by V. K. Powell
“Oh crap. I forgot. The children’s festival. Some of the nurses are providing general health advice to parents. How could I forget?” The event was a big deal for the department, Fairview Station, and for Ben’s and Jazz’s careers. They needed to establish the flagship station as a go-to venue for community gatherings, and the festival was the premiere event. She’d promised to be there for moral support along with the rest of the family.
Bennett stopped her from reaching for a coffee cup and steered her toward the bathroom. “We’ll have coffee at the station. Clothes. Now. And don’t think I’ll forget the woman part of this conversation.”
“There is no woman and no conversation.” While she pulled on jeans and a pale-yellow blouse, Dylan rehearsed explaining to the older, more experienced version of herself that she wasn’t thinking about a woman she couldn’t stop thinking about. The explanation was simple. Hormones. She hadn’t had sex in months, so seeing two women together caused a chemical reaction in her body that needed attention. She brushed her hair, checked out her attire in the mirror, and then rushed past Bennett out the door.
G-ma, Mama, and Stephanie, Simon’s wife, waited in front of the house in the Ma Rolls van, and Dylan headed over to speak with them, but Bennett nudged her from behind. Dylan barely had time to wave to Simon and the twins, Ryan and Riley, sitting in his white fire department vehicle, before Bennett tugged her to the passenger door of her police cruiser.
“Stop pushing.” Dylan settled in and strapped the seat belt around her. “So, everything in place for the festival?”
“Fingers crossed. Jazz recruited volunteers to help set up this morning. She just texted. Folks are already arriving. If the weather holds, it’ll be a great day.”
“Our sister is nothing if not efficient. Is Shea coming with the Robinsons?” The ten-year-old child that Jazz had found wandering the downtown streets had won Jazz’s heart; been fostered by Louis Robinson, the Fairview Station custodian; and become an extended part of the Carlyle clan.
“Of course. Louis came in early to get everything spotless and said Shea was up at daybreak, skipping around, asking a million questions. I can’t wait to see her again. It’s been a couple of months, but Jazz keeps me updated.”
“She really bonded with that kid. Any trouble from Shea’s father, Joshua Spencer?” Dylan had been young when the Carlyles adopted Jazz and couldn’t imagine being without her biological family, but Jazz had turned out great and would help Shea through her transition.
“Nope. Hopefully, he’s gone back to Atlanta to be with his brother, Jeremy, and other family. Not much left for him here with Shea being adopted soon. I hope he doesn’t show up at the last minute and contest the adoption.” Bennett cocked her head toward Dylan. “So, baby sister, back to this woman you’re not going to think about.”
Dylan pretended to pick something off the front of her blouse so Bennett couldn’t read her. “Just a run-in at work last night. No big deal.”
“Come on, Dylan. When I walked into the cottage this morning, your mind was in La-la Land. If your music didn’t distract you, it’s at least a medium deal.”
Most of the time she loved that Bennett knew her so well. Being called Ben’s mini-me was more often a blessing because she idolized her older sister, but sometimes the mind meld thing was too much. “I walked in on a police officer servicing one of our nurses in the on-call room during duty hours last night.”
Bennett stiffened beside her. “One of mine?”
Uh-oh. She’d said the wrong thing. Bennett ran a tight station, and anything jeopardizing that professionalism was unacceptable to her. “I have no idea.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively, the car suddenly seeming to close in around her. “That’s not the point anyway.”
“So, which one got under your skin? As if I have to ask. You’ve dated a few nurses and doctors in the past, but never a police officer. I’d take offense if I didn’t understand you so well.”
“It wasn’t an attraction thing. At all.” Bennett’s eye roll told her she wasn’t buying it. “Seriously, what self-respecting person engages in sex while they’re supposed to be working in a space where they could easily be discovered? It felt…unseemly.”
Bennett quirked her mouth into a sideways grin. “‘Unseemly?’ Who uses that word? Unless you’re trying too hard to convince yourself you weren’t attracted to this officer. Who is she? I assume it was a she?”
“Of course, it was a woman. You don’t think I’d be—”
“Caught you.”
