Karla checked on Lilly in her pink and white jogging stroller. “Yeah, if we keep this up, I’ll finally lose this baby weight before New Year’s.”
My phone started buzzing in its strap on my arm. Retrieving it, I saw my partner’s name lighting up the screen with a few texts.
Whistler: Are all three of you ladies still joining us tonight?
Whistler: The Cask and Barrel at six, Jordan has seats saved for all of us to watch the game.
Me: How could we miss it? We’re obviously gonna be there. Just about to finish up our run. I’ll text you soon.
Whistler: 10-4
“Judging by that goofy-ass look on your face, let me guess—Sean?” Myla had a shit-eating grin while packing up Seven’s bowl and water bottle.
Rolling my eyes, I secured my phone back in place. “He was just checking to see if we were still going to The Cask and Barrel to watch the Otter’s game tonight.”
Karla had Lilly up in her arms, rocking her back to sleep. “How could we not watch our guys kick some Islander ass tonight?”
It was crazy to think that only a little over a year had gone by. Our group was so close, and it was hard to imagine a time when Karla and Myla weren’t my best girlfriends or when Sean wasn’t my partner. I had finally found the group of real friends I had always wanted ever since I was a little girl.
“One more mile?” Myla asked as she started to jog in place. “It’s too cold to just stand around for too long.”
Right as we were all about to start back up, a brown and white dog sprinted past us, hell-bent on catching a squirrel that was bee-lining it for a tree as a short woman chased after him, screaming, “Dozer! Stop! Dozer!” at the top of her lungs. Her long dark hair flew around as she frantically tried to catch her pup.
I was close enough that I ran up and quickly stomped on the long black leash flapping behind him. The dog hastily halted, trotting over to me with a wagging tail as his owner caught up to us.
“Oh god! Thank you so much!” She grabbed the leash from me. “He’s never taken off like that before. Stupid squirrels,” she huffed, hands on her knees.
Seven and Dozer started playing around a little as I put my hand on her shoulder. “It happens to the best of us. I’m Jessica, and this is Myla and Karla.”
We all waved as Dozer’s owner blushed a little. “Oh crap, where in the heck are my manners? I’m Jolene, but everyone calls me Joey.”
A tall man trotted up to us with a red-haired toddler in a jogging stroller. “Hey, love. That dog almost ran the whole bloody park without us.” His brogue soaked his words, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew I had seen him somewhere.
“Jessica here was able to stop him.” Joey turned to me. “This is my husband, Finn, and our little guy here is William.”
Lilly started to scream at the top of her lungs, rapidly cutting off our small talk. Karla bent down, picking up her baby to rock her again. “Hey guys, I think I need to get her home. It’s a little too cold out here, and it’s getting close to her feeding time.”
Finn and Joey waved goodbye as we turned to head back toward Myla’s apartment. It was our routine on my off days. Myla, Karla, the baby, the dog, and I all hung out for the better part of the morning, running in the park and then having an early lunch with mimosas before either hanging out with the guys or watching a hockey game, depending on if the Otters were at home or away. Working as a New York City police officer was my dream come true, but I’d never imagined that when I joined the force, I was really joining a huge extended family within my precinct, plus even more extended than that.
As we rounded the corner out of the park, an ad at the bus stop across the street caught my eye and it clicked right away.
“Hey, isn’t that the guy we just met in the park?” Karla was pointing at the same Calvin Klein sign I had been eyeing.
Myla laughed a little. “Well, who would have thought we were just in the presence of a celebrity and we didn’t even have a fucking clue.”
Chapter 6
Whistler
The frigid winter air wrapped around me as I walked down the block to The Cask and Barrel. I was pretty excited that Jordan was slinging drinks at one of my favorite watering holes again. It was high time she got back to her roots and worked for a relaxed joint. I was starting to get tired of going to visit her at the snobby mixology bars she had been working for. Being one of the best bartenders in the country had her in high demand, but sometimes she took jobs that brought her back to her origins in the crazy industry she loved.
The Cask and Barrel was already filled with rowdy fans packed at the two bars like sardines. In true Otters’ fandom they were covered from head to two in red and blue with Ollie shirts and jersey’s the Hayes, Cox and Crosby on their backs. It was surreal to see the surnames of my friends gracing the top line of so many fan’s clothing. To me Gavin Hayes, Brayden Cox and Will Crosby were three regular guys, with regular jobs that just so happened to be hockey—to others, they were heroes.
Sliding up to the side bar where a line of high-backed stools had white pieces of paper taped to the scratched wood with RESERVED bolded on them made me feel pretty important. I took off my coat and was immediately greeted with a dark draft and a kind smile.
“Ah! You read my mind. How do you always know?” I sank into the chair noticing Jordan was wearing her Crosby jersey as she rang up an order.
“I’m just good at my job,” she called over her shoulder. “I can always count on you to be the first one to show.” Jordan’s bubbly personality hadn’t changed since the first time Gavin and I met her all those years ago.
I glanced down at my watch. “Chad should be here any minute, and I can’t believe the girls didn’t beat me.” I threw my coat, gloves and scarf over the back of the chair at the end of the row. “How have things been going with working here?”
