“Wouldn’t have been if I had my husband’s support.” I toss back at him.
I watch his face shift to hurt. “Heather,” Matt whispers. “It wasn’t like that.”
I roll my eyes and huff. While Stephanie takes her hurt out on me, I channel my anger toward Matt. “It was exactly like that. You left me. You moved out because I wasn’t willing to put my sister in that home. You made it so that I had no other choice in the end. We were supposed to be a team, but you . . .” I pause and try to get myself back under control. “You left.”
“You didn’t give me any choice!” Matt’s voice rises. “I was watching my wife drift away. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t make you happy. You act like I’m the villain here, but I had to sit around watching you lose yourself.”
I can’t believe him. “It was not about me or you, it was about her.”
“Take a minute to think about who left who, Heather. You were gone a long time before I walked out that door.”
Matt turns around and walks out. How fitting. It’s a different time, but the same result—he walks away first. We’ve had this fight before, several times, and each time, it reminds me of what a selfish dick he is.
“You ready to hit the road?” My partner Brody asks as he slaps me on the shoulder, breaking me from staring daggers at the door Matt walked through.
I sigh and relax. Thank God for Brody. He’s funny, gets my sarcasm, and is completely dependable. I know he has my back in the same way I have his. It’s a relationship that is essential between partners. Aside from Nicole, Kristin, and Danielle, Brody is my best friend. We’ve been riding together for the last seven years, and there’s no one in this world I trust more.
“Yup. I need lots of coffee today.”
“Do you need me to sing to you?” he asks with a smirk. “Heard that does it for you. Or do I have to be rich and famous?”
My heart freezes, and I squeeze my eyes closed, mortified. I completely forgot about the concert. It all comes back like a freight train. The singing, the dancing, the sex with Eli Walsh. How the hell could I forget that there are probably videos and . . . oh God.
I look around the break room and there, on the bulletin board, is a photo of me sitting on the stage with Eli singing to me.
Damn it.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I walk over and rip it down, trying to pretend as if I don’t care. “Real funny guys.”
“But,” Whitman, one of the idiots on my squad jumps in, “you’re my once in a lifetime girl.”
“Shut up,” I crumple the paper and toss it in the garbage. “You’re all tools.”
“We all know what you like, Covey. Maybe we should just pretend to be cops on television, then you’ll think we’re sexy.”
“You need to lay off the greasy food and lose some weight. Then maybe the half blind lady down the street will think you’re sexy.”
A few guys laugh, and jab his side.
“Yeah? Tell your boyfriend that we don’t all eat donuts! I work hard for this physique. Besides, we need to be in a boy band to get you tossing your panties at us.”
This is never going to end. The more I feed into them, the worse this will be. I grab the keys from Brody’s hand and walk off. They start to sing and yell at me, but I keep moving. Idiots. I work with idiots.
Brody climbs in the passenger seat and chuckles. “Oh, come on, Heather. We’re just having fun.”
“Clearly. It’s not that, though.” I toss my hat on the dash. “Stephanie had an episode, which is why I didn’t come in yesterday.”
Brody’s eyes soften, and he sighs. “I’m sorry. I figured you were recovering from your night of singing and drinking. Is she better?”
“She’s okay now, well, as okay as it gets for her.”
Brody was the one who helped me move Stephanie in to Breezy Beaches. He’s been more of a husband than Matt ever was. His wife Rachel has been great. I’m glad she and I have become as close as we are. There’s a very strange bond between partners, which can lead to a lot of questions, and I’ve seen more than one wife accuse her husband of cheating. I’ve also seen more than one occasion where she wasn’t wrong.
As much as I love Brody, it’s a brother-sister kind of love. I would take a bullet for him, but his “gun” isn’t going anywhere but in his holster.
“You should’ve called me, Rachel and I would’ve come to the hospital.”
“No.” I shake my head. “That would’ve been totally unnecessary.”
