Then again, she always did that, and I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d ever done to deserve that behavior.
Honestly, being around her was a test for my patience.
She acted like I was going to throw her down on the ground and rape her if I got within five feet of her, and I wasn’t sure what in the hell to do to make her feel more comfortable around me.
It wasn’t like I really wanted to be as big and intimidating as I was.
I was just built strong and sturdy.
I was six foot five to her five foot one.
Honestly, if I thought hard enough, I could probably knock her backward with a well-placed burp.
She was cute.
As long as she wasn’t staring at me with fear in her eyes like she was doing right then.
Long, strawberry-blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and soft skin that had the most adorable freckles on it—I wanted her.
Which pissed me off because I was already seeing somebody—as was she.
The jerk currently standing behind her asking her if she was all right.
Speaking of the devil, my phone rang, and I grimaced as I pulled it out of my pocket.
“Hello?” I answered shortly.
“Why did you hang up on me like that?” Nivea asked. “Seriously, would it fucking hurt you at all to just say, ‘Nivea, I gotta go. Call you back in a sec?’”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m busy, Nivea.”
She growled in frustration, and I wanted to slam my phone onto the hood of my car until the phone stopped working and Nivea couldn’t bitch me out anymore today.
“Yes, I’m okay,” Camryn said to the man at her side.
The man who was placing himself between me and Camryn as if I was about to do something stupid like beat the shit out of her for running into me.
Instead, I hung up and switched the phone onto vibrate.
I gave it ten minutes tops, and then she’d be calling me back.
“What the hell was that?” Carver rounded on me. “Did you have to be so mean?”
I blinked, surprised to see the kid had a spine. Ninety-nine percent of the time he didn’t act like he did.
“I wasn’t being mean,” I disagreed. “I was pissed because she wouldn’t move her car and we had twenty-five people backed up behind us trying to get to work. If I hadn’t gotten her to move her car, that line would’ve only gotten longer. And then people start acting like dickheads because they’re late, and that’s when an accident happens.”
Carver narrowed his eyes, but Camryn’s hand on his arms stilled the words that were about to spill from his mouth.
“Carver, it’s okay,” she said softly, lifting her hand off his arm. “I’m fine. I was just startled. The dog scares me.”
I frowned.
The dog scared her?
The dog didn’t just ‘scare’ her. The dog terrified her. Which pissed me off even more because the dog, Dooley, was my K-9 partner. He was the sweetest thing ever, and wouldn’t harm a single hair on Camryn’s pretty little head.
But, every time I tried to explain that to Camryn, she only got even more scared.
Honestly, it was quite annoying.
Having her look at me like I was about to pull out my service weapon and blow her away was getting really fucking old.
“There’s no damage,” Carver said, surprising me.
I hadn’t seen nor heard him move, but that likely had to do with the fact that I was staring at Camryn’s shapely thighs rather than paying attention to what was going on around me.
“There’s yellow paint on my bumper,” I pointed out.
Carver snorted. “There’s paint, yes. There’s no damage body-wise, though.”
“No,” I agreed. “But unfortunately, I don’t get a choice in what I do or don’t report in my company vehicle. Not to mention everybody and their brother likely already knows what happened. You did this in front of the high school, where cheer and football practices are being held. Everybody already knows I’m sure.”
Carver sighed. “Speaking of which, we’re late.”
Camryn snorted. “I know that, Carver. How do you think I ended up behind this man anyway?”
She looked at me accusingly, and it took everything I had not to laugh.
Was she blaming me for being late?
Surely not.
“You’re not seriously blaming me for you being late, are you?” I asked neutrally.
“You were going slow as hell,” she said. “And it’s annoying. Especially when you slow everybody else down, too.”
My brows rose. “You think it’s a bad thing that I go the speed limit?”
“The speed limit is forty through here. You were going thirty-one. And don’t even get me started on the fact that you stopped at that light—slamming on your brakes to do it. You should’ve gone through it.”
“I should’ve gone through it?” I asked. “You should’ve been paying attention and controlling your speed.”
She snorted delicately. “If you say so, Officer.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I really don’t have a choice but to report this and write you a ticket.”