7 Months (Time for Love 8)

He didn’t say anything else…

“Grrrr,” I growled under my breath, clenching my fists as I walked back to my chair.

That man could frustrate a saint, and I’d never be a saint.

Chapter Thirteen ~ Brady

“Everything okay?” Doobie asked when I got back into the car.

“I guess,” I replied, wondering how I’d managed to screw everything up so terribly in the span of a few seconds.

This was why I didn’t talk … I always managed to say the wrong thing. And Ming had taken what I said at face value and jumped in my shit. Quick.

Hell, I’d never seen her react like that before … It was kinda hot.

Unfortunately, that douche in a suit came in at the wrong time and I hadn’t gotten a chance to explain to Ming what I’d really meant … Not that I thought she wouldn’t take Nat’s case, but because I’d worried she’d feel awkward because of me. Because she’d broken things off and obviously didn’t want to be around me. Still, I’d wanted to prove I was man enough to go in there and talk to her, and I hoped we’d still be able to be friendly.

But she’d been cool as ice. All business, not acting at all like we’d ever had a relationship, let alone that she’d been hurt when it ended.

Then she went and took the suit up on his offer for drinks. I didn’t know what the hell I was feeling about that; I just knew it wasn’t good.

“Is the lawyer you went to meet with gonna take the case?” Doobie asked, pulling me from my annoying thoughts.

“Uh, yeah, she’s going to.” I looked at my partner, then thought about what Brendan had said, and asked, “Hey, uh, Ty, can I ask you a question?”

I saw his head swing toward me and caught a glimpse of surprise before he covered it and said jovially, “I’d be ecstatic if you asked me a question.”

“Am I a hard guy to get to know?”

After a few minutes of laughing hysterically, Doobie turned to me and asked, “Is the pope Catholic?”

When he saw I was serious, he said, “Let me put it to you this way … we’ve known each other for over seven months now. I know you have brothers who are married, because they’ve stopped by the station. I know you’re in a band, but I’ve never seen you play. I know you’re a good cop, and a great partner, who willingly does paperwork … but that’s about it.”

I thought about what he said, and knew it was true. I’d never invited him to one of the bazillion get-togethers my brothers and their friends had. I didn’t open up about my past or my life. And other than grabbing drinks sometimes after work, we didn’t hang out off the clock. Not because Doobie had never asked, but because I always made an excuse as to why I couldn’t.

“In seven months you’ve never asked me where I’m from or about my family. I get it, not all guys like sharing stuff, and maybe you aren’t looking for any new friends, but it would make the day go by a lot quicker if we shot the shit every once in a while.”

Shit, I thought once he turned his attention back to the road, I really am a first-class dick.

“I know you’re from Louisiana,” I started, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “New Orleans, right?”

“That’s right, cher,” he answered, speaking in an over-exaggerated Cajun accent. “Best city in the world.”

“Do you, uh, still have family there?”

Doobie chuckled at my obvious discomfort and said, “Yeah, my parents and my two younger sisters.”

“Do you miss it?” I asked. The longest I’d been away from my family had been while I attended the academy, and I hated it. Brendan had traveled to Europe and worked there for a while, but I’d never had any desire to leave home. I couldn’t imagine taking a job in a different city, let alone a different state.

Doobie nodded, seeming lost in thought as he replied, “Every day. I figure I’ll put in my time here, gain some experience, then move back home.”

“Yeah?” I asked, surprised to realize that I’d miss him if he left. We’d been in this together since the beginning, and I’d never thought what it would be like if I had a different partner.

“Yeah, but don’t get worked up,” he joked. “I won’t be leaving you any time soon.”

I’d reached my limit of conversation for the day, so the rest of the drive back to the station was quiet, but before we left for the night I asked him, “Do you play poker?”

“Yeah, why?” Doobie asked, pushing his dark-blond hair off of his forehead as he put on a baseball cap. He’d changed out of his uniform and was about to head to the gym.