“Let me guess, you had it?” His tone is laced with sarcasm.
I turn the key in the ignition and start to drive. I’m not going to let him goad me. He’s way too good at it.
We drive toward the section we’re patrolling. Even with Matt being the asshole he is, he always puts me in the section near Tampa General Hospital, which is something that I should probably thank him for. At least I’m close if something changes with her condition.
Brody tells me about Rachel’s new kick with some crazy diet. She’s so pretty and already skinny, I don’t know what she’s thinking.
“Well, when you finally have kids, she won’t care.”
He gives me side eyes and grunts. “I’m not sure we’ll have kids.”
“Brody,” I touch his arm. “You need to let go of the past.”
Two years ago, Brody was in a horrific wreck. He was doing code and a driver plowed through the red light, T-boning his cruiser. It was a miracle he survived. It was one of the nights we were shorthanded and weren’t riding doubles. I’ve never been so scared in my life, and neither had Rachel. She was so terrified that the stress caused her to miscarry. Brody never recovered from that.
“Says the girl who refuses to date because she married an idiot. Hell, when’s the last time you even had sex?”
My cheeks burn, and I hope he isn’t looking at me.
“I know that look, Heather.” Brody shifts in his seat and laughs. “Who did you have sex with?”
“None of your business.”
Shit. He’s going to keep prying until I have to tell him just so he’ll shut up.
I focus on the road and want to throw my hands up hallelujah style when the radio cuts in.
“We have a report of a domestic in Hyde Park.”
Brody’s grin is gone, and he grabs the radio. “Car 186 is on it.”
“Central copies, dispatching the address now.” The dispatcher cuts out, and I flick the lights on.
I focus on the road as Brody gives directions. We head into the small upper-class suburb and pull in front of the house.
Both of us cautiously approach the door, we knock twice, and a woman opens the door with a smile.
“Hello, officers.”
“Good morning, ma’am. We got a call about a disturbance. Is everything all right here?” I ask.
She smiles warmly and opens the door. “Yes, my son is autistic, and well, sometimes he gets really loud. My neighbor behind us keeps calling. No matter how many times we explain that there’s nothing we can do but let him work it out, she continues to call the cops.”
“Do you mind if we come in?” Brody asks.
We’ve seen too many instances of a wife covering for her husband because she’s terrified of him.
“Of course,” she steps back, giving us room to pass. “Please, come in.”
“Thank you, Mrs. . . . ” I leave it open.
“Harmon. I’m Delia Harmon”
We step forward, and a boy around fourteen comes to the door, and I smile. “Hi.”
He stares off to the side and grunts.
“Sloane doesn’t speak, but he loves lights,” Mrs. Harmon explains. “It’s been a rough few months. His father took off a while ago, so it’s just us, but we’re doing fine. Aren’t we Sloane?” She looks adoringly at her son.
I smile, thinking of how lucky this boy is to have a mother like her. The way she stares at him reminds me of how my mother looked at me, and my mother was always brimming with love. Steph
anie and I were her life.
“Hi, Sloane,” I kneel in front of him and his eyes dart outside.
“Can you say hello to the police officers?” Delia encourages.
Sloane doesn’t say anything. Instead, he points to the cruiser outside. The look of wonder in his eyes is shining bright. He starts to pull on her arm while she tries to pull him back.
“Would he like to see the police lights?” Brody asks, breaking his silence.
“Oh, he’d love that.”
Brody and I spend the next few minutes with Mrs. Harmon and Sloane. We show him the lights and watch as the joy spreads across his face. He seems much calmer, and I wish there were more we could do for him. Inevitably, another call comes in and we have to leave. Sloane starts fussing, and I know it’s only going to get worse. He wants us to stay, and I hate that we are leaving Mrs. Harmon to calm him down.
We head back on the road, and our day is filled with bullshit calls. Two traffic accidents, a possible shoplifter who ended up being the owner’s daughter, and a police report for a stolen car. Paperwork sucks.
