Officer on Duty (Lock and Key Book 4)

by Ranae Rose

  He slipped Paige another bill when his mother wasn’t looking. “For dinner.”

  Paige gave him a hug before they left, and so did his mother, muttering about him telling them to be careful, suggesting that he follow his own advice.

  As much as he loved them both, he was glad to have some peace and quiet – something that was often in short supply when his mother was around.

  He soaked up about half an hour of it, staring at the TV without really watching, and then a knock came at the door.

  * * * * *

  “Hey,” Lucia said when Jeremy answered the door. “I didn’t think you’d be here yet.”

  She’d just gotten home from work, and since he kept his cruiser parked in his garage, she hadn’t known he was there.

  “Got off early today.”

  She reined in her smile by a few watts as a fluttering sensation filled her belly. She hadn’t been expecting him to be home, but she certainly didn’t mind.

  “Well, I was just at your mom’s place, but nobody answered. I saw that your lights were on and thought she and Paige might be here. I have something for them.”

  She held up a piece of paper.

  “What is it?”

  “Just some info on a women’s self-defense course they’re offering at the aquatic center. They’re holding it in the fitness part of the facility, and it’s free to any female Riley County resident. An ex-military martial arts expert volunteered to teach it. You know, with everything that’s going on…”

  He took the flyer. “When is it?”

  “It starts in just a few days. We’re trying to spread the word far and wide. They’ll be printing a notice in the paper tomorrow, so slots might fill up fast. Paige and Meredith can sign up online ahead of time to reserve spots if they’re interested.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do my best to talk them into it. What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “You gonna take the course?”

  “Yeah, and I’m encouraging the girls in my juniors’ class to attend it with me.”

  “Good.” His eyes locked with hers, the clear blue allowing her to see how deeply serious he was.

  “Do you know something I don’t – something about whoever killed those women?”

  “I don’t know who did it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Hmm. But you know something. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. I’ve been perfecting my poker face for the past dozen years.”

  “Light eyes are transparent. More expressive, most of the time. You may know how to keep the rest of your face under control, but if I get close enough, I can read your eyes like a book.”

  It was only a slight exaggeration. His eyes were expressive. Sometimes, she saw something there that made her body temperature rise by several degrees. She wasn’t sure if it was a meaningful attraction, or just a man looking at a woman he found pleasing to the eye, but it gave her butterflies anyway.

  “Hell, if that’s not a terrifying thought, I don’t know what is.”

  She grinned. “Why? Have something to hide?”

  He held her gaze for a heartbeat, then another.

  She saw that certain something in his eyes, and her skin tingled all over.

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I’d want my every thought on display, either. Especially not if you were the one doing the reading.”

  She realized her grin had faded. In its place, there was nothing but a hot blush. She had to resist the urge to touch the tip of her tongue to her lips.

  He still looked so deadly serious. And those eyes were still locked on her. It was only because she was staring back that she noticed the twinge of pain that twisted his features for a split second when he shifted his weight.

  Her gaze dropped of its own accord, all the way to his feet.

  He wore jeans, and they were a light enough shade of blue that she could see a dark spot on the denim, halfway up his shin.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said, her gaze snapping back up to his. “What happened to your leg?”

  He looked down and grimaced, his expression clearly saying: shit.

  “Got a little scraped up at work today.”

  Her eyes widened. “Did it have anything to do with what’s been in the news lately?”

  “No. Thought it might when I went out there, though.”

  “What happened?”

  He looked past her and frowned. “Come on in. You shouldn’t be standing around in doorways. It’s getting dark.”

  She took one look at his expression, thought of the two dead women, and stepped inside.

  Not that being in his home was a hardship, by any stretch.

  “Do you have any Band-Aids?” She nodded at his leg.

  “Don’t think that’s gonna cut it. I have some gauze and tape around here somewhere, though.”

  Her curiosity kicked up a few notches, along with a sense of suspicion. “How bad is it?”

  “Not too bad.”

  “Why don’t you let me take a look? I’m certified in first-aid.”

  “I already got it taken care of.”

  She arched a brow. “I can see that.”

  He sank down into a kitchen chair, one corner of his mouth twitching. “Well, if you’re going to get all sarcastic on me…”

  He rolled up his pant leg so slowly that it was evident he was really hurt. When he finished, she had to swallow a knot that’d formed in her throat.

  “Scraped up? You look like you rolled around in broken glass!”

  “Dog latched onto my leg. Idiot owner thought a baby gate could hold back an angry eighty pound animal.”

  She sucked in a breath, her gaze riveted to the red gashes that striped his shin and calf. The worst ones were held shut with rows of black stitches. One of the unsutured wounds was leaking blood.

  She grabbed a handful of paper towels from the counter and handed them to him. “What kind of dog was it?”

  “Mixed breed, so far as I could tell.” He pressed the paper towels against his bleeding wound.

  Red spread quickly through the stark white.

  “How the hell did you get away from it? It looks like it had a good hold on you.”

