In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

For a few minutes, they busied themselves filling plates. The tomato basil topping was fresh and the baguette slices perfectly toasted. He’d carved thick slices of chicken breast and the pasta salad was tossed with vegetables, feta and a pesto vinaigrette. “You’ll make someone a good wife someday, Jake,” she commented, taking the first delicious bite.

“I doubt it. Marriage isn’t really for me, I don’t think.”

She scooped some tomato onto the bread. “What makes you say that?” She looked up, curious. “You surprised me the other day, talking about closing on Sundays and learning to cook. Clearly you care about family, Jake.”

“And that’s a shock?” He was cutting into his chicken, but he put down his knife and fork as he waited for her answer.

“Frankly, it is a bit. What prompts a guy who wants to open a business to choose a pub of all things?”

“You have a real thing about alcohol, don’t you?” He narrowed his eyes and looked at the picnic basket. “The wine…you don’t drink.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why?”

“Well, shucks, mister…” She let the words hang, knowing he’d get her message.

“Touché,” he replied, picking up his utensils again. “You don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine.”

She picked up her plastic glass and took a big gulp of iced tea, hoping to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth.

“About the pub,” he said. “I spent a lot of time at the bars.”

“Really,” she said dryly.

He smiled. “Too much time, as I think we can both agree. But all that energy had to go somewhere. And sometimes sitting in a bar with my buddies was the only way to get through what I had to go through, you know? It wasn’t about getting hammered and acting like a jerk. It’s bigger than that.”

He paused. “But I saw what could happen in rougher places, and I wanted to open a place at home where people could come and enjoy an evening and be…safe.”

“That’s why I get calls about fights and drunks, right?” Surely he could see that what he was doing went against his purposes.

He put down his plate. “Kendra, you know as well as I do that if people want to drink, they’ll find a way. They’ll go to the bootlegger after hours. They’ll do it in their homes. They’ll find it where they can. At least at Jake’s we have a cut-off policy. We call cabs for people every night, or call for someone to pick people up. We take care to ID for underage drinkers and anyone out of line gets kicked out. There’s zero tolerance for drugs. I run a good place, Kendra, and a clean one. If you get calls it’s because we’re doing our job.”

“I can’t condone it, Jake. I’m sorry.”

“That’s up to you, of course. I just want you to think for a moment. Sometimes a person comes into the bar and they’ve had a rotten day. Rather than go home and take it out on their families, they stop in, have a beer, maybe a chat with a bartender. Maybe they get a smile from a waitress. And half an hour later they’re ready to go home without all the fireworks.”

“Are you trying to convince me you’re some sort of therapy service?”

“Of course not. But my clientele aren’t all alcoholics and wife beaters either. Though I’m guessing that might be your experience.”

Something froze inside her. He was too close. Way too close.

He held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to pry. Maybe I just wanted to say my piece.”

“Why does my opinion matter?”

He took a sip of tea. “It shouldn’t. But then there’s this…”

“This what?” Her heart started clubbing so loudly she could hear it in her ears over the cry of the seagulls.

“This…what happened in the water.”

Her appetite was suddenly the last thing on her mind. She was so confused. She wanted to believe him. It would be so much easier if she could loosen up and accept what he said. But it was hard. She’d struggled for so long. She’d carried hate around for so long it was a habit that was hard to let go.

“There’s something going on here,” he said. “I’m not sure what it is, but I can’t get it off my mind. I’ve tried. God knows, you’re not the easiest person I could find myself attracted to.”

Just like that, her blood pressure went zinging upward. He’d come right out and said it—he was attracted. The crazy thing was, she was too.