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Powell was avoiding Gunnar like the plague. Something had happened between them—Gunnar was too snarly for that not to be the case. Jarrod wasn’t stupid enough to ask what.
Just like the queen was avoiding Jarrod. And that meant Haldyn was probably a lot smarter than Jarrod was, too.
She was ignoring him. And had been since she and her little pal Powell had come into the breakfast room where the Barratts’ served their entire household…well, breakfast.
She’d given him suspicious little looks, though.
He dropped her off in the lab. Lila Dodson was taking over guard duty, if Haldyn needed to leave her office, for a few hours so he could catch up the cases on his desk.
Jarrod felt edgy, for lack of a better way to describe it. He didn’t like having someone else guarding her. It didn’t feel right, not being the one to watch over her now.
Kissing her had been a mistake. If it had even been long enough to be considered a kiss. It had just been a brief instant.
Then again, it might have lasted for hours. He wasn’t exactly certain how long she’d been in his arms. It had seemed like a lifetime. He wanted to do it again. To see if there was something he had missed. Some explanation for why nothing felt the same in his world now.
Hell, men like him didn’t think like that. React like that. They just didn’t.
He didn’t see his buddy Miguel Rodriguez going around getting rattled by a damned woman in forensics or anything. Didn’t see Dom giving in to the temptation that was one Madison McAlister either.
Not every guy in Major Crimes went looney tunes over the ladies of the lab.
They just didn’t.
Fields stopped by Jarrod’s desk. Fields was riding a desk now until his retirement papers went through. The man was going to stay home and do double-diaper duty for those eight-week-old twin babies of his. “You good, Foster? Seem like something is on your mind right now.”
Jarrod almost asked the older man his opinion. He and Fields—they understood each other. They were the same kind, after all. Tough, hard, dedicated to the job. Cops to their soul.
Or Fields had been.
Until his son had died from a heart condition about six years ago, at the age of seventeen. Until the choir shooting when Fields’s daughter Charlotte had nearly died, too.
And until Rory.
Rory.
Rory was one of them.
Hell.
Charlie had had a one-nighter with one of the ladies of the lab, getting her pregnant in the bargain. It had been a one-night thing, supposedly. Well, that one-night thing had been all it took.
Rory had cast her lures and reeled Charlie the rest of the way in.
Just like that. Captured him forever.
Those ladies of the lab in forensics, they were dangerous to Major Crimes men everywhere. Evidence was mounting.
Maybe he needed to be a bit more cautious here. To think this through.
Haldyn was the queen of the ladies of the lab. There was no denying that.
She could capture any man in Major Crimes she wanted. All she had to do was try. She already had Daniel half on the hook.
“I’m good, damn it. Just thinking.” Charlie had been a grumpy bastard, just like Melody and the others had accused Jarrod of being more times than he could count. But now, Charlie wasn’t like the man he had been before much at all.
“Thinking will get you into trouble one day. Or so I’ve been told.”
The other man was happy now. With two beautiful twin babies who had been born in early January. The guy had five more months tops until he was out of the TSP forever.
