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Oh, he called me honey. He thought I’d taste like honey. I wonder if I do. “No worries.” I scan the kitchen in search of my sweatshirt. Garrett finds it first, helping me redress.
“I’ll call you after I talk to him.”
“Why do you need to go in?”
Garrett pauses. “He wants the locket returned to the Konigs. I need to talk him out of that.”
“Oh.”
“It’s currently in my locker at the station. I’m the only one with a key.”
“I appreciate you keeping it safe.”
“Of course.” Garrett’s finger gently touches my face. “You’re beautiful. I’m sorry we were interrupted.”
“It happens.” To me. All the time.
“I’ll call you.”
“All right.” With my purse in hand, I pull my phone out and click on the Uber app. With Garrett’s address plugged into my phone, I’ve got a car on the way in no time. “It’ll be here in three minutes.”
“Let me walk you out. I want to check out the driver.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Don’t argue. I’m a cop. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”
His job. Right.
As we wait for my ride at the curb, I ask, “Garrett?” I’m not sure I should ask. It could be traumatizing. I do it anyway.
“Yeah?”
“How’d you get that scar?”
Slipping his hands into his jean pockets he turns to face me. “I’d love to tell you it happened on the job, that I got stabbed saving a damsel in distress but, like you, I’m no liar.”
I’m glad to hear that. I smile because that’s what Garrett does to me. He makes me smile.
“When I was around twelve or thirteen, a bunch of the neighborhood kids were playing a game called kick-the-can.”
I laugh. “I loved that game.”
“Yeah, well, I was determined to win. So much so, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.”
“Oh, what happened, Garrett?”
He points to a spot across the street. “I was right there, in Kenny Dougan’s yard hiding behind that tree.”
I nod. I see the tree in question.
“I waited there for my shot at the can.” Garrett moves closer to me, placing his hands on my arms. They’re warm which is nice because it’s chilly. “The second the can was unprotected, I set out, full speed, for the can.”
“Uh, huh.” He’s a great storyteller. I’m on the edge of my seat.
“I got about three steps onto the street when old Mr. Carter hit me with his car.”
“Garrett!” I know I sound alarmed. I am alarmed.
