Chapter Three
The only thing Flynnhad left to do with his day off was laundry. He was pretty bad about letting it pile up, considering he had to schlep it all the way to the laundromat. There was no sense only washing three days’ worth of clothes at a time when it was such a hassle, so it was typically at least a week’s worth of baskets he had to drag down the rickety stairs and out to his car. Maybe one day, he could afford to move to a place with its own laundry room. Better, maybe he could find a place with an elevator.
Flynn had a secret only the other frequenters of his usual wash and fold knew about. Once he had the machines going, he settled into a molded plastic chair and picked up the worn paperback he'd tucked into one of his laundry baskets. The most current Tom Clancy novel his local librarian could find for him was his guilty pleasure.
By the time he'd read through a few chapters and stood to swap his wet clothes into two dryers, the front door opened and slapped closed. With little interest, Flynn raised his head.
No.No, no, no. What the fuck was that woman doing there? It was unmistakably her, even with the masses of hair pulled into a ponytail and little to no makeup on her face.
Slamming the dryer door, Flynn shoved his quarters in the slot and set the timer. Head down, he went back to his seat and picked up his book, slouching in the chair and wishing for invisibility. It was better for them both if she didn't see him. Just because he'd thought about her more than he should have didn't mean he wanted to drum up some manners and have a conversation.
Unfortunately, fate must have thought differently. Either that, or the detective with the exceptional ass was a glutton for punishment.
"So, we meet again."
Biting off the rude word sitting on the tip of his tongue, he grunted instead.
"The laundromat in my building had a burst pipe, and this was the first place I could find to use in a pinch."
Flynn still hadn't looked up from his book. Clearly, she'd never been taught that someone with their nose in a paperback doesn't want to be bothered. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Just so you don't think I'm stalking you."
He snorted. "Five-o keeping an eye on me wouldn't be a new thing."
"Do you have a warrant out or something?"
Finally, he raised his eyes, if only to glare holes into her forehead. The brisk tone of voice she’d used screamedon the clock. "Are you serious?"
"Well, yes, it's not a minor thing if—"
Surely, his aggravated sigh could be heard a block away. "Fuck's sake, lady, do you ever turn it off? Does it ever occur to you that not everyone is a case to be solved or a perp to be cuffed?"
"Of course." Face reddening, she crossed her legs. "But you said the police are looking for you."
"No, I saidifthey were, it wouldn't be surprising." Shaking his head, he went back to his book.
"That clears everything up, thanks." With a little huff, she yanked her purse into her lap and dug through it.
Flynn was perfectly happy to ignore her, letting her think whatever she wanted.