  “Richardson – that’s the new officer I’m training – got it with a Taser. It let go pretty quick after that, then ran back into its owner’s house. Animal control came by for it later.”

  “You’re lucky it didn’t go for your throat.” Her gaze gravitated to his neck, a column of muscle beneath the shadow of his stubble.

  A shiver raced down her spine.

  “I know it.”

  “Are you on antibiotics?”

  He nodded. “And the dog’s in quarantine. Everything that can be done has been.”

  The red kept spreading. The house was so quiet. Where was Paige?

  She asked, and he told her she’d gone to the movies with Meredith.

  Her pulse picked up after that, an irreverent sense of pleasure sweeping through her. They were alone.

  Of course, it was ridiculous to get excited, with him sitting there stitched together and bleeding.

  She frowned, thinking of him alone in his current state. “Where’s that gauze and tape you mentioned? I’ll get it for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  She waved a hand. “You’ll make a mess if you go walking around like that. Just let me know where to look.”

  “Drawer below the sink, in the bathroom.” He tipped his head toward the hall. “The door on your left.”

  The bathroom was modestly sized, but had a nice dark oak vanity. Two toothbrushes rested in a jar beneath the mirror – one green and one pink.

  The medical supplies were in the top drawer, just like he’d said. She selected a box of gauze pads, some tape and a small pair of scissors.

  “You sure you don’t want to head to the hospital and see if they’ll stitch it shut?” she asked when she returned to the kitchen.

 
They’d left the shallowest of the marks unstitched, but they all looked painful.

  “Nah. A little gauze and tape and it’ll be fine.”

  “It’ll scar.”

  “I wasn’t planning on entering any beauty pageants, anyway.”

  She laughed. Beauty pageants might be out of the question, but if there were a Hot Cop Award, he’d be a top contender, scars or no.

  “It’s all right then. The scars will just make you look tougher. Scare some sense into any criminals who might be thinking of messing with you.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “How do you figure that’ll work, exactly? Am I supposed to flash a little leg when a situation turns sour, or do you think the sheriff’s department will issue me a special pair of Capri uniform pants?”

  “Some cops wear shorts.”

  “City cops who ride bicycles. I’ll be damned if I’m going to trade in my cruiser for a bike, helmet and shorts.”

  “I always did think bicycle cops got the short end of the stick. I mean, whatever happened to horses? That seems like more fun.”

  “I’ll stick with four wheels and an engine. And pants.”

  She smiled, then opened the bandage box. “Can you even drive like this?”

  “Of course I can. It’s my left leg. But I’m off duty for now.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until my supervisor says I can come back. Hopefully not more than a day or two.”

  She frowned as she prepared a bandage. “You want to go back to work with your leg in stitches?”

  “Better than sitting on my ass flipping through daytime TV while people are being murdered.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was a workaholic, or just very protective of his hometown.

  “Hold still.”

  He caught her by the wrist just as she was preparing to position the bandage on his leg. “I’ve got it. God knows what kind of bacteria that dog had in its mouth.”

  He fixed the bandage himself, though they’d surely disinfected his wounds at the hospital.

  Assumedly, insisting on doing it himself was just his little way of being a macho man. Lucia might be single, but she’d grown up with three brothers.

  “So,” she asked when he’d rolled his pant leg back down, “are you going to tell me what the latest news on those women is?”

  The pained expression on his face lingered, and there was no telling whether it was because of his leg or the murders.

  “Some bloody footprints were left at the scene of the second homicide.”

  “And?”

  “They’re real small. Or at least, they would be if they were a man’s. They’re considering the possibility that Kaylee’s killer might be a woman.”

  “They weren’t just the victim’s footprints?”

  He shook his head, and she felt a little silly. Of course the crime scene investigators had thought of that.

  “Sorry – I’ve watched just enough forensics shows on TV to think I know a little something when I really don’t.”

  He flashed her a smile. “The killer being female isn’t definite. But it’s a possibility.”

  Why would a woman want to murder another female – possibly two of them? Neither Brianna nor Kaylee had been robbed, so it wasn’t like the crimes had been committed by someone coldhearted or desperate enough to kill for monetary gain.

  Why, then? For some sick sense of pleasure? It was rare for a female to do something like that, wasn’t it?

  Jeremy looked just as troubled as she felt. His face was smooth – well, except for the rugged stubble – but it showed in his eyes.

  Seeing all that conflict and worry stirred up in those gorgeous baby blues made the bottom drop out of her stomach. Seeing him unhappy made her want to reach out and touch him – fix it.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Being pestered for details about something so awful is probably the last thing you want after a sucky day at work.”

  He met her eyes and a little bit of that dark, brooding energy cleared.

  What replaced it sent a hot shiver rolling slow and merciless down her spine.

  “I’d be a liar if I said sitting down and talking to you was the last thing I wanted, regardless of the conversation topic.”

  Her belly clenched, squeezing the butterflies there. They’d been soaring lazily, but the pressure seemed to shoot them full of energy. Her entire body buzzed from head to toe with awareness.

