by Peyton Banks
“You’re beautiful and smart. It can’t be that hard,” Grandma returned.
“That’s easier said than done.” I rolled my eyes. “My occupation brings a boatload of challenges to a romantic relationship. Just the mere act of trying to date is difficult. It’s hard to find someone who wants to go out on a date with me when I get off at six in the morning.” And sorting through all the physical and emotional issues my job brought into a new relationship was difficult for any man to deal with. “The dating struggle is real.” I pulled my hat off my head and fluffed out my thick curly shoulder length hair. “And the stereotypes of women in law enforcement is fucking ridiculous. Most men think I’m carrying a gun all the time and always eating donuts. There’s a real lack of understanding of what I do daily.”
Grandma snorted. “I’m not talking about dating some asshole. I’m talking about all the good men out there who will understand and respect what you bring to the table baby girl.” She paused. “Maybe you need to look for the right man in a smaller pool, like right here. There are lots of hot men in small towns.”
“Lots?” My eyes narrowed. “Here? I doubt it. The dating pool here dwindled when all the young people, like me, got the hell out of here either after graduating from high school or college.”
“Many people of the younger generation are moving back here in droves. It’s refreshing that they’re coming back to their roots to settle down. They’ve come to their senses and realized that the big city ain’t where the actions at.” She winked at me.
“If you say so,” I answered. Unlike most occupations, police work often defines a person in the mind of a potential mate. There was an odd fascination with women in law enforcement. I didn’t have time or the patience to wade through that cesspool of crazy. Besides, it could be very intimidating for a man who is dating a female cop who carries a gun and has a constitutional authority to take a life.
Grandma grinned at me. “I say so.” She patted my leg. “Enough about that, my party is tomorrow night and you’re here at least a week. I’ll get the chance to fatten you up and make sure you’re resting.”
“I’m guessing that your party is a big deal around here.”
Grandma laughed, throwing her head back. “Baby girl, it is the party of the year. Down at the country club, lots of food, good people… I hope you’re ready to see your grandma treated like the queen bee of the town.”
“You’ve always been that,” I pointed out.
“You’re damn right I have and it’s about time this town recognized it,” Grandma said. “I hope you have something pretty to wear for it.”
“I have something appropriate,” I told her.
Grandma gave me a little look—the look I’d gotten more than a few times living with her as a teenager, that told me she had a juicy secret she wasn’t about to tell me.
“Good,” Grandma said. “Because you never know who you’ll meet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Grandma, there’s never been over fifty thousand people in town,” I pointed out. “My entire high school was less than the graduating class at PS 111. I can’t meet anyone I haven’t already met.”
Grandma shrugged. “Still,” she said while getting to her feet. “People come and go. You never know if Mr. Right comes strolling back into your life.”
I frowned, watching her bustle out of my room. What is she up to?
2
Kendra
Grandma was right about her birthday party being the event of the year. The people who organized the event, had gone all out at the Five Pines Country Club, putting up streamers in Grandma’s favorite colors—pink and green—making sure the catering was on point, getting a band and a DJ to cover the music for the night. I had to wonder just how much Grandma’s friends had spent on the whole shindig, because given how many people, food, and alcohol, it had to be a group effort.
It had been years since I’d been in town and Grandma was telling everyone that I had come, sending them my way as she made her way around the area set up outside Five Pines for the party, talking a little to everybody. As I made my way around the party, I stopped every few minutes, getting waylaid by someone I knew from high school or hadn’t seen since I graduated from college.
“Oh my God, Kendra! How have you been?” Tracy Anderson called out, hugging me as tightly as she could, given she was sporting an enormous pregnant belly.
“Not too bad,” I said, smiling and hugging her back. She and I had never been super close friends, but I’d always liked her pretty well.
Tracy released me, giving me a genuine big small. “Your Grandma is always telling us about how you’re doing on the NYPD. How you made detective and all. I don’t know how you get anything done—all those men in uniform?” she pretended to fan herself at so much heat.
I laughed huskily. “Trust me, when you see them gearing up, or rushing to the bathroom after they made a bad choice on stakeout food, they’re not so hot.”
Tracy pouted playfully. “Well, that’s disappointing. Anyway…how long are you back in town for?”
I didn’t know how many people Grandma had told about my incident and injury, but Tracy seemed to put a lot of weight into her question. “Haven’t decided yet,” I replied. “I’m on leave, but I should go for evaluations soon.”
“Evaluations?” Tracy asked, frowning.
I took a deep breath. I knew I’d have to talk about it—at least a little—while I was staying with Grandma.
“Someone injured me in the line of duty,” I said. “So, they want to make sure I’m all good before they put me back on the beat.” I kept the emotion out of my voice.
“Oh, no!” Tracy said, but I could tell she wasn’t all that surprised at the news. I knew from experience that gossip traveled through this small town faster than the speed of light.
“It’s part of the job,” I countered. “But hey,” I grinned. “I’m in one piece more or less.”
“Well, I hope we can have time to catch up before you head back to the big city,” Tracy said, reaching out to hug me again.
