Just Kidding (SWAT Generation 2.0 1)

He grinned widely at me, then picked me up and twirled me around.

I didn’t even care that it made me dizzy or that my head was now throbbing a little bit harder.

Because seeing that smile on my man’s face?

Worth every single ounce of nausea that was coming my way.

I’d do anything—endure whatever pain I needed to—to see him smile.EpilogueI’m returning your nose. I found it in my business.

-Text from Rowen to Derek

Dax

“Hey,” I rumbled, sounding just as tired as I felt. “You eaten yet?”

There was a long silent pause, then the sound of chewing.

“Yes,” Rowen paused. “Was I not supposed to?”

I grinned weakly.

“No, you’re allowed to eat,” I corrected her. “I just wanted to make sure that you did. What are you eating?”

There was a long pause while I assumed she was swallowing, then she said, “A sandwich. I got too hungry to wait.”

That was okay.

She was seven months pregnant with my child.

I didn’t want her to wait.

I wanted her to eat when she needed to.

And, seeing as it was about five hours past when we were supposed to meet to get dinner, I didn’t blame her for not being able to wait.

“Why don’t you go get us a drink?” she suggested.

I would, had I not been tired as hell.

“I’m tired,” I admitted.

She sighed. “Okay.”

I frowned at the way the main road in Kilgore was so backed up.

“What’s the fuckin’ hold-up?” I muttered.

There had to be at least twenty cars in front of me holding up the turn lane.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I said.” I paused as I crept forward just a little bit more. “I was asking what the hold-up was to the person in front of me. The light’s backed up wayyyyy past where it normally is.” I narrowed my eyes as once again the light allowed two people through then turned red again. “The light’s fucked up and is only letting two people through before it turns red again. That’s what the hold-up is.”

“You should’ve gone the back way,” she teased.

I rolled my eyes.

The ‘back way’ was actually a cut through that really was only a shopping center parking lot so you could skip the light.

“That’s illegal,” I reminded her. “Remember?”

She scoffed delicately.

“The parking lots wouldn’t be connected if they didn’t want you to hop through them,” she corrected me. “And how is it illegal when I’m just cutting through the parking lot to look at a few cars?”

The line crept forward once again, this time allowing three people through.

Jesus Christ.

I groaned and slammed my hand down on the steering wheel. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” she said. “I love you.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby,” I murmured, watching as once again the light turned green and allowed three people through.

Son of a bitch.

Pulling up my radio, I made a call to dispatch, then once again waited for the light.

This time I made it.

I only had to run the red light to do it, though.

And as I got closer to our favorite deli, I remembered her asking for a tea.

Swinging in there, I ordered our teas, then ordered a sandwich.

I thought better of it before I left, though, and went back for two chocolate chip cookies.

“Thank you, Edna,” I said to the woman behind the counter.

She waved at me and I went on my way, heading home.

Finally arriving to the place that Rowen and I had purchased together a couple of weeks after I asked her to marry me, I took a good look around.

The yard needed weed-whacked.

Bad.

But I could tell that it’d been mowed.

Telling myself not to get too upset when I knew damn well and good that it wasn’t the neighbor that did it again, I walked inside with my bag of spoils.

I found my woman at the counter chopping up an avocado.

She had two large sandwiches made with everything I wanted on them, a pitcher of tea made sitting next to it, and cookies cooling on the counter.

My heart fell.

“Shit,” I said as I saw all the work she’d done. “I’m sorry, I thought…”

She turned and found the bag of food in one hand, the teas in the other, and her face fell.

“It’s okay,” she said as she gathered the sandwich meat and spreads up. “They’ll keep.”

We both knew that they wouldn’t.

And nobody, not even the dog we got last month, would eat it either.

I didn’t eat old sandwiches because it was inevitable that they’d be soggy. And Rowen didn’t like mustard.

Meaning those sandwiches she’d made, with goddamn bacon even, would go to waste.

I looked at the sandwich in my hand and considered throwing it out, but she stopped me with a firm, “Don’t you dare.”

I looked up to see her arms crossed tightly over her chest, forearms resting on her distended belly.

I placed the food on the counter, then walked to my wife and pulled her into my arms.