In the Line of Duty: First Responders, Book 2 (2 page)

BOOK: In the Line of Duty: First Responders, Book 2
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“Hot,” she mumbled, giving a last cough.

“Your breakfast is ready, but maybe I should blow on it first?” he asked, putting down her plate.

“I’m not a toddler,” she defended, forcing a smile.

He brought out his own plate, put it on the bar and came around to sit beside her on a tall stool.

The breakfast looked as delicious as it smelled. Four crisp strips of bacon were lined up on one side of her plate and two eggs sat in the middle, the whites slightly shiny from being sinfully fried in the bacon grease. Two slices of toast were cut into triangles and spread with what looked like strawberry jam. She picked up a piece of bacon first and bit into it.

“I know it’s not the healthiest breakfast, but good God, I love bacon and eggs,” she confessed, cutting into an egg with the side of her fork. He’d salted and peppered it just right, and she ate another bite before trying the toast. “Didn’t know you could cook, Jake.”

“I’d like to say I picked it up in the army, but I’d be lying.” He put down his fork and reached for his coffee. “My mom, all the way. She made all of us learn how to cook. And then made us take turns with dinner. My dad included. We can all hold our own. My specialty is pulled pork.”

Kendra wasn’t sure what to say. She’d come in here half an hour ago not wanting to do anything but get the details and get the hell out. Now she was eating breakfast with Jake and he was talking about his family. She gave her head a shake. She really did need sleep, didn’t she? She was losing her edge.

“What about you? You cook?” he asked, as if this were any ordinary day and she hadn’t just responded to his B&E. Like they were
friends
. The idea made her frown. She didn’t
do
friends. And definitely not with men like Jake.

“Some. I can make bacon and eggs.” Her lips started to twitch as he chuckled. “Grilled cheese. Chocolate cake in a cup.”

“In a
cup
?”

She shrugged. “Why make an entire cake for myself? I’d eat it all and never stay in shape. So you mix everything in a coffee mug and put it in the microwave for three minutes and voila. Perfectly sized cake in a cup.”

“Sounds delicious.” Sarcasm dripped from the words.

“It does the trick.” Especially on a rare Friday night off, sitting at home watching rerun movies from the nineties on cable. That was about the extent of her social life these days, not that she cared to admit that to him.

She put down the last bread crust and sighed. “Thanks for breakfast, but I really do need to get back. I’m on again tonight and I need some sleep.”

“You’ll let me know about the investigation?”

“Someone from the detachment will.”

“Not you personally?”

There was an intimate note in his voice she recognized, and it sent off warning bells in her head. The last thing she wanted was to get more familiar with Jake Symonds. Perhaps they’d struck a temporary truce here, but she still didn’t approve of him. It wasn’t just the way he used his sexy charm so carelessly. It was deeper than that. The choices he made. The kind of life he lived. He caused more problems than he solved around here, and she’d do well to remember it.

She slid off the stool and nodded. “First thing you might want to do is call the insurance company and have someone fix that door. I’m sure boarding it up would violate some sort of fire-code thing, and heaven forbid you shut down for a few days. Wouldn’t want anything to keep the pub closed, would we?” She couldn’t help the sarcastic twist to her final words.

“Well, well. I was wondering how long it would take for the claws to come out. I guess they operate better on a full stomach, huh?”

His eyes, usually so full of sass, flashed at her, mossy green and hard as jade. She’d hit a nerve. Good, she thought with satisfaction.

“I just say it like I see it.”

“Maybe you need glasses, Kendra. You seem to be quite short-sighted.”

Something flickered inside her as he used her first name. It was too personal, too… She swallowed. Too intimate. Which seemed foolish considering they were rarely ever in the same room together.

But there was always the memory of that night. And the fact that for a moment—just a single breath of a moment—his gaze had caught hers and she’d lost herself just a little. They’d connected.

But that had been right before she’d shut the cell door in his face and the moment had been quickly broken. She lifted her chin. “That’s Constable Givens to you.”

“I beg your pardon,
Constable
.”

She checked her watch—she should have been back by now. All she really wanted was a hot shower and to crawl into bed. But the thought of a hot shower brought her earlier thought about Jake to the front of her mind, and she felt heat rise through her body. She’d go home and have a shower, and it would definitely be a shower
alone
.

“We’ll be in touch with any developments.” She deliberately used the all-encompassing
we
. “And we’d appreciate any numbers you come up with for cash and stolen items.”

“I’ll make sure
the detachment
gets it.”

She stalked out, her shoes making heavy footsteps on the wood floor. Outside, the sun was fully up and the air was heating, promising another scorcher of a day. Scratch the hot shower. By the time she got home she would probably require a lukewarm shower just so she could cool off enough to sleep in her stuffy apartment.

The idea that Jake Symonds could be contributing to the elevated temperature didn’t bear thinking about.

Chapter Two

Jake rubbed the grit out of his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Another short night. He reached over and grabbed his iPhone beside the bed and checked the time. Nearly eight. Which wouldn’t be that bad on a normal night—except he’d had the damned nightmare again and had lain awake for too long, listening to the quiet. Even the peepers had stopped chirping some time during the night, and the hot air had been frustratingly still. The only thing he’d heard in the darkness was the odd transport truck up on the highway. The lack of noise only made the sounds in his head louder.

The dream wasn’t always the same, but it was always Khaterah’s face he saw. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes ugly. Sometimes he could see everything—her eyes, her smooth skin, the lush curve of her lips. Other times it was just the gleam of her eyes from the slit in her burka.

In the end though, the image was always the same. Blood and the dull stare of her eyes before he gently closed the lids forever.

Goddammit.

