My mom would tell Quentin to put something on over his shorts, but he’d just say that compression shorts were shorts, and that people wore them to bicycle on the roads all the time. He truly didn’t see the big deal, but then again he wasn’t looking at the big deal that the front of Kane’s shorts were trying so damn hard to contain.
No way was I going to look at my brother’s groin, but Kane’s? Another story entirely. And those seams looked double stitched and were made for contact sports, but they were straining to protect him from breaking free and I sure as hell wanted to have my own kind of contact sport with him.
As in my first time.
And I promised myself I’d save it for him in case there was ever a chance. I gave myself one deadline. If he got engaged, it was over. I wouldn’t fantasize or think something might ever exist between us.
But as far as I knew he never even had a girlfriend, let alone anyone serious.
And I was seriously considering how I was going to keep my hands to myself up here at my new job in San Francisco.
Kane was so close, and my brother wasn’t. I had my own job now and was living alone. My apartment might be small, and it would certainly be so for his six foot five plus frame, but it was wide enough for us to get horizontal.
And horizontal is what my phone is right now as I pull it from my backpack and place it on the table, staring at it waiting for his call.
What’s he going to say?
Is he going to apologize for today?
How could he? It wasn’t his fault. It was a mix-up. And he did everything to protect me.
If he hadn't been there I would have had a mouthful of grass at the time and burns on my wrists from the cuffs right now.
And was that guy really going to tase me? I’ve heard those things can send you into cardiac arrest.
And I don’t need any help having a heart attack. Just seeing him today put me close enough.
Now how do I get closer to him?
CHAPTER 3
Kane
“Were you trying to sabotage the operation, officer?” the chief says as he looks at me incredulously as I stand at attention before him.
“No, sir. I knew we’d misidentified the suspect and I took action.”
“Took action? Are you fucking kidding me?” I keep my eyes locked straight ahead, but I can still see his line of sight drift from my eyes to my badge. He purses his lips and shakes his head.
“I ought to take that badge away from you myself.” He pauses. “Son, you’re a good cop. Your track record speaks for itself, but today you tackled a fellow officer. Never in my thirty-seven years with the department have I ever seen that kind of behavior between two men in uniform, and especially not in front of civilians.”
“We weren’t in uniform, sir. It may not sound believable but I took that into consideration before I acted.”
“Oh! So that makes all the difference. And to me this just makes it sound more calculated.”
“No, sir. It was reactionary, but I still thought through my actions in the time it took to dart across the promenade to her.”
“So you did think this through?”
“There was no thinking required, sir. I knew she wasn’t the one we were looking for.”
The chief picks up a manila folder on his desk and takes a step toward me hitting me in the chest with it. “It says here in your own report that you admit to knowing this suspect.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you have a personal bias towards her that you let interfere with your job…the one the city pays you to do. The one the taxpayers are counting on you to perform with a clear mind…and you obviously aren’t living up to their standards, nor mine, are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief’s eyes narrow as he gets right up in my face. He tries to get me to break my concentration and focus. He tries to get me to make eye contact with him, but I won’t. I’m too disciplined. I have that stone cold “thousand yard stare” down pat. I grit my teeth and prepare for what’s sure to come next.
“The more you speak the deeper you dig yourself a hole, officer. I advise you to shut the hell up right now. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you, sir, but I can’t do that. If it wasn’t for the ‘suspect’ as she’s being referred to, pointing out the true perpetrator we may have walked out of there with our cover blown and our hands empty. Instead we got exactly what we were looking for and from what I understand the bust has already linked them to the cartel and we have the evidence we’ve been after for years. The one that makes this a slam dunk for the prosecutor. And if I may add, there were some mistakes made in the setup today…administrative mistakes that would have gotten this whole thing thrown out of court and would have made us really look like we don’t know what we’re doing. But, because of Quinn…I mean Ms. Quarles, we removed the entrapment angle that the perp’s lawyer would have worked to death, and without a doubt gotten the case thrown out of court because of. Since we were there and because we tried to apprehend Ms. Quarles first, we’d have the fall back on the error of the misidentification.”
The chief just continues to stare. “Are you a lawyer or something?”
