Hide Your Crazy (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 1)

She snickered. “Your pacing is really loud. You should try doing it barefoot and it might make it better. Also, remember that your layout is the same as mine. If you were to do your walking in the living room and kitchen, it wouldn’t bother me. I sleep with a fan on.”

“Anyway, do you miss your ex-boyfriend?” I asked. “Wish that you’d have stayed with him?”

She shook her head. “No. It was time. We’d never really had that ‘lasting’ sort of relationship. I know that some people can have a relationship that lasts with their first loves, but we weren’t one of them. I think that we both knew that. I had no hard feelings for him at all after we broke up, either.” She wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, I feel the worst for his fiancée. Every time I see her, I want to cry just because she looks so sad.”

That was because Katy was a good person.

The other question was, why did I care that she still cared about a missing man?

I shouldn’t.

Really, I shouldn’t.

But I did.

A lot.

I also cared quite a bit that she had dinner with her ex.

Her ex that still obviously had feelings for Katy, that Katy assured me she didn’t reciprocate.

Why did that make me deliriously happy?

“I’m hungry,” I murmured as I watched the dogs stop to drink out of a mud puddle.

“You should’ve stayed for dinner,” she snickered.

I unconsciously clenched my hand, then shook my head.

“That wouldn’t have gone over well,” I admitted. “Plus, though your dad said I could stay, I knew he didn’t really want me there.”

“There’s more to the story of why he doesn’t like you, isn’t there?” she asked.

I snickered.

“I might or might not have beaten his range score as a rookie,” I admitted. “Then teased him about it relentlessly for the first two weeks I saw him. Though, saying that, I didn’t realize that the man helping out with our class was the chief of police. Nobody did until the class was over and he offered us jobs. I swear to Christ, when he offered me his hand and the job offer, I thought he was going to choke on it.”

She let her head fall back and she laughed.

God, she was beautiful when she laughed.

“It’s nice to finally see someone that doesn’t kiss my dad’s ass, to be honest.” She sighed, then leaned forward and caught the stick that Lou tried to deposit in my lap. Tossing it as far as she could, which admittedly wasn’t that far, she crossed her legs and said, “Dad needs to be taken out of his comfort zone every once in a while.”

My stomach let out a grumble, letting us both know just how hungry I was, and she stood up.

“I have leftovers in my fridge,” she said. “You can have those for dinner.”

The thought of that delectable smelling lasagna, even hours after it’d been cooked, sounded like heaven to me.

Being in her house, eating it with her? That sounded even better.

“Sounds like something I’m willing to get behind,” I said as I whistled.

Sister came running, as did Lou. Though, I had a feeling that the only reason Lou did was because Sister did.

“Did you really need to allow Sister to visit with your ex-wife?” she asked as she picked up the leashes.

Once they were both leashed, I opened both gates for her and waited until she was outside of them before answering.

“Yes,” I answered. “Though, I knew she wouldn’t show. The one time I don’t show, though, she ends up coming. Then tells the court that I refused to follow the letter of our agreement. Which is a pain in the ass.”

“Your ex-wife sounds like a real peach,” she said. “One day you’ll tell me about her?”

I was about to answer when a familiar woman with flaming red hair, hips that went on for days, and a perpetual bad attitude came barreling down the stairs that led to our apartment with a toddler on her hip.

“It’s about fuckin’ time!” the woman bellowed.

“Tasia,” I said, sounding just as excited as I felt. “Our appointment was at four.”

“Our appointment will have to be now because I’m here,” she said. “I drove all the way here, clear across town, so I could spend time with Sissy.”

“Sister,” I corrected her automatically.

When Sister was young, just a puppy, we’d fought over what her name should be. In the end, I’d won, but every once in a while Tasia liked to give me shit by calling her Sissy.

My eyes went to the toddler that looked so much like my best friend—ex-best friend—that it hurt.

“Who is this?” Tasia asked, sneering at Katy.

I looked at Katy, who was well aware that something wasn’t right, and said, “Katy, this is Tasia. My ex-wife. Tasia, this is Katy.”

Tasia sneered at Katy. “I’d say it was nice to meet you, but that would be a lie.”