Helpful.
Yes, his forearms in that department-issue polo should probably be illegal.
But he’s also cold, emotionally unavailable, and thinks my entire job is frivolous. I’m here to prove myself professionally,not get distracted by a man who considers smiling and waving a sign of weakness.
Even if he does remember my coffee order.
Even if his rare moments of dry humor catch me completely off guard.
Even if … Why would he bring me a Valentine’s Day doughnut hole?
My traitorous thoughts wander into the ripple of firm abdominal muscles, stray to the fullness of his lips, his powerful stature. Those mercurial hazel eyes.
“Parks & Rec Princess.” Patton appears in my doorway with a casual lean against the frame.
I nearly drop the cup of coffee. Spluttering, I cross and uncross my legs. Smooth a stray piece of hair behind my ear. Wipe my mouth. “Yes?”
“Mayor Barbie is waiting for us.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, right. Mid-month meeting. Conference room.” I glance at the time, having let it get away from me because of coffee … and let’s be real, the man who presumably bought it.
“Five minutes.”
I lift my cup. “Thanks for this.”
He grunts and arches an eyebrow. Does that mean he’s acknowledging it or thinks I’m a delusional imbecile who’d have the hubris to imagine he’d bring me a cup of coffee?
He grunts, then adds, “I take it that it’s better than the motor oil you brew in the break room.”
“I don’t brew motor oil?—”
“Could’ve fooled me. Pretty sure it’s flammable. A fire hazard.”
“Then maybe you should cite me for code violations, Lieutenant.”
“Maybe I will.” His eyes are flat,but he’s smirking.
“Also, happy Valentine’s Day?” The words come out of my mouth as a question rather than a statement. I’ve never received chocolates, flowers, or any sort of gift on this particular holiday. Holding the cup in my hand and glancing at the empty cellophane bag, I’m not sure what category it falls into. Chances are, this is an ordinary Monday to Patton. I can’t read into it.
“Coming?” he asks, his kaleidoscope hazel eyes on me.
I’m sitting, but feel like I’m falling, all knees and elbows as I struggle to my feet.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. Guess I really do need this coffee.” Or I’m about to go unconscious as the poisonous treats act on my system. Goodbye, cruel world!
When we get upstairs, the conference room is packed. Mayor Barbie stands at the head of the table in a power suit, the color of cotton candy, with her blonde hair styled in waves that somehow never move. She has the kind of relentless enthusiasm that makes me wonder if she’s secretly powered by rainbows and municipal bonds.
“Thank you all for coming on such a special day. It’s Valentine’s Day!” She clasps her hands together romantically under her chin. “But we’re here because I have exciting news about our annual Fire & Ice Fest!”
Patton mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “here we go.” He’s in the reserved seat for specific personnel next to me. His eyes and mouth tighten.
I pull out my notebook, immediately in work mode. The Fire & Ice Fest is Huckleberry Hill’s biggest winter event—a fun day of activities culminating in a hockey game between the Fire Department and a team of local hockey legends. Usually, it’s in January. However, because of a polar vortex last month, it had to be postponed.
Mayor Barbie declares, “This year, we’ve secured our very own Rick Welter from the Reno Rebels to be our emcee!”
Thomas whispers, “He can’t be a participant because he was injured during the game against the Knights.”