“I haven’t passed the bar, but I know a little bit…enough that we couldn’t illegally search her backpack.”
“We’ll see how smart you are when the end of your suspension comes.”
“Suspension, sir?”
“Your badge, Kane.”
I can’t believe what’s happening. My hand won’t even move.
“Hand it over.”
I’ve never been so pissed off in my entire life. I take my badge and hand it to the chief.
“And your weapon.”
I remove the magazine and the one in the chamber and give that to him to.
“And you’ll take your service animal to the kennel until you’re cleared for duty…if you’re cleared for duty again.”
“Malia is my personal property, sir.” It sounds ludicrous referring to her like that but damn straight…she’s mine.
“She’s a service dog and you will turn her in.”
“I found her on personal time. Made her mine on personal time. And even trained her on personal time. I was told a malamute wouldn’t be a good choice for a drug dog so I took it upon myself to train her. I took her all the way to Lackland Air Force Base down in San Antonio while I was on leave to get her trained. And now she’s the best dog we’ve got…and she’s my dog,” I growl.
Might as well go for broke at this point. I’m already suspended to start with and there’s no way anyone’s taking Malia from me.
I’m a part of her pack and she’s a part of mine…just the two of us. She would fight to the death for me and I’d do the same.
Hell, I’d drive down to Mexico tonight and then fly out to a country without an extradition treaty if I had to. I don’t give a damn.
I did what was right and if my “employer” doesn’t give a damn about that then fuck ‘em!
The chief looks me up and down. He can surely see that I’m dead serious about this and at least some sense comes through that thick skull of his and enters his brain.
“Get out of my office,” he says.
I execute an about face and head straight to the lockers, which I quickly dent when I deck one so hard the entire door comes loose.
“Damn Kane. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Malia not putting out?” one of the officers on the shift change says.
I turn, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against one of the lockers I haven’t busted up yet.
“Talk about my dog again and I’ll make you my bitch, bitch,” I say.
“I…was…just…joking, man,” he manages to cough out. I stare into his eyes letting him know I’m not playing around. Never have and never will.
I bring my hand down as his back slides down the locker.
I grab my stuff and jam it into my duffel bag, leaving my uniform hangi
ng in the locker. I may not respect the chief very much right now, but I respect the department and what the badge stands for. One guy won’t change that for me.
And I never liked that prick anyways.
I move hastily towards the locker room door and the group of bodies between me and it part like the Red Sea.
I put my hand into the door slamming it open and as I exit I feel it make contact with something, but I just push my way through anyways.
As I walk toward the front doors I see a reflection in the glass of the chief holding his nose.
Serves him right.
And his pride is too big to say I hurt him anyways.
Not to mention I’m suspended so what is he going to do with me now?
But I know exactly what I’m going to do with myself right now.
I pull out my phone and dial Quentin.
I’m getting his sister’s number and I’m getting in my Jeep and getting over to her place and letting her know none of this is her fault.
And I’m also letting her know she’s mine.
“Right Malia?” I say as she sits patiently in the passenger seat guarding my Jeep. I don’t even have to lock it or put the windows or the top up with her around.
She makes that moaning noise that malamutes do letting me know she agrees. I swear I’m learning her language, as crazy as that sounds.
And Quinn is gonna think I’m crazy when I tell her she’s mine. Tell her what she did to me out there today. Tell her how my body reacted and how I froze up at the sight of her.
And tell her all the things I want to do to her.
Forever.
CHAPTER 4
Quinn
My phone flashes with a number I don’t recognize.
I put the spoon back inside the ice cream pint and place it on the table quickly as I sit up on the couch and clear my throat. I smile slightly knowing that it’s a bit corny, but true…the person on the other end of the call really can tell you’re smiling. And I want Kane to know I’m glad he called.
“Hello,” I say and I’m actually happy with the way my voice sounds for once.
“Quinn?” the deep voice says quickly.
“Yes. Who is this?” I say playing dumb.
“Quinn Quarles! You’ve won a five day four night stay for you and a guest in sunny Cancun!” the voice says in a much higher pitched toned.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” I say.
“Believe it! Start packing your bags because—“
I hang up the phone quickly. I know our computer learning is good at Facebook, but jeez…that stupid recording got me all excited that it was a real man on the other line. And not just any man.