Jordan’s face lit up as she whipped her short black bangs off to the side and out of her eyes. “I fucking love it. Best choice I’ve made in a while. Kyle is an awesome owner, and so is the rest of the staff.” Jordan pointed to the front door, and I turned to see Chad Tomlinson walking in with his Ollie is My Homeboy shirt on.
He took the seat next to me. “Hey man, how’s it going? Haven’t seen you around the station lately.”
I took another sip of my beer. “McBee and I have been working a lot of nights lately. We completely got the short end of the stick on that one. How’s the new lady? Word is you’re falling hard and fast.” I usually didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone’s love life, but with being knee-deep in the holiday season and the never-ending grin that was plastered on Chad’s face, I just couldn’t help but get wrapped up in the magic of all of it. Every time I saw him in passing, he had the biggest shit-eating grin and a bounce in his step. I had to admit that I was happy for the guy. Chad was definitely one of the good ones.
I was usually the smartass jerk friend who was quick with a backhanded compliment or witty remark and I kind of enjoyed that part of my personality, but it was starting to get a little lonely. With Gavin wifed up and Brayden having a new baby with Karla, the days of shooting the shit with the guys and talking about our weekend conquests were far behind us.
Tomlinson burst with excitement, turning to me like a middle school girl about to gossip about a schoolyard crush. “Charlie is freaking amazing, a tiny dynamo with killer curves. I’m hook, line, and sinker into this chick, man.”
Jordan was quick with his bottle of Coors. I raised my glass in the air, and Chad brought his to mine as I said, “Cheers to that, man. I’m happy for both of you.”
Jordan slammed another draft of my favorite milk stout down in front of me. “Thanks.” I smirked at her.
Shooting over a quick wink, she glanced down at her watch. “Where the hell are the girls? They better not be late.”
I held up a finger. “Give me a second, I’ll check on them.” I walked past the three barstools with reserved signs taped to the back of them, wa
iting to be occupied by the rest of my crew once they arrived. Just as I was about to hit the green button to call McBee, her bright smile and piercing eyes captivated me. My partner had turned into one of my best friends over the last year and I hated to admit it to myself, but there was a small ember of something more growing within me. I fought it hard, but even so, it burned deep down in my gut.
“Hey,” I greeted all they with a wave before helping Jessica take off her coat and threw it onto the chair that was quickly piling high with all of our outerwear.
Myla and Karla took their seats, leaving Jessica and me to sit in the middle next to each other. It was normal, but in that moment, I felt anxious. My hands went all clammy. I could feel my pulse in my neck. My stomach flipped and flopped.
Get a grip, man.
She’s your partner—completely off limits.
“What took you guys so long?” I asked.
Chad hugged McBee as Myla leaned onto the bar to get into my field of vision to answer. “We wouldn’t have taken so long if the babysitter hadn’t gotten stuck on the train. Sorry.”
I shrugged. “The national anthem hasn’t even started. I think you’re good.”
Karla kissed my cheek. “You’re always the nice one of the group, Sean. Some people think they can throw hissy fits for no reason when someone is five minutes late.
Myla stuck her tongue out at her kind-of-sister-in-law. “Just because my brother and you have a kid together does not mean you can make me late to watch my boys play.”
Karla rolled her eyes teasingly. “They’re our boys, My. Don’t forget that Gavin and Brayden play on the same team.”
“Have they been like this all day?” I whispered into Jess’s ear.
She giggled while nodding. “It’s a big game, so they’re just full of nervous anticipation.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
Jess put her hand on my knee for just a split second as she replied, “Yeah, they’ve been like this and it’s be quite entertaining.”
The touch was innocent and fleeting but I missed the feeling the second she moved her hand and continued talking with the group.
There was a minute left in the third and the Otters were down by one goal. As the clock wound down, Gavin had the puck, unfortunately missing the shot right as the buzzer rang. In unison, we all slammed our fists onto the bar. As fans, we had all been spoiled with win after win. A loss had been bound to happen, but it was still disappointing.
Right as Myla was starting in on her rant about the bad calls the referees had made during the game as the post-game show started to air, a few guys at the other bar across the restaurant started yelling at each other. Chad, Jessica, and I all jumped into cop mode as a bottle smashed on the bar top and punches started to fly.
Tomlinson and I grabbed each of the drunken hooligans as McBee called in the brawl. One guy’s eye was busted open pretty badly, and the other was bleeding profusely from his swelling lip. They were both struggling, shouting profanities at each other and us. The overwhelming aroma of vodka emanated from them as I tried to get some straight answers.
“All right hotshots, care to tell us what this was all about?” Even though the three of us were off duty, the police officer in us never really was. The meaning of “protect and serve” was always pumping through our veins.
The one I had by his shirt collar spit blood onto the floor at my feet. “Fuck you,” he growled as Jordan handed him a clean towel to help soak up some of the blood gushing out of his eyebrow. “Mind your own damn business.”
McBee got right up in the dude’s face. “Check your attitude pal. I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with right now.”
The douche canoe Chad had in almost a headlock tried to wriggle free as he yelled, “Fucking cunt. I’ll kick your damn ass too.”
