“I … uh … ”
He lifted one shoulder cavalierly and then shoveled fries into his mouth before taking a healthy sip of his beer to wash it all down.
She eyed him curiously before nodding at Mickey for yet another shot. “I had an awful day,” she said quietly. “I’m drinking to forget.”
“Did you have to stand out in the rain and issue tickets all day?” he asked, his volume matching hers. He drained his beer and lifted an eyebrow at Mickey for another.
She nodded but then shook her head. “I didn’t issue any citations. And then there was a fatal accident on the highway we had to deal with.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Those are never easy.”
She shook her head again. “No, they’re not.”
It seemed like she was avoiding his gaze on purpose now, swirling her last remaining fry around and around in a big puddle of ketchup until it was limp and covered in red. “I don’t want to be a traffic cop,” she finally managed to whisper. “I didn’t want to be out there. Besides you, I pulled over two little old ladies and didn’t have the heart to cite them.”
He snorted. “Yeah, my dad was a cop, said it was tough when he’d have to pull over a car for speeding only to find a wrinkled little blue hair behind the wheel. For the most part, they drive slow as fuck, but then once in a while you get an eighty-five-year-old Mario Andretti with a medical alert bracelet, going sixty in a school zone.”
To Brock’s surprise and delight—which also surprised him—she burst out laughing, nodded and then slammed back the shot in front of her. Damn, she was cute. And she smelled incredible.
He nodded, signaled Mickey and told him to put everything on his “tab.”
Krista finally finished that last fry and drained the water glass in front of her.She let out a loud and satisfyingahbefore lifting her head and batting her lashes at him.
“You look different from the picture on your license,” she said. “I like your hair longer. And your face has filled out.”
His skin prickled. He hoped to God she didn’t ask anything personal. Brock never got personal.
She leaned forward so their faces were only six inches apart. Her breath smelled of tequila and ketchup, but it was quickly overpowered by the most divine scent—floral and sweet with a hint of spice. It wrapped around him and he had to force himself not to shut his eyes and inhale deeply.
“Hmm?” he hummed, wondering what she was looking at.
She blinked those diamond blues at him and smiled coyly. “You have beautiful green eyes. And the scruff beard is hot, definitely better than the clean-shaved look of your picture.”
She’d remembered that much about him? Was she coming on to him? Was she always this forward, or was the tequila making her brazen? Either way he didn’t care. She was hot as fuck, and if she said the word, he’d have her home and clawing up his back before the clock struck twelve.
“You owe me, you know,” she said with only a slight slur to her words.
He decided to play along. “I do, do I? I bought you a burger and covered your tab. I’d say we’re square for whatever it is you think Ioweyou.”
With a sultry little lip bite and a head shake that tousled those untameable curls of hers, she said, “Nuh-uh.”
“Nuh-uh?”
“I let you off with a warning. And we both know youwerespeeding right up until you saw me. You tossed on the brakes at the perfect moment.”
Well, she had him there.
“So I owe you then?”
She nodded.
“I’m not sure you should be drinking anymore, and I’m not a fan of dessert.How do you propose Ioweyou …constable?”
Her pink tongue darted out between her lips and ran seductively along the seam. “Stumbling distance?”
A growl built at the back of his throat. He hadn’t gotten laid in ages, and this little sprite had him sporting a half-chub since earlier in the day. Did she have her handcuffs with her still? Maybe an officer’s hat?
Sliding off the barstool, he slung his leather jacket on and held out his hand. “We’ll be there in less than ten.”
