That last emotion? That’s the one that kept me up last night, eventually needing my hand and a cold shower to be able to fall asleep.
“Planning on joining us, Callaghan?” Leo Talbot, my boss — and Kat’s cousin — says drily from his place at the front of the conference room inside the Dogwood Cove police station.
“Yes, sorry. I’m here.” I flip my phone over and give him an apologetic grin. Thankfully, Leo’s a cool guy and doesn’t give me shit for not paying attention during our daily staff meeting. But he does stick me with highway patrol for the day, which normally would have me groaning inwardly.
“Okay, and before we get started, let me remind you all that interviews for the two new detective positions are starting soon. If you want to be considered, I need applications submitted by the end of the week.” Leo fixes me with another stare, this one making me squirm in my seat.
He’s mentioned in passing that I should submit an application. But I haven’t. And I don’t intend to. After all, there’s not a chance in hell I’d be the best candidate for the promotion. Why bother setting myself up for disappointment? I have enough of that swirling in my head in the form of self-criticism. The last thing I need is for my superiors to tell me I’m not good enough. I already know that.
After the meeting ends, I avoid Leo and take one of the SUVs out of the lot and make my way to the highway as snow falls around me, blanketing the ground. We don’t get heavy snowfall very often on Vancouver Island, so every time we do, there’s always a handful of drivers who are not equipped for it and cause all kinds of issues on the roads.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the snow, but only when I don’t have to work in it. Give me a mountain to ski down and a hot tub waiting at the bottom any day. But this? Rescuing stranded, unprepared idiots over and over again? No, thanks.
The next several hours fly by as I keep having to pull over to help push cars that have spun out on the road, call tow trucks for ones that just can’t handle the winter weather, and even attend the scene of one crash. Thankfully, no one has been hurt so far, but I’m cold and cranky. Why don’t people learn from their mistakes and get winter tires before it’s too late?
I’ve just sent the third tow truck on its way, this time with a little convertible hooked up to it and a shaken driver who promised me they were headed straight to the tire shop tomorrow. I waved the snowplow along gratefully, when out of the corner of my eye, I catch the blinking of someone’s hazard lights behind me about fifty meters. I grab my first aid kit, just in case, and radio in my location and that I’m leaving my patrol car before heading out on foot down the highway. It’s starting to get dark out, and while the snow has slowed down, it’s still pretty blustery out here. Thank fuck, my shift is almost over. I can probably head back to the station after I deal with this car and its occupants.
But when I finally make it through the snow drifts on the passenger side and peer in the window, my heart leaps into my throat at the sight of a familiar head of glossy dark hair bent over. I pound on the glass, making the driver look up in surprise.
She presses the unlock switch for the doors and I quickly get in, my eyes searching Kat’s body frantically for any signs of injury. “Are you okay?”
She huffs out a sigh. “Hi, Hunter. I’m fine, but my stupid heater isn’t working.”
I turn some dials, and sure enough, there’s no heat coming out of the vents.
“Shit. That’s not good, Kitty Kat. Why didn’t you keep driving home?”
Her head thumps back against the headrest. “I pulled over to see if I could get it working again, instead of messing around while I was driving, and then had the brilliant idea to turn the car off and on again. You know, like you do with electronics. Restart and all that shit. But now the car won’t start.”
The mixture of sarcasm and frustration in her words makes my mouth quirk up in a small grin, but the truth is, I’m still fighting back waves of anxiety. If I hadn’t been close by, how long would Kat have been stuck here?
“Before you start giving me hell, I was just having a moment of self-pity before calling my brother when you walked up. And I have emergency blankets in the back, so I’d be warm until he got here.”
I huff out a laugh at her sass as the waves of panic slowly subside. “Busted. I was totally gearing up to read you the riot act about winter preparedness. Why don’t I give you a ride home? I’m off shift now and it would be a lot faster than waiting for your brother.”
She blows air out between her lips and rolls her head toward me. “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” Her grateful smile warms the air between us and my hand sneaks out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. When she laughs at my action, I snatch my hand back.
“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling like an idiot.
“Don’t apologize. I’m only laughing because you have no idea how many times I’ve had to stop myself from doing that toyou.”
My embarrassment turns into confusion until she reaches out, removes the toque from my head, and twirls the lock of hair that is always in my eyes around her finger. Only then do I let out a chuckle of my own. She wasn’t making fun of me. Fucking anxiety.
“Thanks.” I pull my hat back on. “But what do you mean you’ve had to stop yourself?”
Kat tugs her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes drop down to her hands.
“Because I…I didn’t think we were like that. I mean, we’re friendly, sure, but you’re friendly with everyone. I didn’t want you to feel like I was being too forward.”
“You didn’t want to be too forward and touch my hair, but you have no problem asking me to be your date to a fancy dinner?” I pull on my humour to dispel the last few tendrils of worry and embarrassment swirling inside me.
Her face turns pink, but she giggles. “Yeah, I never claimed to be smart.”
The radio strapped to my shoulder chooses that moment to come to life, dispatch informing me I’m officially off shift and should return to the station. My replacement is on their way. After I give my confirmation and inform them I’m on my way back to station, I turn to Kat.
“Ready to go? Or would you like to hang out in this icebox for a while longer?”
Her laughter tells me I’ve made the right call by infusing the situation with jokes. I’ll take having Kat as a friend, even if I wish things were different —I was different— and we could be more.