  “You may have gotten the hint, with the excuses I’ve found to come over here and chat,” she said. “But I like talking to you too.”

  “I’ve never considered myself much of a conversationalist, but anytime you want to talk about stuff like the stupid reasons people get speeding tickets, or Capri pants vs. shorts … I’m here.”

  “Are you available for anything more than talking?”

  Maybe asking was a little clumsy, as far as flirting went, but he was her neighbor, and so were his daughter and mother. She didn’t want to risk misunderstanding and making things weird or complicated for any of them.

  “The only person who has any claim on me is Paige.” He smiled. “That’s a lot of responsibility, of course, but beyond that, I’m as available as it gets.”

  “I had to ask; it seemed too unlikely to just assume.”

  He laughed. “The only unlikely thing about this is you caring whether or not I’m available.”

  She arched a brow. “You’ve got to be kidding me. After a dozen years in law enforcement, I know you’ve got to realize that most women love a man in uniform.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt they’d love the paycheck that comes with it. Or the hours. Between my job and Paige, I don’t exactly have a lot of time left over to play Casanova.”

  “Maybe that’s for the best. If you did, you’d have women dropping at your feet left and right. It wouldn’t be fair to the ordinary men of Riley County.”

  His mouth curved in a wry smile, and he shook his head when it faded. “If my leg wasn’t so sore, I’d pinch myself just to make sure I was awake.”

  She grinned. “Really, though: you look so good in uniform, it’s almost criminal. And I know your job and fatherhood are both demanding. But it seems like you do get some time to yourself.”

  She gestured to indicate the empty house.

  “A little here and there.”

  She reached out and touched the hand he had resting on the table.

  He was hot, not warm, to the touch. Skin-to-skin contact made her ache to press more than her fingertips against him.

  Surprise arrowed through her when he turned his hand over and gripped her fingers. Tightly.

  When he leaned forward, the scrape of his chair against the tile failed to drown out the drumbeat of her speeding heart. It rang in her ears as he came close enough for her to smell, close enough that the dark stubble on his jaw tickled the corner of her mouth for a split second before their lips touched.

  Oh, God. His lips were hot heaven roughened by the scrape of all that dark stubble. It made the nerves running along her spine sing, lighting up the pleasure center in her brain, and sent the butterflies in her belly into absolute insanity.

  He kissed like he meant it, and his passion was fuel to her fire. When he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she realized she’d been holding her breath.

  She started breathing again, each breath more hard-won than the last. For every exhalation, her heart beat half a dozen times.

  Then he put a hand in her hair, and the pressure of his fingertips against her skull had her fighting a shiver. The feeling of his palm curving to conform to the back of her head felt even better. His fingers were tangled in her curls, and he held on like he didn’t mean to let go.

  But he did, eventually. He slid that hand slowly out of her hair, taking care not to pull. And their lips broke apart.

  She needed air, even if she didn’t want it. Fighting to steady her breathing, she met his eyes.

  He didn’t sweep her off her feet and back to his bed, or throw her ont
o the table in a fit of passion, like in a movie. He just held her gaze, and the hunger she saw there surprised her, even after the way they’d kissed.

  It was controlled, but raging. His light eyes showed her that, transparent as glass, and everything below her belly tightened.

  Part of her wished he would sweep her off her feet, but of course, his leg was too badly wounded for that kind of theatrical exertion.

  Another part of her enjoyed the thrill of seeing him look at her like this. Of watching desire smolder in his eyes, a slow burn she felt in every fiber of her being.

  “How painful is your leg?” she asked.

  “I don’t remember.”

  She laughed. “Seriously.”

  “It’s not too bad.”

  Not too bad to stop this, his expression said.

  She touched his good leg, letting her fingertips brush his thigh.

  His muscle was firm and taut beneath his jeans. And when she finally let her gaze drop, she saw that his cock was too.

  She sucked in a breath, undermining her attempt at steady breathing. The shaft of it was hard and thick beneath the denim, the outline clear as day. Her lust avalanched through her mind, cooling all other emotions. In that moment, all she wanted was him.

  He seized the hand she’d laid on his thigh and squeezed it. “I’ll be damned if I know why you look surprised.”

  He dropped his gaze to his lap, and her inner muscles drew tight again.

  “You’ve gotta know how beautiful you are. I’d have to be a dead man not to be hard after a kiss like that.”

  There was a teasing note in his voice, but heat burnt high across the bridge of her nose and over her cheeks anyway.

  “I’m not surprised. Just impressed.”

  One corner of his mouth twisted, hinting at a smile. “That makes two of us, then.”

  He hadn’t seen anything yet. But the fact that the kiss had been good for him too made her want to squirm on the edge of her seat.

  Instead, she ran her hand slowly up his thigh, stopping when her fingertips touched the hard line of his dick. It was rigid and warm, trapped beneath his jeans. Just touching him there sent a wave of shuddering excitement tearing through her.

  He groaned like she’d done much more – touched him skin-to-skin, wrapped her hand around him.