“Wrong answer.” I laughed as Gabi walked into the bar. I loved how badass the women in our department were. They were tougher than a lot of the guys, and I had to give them props for it.
Gabi strutted in, hands on her belt. “Everything okay here?” She glanced around at the three of us as we continued to keep the two hotheads apart. She was totally putting on a show, and the entire bar was eating out of the palm of her hand.
“I think you can handle it from here.” I slapped Gabi on the shoulder, getting close enough that only she could hear me. “It was just a drunken fight, no big deal, but that one”—I pointed to the guy with the busted lip—“kind of threatened McBee. Scare him a little, will ya?”
“Ha! What an idiot. Consider it done.” We shook hands. “Thanks, guys. See you around the station.”
Chapter 7
McBee
Kings Plaza was bustling with last-minute shoppers as the holiday spirit started to seep into my pores. There was something so magical about the decorations and lights everywhere with people hurrying around in their hats and coats, trying to find that perfect gift for their loved one.
“Are you and Sean going to be able to make it to our party this weekend?” Myla asked as she eyed a gorgeous gold necklace with a pearl pendant in the window of Kay Jewelers.
I shook my head before sipping my steaming green tea latte. “We’re working the Marcie Mazzola Foundation charity concert at the Times Square main outdoor stage that night.”
Myla frowned as she sighed, leaving the stunning necklace. As she walked a few paces away, I snapped a picture and texted it to Gavin.
Me: Your wife was checking this out just now, just in case you need ideas.
Gavin: You’re a lifesaver, McBee. Tell Sean he needs to keep you around.
Me: Don’t worry, I tell him daily that you guys would be lost without me.
Gavin: Complete understatement. Thanks again.
Me: No problem
Myla sighed. “That freaking blows. I really wanted you guys to be there, maybe get you two stuck under the mistletoe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sean Whistler is my partner and best friend—that is it.”
Myla spun on her heels to look at me. “The two of you would make the most adorable blue-eyed babies in the entire world! I just know it!”
I scoffed at her, grabbing her tiny shoulders to make her turn around and keep walking. “Trust me, he thinks of me as his kid sister.”
Myla rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Jess. Is it at least going to be a good concert?”
I couldn’t help but feel giddy thinking about getting to work a benefit where two of my all-time favorite bands were going to be performing. “The Hysterics and Three Ugly Guys are going to be there, so I’m pretty stoked.”
“Damn, that is going to be an awesome show.” We made our way into Macy’s to find a new cologne for Gavin, the last item on our shopping list for the day. The smell from the different scents started to give me a headache as Myla looked around for the perfect fragrance for her man, finally settling on Beardbrand Spiced Citrus.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to get for Sean?” Myla asked as the sweet older attendant started to giftwrap her purchase in red and silver paper.
I shrugged. “I’m at a complete loss. Last year we gave each other meaningless gifts since we hadn’t known each other for too long yet, but this year I want to get him something better than just a gift card, ya know?”
Myla tapped her finger to her lips. “I’ll try to come up with something too. Maybe I can get Gavin and Jordan to help.”
I started to back away from the counter, muttering, “Thanks,” and bumped into another shopper behind me. “Sorry.” I whipped around and ran right into the broad chest of a tall man with stitches over his eye.
“No problem,” the man said, putting his hands on my shoulders to help steady my footing.
Myla narrowed her gaze. “Hey, weren’t you at The Cask and Barrel watching the Otters game the other night?”
The man’s face turned a million shades of red. “I thought you two looked familiar. Leave it to me to shit talk to the one guy in that bar who ac
tually wasn’t all talk.”
I got lost in his deep brown eyes for a few seconds before trying to laugh off the situation. “Trust me, I’ve seen a lot worse.”
He laughed with me for a second. “Well, that’s a relief. I’m Vinnie, by the way. Thank you for helping me not get my ass handed to me the other night.”
“I’m Jessica, and stopping ass beatings is actually in my job description.” His eyes captivated me again while his smile whisked me off to la-la land.
“You’re not a cop, are you? I thought all lady cops were butch and had man hands.” His smile widened as I giggled nervously.
Myla cleared her throat. “Hi, I’m Myla.”
Fucking cock block.
“Don’t tell me you’re a cop too.” Vinnie shook her hand.
“No, just McBee over here, and I have to say, her hands are as far from manly as they come.”
I noticed him glance down at my gloved hands, and I felt self-conscious. For all I knew, I actually did have gross man hands. Being a police officer did take away a small portion of my femininity every once in a while, but that was only because I didn’t take shit from anyone and men could be sexist pigs from time to time.
“Anyway, glad to see you got your eye taken care of. Try to stay away from drunk jerks at bars.” I hooked my arm with Myla’s and started to walk away from him.
“Yeah, thanks,” he called out as I hurried us away.
Even though I had been a little mesmerized by the dreamy hothead for a split second, there was no way I would go near him with a damn ten-foot pole. He had just been booked at my station for drunk and disorderly and that was a tree this dog was not going to bark up, no matter how mouthwateringly attractive the squirrels were.
Off Duty (Shots On Goal Standalone Book 6) Page 3