by Lacey Black
“Ready?” he asks, meeting me at the squad car and pulling me from the images of his body entwined with my own.
“Yep!” That single word is high-pitched and all breathy.
The rest of the shift progresses smoothly. We have a few more calls and a couple of stops, and for the most part, we have an easy shift, despite the random, not-too-personal small talk. By the time six in the morning rolls around, I’m exhausted and yawning, ready to finish up and head home. My bed is definitely calling me, even if I’ll be climbing in alone.
Ramsey follows me into the precinct, quietly observing my every move and absorbing everything I tell him. The day shift is moving about, getting their own stuff ready to jump in their squads and head out. Most of them come over and greet my new partner, eager to find out how the new guy’s first night on duty was. I completely ignore the questions they volley his way, opting to sign off on my paperwork and gather my stuff to go home.
A few of the veterans come over and say hello, like they do most mornings, but for the most part, they let me finish up my work in peace. Besides, they have fresh blood in interrogate and they know they’ll never get the details out of me.
“Ready?” Ramsey asks as we place the last of the papers in the clerk’s bin and head toward the locker room. I stop at my locker and grab my purse and coat, yawning so big it makes my jaw hurt. My partner chuckles from the opposite side of the room.
“I’m not used to nights yet,” I confess, throwing my purse over my shoulder.
Silently, we head out, only to be stopped by my uncle, his very large six-foot- four frame looming in the doorway. “How’d it go?” he asks, his blue eyes watching and assessing first me, then Ramsey.
“Fine,” I reply at the same time my partner says, “Great.”
Uncle Jake looks between the two of us a few times, and I can’t help that old feeling of overprotectiveness bubbling to the surface. I give him a look before he can even say another word. The last thing I want or need is him interrogating Ramsey about nothing. And that’s what is between us, even if I think he’s hotter than the surface of the sun, he’s off-limits.
My partner.
Off. Limits.
“Good,” Uncle Jake finally replies as I start to push by him through the doorway. “I glanced at your paperwork. Good job tonight,” he adds when we spill into the hall.
“Thank you,” I reply professionally.
“She’s a great teacher and an even better partner,” Ramsey throws out there, and damn it if I don’t feel that blush start to spread up my neck and land in my cheeks.
“Off to bed. See you both tonight,” I tell them, trying to school my reaction to the compliment and get home, my bed sounding better and better with each passing minute. I leave them standing in the hallway, chatting about whatever, and make a beeline for the exit.
The cold December morning slaps me square in the face as I step outside. My truck is on the other side of the lot and before I’m halfway there, our new officer steps up beside me. “Thanks for showing me the ropes tonight,” he says quickly, his hands shoved into the pockets of a thin jacket.
“You’re going to need a thicker coat,” I observe, slowing my pace and walking beside him.
“Yeah, I’m afraid my blood isn’t thick enough for this cold,” he says with a small chuckle. The sound reverberates through me, making my blood pump and my body nearly sway in his direction. And don’t get me started on how that small laugh seems to transform his serious face to something much more carefree and alive.
“Oklahoma winters not like this?” I tease as I approach my truck.
“Not even close. Is this your truck?” he asks, seemingly surprised by my choice of vehicle.
“Yeah,” I answer, glancing at the 1987 three-quarter-ton Chevy truck that I pulled from the garage last night. My regular daily driver is a small Malibu, but I prefer the horsepower of my truck.
Ramsey whistles, low and long. “Damn, if that ain’t the sexiest piece of steel I’ve seen since I left Oklahoma, I don’t know what is. Three-fifty V8?” he asks, referring to the size of what’s under the hood.
“Four-fifty-four big block,” I reply, a tinge of pride in my voice.
“Christ, I think I just fell in love with ya,” he deadpans, his eyes locked on the big square truck in the lot. Of course, my mind rewinds and focuses completely on the way he says he fell in love with me, in his uber-sexy southern accent.
My heart tap-dances in my chest as I glance his way. “She runs even better than she looks.”
