Was she still committed to spending her time equally with us?
“Dalton!” My captain barked from the truck cab as he glared my way. “Get moving! This scene isn’t going to clear itself! We need to get the road opened back up!”
I nodded, waving my hand at him as I grabbed the push broom off the truck and walked back over to the pavement that had crushed car parts lying across it. “It’s a dead-end road,” I muttered under my breath as I pushed a taillight against the curb. “How much traffic is backing up?”
“None,” An annoying voice answered, and I glared out of the corner of my eye at the infuriating man of the hour as he leaned on the push bar of his police cruiser, watching me.
Tanner Brooks.
I was convinced his only purpose on Earth was to irritate me.
“No shit.” I barked back, and his smirk deepened as I kept sweeping up debris.
“Rough shift, Dalton?” he asked, as if we were friends.
I rolled my eyes, “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.” He replied.
That grin on his face was infuriating. Not cocky exactly—no, that would have made dealing with him easier. I could deal with cocky. This was worse.
This was gentle amusement.He was humoring me in a caring way.
Gross.
“Something funny?” I snapped, pushing harder on the broom and sending a dust cloud at his shiny black boots.
He shrugged, standing up and brushing his boot off. “You look like you’re about to either bite my head off or cry. And I don’t really want to witness either one.”
I blinked, “Do you think this is a game?”
“No,” he said softly. “But it seems that you’re playing one with yourself. And losing.”
That hit me square in the chest. I opened my mouth and closed it.
And then again.
Damnit.
I didn’t do speechless.
I did snark and sarcasm like it was my fucking job.
But there I was, flustered, furious and, worst of all…confused.
“Fuck you.” I snapped, pushing more debris off the road. He didn’t rise up to that barb, or clap back with his own. Which pissed me off. Just once, for fuck's sake, just one time, I wanted Tanner Brooks to fight back with me. To yell. To snap. To say something mean.
Just one time, I wanted his composure to slip and show his true thoughts and feelings.
But he didn’t. He never did. Instead, he stood there, watching me like he could hear my thoughts firsthand and knew how fragile I was at that moment.
I muttered something under my breath, shoved past him, and marched straight for the truck.
He didn’t stop me.
He just watched me; I could feel his eyes on my back.
As I got to the truck and stored the broom away in its compartment, he called out after me with that maddening calm demeanor of his, “Tell Goldie I said,hey.”
