In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

He could see Kendra standing to the side, hanging on every word. “What’s going on?”

“Our emcee is sick, and we want to make the presentations in about twenty minutes—to the food bank, of course, and also announce the various prize winners. You’re a hometown boy and a veteran, and you’re also one of the sponsors. You’d be the perfect person to fill in.”

“No problem.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Why not?”

“Oh, thank you.” Martha let out a huge sigh of relief. “We can always count on you, Jake.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “About twenty minutes, okay?”

She scurried off while Jake felt Kendra’s eyes glued to him.

“What?” he asked, not looking at her but sliding his spatula beneath a hamburger and giving it a flip.

“You’re a sponsor today?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. Just because I own a bar—I’m assuming that’s your problem—doesn’t mean I don’t have a conscience. The people of this community support my business. I support them.”

Kendra opened her lips but she didn’t say anything.

“Why is it you’re so against the bar anyway? I run a decent place.”

“Most of the people you serve would be better off staying home with their families for a night or two,” she replied, “instead of getting drunk and getting into fights or getting behind the wheel.”

“Lord, aren’t we all high and mighty and full of judgments today,” he said irritably, wishing now she’d never come over to the food tent. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish cooking these and then go do my civic duty. Maybe you should go do yours before I say something I’m really going to regret.” He looked her in the eye. “After all, I wouldn’t want to piss you off. I could get into trouble.”

Her cheeks blossomed with a bit of color before she turned and walked away.

Damn her. He scowled as he finished turning the patties and put the cover back down on the grill. For a few moments the other morning, as they’d eaten breakfast, he’d thought maybe the animosity she seemed to feel for him had faded. He remembered her smiling as she bit into the crispy bacon, the way it had almost felt friendly. He would rather it was, to be honest. He didn’t have many friends in town. Business acquaintances, of course. But many of his old friends were gone, and at times it was awkward with the ones who had remained. There were a lot of differences to being on the other side of the bar—including knowing when to stop serving and call someone a cab. That wasn’t always a popular move when it was an old buddy who’d reached his limit.

He wondered why she was so against his pub and against him. He got the feeling it had little to do with the incident a few years back. That had been embarrassing but nothing worth holding a grudge about. His lips twitched a little thinking about it. He might have been foolish, but he remembered every moment of that night. And he remembered propositioning her from the back seat of her police car, with his hands in cuffs and the button of his jeans still undone.

Sad thing was, he’d had the same thoughts just a few days ago.

And he’d been completely sober.

Kendra wandered through the park, pasting on a smile and chatting to people, but her mind stuck on Jake. He was absolutely right. She didn’t like his business. She wished she could say she didn’t like him either. But the truth was she was being judgmental. She might not like what he did for a living, but that didn’t give her reason to be nasty about it. To make it personal.

So why was it? It wasn’t like they were old friends. It wasn’t like they had any history at all. He was the hometown boy and she was the outsider who had moved in and made her home here.

If she could call it a home.

She paused by an oak tree, taking advantage of the shade, feeling slightly jealous of Jake as he took to the small makeshift stage in his board shorts and flip-flops—so much more casual and comfortable than her damned uniform.

She hadn’t realized he was a sponsor today. Seeing him manning the grill was one thing—though volunteering his time for charity was a surprise, it was quite something else to sponsor, giving not only time but money as well. Perhaps she owed Jake an apology. With a ready smile, he thanked people for coming and made a presentation of food goods and cash to the organization’s chair. He drew for donated prizes too, and one that he’d donated himself—a gigantic gift basket filled with local gourmet products as well as a gift certificate for dinner at the pub.

He was acting like an upstanding member of the community. Perhaps it was time she started treating him like one.

The only problem was she couldn’t get past her prejudice about the bar. And that was something so deep-seated, so ingrained, that she wasn’t sure she’d ever get past it. She’d seen what it could do, and it scared the hell out of her.

The afternoon was waning when she heard a shout go up from the games area. Curious, she wandered over that way and found a group surrounding the dunking booth. The local school principal came out sopping wet and made room for the next victim. Kendra smiled and clasped her hands behind her back, relaxing and enjoying the sound of laughter. She wondered who they’d put up there next.

She didn’t have to wait long. There was more giggling, and then she saw Jake take a precarious seat in the top of the tank.

Kendra squeezed her fingers together. Did she dare? There was always the chance she’d miss the button and the lever wouldn’t drop.

But there was the chance she would hit it and it was oh-so tempting. For a few minutes she watched some teens line up and take aim. One came close to hitting the edge of the button, but didn’t quite make it. Jake leaned back a little, put his hands behind his head and preened.