Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
"Please reset your GPS. We've lost signal."
He ignores me. Naturally. I swear to God, half the guys turn off their trackers on purpose just to annoy us. At least, I'm convinced this one did.
"Unit 232, do you copy?"
The door to dispatch clicks open behind me. I spin around, only to find him standing there with two coffee cups in hand, a sexy smirk stretched across his face.
He reaches for his radio, and I squeak.
"Don't you do it!"
He hits the button, that damn smirking growing.
I yank my headset off, scowling daggers at him as feedback squeals through the room from his radio and mine. The jerk.
"Dispatch, show me out at 2475 Broadway doing a property check," he practically purrs, humor dancing in his eyes. "I'll reset the GPS when I'm back at my unit."
"I hate you," I mutter.
He throws his head back, his deep laugh booming across the room.
I stomp on the foot pedal and then growl an acknowledgement into the mic situated on my console.
He takes pity on me and switches his radio off, killing the feedback loop.
"Did you come in here just to do that?" I ask.
"No. That was an unexpected bonus. I actually brought a peace offering." He holds up a cup of coffee. "I didn't even poison it."
I eye the cup suspiciously. "What did you do to it?"
"Bought it fresh and brought it to you?" He strolls toward me, the door to the room swinging closed behind him. "That a problem?"
"Depends on what you want while you're here."
His gray eyes rove across me, his expression heated in a way that makes my core clench. "Same thing I want every time I'm here, princess. You." He plunks the cup down on my console. "But since I have a feeling you aren't done torturing me yet…I'll settle for a conversation."
"Torturing you?" I bat my lashes at him. "Who me?"
He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls up a chair, settling into it. "You're fucking beautiful when you're giving me shit, Molly. But you're a terrible goddamn liar. We both know you've sent me on every wild goose chase and bullshit call that's come through this room for the last four weeks."
"Oh, a wild goose chase." I smile, lifting the cup to my lips. "Why didn't I think of that one?"
He narrows his eyes at me, his expression severe. "I chased a group of fucking goats down Broadway during morning rush hour. Every motherfucker in this town watched me do it. I'll be damned if I chase geese too, baby."
I meet his gaze, trying like hell not to laugh as I take a sip of coffee. It's perfect. How the heck does he know exactly how I like my coffee? "But you curse so eloquently when you're running from animals, Easton."
He jerks upright, splattering coffee on himself. I throw my head back, laughter burbling from my lips as his eyes fly wide open.
"That shady motherfucker," he growls. "Dillon recorded it, didn't it?"
"Oh, he recorded it." Tears leak from my eyes as I confirm his suspicion. "What was it you called the goat? A big headed ugly biatch with no god dang manners and the breath of the back end of a donkey?" I giggle, burying my face in my cup when he growls at me. "Poor little goat was just having fun."
His lips twitch. "Pretty sure that is not what I said, Molly."
"Close enough since what you actually said can't be repeated." I eye him over the rim of my mug. "Is this a bad time to tell you that I uploaded the video to social media?"
"Depends." He leans back in his chair, hitting me with a look hot enough to scorch the entire freaking earth. "Is this a bad time to bend you over your console and spank your perfect ass until you're pleading for mercy?"
I gulp, my entire body catching fire as an image of that exact scenario slams into me—him behind me, his hand on my ass, one hand in my hair. Me, writhing in sweet torment.
I sit upright, clearing my throat. Good grief.
"We already discussed you touching me, Easton."
"Did we?" He smirks. "Don't remember it."
I roll my eyes at him, knowing damn well that he's lying. He remembers exactly what I said. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he remembers everything. But he forgets when it's convenient. The man is infuriating.
So…why can't I get him out of my head?
"Why are you here?" I ask abruptly.
"Told you, I brought you a peace offering."
"That's not what I mean. Why are you working nights this week? Why haven't you given up already?"
He eyes me for a long moment, not speaking, and then he shrugs. "You're working nights, so I'm working nights." He takes another sip of his coffee. "Wasn't going to let some other asshole spend the week annoying you."
I blink at him, caught off-guard by his response. Is he…jealous? Holy crap. He is. It glitters in the depths of his eyes as he holds my gaze, unblinking. And I have no idea what to say to that. What to do about it. No one willingly works nights for an entire week just because I am…just because they don't want someone else working with me.