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As he made his way down Roosevelt, the downpour continued and began a relentless rhythm on the roof of his patrol car. It was really coming down now. So much so it was difficult to see more than a car length in front, and as he pulled to a stop at the intersection to turn onto Clark and waited for the lights to change, the rain got progressively harder.
Bailey squinted out the windshield and saw the lights flick from red to green, and just as he was about to pull forward and make the turn, a sporty little number flew through the red light, barely missing him.
Bailey let out a string of curses, flipped on his lights, and took off after the idiot who’d almost taken out the front end of his vehicle.
His windshield wipers were working overtime as he followed after Speed Racer, and when the driver seemed to realize he was being followed, he slowed down and came to a stop on the side of the street.
Bailey pulled in behind the car, his headlights illuminating the vehicle through the relentless onslaught of the weather, and resigned himself to getting soaked because this moron hadn’t been paying attention.
With his rain jacket on, Bailey let out a sigh and shoved open the door. He had a flashlight in one hand as he made his approach, and as he got closer, he couldn’t help but admire the vehicle. As a lover of classic cars, he noted it was a fully restored 1959 Aston Martin coupe, and it was gorgeous.
He would’ve thought that someone who bothered to put such time and care into restoring such a beauty would have had better common sense than to drive it so fast in this weather, not to mention barreling through a red light. But then again, maybe this wasn’t their car.
As he walked up the side of the vehicle, Bailey peered into the back seat to see it was clear, and when he reached the driver’s side and the window rolled down, he shifted the light so it would illuminate the person in the car.
Bailey bent a little to see inside, and the face staring back at him woke him up quicker than any hit of caffeine could ever do. What in the hell? Henri?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” As those words left the mouth Bailey had spent the last two weeks fantasizing about, his brain tried to catch the hell up.
One minute he’d been about to write the driver up for speeding and failure to stop at a red light, and now? Now he was busy trying to find his tongue, because he was face to face with the man who’d stroked his dick to full mast in public, only to up and vanish when it came to closing the damn deal. This was unbelievable.
“You’re a cop?” Henri said, his eyes roaming over Bailey as he stood there in the pouring rain, trying to make sense of what was going on.
This was the last thing he’d expected this morning, to run into Henri, here. He must’ve gone over that night in Oshkosh a million times, trying to work out what he’d done to make Henri leave without any explanation. And even though Bailey had decided it’d been for the best, sparing him the morning-after walk of shame and subsequent days of regret that would’ve followed, the purposeful dismissal still stung.
Now here Henri was, sitting in front of Bailey after almost careening into his patrol car. “What the hell are you doing here?”
As water slid down the inside of his uniform, that wicked smirk that had tempted him to throw aside caution and take a walk on the wild side slid across Henri’s lips. “In Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I live here, Officer…?”
When Henri’s eyes shifted to Bailey’s vest, Bailey realized his name was covered up by his rain gear and he had yet to identify himself. He also thought it prudent to note that he hadn’t told Henri his name the first time they’d met either. Apparently, Henri had the innate ability to render him completely fucking useless.
“Bailey. It’s Officer Bailey, and you were speeding. You went right through a red light.” Bailey wasn’t sure what he expected after that comment. But when Henri’s eyes remained fixated on the bulletproof vest he wore over his shirt, Bailey said, “Did you hear me?”
“Your name’s…Bailey?”
Bailey put one hand on the roof of the car and leaned down so he could get a better look at Henri’s face—for professional reasons, of course—then nodded. “Yes. I realize that’s news to you, but—”
“Officer Bailey?” When Bailey just stared at him, he thought he heard Henri say, “No fuckin’ way…”
“Look, I know this is a shock, but can we focus here for a minute? This rain’s no joke.”
Henri shook his head and closed his eyes for a second. He was probably trying to recover from the same shock Bailey was—it wasn’t every day the guy you ghosted pulled you over for a speeding ticket—then he opened his eyes and said, “Sure thing, officer. Go ahead.”