He shoved the covers off and got out of bed. No sense lying around and overthinking again. What was done was done. He’d gotten out after his last deployment and this was his reality now. His business. His family—he really should make more of an effort to see them.

But his business had a hiccup with the theft and his family…well, they always watched him very closely and asked him if he needed to
talk
.

What he needed was to forget. But the usual ways of forgetting hadn’t worked. He always woke up with a big head and a bad taste in his mouth, so he’d put himself on the other side of the bar instead, putting in long hours to keep the wolf from the door.

And the bar was doing well. He couldn’t say as much for the demons in his head.

He pulled on a pair of board shorts and a T-shirt, splashed some water on his face and felt better. Today was the one day of the week he stayed closed. He knew he probably lost business by closing on Sundays, but he’d never quite escaped the idea that Sunday was family day, as it had always been at home. Maybe he didn’t go for the family dinner around the table thing, but he knew his employees had families and friends, and they didn’t want to work all weekend long either. They deserved a quiet day the same as anyone else.

Today wasn’t a complete day of rest for Jake though. He’d agreed to co-sponsor a barbeque at a food bank fundraiser—flipping burgers and hot dogs was more his speed than face painting and dunking booths.

Though he thought it might be fun to put Kendra Givens on that particular hot seat. He’d bet anything she’d look sexy as hell dripping wet and mad.

The thought gave him a little boost as he grabbed a quick breakfast and began loading boxes and coolers into his truck. There’d been a moment that day over breakfast that she’d almost been friendly. Until she’d remembered she didn’t like him and turned all frosty again.

He slammed the tailgate of the truck with a satisfying thud. Not that he blamed her. He hadn’t exactly been a gentleman the night she’d slapped the cuffs on him and nudged him into the back of the police car. It hadn’t been his finest moment and he knew it. He wasn’t quite sure why she’d held the grudge so long though. She seemed to disapprove of everything he said and did, when he was just making an honest living. Running a pub in what was practically his home town was a far cry from the heat and dust of Afghanistan.

When he got to Stile Park the tents were set up already and volunteers hustled around organizing the various games and activities that would take place throughout the afternoon. Jake shook hands with a couple from the local grocery store who were co-sponsoring the food tents and began unloading the coolers of ice, filling them with soft drinks. At eleven, they fired up the grills and slapped on the first of the hamburgers. The crowd started coming—getting an entry hand stamp in exchange for a food donation. A local radio station fired up some music and the first small child sat up to get a unicorn painted on their cheek. Jake enjoyed himself for a while as all the smells of summertime filled the air and a slight breeze flowed through the awning that provided them with shade. He passed out food and replenished condiments and felt the restlessness of the morning slip away. Until he looked up and saw her.

Constable Givens. In her uniform. All five foot five inches of her—well, a little more than that with her cap perched firmly on her head. All pressed and starched and looking annoyingly official with her dark hair tightly braided, the slightly frayed end falling just below her collar.

“Hey, Jake, I think you might want to turn those burgers,” his grill-mate, Paul, said. He looked down, saw the edges were becoming a little too brown, and hurried to flip them over. Paul was cheerfulness personified as he used tongs to put hotdogs in buns and handed them over to a group of young boys with grubby faces and hands.

When Jake looked up she was gone from view. But her appearance had unsettled him. He wished he could say that she put a damper on his enjoyment, but it wasn’t true.

Truth was, he thought Constable Givens was pretty attractive, starchy uniform or not. It was designed for function and authority, and there was certainly nothing feminine about it or the equipment she was required to wear while on duty. He frowned as he put the burgers into waiting buns. Maybe it wasn’t feminine, and maybe it was all the years he’d spent in a uniform himself…but he found it sexy as hell.

“Looks like you’re cooking again.” Her voice surprised him, and he lifted his head to stare at her. The coolness from their previous encounter was gone, though it still felt quite
polite
rather than friendly.

“Looks like,” he replied.

“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” she remarked, grabbing a napkin from the stack on the table.

“Likewise.”

She looked up at him with clear blue eyes. “Why not? It’s pretty common for the detachments to show up at charity events.”

“More common than troublesome redneck pub owners?”

She pursed her lips and held out her plate for a hamburger. “I never said you were a redneck.”

He enjoyed sparring with her. She was a worthy opponent and he took his time choosing her burger from the ones on the warming rack. “You thought it.”

“No, actually I didn’t.” She moved down the line to get the ketchup and mustard.

“Troublesome pub owner then.”

She shrugged, and he chuckled. “Well, at least you’re not a liar,” he said.

“If you saw the call log for a typical weekend, you’d understand,” she replied. “It’s not personal.”

He didn’t believe her. “Come on, Kendra, of course it is. The night you threw me in the drunk tank you made a judgment, and nothing’s changed.”

She raised an eyebrow. Jake, however, turned away and smiled at a couple who were looking for lunch. Let her stew. He’d wanted to say that for some time now. He’d been a hellion that summer and he knew it, but it was over now.

He’d rather forget those months altogether.

When they were alone once more she spoke. “What am I supposed to think? You were running around the parking lot in your underwear, after picking a fight with a guy half your size. You’re lucky you didn’t get slammed with assault charges. You were an asshole, plain and simple. And when you came back for good, the first thing you did was open a bar, for God’s sake. Do you know the majority of my calls are drunk and disorderlies?”

He’d wanted to get a rise out of her and he’d succeeded, but her response made Jake’s temper start to stir. She knew nothing about him. Nothing. “So you disapprove of me and you disapprove of my kind of business. Got it. I guess that puts my case on the bottom of the list, right?”

Her face seemed unusually pale in the bright sunlight. “Of course not. It’s my job.” She sounded appalled that he would challenge her integrity that way, while she seemed to have no problem insulting his with every breath.

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