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“How did they know I was a cop?”
“Come on, Sloane, you’re smarter than that. Don’t make me say it.”
“Trevor.” She frowns, sadness glimmering in her eyes. “Wow. That’s low.”
“Believe me, babe, I want to punch him in the fucking face all over again.”
Her lips twitch with amusement. “You called me babe. That’s twice now.”
Fuck.
She freezes as if she suddenly realizes our proximity and drops her hands by her sides. Once again, her cheeks turn a pretty shade of red. When she starts to back away, I crowd her personal space, my hands finding her waist so I can keep her from retreating too far.
“I, uh, I still don’t understand what made you decide to bet with them, Demps.”
I tighten my fingers around her body through her clothes, desperately trying to memorize the feel of her in case it’s my only opportunity to touch her. “They threatened to pay you a visit.”
Her eyes widen and her lips part. “Me?”
Reluctantly, I remove one hand from her waist to touch her cheek instead. Her lashes flutter at my touch, giving me stupid hope that she might feel one iota of the way I do. “I couldn’t fucking let that happen.”
“Wow. Okay.” She exhales heavily, her breath tickling over my chest. “You do remember I’m a cop, right? I can handle myself.”
My thumb greedily slides along her warm flesh close to her mouth I dream about on repeat. “I know. That’s why I’m here now. That night, though, I wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared shitless.”
She softens at my vulnerable admission and then surprises me by stepping toward me, enveloping me in a hug. I wrap my arms around her lithe body and squeeze her to me, burying my nose in her hair that smells like sweet sunshine.
“I’m sorry I said those mean things to you,” she whispers against my chest. “That was uncalled for. Sometimes I just blurt out all the wrong things.”
Someone clears their throat as they enter the break room and Sloane jerks away from me like she’s been caught doing something bad.
It’s me.
I’m the bad thing.
“Is that your vehicle in my spot?” a man asks. “I should have you ticketed and towed.”
I wheel around and come face to face with the Porsche prick. “You’re the chief?”
“And you’re illegally parked.”
Sloane steps between us. Maybe she can sense the testosterone rolling off each of us in waves. He’s baiting me. It’s a goddamn parking spot, not a fire lane, for fuck’s sake.
“He’s leaving,” Sloane assures the man. “No need to give him a ticket.”
The chief, in his fancy suit with his slicked black hair, sneers at me. “Don’t park there again, kid.”
I bristle at his words and am about to tell him to fuck off when Sloane interjects.
“We’ll discuss this later. Please just go.”
I smirk at the chief and then tip my head at Sloane before stalking out of the break room. Several cops watch me as I pass, clearly curious as hell as to what I could possibly be doing with Sloane Thurman. Let them think whatever they want. It’s not like it’s true.
Kaden stops me on my way out. “Hey, Dempsey?”
“Yeah, man, what’s up?”
He glances toward the break room and then back at me. “Want to come over tonight? We could order takeout and play games. Gemma could come too.”
