I gestured to the swan, and the guy leaned his head back and nodded.
“I knew it was a mistake to blow it up before I got to Edisto Beach. But my air pump broke, and I couldn’t make myself let the air out after I finally finished.”
“You blew this up yourself?”
That was impressive. The guy was young, but it took some serious lung capacity to blow that whole thing up.
“Yes. I guess I’ll have to let it out now.”
I wracked my brain and glanced at his backseat. My eyes roamed over several heavy textbooks, and I got an idea.
“Not necessarily, but we have to adjust the float so its neck doesn’t touch the front window.”
“Seriously, Officer? You’ll help?”
“Yeah. Step out. Let’s figure this out.”
The guys at the station would give me shit about this, but traffic cops got a bad enough wrap without me giving this guy a ticket for driving while distracted. I pocketed my notebook and secured my side holster as the guy got out of his car. I went over my plan, and he rubbed his hands together, ready to get to work.
Exactly eleven hours and forty-five minutes later, I pulled out of the station, ready to head home. I knew Mom had whipped up something, and the thought of eating some more of her cooking made my stomach grumble, but there was one stop I had to make first. The lights on the vet clinic were off, but Jenna’s SUV was parked in the back. She was the only one left, just like last time. And just like last time, I had to ask her for a favor.
I pulled in beside her and stared at the back door, willing my body to move. I did a breath and pit check, then looked around the empty lot for any excuse that kept me in the cruiser longer.
Why the hell was I so nervous?
Staying with her would solve all my problems. More than the looming threat of my house collapsing with me in it, I wanted to spend more time with her, and this was the way to do it. Or we’d spend one day together, realize deep down we had nothing in common but Phoebe, and part ways knowing it was nothing but a crazy mistake.
Jenna: Hey you. The back doors unlocked.
Me: You spying on me?
Jenna: Wouldn’t you like to know. ;-) I’m in my office.
Talk about being called out like a kid home past curfew. I turned off my engine and headed to the back door, smoothing down my shirt and shaking out my shoulders. I got this.Probably.
9 - JENNA
Iwas in the storage room, grabbing another box of medium-sized gloves when my phone beeped. One of the motion-activated cameras in the back parking lot had gone off. My office was next to storage, and I walked over and switched the security monitor back on, surprised to see Mark sitting in his cruiser. My first thought was Phoebe, but he would have texted or already been at the door if it was her.
What was going on?
Mark looked like he was deep in thought, but I was wrapping up my thrilling Friday night and ready to get home. Or maybe just glad to see him.
Me: The back doors unlocked.
His eyes darted around the empty lot, and I couldn’t help but smile. Crazy or not, I liked him and was glad to see him. My palms got sweaty, and I quickly dug through my desk drawers, searching for gum while he typed out a response. I found two lone pieces and stuck them in my mouth, chewing frantically as his text came through.
Officer Handsome: You spying on me?
Me: Wouldn’t you like to know. ;-) I’m in my office.
I turned off the monitor when I saw him open his cruiser door and get out. He looked like sex on a stick or sex in a uniform. His black button-up shirt hugged every muscle and hard edge, and his thighs looked like they were going to split the seam of his pants. I chewed vigorously, then spit out the gum and stood up, smoothing down my scrub top and shaking out my shoulders. I was brushing out my hair with my fingers when I heard the back door open. I kept my eyes on my dark computer monitor, pretending I was engrossed in my work.
“Hey you,” Mark said, walking into my office with a smile. I stood up and moved closer, taking in his subtle scents of leather and peppermint. How had I never noticed how good he smelled? And his uniform looked better than I remembered, with his badge gleaming on his shirt, drawing my eyes to his broad chest. My comfortable office all of a sudden felt claustrophobic, with his large frame taking up all the space in front of my desk.
I wanted to lean in closer and breathe him in, but Mark stretched out his hand like he meant to shake mine. As I did the same, coming up to stand in front of him, he changed his mind and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels with a chuckle.
I was awkward enough without bumbling through a hello, and the silence stretched on as I desperately tried to think. Should I shake his hand, fist-bump, salute, wave, hug? A hug sounded best, but with no plan of attack, I lifted one hand in greeting and leaned forward. Instead of leaning into me, Mark took his hand out of his pocket and brought it up to shake, landing right smack-dab on my boob.