“Anytime,” I said, hugging her back and finishing up the small talk before I kept it moving.
Ignoring the interested gazes of men as I moved through the crowd feeling sexy and confident in my all black attire—a sleek silk blouse with a plunging neckline, paired with fitted pants that stressed my voluptuous ass. I had a thing for clothes but given my long hours working undercover and trying not to stand out during assignments; it wasn’t often that I wore the clothes I loved.
Grabbing a drink, I kept making the rounds, occasionally taking a break to dance a bit, or to check in on Grandma. She was right in her element, living it up, talking to her old lady friends, cutting loose on the dance floor. Ruth, Grandma’s bestie for as long as I could remember, was dancing up a storm, and according to her, ‘showing you young’uns how we used to do the damn thang’. Grandma looked every inch the queen bee, in her fitted purple dress, golden tiara, and silver birthday sash.
“Come on, Kendra, dance with us,” some folks I’d known back in high school—invited with their parents and grandparents to the party—called out to me.
My leg was aching like crazy. I shook my head. “I’m taking a break.”
“And she needs to get me a bottle of water,” Grandma said, covering for me. “It’s hot out here tonight!”
“Right on it, Grandma,” I said, trying to hurry as much as possible to the bar. I didn’t want to limp, but I also didn’t want it to be obvious that I wasn’t dancing for a reason. I waited patiently for one bartender to come to where I stood and got a bottle of water, a glass of wine, and then I headed back to where Grandma was.
“Slow down on the wine drinking, baby girl,” Grandma told me in a soft voice as she accepted the water from me. “You don’t want to take a spill with your leg still so unsteady.”
“Don’t worry. I’m pacing myself,” I promised before walking away to find a seat where I could rest for a bit without being too obvious about
it. I relaxed, chatting with some of Grandma’s older friends who weren’t as robust as her.
Ruth walked over to me, taking a seat. “You look so good, Kendra.” She smiled. “You know we’re all proud of you, right?”
“Oh, I appreciate it,” I replied, smiling at her.
“And you’re a real beauty,” Mabel, another one of Grandma’s friends, said, leaning a bit into her chair. She had had a little more of the wine than she could handle and her granddaughter was off getting her some food. “Why are you still single?”
“My job keeps me busy,” I replied.
“Hogwash,” Mabel countered. “You’re a diamond. Any man in his right mind can see that from a mile away. Or maybe they’re too stupid to recognize wife potential.” She squinted at me. “Now, tell me what the men are like out there in the big city.”
I shrugged. “They’re the same as they are everywhere else.”
Both old women laughed.
“I seem to recall that city men at least take some pride in their appearance,” Ruth commented. “We used to go into New York for a week in the summer and girl, let me tell you…”
Mabel interrupted her, “Oh you can’t tell her about that! She’ll never believe that old women like us used to go pick up hot men.”
I snorted into my glass of wine. “Considering some of Grandma’s stories and warnings, I would absolutely believe it.”
“Well, that was back in the days, when they were cracking down on marijuana,” Ruth mused. “But you could still get ‘special’ cigarettes if you knew somebody in Harlem or Brooklyn.”
I arched a brow. “Y’all got high?”
“Not like folks do today,” Mabel told me. “You know, now that they made it legal here—I’ve been curious to see what it’s like nowadays.”
“It’s still illegal down there in New York, right?” Ruth asked.
I nodded. “They started a law to decriminalize it,” I explained, “but it failed. They’re still working on legalizing it.”
“You know, I agree with legalizing it,” Ruth said. “If you let people get drunk, you might as well let them get high.”
My eyes narrowed. “Well, I can’t take a position. I’ve got to enforce the law.”
Mabel gave me a shrewd look. “And then once it becomes legal you can say what you want about it?”
I laughed and took a sip of my wine before saying, “When it becomes legal, we’ll see.”
I stayed a little while longer, chatting with Grandma’s friends before my stomach starting rumbling. Getting up, I started towards the food tables—it was a buffet, with some servers from the country club wandering around with other little bites and nibbles. Grabbing some chicken, and a few pieces of fresh fruit, I gobbled it down.
Taking the last bite, I handed off my plate to a busser when I heard a sharp, loud crack. My heart pounded in my chest.
Three more, quick, loud explosions pierced the air, and I nearly dropped to the ground on pure instinct. I glanced around for the source of the noise. The rationale part of my brain knew that it wasn’t gunshots. I spotted the kids off to the side of the party, running away from the firecrackers they’d set off and half a dozen more pops shattered the air, startling about half of the partiers—but no one reacted too badly. Except for me.
The firecrackers kept going off and my heart raced.
Cold sweat trickled down the small of my back.
I shivered. The horrible memory of the feeling of the bullets hitting me came back in a rush. My trembling fingers brushed against the leg where the bullet had torn into me. More pops, cut through the air, making me want to run and scream. But I just stood there terrified while hearing the echoes of my partner’s shouts.
“You okay, Kendra?” someone asked. I didn’t even know or care who it was.
