Beneath the Badge (First Responders 4)

She gave a half-smile. “I have vodka. Will that do?”

He gave a short nod. “I’ll follow you.”

She turned to go back to her car but he caught her hand. She turned back, their fingers linked between them, while her heart did a queer jump against her ribs. He’d called her the answer to a prayer. Could it really be that simple?

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Anytime,” she replied, the answer light but their eyes clung together and something shifted and changed and moved a place deep inside that she hadn’t known even existed. What she felt for Matt was more than attraction. More than empathy for what he’d been through.

She rather suspected it was love.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers, not wanting to let go but knowing she had to so they could go somewhere more private. She slid her hand out of his and bit down on her lip.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promised.

She watched him stride away, her big tough cop who made her feel all the things she’d shut down years ago. But as she watched him straighten his shoulders she understood that in addition to the bad he also reminded her that there were good things that she’d closed herself away from. Things like love and sharing. How good it felt to give rather than just exist. Up until now she’d reserved th

at part of herself for her job and the furry kind of love that never let her down. It wasn’t enough anymore.

She wanted everything.

Chapter Eight

She pulled in the driveway first and he was right behind her. There was an awkward moment when they first went inside and were enveloped in silence. Lindsay turned around and nervously tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. It was a strange thing, realizing you were in love with someone and not quite knowing where to go next. It was definitely unchartered territory.

Moment to moment was probably the best plan when all was said and done.

“Let’s get you out of this heavy stuff,” she said quietly. She reached out and unhooked his belt. It was surprisingly heavy in her hands. She stood for a moment, wondering where to put it, then decided the kitchen was as good as any. It was close to the vodka, after all.

She put it down on an empty counter. Matt had taken off his cap and he placed it carefully beside the belt. Lindsay reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning it. He halted her progress, putting his hand over hers and she looked up. “Just to get your vest off,” she murmured. “You might want to lose the boots too.”

He let her slide the shirt over his shoulders and it gaped at his waist, still tucked in at the back. He undid the vest then, pulled it off and put it on top of the other gear. She had the random thought that it must be incredibly hot in the summer to wear all that stuff. She had to admit it turned her on more than a little. She was a fully capable, grown woman. But the idea of having this man as a protector was hot as hell.

“What do you need?” she asked softly, her hand pressed against the warm material of his T-shirt.

He pulled out the tails of his dress shirt and draped the material over a chair. “I wouldn’t say no to that drink.”

Wordlessly, she went to the cupboard and took out a bottle, then to the fridge for a can of tonic water. She poured a healthy shot into a glass and topped it up with the tonic as he removed his boots. When she handed the drink to him she offered a wry smile. “I didn’t think straight up would be the wisest choice.”

“You’re probably right,” he conceded. He took a healthy gulp of the liquid and she saw his eyes widen slightly. She hadn’t been stingy. “That’s good,” he said, letting out a breath. She saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“Have you eaten today?”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Hah,” she said, sending a pointed look at his glass. “I know I mixed it with tonic, but vodka on an empty and stressed stomach is not a good idea.” Inspiration struck and she smiled. “I’m going to fix the ultimate comfort food and it’ll only take five minutes, tops.”

He sat at the table nursing his drink as she banged around the kitchen, relieved to have something to do with her hands. Mr. Boots put in a rare appearance, giving Matt a wide berth but jumping up on his cat tree, curling into a ball on one carpeted shelf. Lindsay glanced over at Matt. The tension rippling off him was crazy and he needed to decompress before they talked about anything. She took out bread, butter and cheese and set about building them grilled-cheese sandwiches.

In no time at all, she turned the first golden sandwich onto a plate. “The secret is using real butter and then good cheese. I like sharp cheddar for taste, but then add a thin shave of mozzarella for stringiness. Guaranteed to cure what ails you.”

It was a glib statement and one not meant too seriously. If grilled cheese could fix all that ailed the world, men like Matt would be out of a job.

She fried her own while Matt bit into his. When hers was up she looked and his plate was empty. “You want another?”

“Do you mind? I didn’t eat lunch and didn’t feel like eating…you know. After.”

“Of course I don’t mind. It’s grilled cheese, not coq au vin.”