“A gearhead too? How did I get so lucky in a partner,” he asks, smiling from ear to ear. Even with the short beard, I can see his gorgeous smile.
My own lips turn upward on their own, and I find myself grinning back at him. “My uncles taught me a few things,” I find myself saying with a shrug. “But most of it came from my dad.” That makes me smile. Dad taught me how to change my own oil, spare tire, and check all of the fluids before the age of sixteen. He vowed that if I was going to be out driving, I was going to know how to take care of my vehicle.
“You have a nice smile.” His words have me looking his way, the grin on my face falling.
“Oh. Thanks.”
And cue the blush…
He nods and heads toward an old Chevy Camaro parked two spaces down from mine. “That’s your car?” I ask, hating how stupid I sound. I mean, obviously it’s his if he’s about to climb into it.
“Damn straight,” he replies with a cocky grin. “She’s my girl.”
“What year is she?”
“Sixty-nine.”
“Very nice, Officer Ramsey,” I reply, turning toward my truck cab, the hint of a smile still on my lips.
“Brooklyn?” The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver down my spine. I turn to find his hazel eyes bright and locked on me.
My heart starts to flop around in my chest and suddenly, I can’t breathe. “Yeah?”
He holds my gaze for several long seconds before the corner of his lip curls upward. “Call me Becker.”
Chapter Four
Becker
As Christmas approaches in just over a week, I find myself finally starting to relax and ease into my new life. The job is going well, even if I’m not quite used to working nights yet. Having Brooklyn as a partner is definitely helping me get through the discomfort of being up when the rest of the world is sleeping.
On my first day off this week, I signed the rental agreement on a partially furnished condo. Now, with keys in hand, Brit and I are ready to move my meager belongings into my new place. It isn’t much, but it’ll do. The place has two bedrooms and one and half baths, plus a single car garage on the end. My side buds against one of the mirror opposite. I haven’t met my neighbor yet, but the realtor assured me that the pair of tenants were quiet and respectable.
Brittany backs her car up to the front stoop and I get to work unloading. Most of it fit in my car, but the new stuff I’ve bought since moving to Rivers Edge didn’t. Plus, we went out this morning and bought two carts full of the basics like garbage cans, cleaning supplies, laundry soap, towels, kitchen necessities, and some Christmas cookie scented candle shit that you put in a warmer. I still have plenty of stuff to get, but at least I have a good start.
I grab the bags from her car and start taking them inside. “I’ll unload and bring it all inside if you want to start unpacking,” I say, making my way to the front door.
“I want to start a load of laundry. You’ll want to shower later, but you have to wash the towels first. You never know who touched them in the store,” Brit says, grabbing a few things before heading into the house.
Lady luck was on my side when I found this place. The kitchen appliances stay, as well as the small kitchen table and chair set, a decent recliner, a dresser and nightstand in the master bedroom, and the washer and dryer. The only thing I’ll need to get from the furniture store is a bed, couch, and television. I think I can handle that.
When I unl
oad my arms, I find my sister in the kitchen, filling the sink with hot, soapy water. She propped her cell phone on the counter, a new country artist I’m unfamiliar with piping through the speaker. “I’m going to start washing your plates and silverware after I get the towels in the washer.”
“No rush on that,” I tell her. “I don’t have any food in the fridge yet anyway. I’ll probably just order a pizza tonight.”
“Oh! If you do, call that Italian restaurant that everyone is raving about. They have the best pizza in town,” she says, unpackaging boxes of plates, bowls, cutlery, glasses, and silverware and piling it all on the counter.
She keeps her head down as she works, which is probably a good thing. Then she doesn’t see me smile. The moment she started talking about the restaurant and pizza, my mind instantly went back to Brooklyn and our first night working together. I had already planned to try their pizza, and why not call it in tonight. I might even brave that margherita pizza she suggested.
I head back outside to finish unloading her car, the cool December air sliding down my spine and causing me to shiver. With my arms laden with more from this morning’s shopping spree, I turn to head back inside when a nearby door opening catches my attention. Glancing up, my eyes connect with the crystal blue ones I can’t stop thinking about.
