However, seeing the greedy woman’s eyes at the front that hadn’t done a thing the entire time we’d been here had me gathering the cash and shoving it into my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Nico asked as we started walking out.
“Girl at the counter’s looking kinda greedy. I’ll give it to her when I get home tonight,” I said as I shoved it all in my pocket.
As we were leaving, I saw Memphis sitting on the car that was normally in the parking lot of our apartment building when I got home from work.
I actually thought it didn’t work, so it was a surprise to see it out of its spot. As well as having a hot little woman on it laying back against the glass as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
She was still in her armor.
Today she was wearing black shorts that came to a stop just under her knees, a royal blue shirt that said The Angry Goose on it¸ and hot pink Toms.
Her hair was down today. Long and silky down to her lower back.
She was wearing a pair of sunglasses over her eyes, but I knew they were on me the moment I got out to the parking lot.
I walked to my truck, keeping my eyes on the lot in front of me, every cell in my body very much aware of the cute little oriental girl trying her damndest to keep her own off of me.
Oh, this would be fun.***Six hours later I found myself just getting home.
Miller and Foster had gone straight home, but I’d gone to meet my contractor who’d agreed to come later in the day.
Luckily, the ‘hold-off’ that’d been suspected had actually been a man holding a woman hostage with a sausage.
Yes, you heard correctly. A sausage.
After James, the sniper on the SWAT team, let us know what it was, the rest of the op was easy.
We went in, arrested the suspect, ridiculously easily, and got home within an hour.
That was the majority of SWAT calls. But there were always the ones that weren’t stupid, like being held at ‘gun point’ not with a sausage. There were ones that could literally mean life or death.
Death of yourself. Death of another living being, a person.
That’s what I loved about SWAT, though.
Unpredictability.
It was what I wanted to do…who I wanted to be.
I made it up the stairs to find the hallway dark still.
Mocha’s claws clicked on the wooden floor underneath our feet, and kept clicking even after I stopped at our door.
She didn’t go far, though, stopping about halfway between my place and my neighbor’s place.
“Kind of weird to be hanging out in a darkened hallway,” I mused as I put the key into the door on the first try.
“You jipped me a tip today,” Memphis said from the darkness. “In fact, it was two tips.”
I snorted and pushed the door open, hitting the lights just inside the door.
The lone light hanging in the entranceway burned bright, illuminating a small part of the hallway, and only the tips of Memphis’ boots.
I turned and studied what I could see of her.
She wasn’t in the same clothes she’d been wearing earlier at the diner, but a pair of worn looking jeans, a long sleeved white t-shirt, and boots.
“Do you ever wear comfortable pants?” I asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest, and though I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was glaring at me.
The woman was good at glaring.
“Yes. When I’m at home,” she conceded.
I shook my head. “You are at home.”
“True, but I’m not inside my home. I was going to go for a walk,” she explained.
“How old are you? You act like you’re some fifty year old prude,” I said in exasperation.
She smiled. “Twenty.”
I blinked. Twenty?
What the fuck?
My dick was hot for a twenty-fucking year old?
What the fuck?
I really needed to get my head on straight. Jesus, I was fourteen years older than her.
I should be stepping far, far away from her. Not encouraging this.
But God did I want her.
I couldn’t help myself.
I took my keys and shoved them back in my pocket, waving at Miller who was on my couch, and closed the door. “Let’s do it.”
“Let’s do what?” She asked.
I found her hand in the darkness and urged her towards the stairs.
“Why are you going on a walk in the middle of the night?” I asked.
I could hear her boots click on each step, the dogs’ collars jingle, and the slightly elevated breathing of not just Memphis, but me as well.
“It’s eleven o’clock. Not the middle of the night. And we live in an apartment; I can’t just let Peter outside to do his business by himself. Not with how everyone’s dogs are disappearing lately,” she explained
I agreed.
She’d never get the dog back. There’d been a rash of dog thefts lately. Especially, the bigger ones. “No, I don’t think it’d be a good idea,” I agreed.
“Did you have anything to do with the investigation into the humane society’s break in last week?” She asked as we stepped outside.
I shook my head. “No. I’m not a detective. Although, I’ve been asked to patrol the area a little more heavily while I’m on watch.”
She hummed in understanding. “That’s the way my father is, too. I ask him how such and such investigation is and he shrugs. He just says, ‘Baby, I’m not a detective. That’s not in my job description.’”
I looked at her sharply. “Your dad is a cop?”
She nodded. “Yes. He’s in Alabama, though. Mooresville, to be exact.”
I was surprised, to be honest. The ‘fuck the cops’ vibe she’d been giving off during the class the other day must’ve just been special for me. How nice of her.
“How long has he been a cop?” I asked.
“Years. I think he gets his forty year pin next year.” She pursed her lips. “Or maybe the year after. I can’t really tell you, to be truthful.”
I nodded. “They all seem to bleed from one year to the next once you’ve been doing it that long. Does he just not want to move up to detective or something?”