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“Then where is he?” I choked out as a stubborn tear slid down my cheek.
Kristy scooted closer and flung an arm around me. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
?
??I can’t do this.” I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that the darkness would numb the worry and the pain.
“Do what?” she asked as she leaned her head against mine.
“I just don’t think I can do this with Dalton. Assuming, of course, that he’s not lying in a ditch somewhere.” I wiped at my tears. “I just don’t think I’m the kind of person who can date a cop.”
When my dad was killed, I had been forever branded. Death always marked those left behind, but when that death was a murder, it left additional scars. I’d dealt with those, and for the most part, been fine. But in all the years since, I’d never once been filled with such sheer panic and terror. I’d never really experienced just how emotionally messed up I could be because of my dad’s occupation and the way he died.
But now, knowing that Dalton did this sort of thing for a living, I was shoved so deep into emotional turmoil that I didn’t know how to dig myself out. Emotions I didn’t know I was capable of came to life. Fears, concerns, general terror—all things I didn’t have to live with on a daily basis because I had never dated a cop before now.
What happened tonight clearly showed me I couldn’t handle it. For as strong as I was, I was not strong enough to deal with this; I just wasn’t equipped. Panic attacks and the need for medication were pretty good indicators of my inability to take this all in stride.
My mind whirling, I’d almost forgotten Kristy was there until she spoke up.
“Remember when we put that sticker on him at the grocery store?”
“We?” I forced a small smile as the memory came rushing back. “That was all you.”
• • •
“Look, Cammie,” Kristy had said way too loudly as we walked into the grocery store where Dalton worked. I’d glanced over in the direction she was staring and felt my insides soften and go gooey, just like they did every time I looked at him. He looked so hot in his white button-down shirt and jeans as he stacked the produce.
“Hey, Dalton!”
When Kristy shouted at him, he turned around, wiping his hands on the front of the black apron his boss made him wear. “Hey, Kristy. Hey, Cammie.” He smiled at us as we neared.
“You’re always working,” Kristy said with a mock pout.
Dalton shrugged. “And you’re never working. Do you even have a job?” he shot back at my best friend, and I fought back a laugh.
“I do not, as a matter of fact, because I’m spoiled and my parents said I don’t have to,” she said with a head nod, and Dalton nodded back.
“Nice. Well, unlike you, I have to work.” He looked between the two of us as the silence stretched out.
I shifted uncomfortably before practically stuttering, “Um, it was good to see you, Dalton, but we have to grab some salad dressing for my mom before she kills us.” I stared into his green eyes, the color of them fascinating me like they usually did.
“Aisle eleven. See you girls later.”
He turned to finish unpacking and stacking fresh produce as Kristy reached for a single piece of fruit. She peeled something from it, then gave Dalton a friendly pat on his back. He looked back at her and smiled, and she grinned at me as I squinted to see what the hell she’d done.
When Dalton turned back to his work, on the back of his shirt was an oval sticker that simply proclaimed the word RIPE in all capital letters.
As in well done.
Ready for picking. And eating.
And I couldn’t agree more.
Dalton Thomas was as RIPE as they came, and I wanted a bite.
• • •
“Kristy, where is he? I know I keep asking the same question, but if something really did happen to him, how would I ever find out? It’s not like I’m his girlfriend or anything. No one in his life even knows I exist.” I threw my hands up in the air before running them through my hair. “No one would think to call me. What am I supposed to do?” Tears filled my eyes again and I hated myself for it, but not knowing Dalton was safe was driving me crazy.