Dylan blew out a long, frustrated breath. “And everybody wonders why I don’t date cops. After living with them all my life, I should be used to the lack of privacy. I can’t even think without being interrogated.” Bennett tried to slide her arm around Dylan’s shoulder. She pulled away. “Stop it. You tricked me with your cop-ish, voodoo mind games.” She wiggled her fingers at Bennett. “So uncool.”
“Is privacy really what you’re upset about, kiddo? Something about this woman got to you.” Bennett parked beside Jazz’s police vehicle in the Fairview Station lot and turned to face Dylan. “Who is she?”
“Sorry, Ben, gotta bounce.” Dylan opened the door and bolted.
“To be continued,” Bennett called after her.
“Nope,” Dylan mumbled as she sprinted toward the festival area. Finley Masters raised too many questions in Dylan’s mind and aroused too many sensations in her body to be a safe topic of conversation with anyone.
The grassy picnic area behind the station was dotted with brightly colored tents, booths, and games, converting it into a kids’ playground. From the size of the crowd, the event was going to be a big success. Dylan smiled at a face painter applying tiger stripes to a child’s cheeks and at the joy in the girl’s eyes.
“Hey, glad you made it,” Kerstin said as she and Emory, wearing orange reflective traffic vests, walked toward Dylan, arms spread for a group hug. Her sisters chose perfect partners—Kerstin’s creativity, idealism, and blond good looks suited Bennett’s down-to-earth style perfectly; and Emory’s compassion and nurturing nature, plus her auburn waves and gentle curves were everything Jazz said she wanted. Maybe one day Dylan would meet someone who felt just as right for her.
“Sorry. Long night in the ER. Ben dragged me out of bed.” She pointed to the traffic vests. “Way to accessorize.”
“Don’t laugh,” Emory said. “When Jazz sees you, you’ll be sporting one too. They’re actually helpful so parents and kids recognize us as staff if they have questions. My fiancé thinks of everything.” She glanced across the yard and caught Jazz’s gaze and a look of love passed between them.
Kerstin laughed. “Everything except a wedding date apparently. Ben set our date before she proposed. Cocky cop. We’re all just eager for you to become an official part of the family.”
“Don’t blame Jazz,” Emory said. “Once this event is over, we’ll pick the date.”
“Excellent.” Dylan nodded toward the festival. “It looks like a good turnout. Hope the weather holds.” She pointed toward a dark cloud in the east. “Fingers crossed that will pass. Keep your eye on the weather app. Guess I better report for duty and get my glamorous vest.”
“We’ll see you behind the magic tent. The three-legged sack races are about to begin.” Emory squeezed her arm affectionately before she and Kerstin walked away.
“Be still my heart.” Dylan turned toward where she’d seen Jazz and bumped into someone. “Sorr—” Her mouth stopped working when she looked up into Finley Masters’s grinning face and blue eyes.
“I know you like me, but heart-stopping isn’t good, Doc. Do you need CPR?”
“Uh…” She made herself breathe slowly and maintain eye contact. Finley’s fitted uniform and mop of unruly hair reminded Dylan of a chocolate covered Dreamsicle. Why did this particular blonde look so damn good in black? Dylan’s mind finally engaged. “If I do, there’s a medical tent on site.”
For once Finley didn’t have a snappy c
omeback. She nervously hooked her thumbs in her utility belt, and Dylan glimpsed vulnerability she hadn’t seen last night. Then Finley flashed a cocky smile. “Um, it’s good to see you again, Dylan…under different circumstances.”
Why did she have to say that? Visions of Finley naked from neck to ankles and pumping her perfect ass against Nurse Anita made Dylan flush. Her dreams last night hadn’t done Finley justice. “What are you doing here?” Dylan lost concentration when Finley smiled revealing a scar in her chin beneath her plump bottom lip.
“Police function. Public relations. Sucking up to the bosses for career advancement. Take your pick. I volunteered weeks ago when Lieutenant Perry came to lineup asking for help. Why are you here?” For a second, Dylan thought Finley might be kidding, but before she could answer, Finley added, “Oh, right. You’re a doctor. Medical tent.”
