"My name is Bristowe, by the way. What's yours?"
Without looking up, he answered, "John Smith."
"That's a lie, isn't it?"
Exasperated, he let his book drop to his lap and pressed his palms to his eyes. "Congratulations, you cracked my code! What difference does it make?"
"You don't trust me." It was a simple statement, making him think everyone trusted her but him, and that rubbed her the wrong way.
"Why should I? Because you carry a badge?"
Holding out a pack of gum, she replied dryly, "Because I'm a lovely person."
"What does that have to do with me?"
Taking back the gum he didn't reach for, she withdrew a piece and stuck it in her mouth. "You're the one who touched me. You must have wanted me."
The tenor of his voice lowered drastically. "Considering the wet spot I felt on your jeans, it's obvious you must have wanted me. Maybe you fake it with other men to play the part, but not with me."
Her big chocolate eyes met his unwaveringly. "I have to play the part. It's my job."
"And that's why I have nothing else to say to you."
Standing, he moved to the bank of dryers on the wall. Despite the time left on his, he jerked the door open and began pulling out his clothes. He'd have to find a new laundromat, that was all there was to it.
"You're being unfair."
Hissing under his breath, Flynn spun with an armload of damp fabric to find the woman directly behind him. "Move."
Immediately, she backed up, and he stalked over to his empty baskets to dump his stuff.
"Listen, I didn't mean to hurt your pride or anything, I was simply doing what I'm supposed to do. Wouldn't you rather there be less crime in your neighborhood?"
"What I mind," he ground out, "is you following me around."
"Fine." Hands up, Bristowe retreated to her vacated seat. "But it's too bad we got off on the wrong foot, because you were right about how you made me feel."
That idea didn't sit well with him at all. "I have no intentions of fucking a pig."
Her gasp at his derogatory term only added weight to the guilt already sitting on his shoulders. Punishing her for things he'd experienced in his past wasn't fair, she was right about that. Locking his jaw, he let his arms relax and set the basket back on the chair.
"I'll apologize for saying that, but you need to back off."
She nodded. "Fine, then I'll also apologize for being pushy. It's an excellent trait for a police officer, but not so much for daily interactions with others."
Finally, Flynn let himself look directly at her. Bristowe, she'd said. He wondered if she'd gotten stuck with a surname as a first name the way he had. Even without being all fluffed up like she was at the bar, she was still strikingly attractive. "I've never picked up a date at the laundromat."
Full lips curved up. "Neither have I. Or, you know, while on the job."
"I need to put these back." Gesturing at his clothes, Flynn waited for her nod before he stuck them back in the dryer.
When he returned to the chairs, she sat there fiddling with her phone. "My dad reads Clancy."
Flushing, he sat and left his book where it was. "No one else even knows I like to read."
"Why?"
"That's a more loaded question than you can imagine." The razzing the boys back at Mercy House would give him for being uncool, the amused looks and laughter from the guys he worked with; the list went on.