“Do you mind if we stop in and check on Steph?”
“You know I don’t.”
Brody calls in that we’re on break, and we head over.
When we get to the turn in by Tampa General, a sleek, black Bentley comes peeling out of the side street, almost hitting two cars in the process.
“Oh, hell no,” I say and flip the lights and sirens on. “I hate these assholes on this side of the island. They all think they can do whatever they want.”
Having money doesn’t mean you’re above the law.
Brody and I approach the car and the tinted windows lower.
“License, registration, and insurance,” I say without looking at the driver.
“Sorry, officer,” a familiar voice causes my eyes to lift. I stare into the green irises I doubt I’ll ever forget. A five o’clock shadow paints his face, and the sun only makes everything seem brighter. His mouth turns into a radiant smile, and my heart begins to race. “I was on my way to see someone. But it turns out she came to me.”
Chapter Six
Heather
My life . . . is . . . a freaking comedy show.
There’s nothing I’ve done to deserve this amount of bad karma. I’ve been a good friend, sister, daughter, I uphold the law, and I’m a good person by most people’s standards.
What the hell have I done to have this happen to me?
I release a deep breath and go back into work mode. “Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?”
“Are you going to pretend you don’t know me?” Eli asks with his brow raised.
“Mr. Walsh, we all know who you are. However, that doesn’t mean that nearly colliding with two vehicles is acceptable.”
Eli looks over at Brody. “What’s up, man? Is she always this way?”
“You two old friends?” Brody asks.
I clear my throat. “License, registration, and insurance . . . please.”
I somehow get the words out without squeaking or sounding unstable. Brody laughs, and it takes everything I have not to look at him. I hate him right now.
“Sure thing, Officer Covey.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” I warn as I take the paperwork from him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right here, Heather. I don’t run away.”
Bristling at his words, I walk away, feeling Brody’s gaze on me. There’s no doubt that as soon as we get back in the car, I’m going to get it—good.
Instead, Brody stays quiet while I assemble the paperwork. He may not be speaking, but he’s saying a whole lot in the silence.
“Just say it,” I mumble and finally look over.
“I’m not saying a word.” He raises his hands. “Clearly, you two know each other, and it ain’t from growing up here. You tell me everything, so there is no way you wouldn’t have told me you know him,” Brody pauses and leans back. “I’m not saying a word about who you may or may not have slept with recently. Even though, it’s pretty obvious.”
“You know, you not saying a word took you a long time.”
“It’s not like you’ve had a five-year drought since your divorce. Or that you slept with a singer/actor. Nope. I have nothing to say about that. Not a thing.”
I groan. “Could you not say anything for real this time?”
“Sure thing, boss. I’ll just be over here, watching Hell start to thaw.”
This is not going to get any better. I’d almost rather hear the questions. This is Brody Webber. My partner, my friend, and the one person who I have enough dirt on to make his life hell if he repeats this.
“Okay, fine. Yes, I slept with Eli Walsh. I was crazy and dumb. I also had about six beers, which is two over my threshold, and I was trying to be in the moment for once. Fucking Nicole and her pep talks.”
Brody coughs a laugh and then recovers. “Sorry, go on.”
“I swear, you better keep this to yourself. If you tell anyone . . .” I give him my best threatening face. “I mean anyone, I’ll make your life a living nightmare.”
He shakes his head and laughs again. “I won’t say a word, but you had a one-night stand with one of the most famous men in the boy band atmosphere. You’re too cool for me, Heather. I don’t think we can be friends. I’m sure you and the band will be happy without me.”
I huff and grab the papers. “I’m getting a new partner.”
I walk back over to the car, praying this will be painless. “I’m not going to ticket you this time,” I explain.
“Because that would be awkward since I’ve seen you naked?”
Oh Jesus.
I ignore the comment and proceed as if he didn’t say that. “Just slow down, Mr. Walsh.”
