In the Line of Duty (First Responders 2)

“I don’t know, Jake.”

“Gabe and Carly are with me. But we need a fourth to make a team.”

“I don’t golf.”

“I’ll teach you. It’s Texas Scramble anyway, best ball off the tee. You’ll be fine.”

She turned away, holding the paper tightly in her fingers. The damnable thing was that she wanted to go. She liked Gabe. He was a good paramedic and Carly seemed sweet and nice. But it would look like a couple’s outing.

“I’ll have to check my schedule.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Kendra Givens, you are a liar. You know your schedule from now until the end of September.”

He was right. She did. It irked her that he already knew her so well.

“If you don’t want to go, just say so.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” She handed the paper back to him. “It’s just that Gabe and Carly are engaged, and if I go with you it’ll look like…well, like we’re together.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

Would it? She wondered how it would appear to her coworkers, but if she were being honest with herself none of them had a problem with Jake. Hell, it wasn’t uncommon for the guys to stop off for an after-work drink and a basket of wings.

No, the problem was hers. And lately she was having a harder time coming up with excuses as to why Jake was so very bad. Especially now that she knew about Khaterah.

“I’ll think about it,” she prevaricated. “I was just having a sandwich. You want one?”

She turned her back and went to the counter to get her plate. Jake shut the door behind him. “I ate at the pub. It was Guinness Pie night.”

The dry turkey sandwich tasted bland next to the idea of beef smothered in gravy and topped with flaky pastry. She pushed the remaining pieces away.

He looked around her apartment. “Nice place. A little on the sparse side.”

She knew it wasn’t overly cozy. Even his place above the pub had some homey touches—a family picture on the coffee table, a homemade quilt on the arm of a chair. Kendra’s place was functional, she knew that. She’d never learned how to make a home even though she’d always wanted one. They had moved so often that it had seemed pointless. Besides, making it their own would have meant getting attached, and keeping things easy and bare had become a form of self-preservation.

“I work, I sleep,” she answered.

“And work out.” He nodded towards the corner of the living room that was set up with a weight bench, the racks of dumbbells against the wall. Her yoga mat was rolled up again.

“That too.” Uncomfortable with his assessment, she gave her shoulder a shrug. “Was the golf tournament all you wanted?”

He stared at her for such a long moment she started to squirm on the inside, even though she kept her outer body calm. “I thought we were going to keep this friendly,” he said, putting his hands in his jeans pockets.

This was friendly—for her. He probably didn’t realize she’d never entertained here, never had people over. She always kept to herself.

“I’m sorry,” she answered, going back into the kitchen and keeping her hands busy by scraping the rest of her sandwich into the compost bin. “You took me by surprise, Jake, and I’m not very good at this.”

“Good at what?”

Good at pretending. Good at trying to be blasé and all platonic when what she really wanted was to kiss him again and see if he tasted like she remembered. She dropped the plate into the sink a little loudly.

“Any of this, actually. The after stuff. I’ve never had to do it before.”

“Never?”

It was all coming out wrong. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

He laughed. “It’s kind of cute seeing you all flustered. You’re usually in control.”