Joke's on You (SWAT Generation 2.0 6)

“Thanks,” Booth said as he closed the pizza boxes.

Bourne snagged one more piece before he gestured for his brother to finish closing it.

I rolled my eyes again.

He’d already eaten five slices.

Where did the man put it all?

“You’re welcome,” I said as my fingers adjusted the strap of my purse to rest flatly between my breasts. “How did…” I didn’t say ‘the call’ but barely.

Once again my eyes drifted down his chest.

The holes that were there were confusing me.

I mean, you couldn’t see them all that well, but you could see them enough that it was concerning to me.

“What is that?” I asked.

But before I could answer, his phone made a strange, coughing, broken sound.

He sighed. “I have to get back to the station. I didn’t really have the time to stop by and bring lunch, but I didn’t want him to go hungry.”

My lips quirked. “You could’ve read your text messages and saved yourself the trip.”

His turn to roll his eyes.

“Something happened to it,” he hedged. “Screen’s completely shattered.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t.

“You want to take this home?” he asked. “If you don’t, it’ll just go to waste in the car. I don’t have time to go by the house and put it in the fridge.”

Bourne walked away to go talk to the secretary that worked the office, and I eyed the pizza like it was going to jump out and bite me.

“I really shouldn’t,” I admitted. “I’m…”

I refrained from telling him I was on a diet.

He really didn’t need to know.

“You’re not gonna take Moe’s pizza?” he asked in surprise.

He knew that I liked it.

Everyone knew that I liked it.

I sighed. “I’m on a diet.”

He froze, his brows pinched. “What?”

I shrugged helplessly, heading for the front door and pushing through.

“I’m working on a new me,” I said. “That means no more sampling the merchandise, and no more Moe’s pizza.”

He walked with me as I made it out to my car, and looked at me oddly.

“Why do you need to diet at all?” he pushed.

I resisted the urge to grab my belly fat and present it to him.

“I’m…” I paused. “I’m overweight, Booth. It’s just the way it is. I need to lose weight.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Bourne ran up and snagged the pizza boxes from Booth’s hands and practically shoved them into mine.

“The suspect is talking,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Booth looked torn, but in the end, he chose to give me a nod, then hurried back to his police cruiser.

It was only later, as I was watching the five o’clock news after spending hours with the dogs, that I saw what all had happened at the mall.

“Reports show that an armed shooter had barricaded herself in the women’s changing room after her husband was caught cheating with his lover,” the newscaster spoke. “After negotiations, the woman was apprehended. But not before she fired shots at a SWAT officer.”

Fired shots.

At a SWAT officer.

Fired shots at a SWAT officer.

Son of a bitch!Chapter 3

If it isn’t broke, I can fix that.

-Dillan’s secret thoughts

Dillan

I wasn’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second I was in my living room, looking at the television without fully comprehending what I was seeing. And the next I was in my car, driving to Booth’s house.

I’d made the drive hundreds of times before. I’d picked Asa up a lot.

A whole lot more than I probably should have.

Things between Delanie and Booth weren’t awkward, per se, but they definitely weren’t easy. And I had a feeling that had a lot to do with Booth living right next door to Bourne, and Bourne being at Booth’s house, or vice versa, quite a bit. Meaning that Delanie would have to see Bourne, and Delanie, unlike me, liked to avoid it if she could.

See, whereas she avoided confrontation like the plague, I didn’t. I looked for it. Sought it out.

Which likely was why I was currently pulling into Booth’s driveway instead of getting ready for bed like I should be.

After getting out and practically running up Booth’s front walk, I knocked quietly on his door and waited impatiently for him to answer.

I’m honestly not sure what I expected, but for him to answer the door in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else definitely wasn’t it.

At first, my eyes were drawn to the lower part of his belly where the waistband of his pants rode.

Low.

Oh, so low.

I could see dark hair that extended from his belly button all the way into his pants.

Then there were the deep muscled valleys that formed the V that rode down the length of his groin, also disappearing into his pants.

And the bulge of his pants? Yeah, we wouldn’t focus on that too hard.

Forcing myself to lift my eyes, I once again moved them past his lower abs, but stalled out at the large, black circular bruise that was right below his left ribcage.