“I’m not really here in an official capacity. I’m supporting my family.” Why was she explaining herself to Finley?
A tall officer who’d been standing beside Finley with a young boy elbowed her in the ribs. “Dude, seriously? She’s not just a doctor.” He pointed to the station signboard near the side entrance. “This is Dylan Carlyle, baby sister to Bennett and Jazz, our bosses.”
Finley’s grin vanished and her face paled. “Oh shit…” She glanced at the boy. “I mean crap. You’re one of those Carlyles?”
“Not the baby part but still the sister.” Dylan started to fire off another snarky comment, but the surprised look on Finley’s face stopped her. She really hadn’t known who Dylan was.
The man beside Finley offered his hand. “Since my friend has temporarily lost her ability to speak, which doesn’t happen often and for which I’m grateful, I’m Hank Hinson and this is my son, Robin.” He ruffled the child’s blond hair.
Dylan shook Hank’s hand and fist-bumped Robin. “Nice to meet you both.” She stooped to Robin’s height. “How old are you?”
“Ten.”
“I have a niece and nephew about your age. They’re over at the basketball court, if you want to join them. You’re going to have a great time.” She stood again and addressed Hank, purposely avoiding Finley’s stare. “I really have to go. Enjoy.”
If Finley truly hadn’t known who Dylan was, she was probably mortified about their first meeting. And the more time they spent dancing around each other like awkward teenagers, the greater chance Ben, Jazz, or another family member would notice and sniff out how they’d met, which could lead to discipline for Finley. Dylan wasn’t interested in those two parts of her life colliding in that particular way.
As Dylan walked away, Finley raced to catch up and fell in step like she’d done at the hospital. “Could we talk…about what happened last night? I had no idea who you were. Really, no idea.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I’d rather just forget it.” She glanced around to make sure none of her family was close. This dyke drama would draw them like ants to a picnic. “Good-bye.”
“But if my bosses find out—”
“What do you want, a blood oath?” Dylan walked faster. She understood Finley’s anxiety, but someone would surely notice that they weren’t complete strangers if they continued. “They won’t hear it from me. I don’t like keeping secrets from my family, but in this case, it wouldn’t help either of us. Trust me on that.”
“Thanks,” Finley said. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Dylan picked up her pace again to get away from Finley, and her heart rate climbed as well. “And stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Walking with me.”
Finley grinned. “We just happen to be going in the same direction.”
Dylan inhaled a deep breath before launching into another attempt to get rid of Finley but instead got a lungful of her sporty cologne. Damn. Dylan wanted to sprinkle Finley’s fragrance in her bed and roll like a dog in her owner’s scent. What? “Look, I really need to go. Good-bye, Officer Masters.”
“Maybe I could treat you to a soda later, when things slow down.”
“No thanks.”
“You don’t drink soda? How about cotton candy or a candy apple? We’ve got it all.”
Oh yeah, Finley definitely had it all—fresh lines, the strut, confidence, and looks—but a perfect package sometimes masked an unwanted surprise. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Finley asked. “I like you. And I think you like me too, maybe just a little.”
Dylan stopped and faced Finley squarely, making eye contact. She didn’t beat around the bush where feelings were concerned, hers or anyone else’s. “Look, Finley, maybe I do like you just a little in spite of your arrogance. You have game—too practiced to be authentic—but still charming. But whatever you’re hoping for here isn’t happening. Don’t waste your time.”
“God, I love a woman who tells it like it is. Okay.” She held her hands up and took a step back. “So long for now. I’ll find you later.” Finley gave her a slight bow and strutted off.
“Not if I can help it,” Dylan mumbled under her breath and weaved her way through a crowd of people toward the race area. “Not a cop. Not this cop. Not even for a fling.” She ruthlessly ignored the quickening of her pulse.
Chapter Three
“Damn, woman, you’re playing with fire,” Hank said as he and Robin caught up with Finley. “What’s going on with you and Dylan?”
Finley squeezed Robin’s shoulder and pointed to the basketball court behind the new station where kids were already playing. “Why don’t you check your skills on the court?”