My voice shook when I replied, “Yeah, I’m okay.” I had to get out of here before I made a bigger ass of myself. “I need to use the restroom. Be back in a second.” I hurried back towards the inside of the building.
Once I got into the clubhouse, I made a beeline for the restrooms. I sighed with relief that the bathroom was quiet and empty. I went into one stall, closing my eyes, and forcing myself to take deep calming breaths like the department’s shrink had taught me.
I’m having a bad reaction.
It’s normal for things to remind me of that day.
It’s normal to not be okay yet.
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I inhaled and again as I exhaled.
I am in a safe place.
The noise was fireworks.
After a few minutes, my heart starting to slow down and some adrenaline faded out of my system. Walking out of the stall, I checked my face in the mirror. My amber skin was dewy and my hazel eyes were a tad-bit red. Pulling out blotting paper from my clutch, I pressed it to my face before applying more lip-gloss to my full lips. Taking another deep breath, I smooth down my hair before leaving the bathroom and making my way into the party.
“Here comes the cake!” Ruth called out from some corner of the party.
I made my way to Grandma giving her a quick hug. There was a big commotion that caught both our attention, it was a group of hunky firefighters carrying a large cake.
“Since there are so many candles on this,” Mabel said, barely keeping the laughter in, “we thought it would be best to get the fire experts to bring it in.”
I laughed along with everyone else as the group of firefighters brought the cake to Grandma. They decked the cake out in candles—I didn’t envy whoever had been in charge of lighting all of them. The firefighters were hot, inspiring plenty of hoots and hollers from the tipsy women at the party.
As the men got closer, I recognized one or two of them from high school. A few of the guys in the group I didn’t recognize at all. They must have moved to town after I left.
As they presented the cake to Grandma for her to try to blow out all the candles, my breath caught when I spotted him. The boy, now a gorgeous man that had been my best friend, until a fire had made him disappear from my life.
Lukas Koch.
3
Lukas
Seeing Kendra at her grandmother’s side was enough of a shock that I had to make sure I didn’t drop my corner of the cake. I held it together and pretended like I didn’t even notice her, while Pearl Hornsby blew out the candles in three quick blows. Pearl had donated to the fire department for years and so the Chief had been on board with her friends’ suggestion that we bring the cake in as a little joke.
“I’m just glad we didn’t have to get out the hose,” Blake, one of my friends on the department, joked.
“You better not have had them ready,” Ruth, called out. “We spent good money on that cake.” Everyone laughed, and we set the cake down on the table someone brought out specifically for it, to let the servers cut and serve it all around. It was—as Ruth had pointed out—an expensive cake, made by a local bakery that Kendra’s grandmother loved.
I tried not to be so obvious while watching Kendra taking her piece of cake. Damn she’s beautiful. Somehow, she looked exactly like she had back then and different, all at the same time. She was tall and curvy. Her jet-black hair was longer. Her face was a little rounder. And fuck…her full pouty lips stirred up wicked carnal thoughts.
The last time I’d seen Kendra we had both been at the end of high school, technically adults but only just barely. Now, there was something sexy about her that just hadn’t really been there when we’d been in school together—or maybe I just hadn’t noticed it back then. Either way, she was definitely a woman, but still looked like the fierce girl who’d been in my corner frequently.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I drifted off to get some food and a beer, since I wasn’t on the clock. I thought about talking to Kendra, but I couldn’t make myself do it—what would I even say? I’d disappeared right after my mother’s funeral, without even sayi
ng goodbye to Kendra or anyone else. Over the years since I’d been back in town, I’d made things right with most of the friends I’d had who were still around, but Kendra was the one person who I desperately wanted to apologize too. But would she forgive me?
“Lukas, get over here,” Pearl said, spotting me in the crowd. Kendra was right next to her. I grinned, making my way over in long strides.
“How’s the cake, Mrs. Hornsby?” I asked.
Pearl laughed, shaking her head. “As good as any came from Harlequin Bakery,” She patted my arm. “Now that I got you over here, you and Kendra can catch up. Maybe you can talk her into staying for a good long while.” Pearl moved away from Kendra’s side faster than I would have thought was possible for a seventy-five-year-old woman to do.
For a second, neither of us said anything. It was weird, seeing her again—I hadn’t thought I’d ever really see Kendra after I first came back and heard she’d moved down to New York City. Her life in the city agreed with her.
“She’s got a point you know,” I said, smiling.
Kendra laughed. “Yeah, I’m not sure that she ever even met subtlety. How long have you been back in town Lukas?” She looked me over. “I guess probably a while now.”
“A few years,” I answered. “And you’ve been down in New York all this time, right?”
Kendra nodded. “Yes, I went to the NYPD after I finished my degree. Just recently worked my way up to Detective.”
“Congratulations. But you’ve always been smart, ambitious, and beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied. “But it was hard work. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to get the job.”
“Let me guess,” I arched a brow. “They surprised you when you got it but no one else was?”
Kendra rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “And you, Mr. Big Bad Firefighter. I never figured you’d be back in town. You could have at least called me—maybe I’d visit sooner.” She placed her hands on her hips.