat up to get a unicorn painted on their cheek. Jake enjoyed himself for a while as all the smells of summertime filled the air and a slight breeze flowed through the awning that provided them with shade. He passed out food and replenished condiments and felt the restlessness of the morning slip away. Until he looked up and saw her.

Constable Givens. In her uniform. All five foot five inches of her—well, a little more than that with her cap perched firmly on her head. All pressed and starched and looking annoyingly official with her dark hair tightly braided, the slightly frayed end falling just below her collar.

“Hey, Jake, I think you might want to turn those burgers,” his grill-mate, Paul, said. He looked down, saw the edges were becoming a little too brown, and hurried to flip them over. Paul was cheerfulness personified as he used tongs to put hotdogs in buns and handed them over to a group of young boys with grubby faces and hands.

When Jake looked up she was gone from view. But her appearance had unsettled him. He wished he could say that she put a damper on his enjoyment, but it wasn’t true.

Truth was, he thought Constable Givens was pretty attractive, starchy uniform or not. It was designed for function and authority, and there was certainly nothing feminine about it or the equipment she was required to wear while on duty. He frowned as he put the burgers into waiting buns. Maybe it wasn’t feminine, and maybe it was all the years he’d spent in a uniform himself…but he found it sexy as hell.

“Looks like you’re cooking again.” Her voice surprised him, and he lifted his head to stare at her. The coolness from their previous encounter was gone, though it still felt quite polite rather than friendly.

“Looks like,” he replied.

“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” she remarked, grabbing a napkin from the stack on the table.

“Likewise.”

She looked up at him with clear blue eyes. “Why not? It’s pretty common for the detachments to show up at charity events.”

“More common than troublesome redneck pub owners?”

She pursed her lips and held out her plate for a hamburger. “I never said you were a redneck.”

He enjoyed sparring with her. She was a worthy opponent and he took his time choosing her burger from the ones on the warming rack. “You thought it.”

“No, actually I didn’t.” She moved down the line to get the ketchup and mustard.

“Troublesome pub owner then.”

She shrugged, and he chuckled. “Well, at least you’re not a liar,” he said.

“If you saw the call log for a typical weekend, you’d understand,” she replied. “It’s not personal.”

He didn’t believe her. “Come on, Kendra, of course it is. The night you threw me in the drunk tank you made a judgment, and nothing’s changed.”

She raised an eyebrow. Jake, however, turned away and smiled at a couple who were looking for lunch. Let her stew. He’d wanted to say that for some time now. He’d been a hellion that summer and he knew it, but it was over now.

He’d rather forget those months altogether.

When they were alone once more she spoke. “What am I supposed to think? You were running around the parking lot in your underwear, after picking a fight with a guy half your size. You’re lucky you didn’t get slammed with assault charges. You were an asshole, plain and simple. And when you came back for good, the first thing you did was open a bar, for God’s sake. Do you know the majority of my calls are drunk and disorderlies?”

He’d wanted to get a rise out of her and he’d succeeded, but her response made Jake’s temper start to stir. She knew nothing about him. Nothing. “So you disapprove of me and you disapprove of my kind of business. Got it. I guess that puts my case on the bottom of the list, right?”

Her face seemed unusually pale in the bright sunlight. “Of course not. It’s my job.” She sounded appalled that he would challenge her integrity that way, while she seemed to have no problem insulting his with every breath.

He slapped another dozen burgers on the barbeque and sprinkled them with salt and pepper. “Well, that’s comforting,” he replied. He met her gaze evenly. He

could sense the suggestion of curves even in the straight dark trousers and bulky vest of her uniform. He wished he didn’t notice quite so much. Especially since it was in his best interest to maintain a positive relationship with law enforcement in the area. He shouldn’t be antagonizing her so much, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

There was something about her he connected with, and that puzzled him. They were as different as night and day. Oil and water. But the night she’d locked him up, there’d been a moment. He’d looked her dead in the eye and something had passed between them. It made him curious. And while he tried to get a rise out of her, he also respected her a lot. It wasn’t easy being a cop. Couldn’t be easy being a woman and a cop.

He knew right enough that she’d handle his case with the same attention she did everything. It was who she was.

Just then the day’s coordinator approached, a frown pursing her face.

“Burger, Martha?” Jake asked.

“Not right now. We have a problem, and I was wondering if you could help us out with it.”