What If

The bakery is only five minutes from her apartment, and I already staked it out on my way here, making sure I know it’s safe and where the exits are. When I stop the truck behind the building, I’m aching from head to toe, wanting her again, but even though we’re early, there’s not enough time to do everything that’s on my mind.

“How do you feel?” I look over and place a hand on her warm cheek.

“About what?” She gives me a confused look.

“About last night. About this.” I nod at her then back at me. “I mean, last night was pretty intense. It happened fast. I want to know you’re okay. I want to know how you’re feeling about it all.”

“Well…” She smiles and tugs her knees together. “I’ll admit it was fast. I’ve never done anything like that before. I barely even kissed on a first date.”

“Good.” I bark out fast, then take a breath trying to calm myself. Any thought of her with anyone else—kissing or fucking doing anything else—puts me immediately on edge. “What else? Anything else you want to tell me about how you’re feeling? Because I want you to know I’m interested. In everything. All of you. This is strange, I’ll admit that, but Jessie, I’m all in. I want you to know that.”

She nods and takes a sip of her coffee. “I’ll admit, it’s hard to look at you and think you aren’t some sort of player. I mean, maybe it’s your schtick, taking girls up to your little garden and wooing them with your orchid story. I don’t know, right? You could just be very good at what you do.”

“I am very good at what I do.” I chuckle. “When it comes to my work. But what happened last night? I’m good at that because it felt right. I was telling you the truth when I said I’d never had anyone up there either to see the flowers and I’ve never had a woman in my apartment either. Pretty much, I work, work out, take care of the plants, sit in the bar a couple nights a week talking with guys I work with, I read, and I sleep. I know it probably sounds boring to you, but my work provides more than enough excitement. I like the rest of my life quiet and under control.”

I glance at the clock on the radio and see it’s 8:15. I want more time, but it’s important for her to fulfill her obligations, and I never want to be in the way of that. Besides, I’ve got a shit ton of work waiting for me today as well.

I’ve got a lead on a guy we’ve been trying to pin down for a couple of months. Tips from some informants on a guy who’d been using girls to move his product. Half my caseload is drug-related and I’ve got a good nose for sniffing out good leads, and this one feels legit to me.

“Well, I’m good at what I do, too.” She giggles. “I’m a decent writer, but I’m also a great baker. I’ve got a knack for doing decorative icing on cakes and things, and I have a custom basket weave cake to do today. It’s not as important as what you do—”

I cut her off. “Everything you do is important.” I move my hand around the back of her neck and squeeze slightly. “Everything.” I nod, and she smiles back.

“Well, I better go…”

“Yes. I don’t want you to be late. Tonight, I’ll pick you up at your place at six, okay? I have some work to do myself until then.”

I hop out of the truck, scramble around to open her door and help her down.

“Kiss me, then get to work,” I say, and my heart skips a beat when she pushes up on her tiptoes, and her lips meet mine.

At the precinct, I get to my desk and scroll through my emails, playing catch up with a few investigations I have going on.

My thoughts keep drifting to Jessie, and by ten o’clock I’m half out of my mind. No way I’m going to make it to six o’clock. This job is hard. I see the worst in humanity, but somehow today, just the thought of her makes things easier.

And parts of me harder because I’m not with her.

“Hey. I hear rumblings.” Gerald comes around the front of my desk and plops down in the worn wooden chair, and I hear it squeak under his weight.

“Oh yeah?” I answer, distracted, looking down at my phone and shooting Jessie a quick text, telling her that she’s on my mind and I’d love to see a picture of her smiling face.

“Yep. You’re on the short list.”

“That’s great,” I answer, staring at my screen, already waiting for her reply.