“So you can do more grown-up talk?”
“You know it, smart guy,” Hank said. “We’ll be watching, so do us proud.”
Robin high-fived Finley and joined a group of kids engaged in a game.
When Robin was out of hearing range, Hank said, “Fucking around with the boss’s sister is a really bad idea, Fin. If you screw up, you’ll get a world of hurt from the captain and lieutenant, and you can kiss any promotion or transfer hopes good-bye.”
Finley raised her hands. “Hold on. I didn’t do anything.”
“Right.” Hank shook his head. “There was sex tension all over that little exchange just now. You forget who you’re talking to, pal.”
Hank had rescued her from one-nighters gone wrong on a few occasions and driven her home from a weekend getaway spoiled by her unwillingness to commit to her latest conquest. “It wasn’t like that.”
“So…” Hank cocked his head to one side. “What happened? Or if you don’t want to talk, I’ll leave you here with your dildo in your hand, join my son on the basketball court, and hope you don’t dig yourself in any deeper.”
“Okay. Hold up.” Finley slid her hands in her pockets. “Dylan saw me hooking up with Anita in the doctor’s on-call room last night. I…um…might’ve tried to hit on her, but I didn’t know who she was at the time.”
“You might’ve? Jeez, Fin, your life is a constant pussy prowl. I didn’t get as much strange my entire life as you have in the past few years. So…you made a pass. And?”
“She shut me down. Nothing happened.”
“Well, that’s new. Maybe she’s straight.”
“I didn’t get that vibe,” Finley said.
“So why was she in such a hurry to get away from you?” Hank’s stop-fucking-around stare from her field training days forced Finley to break eye contact. “Wait. Were you on duty? Fucking some nurse while you were working? And let me guess,” his lips thinned in an expression between disgust and despair, “somewhere you weren’t technically allowed to be.”
Finley nodded.
“Did I teach you anything at all? You’re determined to tank your career, and you’re afraid Dylan will tell the brass. Is that why you’re so hot to make nice with her?”
“No…not entirely. She promised she wouldn’t say anything, but…”
He scowled at her. “But what?”
Finley shrugged. “I like her.”
&nb
sp; Hank slashed his hand through the air in a cutting motion. “As one of the most famous cops of all time said, ‘Nip it. Nip it in the bud.’”
“Right, Barney Fife.” Finley grinned at the reference to the hapless Mayberry deputy, then shook her head. “But what if she’s the one?” She caught sight of Dylan across the fairground lining up for the three-legged sack race, tying her leg to another woman, and grinned. She’d been tracking Dylan since she arrived, noting how easily she spotted her in the crowd.
“Hey,” Hank said. “Are you listening?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Just because a woman saw you naked and didn’t jump your bones doesn’t mean she’s ‘the one,’ if there is such a thing.” Hank guided Finley closer to the basketball court, cheered when Robin made a basket, and then turned his attention back to Finley. “Think very carefully before pursuing this woman and how it could impact your career. You want to make detective sooner rather than later. Having a fling with the boss’s sister and tossing her aside can be a career-limiting move.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious, Fin. That hunter between your legs will get you in serious trouble one day. Promise me.”
“I promise,” Finley said, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d never met a woman so immune to her game and who called her on it the way Dylan had. She was a puzzle Finley wanted to solve. If nothing else, she wanted to know more about her…and maybe bed her at least once. Her blood stirred at the thought.
“I’m not buying that piss-poor excuse of a promise, but there’s nothing else I can do. It’s on you now.” Hank slapped her on the back and shoved her toward the court. “Let’s get sweaty. It looks good for the police to engage with the community.”
“Right, Coach.” She and Hank went to opposite teams and blended easily into the game. She caught a pass from Robin, dribbled down court, and passed it back to him for the basket.
Finley glanced around the fairgrounds and spotted Dylan engaged in the sack race. When their eyes met, Dylan suddenly wobbled sideways and fell to the ground taking the other woman with her. Finley was so focused on Dylan that she missed an inbounds pass, but recovered, dribbled down court, and fired off a three-pointer. Swoosh. Take that, Dylan Carlyle.