Kane.
And then when I just said something under my breath it’s like it knew how to respond. That call center bot must have a good flowchart to work off of. Next time I’ll play along and see if I can learn something from it.
My phone lights up again.
Well, it knows I’m home so it’s probably trying again or defaulting to a different voice with a different author.
“Hello,” I say a bit standoffish.
“If I caught you at a bad time I can call back.” It’s him.
“No,” I say my feet coming up off the carpet and tucking them underneath me. “Now is okay. Now is…good.”
“Good, because I was never one to settle for okay, as you know.”
“I remember,” I say.
“Are you busy now?”
“I’m just getting caught up on a few things,” I say looking at the half-eaten pint of ice cream, the Netflix TV series I have paused on my TV, and some Sudoku puzzles I have lying next to me on the couch.
“Then I guess we can’t meet for a coffee.”
“I’m almost finished though,” I say. “Sorry about what happened today.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You’re not in any trouble over that are you?”
“No.”
“I’m not in any trouble either am I?”
“Not at all. But there are still some things we should go over.”
“Okay,” I say.
“It’s better if we talk about it face to face. I’m not a big phone guy and it’s not the kind of stuff you talk about over the phone anyways.”
“Got ya,” I say.
“I’m taking my dog Malia to the dog park now. Want to join?”
“How much time do I have to get ready?” I ask.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I look down at my lounging around the house clothes.
“Can you make it fifteen?”
“I’m five minutes away already.”
“How do you know where I live?”
“I’m asked your brother.”
“And you’re a cop,” I say realizing he has access to just about whatever he wants, although I know he’s not the kind of guy to abuse power and privileges.
He doesn’t say anything. Strange.
“Okay, I’ll be out front.”
“See you then,” he says and I hear the call end.
I scramble to my closet and grab for a pair of jeans that I hope will make my butt look cute. I throw on a top and a jacket knowing San Francisco gets so cold at night and run to the mirror to put on a touch of makeup.
I look up at the clock and realize ten minutes have already gone by. “Crap!”
Well, here goes nothing. I grab my keys and pull back the curtain. I see a dark colored Jeep by the curb and a man stroking an oversized dog which is lying in his lap. It’s so cute!
That must be him and that must be Malia. I got a pretty good look at her earlier today during the arrest, and my attempted arrest.
I open the door and grab the handrail as I go down the stairs, making sure not to slip or fall on my butt. Everything in SF seems so hilly, not to mention steep.
As soon as he sees me Malia’s head pops up and spins around and he’s out of the car and opening my door for me.
I can’t remember the last time that happened…if ever.
And forever is how long I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment.
Don’t blow it now, Quinn. Don’t blow it now.
CHAPTER 5
Kane
“How have you been?” I ask, but what I really want to do is skip all the talking and put a ring on her finger right now and get started on making a family with her.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since the moment I saw her through that sagebrush and I know this is a lot more than lust.
I know her brother. I know her family. I know what kind of a person she is.
She’s a great person…and she’s mine.
“Good. I can’t believe what happened today.”
“I can,” I say.
“You can?”
I turn and look and lock my eyes on her as she stares at me.
I can believe because she’s the one.
Maybe it’s because I’m thirty years old.
Maybe it’s because there is a certain familiarity and trust with her.
Maybe it’s just because that’s how things were meant to be.
I’ve been a police officer long enough to know fate is real. There have been times when we’ve been shot at and our bulletproof vests will just catch the round, or it will miss us entirely by less than an inch. Times when are timing is perfect and we catch a guy at the airport just as he was leaving to run off to the Caribbean or somewhere else to try and hide and avoid charges.
But fate when it comes to the one?
I never believed in that because I never thought about it. I thought that was just something Hollywood put in movies to get female viewers.
Damn, was I ever wrong.
All those action movies where there’s some part where the hero falls hard for the girl? Those scenes always seemed so forced, unnecessary, and distracting.
And they never made sense to me.
Until now.
Because apparently that stuff doesn’t just happen to heroes of the silver screen. I guess real life “heroes” are prone to it to.
Possessive K-9 Cop: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 74) Page 2