“It’s Ellington.” He takes my hand in his as I hand the papers back. “I figure since we’ve you know . . . had sex and all . . .” He pauses and gives me a blinding smile before continuing, “You should at least call me Ellington.”
Thanks to my obsession, I know most things about him, but I truly didn’t know his full name. I guess back when I was searching for info, Google wasn’t what it currently is. Now, though, I feel like he let me in on some secret.
“Fine, Ellington, please drive safe.”
“We should talk about what happened the other night.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Eli grips my hand as I start to pull back. “Dinner.”
“What?” I ask with shock.
“Have dinner with me.”
Is he for real? He wants to have dinner with me after I ran out? Either he’s crazy or I’m still dreaming. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m really busy.” I tug my hand back and smooth my uniform shirt. “Make sure you don’t run anyone off the road.”
“For you, Heather, I’ll drive with both hands on the wheel and follow the speed limit.”
“Oh, so you’ll actually obey the law?” I smile without permission. Damn him.
He leans so his head is out the window. “I have a feeling you and I will be seeing each other again.”
“I don’t think so.”
In fact, I know we won’t. I know that I’ll never pull over his car again, and he doesn’t know anything about me other than my name and that I’m a cop. Okay, so maybe he knows a lot more than I’d like. Still, there’s no reason for him to talk to me again. Ever.
“You and your partner be safe on the job. I hate seeing fellow officers in the line of fire.”
My body twists, and I scoff. “You’re not a cop. You play a cop on television.”
“I have a badge.”
“It’s fake.”
Eli reaches across the seat and puts his “badge” on his lap. “Doesn’t look fake to me.”
I roll my eyes. “We both know that’s not real. Also, impersonating a police officer is a crime.”
“Are you going to arrest me?” Eli asks with a coy smile.
“You’re not worth the paperwork.”
With that, I turn and start to walk away. I don’t get too far when I hear him yell, “I’ll see you soon, Heather.”
Brody leans against the car with a huge grin on his face. I point at his chest and warn him again. “Not a word.”
He chuckles and climbs in the car. “You better pray no one at the station hears about this.”
I groan and rest my head on the seat. “I sure know how to complicate things.”
“Yeah, you sure do.”
With that, we both fall silent as I drive to the hospital. Brody and I walk to Stephanie’s room without commenting further on my life choices. It’s the one saving grace in my job, guys don’t want to talk about it all. Brody lets me say what I need to say, and then once he’s had his input, he’s done. I don’t have three-hour-long discussions to analyze the “why” of things with him. Nicole, who I’m sure is dying to grill me for details, is the exact opposite.
I make a mental note to avoid her as well.
As soon as I see Steph, I can tell she’s doing better. The shades are open, and she’s sitting on the guest chair and looking out at the water. Her hands are steady, and the overall mood in the room is lighter. But I know my instincts are correct when I see Stephanie’s big smile as we enter. “Brody!” she practically squeals.
Stephanie has had a crush on him for as long as I can remember. If I didn’t see him as an annoying guy who has gas issues, I probably would think he’s hot, too. He’s tall, has dark blue eyes, a chiseled jaw, and he oozes confidence.
“Steph!” He grins and pulls her into his arms. “You’re looking hot.”
I fight back slapping him, but I know he’s trying to make her happy. He is all too aware of her affections, and I’m grateful he doesn’t ever make her feel silly.
Rachel thinks it’s cute as well.
I think it’s ridiculous.
“Stop,” she says as the blush paints her cheeks. “How’s work?”
Brody fills her in on the call we just came from, and she clutches her chest. I could leave the room, do handstands, or juggle and she wouldn’t notice. When he’s around, he’s all she sees. He’s the only man in her life that doesn’t treat her like she’s dying.
“But the best part,” Brody leans in and my eyes widen, “was when your sister pulled over a famous actor!”
We Own Tonight Page 5