In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

His cocky attitude was enough to make up her mind. Casually, she sauntered forward, dug into her pocket for the dollar it cost for three chances and tossed the first ball up and down in her hand. She looked at Jake and grinned.

His smile widened and he spread his elbows wider, as if to say, “Go ahead, lady, take your best shot.”

“Get him, Constable Givens!” A boy of about twelve sent up the first cheer as she weighed the ball in her hand. A crowd was gathering now, and she wiggled her eyebrows at Jake. He didn’t look the least bit worried.

She planted her feet, drew back and let the first ball go.

It just missed the button, hitting the booth a little to the left of the trigger with a hollow metal sound. A chorus of disappointment went through the crowd, but she took her next ball and turned it over in her hands.

Jake sat up, raised his hand and yawned. Then he laughed.

She couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. Lord, but he was a cheeky one. She’d be the last one laughing. Had to be. There was a certain amount of pride at stake, especially after his harsh dismissal of her earlier.

She pulled her shoulder back, stepped into it and missed again, overcorrecting and hitting slightly right.

“Come on, Givens. Your aim’s a little off,” he called out, and the crowd laughed. “I hope you shoot better than you throw!”

This time she didn’t hesitate or think. She grabbed the third ball, curled her fingertips along the curved stitching and let it rip.

Bull’s-eye.

There was a moment of surprise where his face completely blanked, and then a splash as he hit the water. Kendra couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up and out of her mouth. The crowd joined in, clapping and cheering as Jake stood up, his face dripping, his T-shirt sopping wet and clinging to his broad shoulders and chest.

All in all, he looked pretty damn good when he was wet. And she’d salvaged her pride. A good afternoon’s work, to her mind.

“I’ll get you for that,” he warned loudly, running a hand over his hair before resuming the seat.

“Careful, Jake,” someone called out. “She’ll have you up on uttering threats or something.”

He looked down at her, affecting a scowl, but he couldn’t maintain it. He laughed and then sent her a wink. It should have been silly. Instead it was sexy as hell.

Then someone else stepped up to the line and paid their dollar, and Kendra walked away.

She stayed a while longer, but as she was walking back to her car Jake’s voice sounded behind her. “Hey, Givens. Wait up.”

It made no sense that the sound of his voice—strong and soft at the same time—sent her stomach swirling. She turned around and saw him jogging up to her, a can of pop in his hand. His light shirt was still damp from his dunking, and she could see a hint of his skin and the outline of his muscles through the fabric. Maybe Jake wasn’t in the army anymore, but he hadn’t lost any of his physique, had he?

“Here,” he said, holding out the can. “For having to stand around in the heat all afternoon. Courtesy of Jake’s Pub, if you’re not too proud to take it.”

She took the can from his hand and their fingers touched ever so briefly. Her cheeks were already flushed from the sun, so she hoped the blush she felt didn’t show. The can was sweating and the cool liquid felt wonderful on her hand. “Thanks,” she replied.

He fell in step beside her. “Nice arm, by the way.”

“You weren’t expecting that, were you?” She laughed softly.

“No, I wasn’t. Where’d you learn to throw like that?”

She looked over at him. “I played competitive ball for a while. Even made the Canada Games team. Catcher. I could nail second from a squat.”

“You’re full of surprises, Givens.”

A warm curl of pleasure wound its way through her. “You have no idea, Symonds.” He’d been a good sport too. She hadn’t exactly been fair in her assessment of him, she realized. So far he’d made her breakfast, been cooperative, cooked hamburgers for charity and allowed himself to be publicly humiliated for the same cause. “I’m sorry about earlier,” she said. It had been easier to say than she expected. “I know you think it’s personal, but it’s truly not, Jake.”

He sighed. “Well, maybe it is, but it’s about you and not me. I’m smart enough to figure that out.”

Alarm jolted through her. How could he possibly see that? She’d never breathed a syllable to lead him to that conclusion, had she? But he was right. It was personal. She’d seen alcohol destroy first her family and then countless others. It was impossible to ignore that he played a role in that simply by owning the kind of business he did.

“Are you looking for me to tell you you’re right?” She forced a smile, trying to lighten things up. “It’ll never happen.”