She scoffs. “No.”
“So, you’re taking her home?”
Her stone expression falters. “I?—”
“Rent-controlled usually means no pets.” I hold out a hand. “Guessing you don’t want to get evicted. Come on, shift’s over.”
Her brows drop, her mouth a thin line.
“Why did you try to return her?” Her words are breathy, pained.
“For the same reason Lawson was taking care of her while we were on shift, I can’t leave her alone in my apartment. I can’t have her here. I can’t have he?—”
She scoffs again, and I’m feeling like the lousiest human in existence.
Tennison plucks up her backpack, shoving her belongings from the small dresser into it. “See you next shift,Captain.”
Christ.
She shoves past me. When Petal goes to follow her, I grab up the leash. The pup whines before lying down.
“Yeah, she has the same effect on me, too, girl.”
Big brown eyes flick up to me.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair.
Fucking hell.
It’s going to be a long year.
Laws flies past me. “Keep up, Superman!” He rounds a turn on the Central Park track and disappears.
I pick up the pace, my stride lengthening to catch up to him. But my head’s not in it today. I’ve never had a crew situation at work I haven’t been able to sort out and have a great outcome.
Tennison, she’s stubborn and feisty all rolled into one.
She’s good at her job—surprisingly so, for a probie. She did have longer than most in the fire academy. Not through any fault of her own. Which is why I can’t get a handle on her personality.
Sure, she’s from New Zealand, but aren’t they supposed to be laid back or something?
Footsteps thunder up behind me.
A hand slaps the back of my head as Griff matches my pace. “What’s eating you, Hammond?”
“He’s got probie problems,” Dex says, filing in on the other side. The twins run alongside me in sync. It always surprises me, since they are complete opposites in almost everything else.
Dex checks his watch. “Going have to speed it up, Cap. You’re getting old and slow.”
Griff shoots him a glare. “It’s not a done deal yet.”
Always Mr. Serious, Griffin is the straitlaced brother. Dex, well, he’s more like the class clown in a legislator’s clothes. Both lawyers working at the family business. Both incredibly wealthy. Both single and happy to keep it that way. For various reasons, I’m sure.
We move along the path, weaving our way through other runners, walkers, and tourists. We reach the end, the twins’ favorite part of our Saturday runs, and I slow to a halt and walk in a circle.
Laws is already grabbing bottles of water from the drinks stand waiting there every weekend. He tosses one my way as the twins track their own circles, closer to the group of women warming up.
If anything, Griff and Dex are predictable.
