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She held the door open for me, and we walked into the blessedly warm building. “Jesus, why’s it so hot in here?” Brittany whined.
“Because you’re going through menopause,” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Take that back.”
I ignored her and kept walking.
“Are you sure I should be bringing these up here? I feel like I’m holding a porn magazine in full view of the entire police station,” I said nervously.
The cookies in my hands felt like they weighed a ton, but they were nothing compared to the manila envelope holding my photos from the maternity shoot Brittany had forced me to do.
“Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be okay. I called Cabe when I pulled up. He said Loki’s been in his office all day making calls about the case he’s on,” she whispered loudly.
Why she even bothered to whisper at all was beyond me. She’d done it so loudly that she had made every head in the entire room turn towards us.
How was that possible in the busiest part of the station?
Mainly, it was because they were all a bunch of busy bodies.
Their gossip was worse than women drunk on Wine Wednesday.
Not that I’d gotten to participate in Wine Wednesday.
Being pregnant really was a drag sometimes.
“Hey, baby,” a deep male’s voice said from behind us.
I didn’t wait while Brittany stopped to speak with her husband.
“Those for me?” Trance asked.
“No,” I answered and kept walking. “They’d be for you if you weren’t so mean.”
Trance’s eyes warmed.
He sure was a cutie. Sometimes I was jealous of Viddy.
I only got to see Loki in uniform once a month, and that was for the mandatory department meetings with the Chief of Police, the Mayor, and the detectives to discuss their cases.
He stripped out of the uniform the moment he left the Mayor’s office.
“Hey,” Trance said as he snatched the cookies from me. “It wasn’t my fault. Viddy made me sleep on the couch for that, too. But he had it coming. I swear.”
Trance’s grin was contagious. “Oh, yeah? How about you just show me what you got, and then I might forgive you.”
He stared at me for long moments before he unbuttoned his long sleeved shirt, rolled it up until his upper forearm was exposed, and showed it to me.
I blinked at what I saw.
Then I started laughing before I walked away.
“Oh, shit,” I giggled.
“Can I have some cookies now?” He yelled at my retreating back.
“Sure,” I agreed quickly. After seeing that tattoo, he deserved the cookies.
I’d been holding a grudge against Trance for nearly a week.
