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“Nah. I like being a cop. I get to drive fast and tell people how stupid they are.” I licked icing off my fingers and grinned.
“Anyway,” he said, shifting to a smile that he probably thought was disarming. “I was wondering if you could help me out with something?”
I gave him a properly inquisitive look, though the slight curl of disappointment in my belly already had a good idea of what he was about to ask. Some sort of trouble with his neighbor maybe, or a ticket that he was hoping I could help him take care of.
He tugged a folded piece of paper from his pocket. A ticket. I hated that I’d been right. No real interest in me after all. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Back in college he’d always seemed more interested in having either a hot girlfriend he could show off or a super smart one he could use for free tutoring. I hadn’t really fallen into either category, which was one of the reasons I’d been astounded that he’d asked me out in the first place.
Unfolding the ticket, his expression morphed into “sheepish.” I wasn’t buying it. He probably practiced these expressions in the mirror in order to get what he wanted. He was smooth.
But I’d been dealing with demons for the past ten years.
I didn’t say anything as he set it on the desk. Didn’t even look at it. Just continued to gaze at him with the same inquisitive, slightly puzzled expression. Two could play this game.
He broke first, tapping the ticket with a finger and clearing his throat. “There’s this road near my parents’ house with a hill, and I didn’t realize how fast I was going. He got me for sixty in a forty-five.”
“Okay,” I said as guilelessly as possible. “You need to know where to go to pay it? Or are you going to contest it in court?”
He leaned back, rueful smile still in place. “It’s a pretty hefty fine,” he said. “I was wondering if you knew any way I could get it reduced?”
“You want me to see if I can fix it.” I didn’t make it a question. “You want to see if you can spend a few dollars for donuts and coffee to see if you can save over a hundred.” If I was more of a bitch I’d throw the coffee right back at him.
Now he winced. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I just wanted to see if it could be changed to seatbelt or—” He let out a choked cry and staggered to his feet, staring down in shock at the coffee covering his front.
I stared in shock as well, then yanked my eyes to my right hand—which was holding the empty coffee cup. I barely even remembered throwing the coffee at him, but I knew I had. I’d thought about it, then done it. No hesitation.
“Oh my god, Roman. I…I…” I dropped the empty cup on my desk and yanked open my top drawer to grab out some tired napkins from a long ago fast food meal. I thrust them toward him, and he eyed them almost uncertainly before taking them and making a futile attempt to blot up the coffee.
“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then” he said, mouth twisting in a grimace.
“Shit, Roman, I swear I—”
“Everything cool here?”
I jerked my head around to see Cory, my sergeant, standing in the doorway of the office, frowning beneath his mustache, brown eyes taking in the details.
I opened my mouth but suddenly had no idea what to say. I threw my coffee on him because he asked me how to get a ticket reduced. So fucking what? That kind of stuff happened all the time.
“I’m a klutz,” Roman spoke up while I was still floundering. He turned the wry smile onto Sarge as he wiped his hands on the soggy napkins. “I was trying to give Kara her coffee, and we bumped hands.” He laughed, an easy sound. “I was the loser.”
Damn, but he was good. I’d have totally believed him if I hadn’t actually been here when it happened and done the actual spilling. Throwing, rather.
Sarge’s face cleared, and he gave a brisk nod. “Gotcha. There’s a restroom down the hall if you need to clean up.” He shifted his attention to me. “I’ll see if I can get a trustee in here to mop.”
I just gave him a nod. I wasn’t sure if it was safe for me to speak yet.
Roman simply gave a self-effacing chuckle. “I think I got the worst of it. I’m going to have to head home to change anyway.” He shot me a perfect imitation of an apologetic look. Or maybe he really was apologetic? “I’m really sorry about getting coffee everywhere, Kara.”
I gulped. “Um. ’S okay,” I managed. Why the fuck had I thrown my coffee at him?
He caught my eye, and for the first time I saw what I thought might be true emotion—a confusing split-second flash of regret, anger, affection, and relief. Then he was out the door while I stood with my hands clenched to keep them from shaking.
Sarge watched him go, and as soon as the outer door closed he turned to me, eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
I shook my head as if that could get my thoughts back in order. “I threw my coffee at him.”
He made a hmmfing sound. “No shit. I’m not any sort of blood-spatter analyst, but—” His gaze raked the coffee on the wall. “—even I can tell that was more than a ‘bump’ of hands. Now tell me whether I need to go after him and defend the virtue of one of my sisters in blue.”
A snort of laughter escaped me at the thought of anyone defending what little virtue I might still have. I unclenched my hands, sighed. “He didn’t do anything like that. All he did was ask if I could get a ticket reduced.” I grimaced and rubbed at my eyes. “I have no idea why that set me off.”