“Are you following me?” Brooklyn asks, a hesitant grin on her face.
“I was going to ask the same thing.” The bags are awkward, but there’s no way I’m moving right now.
She takes in the bags in my hands and the question weighs heavily in her eyes. “Are you visiting someone here?” She nods toward my new place and glances over my shoulder.
“Not visiting. Moving in.”
Her shock is written all over her face. “Really? You’re renting this condo?”
“Sure am,” I say, watching as she wraps her arms around her chest to ward off the chill. “Wanna come in?”
She stands up tall, squaring her shoulders. “Oh, I shouldn’t.”
I give her a cocky grin, one that used to get me just about whatever I wanted, where the ladies were concerned. “Yeah, probably not, but you know you wanna. Besides, you can come meet my sister. Come on, partner.”
With the bags still in my hands, I head toward the front entry and push open the door. Before I can turn to see if she’s behind me, I feel her brush against me and her jasmine scent assaults my nostrils. Brooklyn holds open the door and gently closes it behind me.
“Did you get lost?” Brit hollers from the sink. When she turns around, her face registers both surprise and elation.
“Brit, this is my partner, Brooklyn Jackson. Officer Jackson, meet my sister, Brittany Ramsey,” I say as I place the rest of the bags on the table.
“Oh, we’ve met. We took a spin class together this fall,” my sister replies, drying her hands on a paper towel and coming over to join us.
“That class was hell,” Brooklyn adds with a serious tone.
“No shit. Worst thirty bucks I ever spent,” Brit grumbles, making both women giggle.
“Apparently, Brooklyn is my new neighbor too,” I chime in, heading over to the fridge to find a bottle of water.
“Oh really?” my sister asks in that singsong voice that lets me know she’s already overthinking this entire situation.
“Well, me and my roommate, Elaina. She works at the immediate care clinic on Main Street, so our schedules are completely the opposite right now.”
“I know her,” Brit replies, the two of them making fast friends. “I work at the clothing boutique next door. We’ve chatted a few times coming and going.”
“How long have you been in Rivers Edge?” Brooklyn asks, following behind my sister as she heads over to continue washing my new stuff. Brooklyn grabs one of the hand towels sitting by the sink and starts drying the dishes. It’s crazy how comfortable it feels to have her here, in my space, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. For a guy who used to pride himself on not getting attached, it’s shocking how much I wouldn’t mind attaching myself to Miss Brooklyn Jackson.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say as I approach the duo.
She shrugs. “I don’t mind. I didn’t have anything else to do today. Maybe some grocery shopping, but that’s it.”
“Oh! Becker needs groceries too. Maybe you two can go together?” my nosy sister offers, waggling her eyebrows behind Brooklyn’s back. I see exactly what she’s doing here, and I shouldn’t like it.
But I do.
“That’s not necessary. I have nothing so I’m sure I’ll be a while,” I reply, even though I’d love to invite her along. Grocery shopping is one of the most domesticated acts we could do, even if all that food is going to two different houses.
Brooklyn shrugs. “Well, we are going to the same place, right? Plus, we live right next door. It does kinda make sense.”
In my mind, I throw my arms in the air in victory. On the outside, I play it cool and shrug. “Up to you. You’re welcome to ride with me. The Camaro has a huge back seat.”
Brooklyn’s blue eyes widen, and it’s only right then that I realize what I said and the implication. While I’d love to get naked in the backseat of my car with my sexy new partner, I don’t think suggesting such a thing is the best way to go about it. We’re stuck in a weird spot right now, partners during the day (or night, to be exact) and neighbors the rest of the time. I could definitely see us being friends, even if the thought of something more has crossed my mind, but I have to tread carefully.
“I meant for groceries.” My own face breaks out in a wolfish grin as she bites her lower lip, narrowing her eyes and giving me that ‘I don’t think I believe you’ look. But then she smiles, her entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree, and that one simple act has my libido raging and my hands tingling to touch her.
The rest of the day is spent organizing and arranging my new place. The girls worked in the kitchen for most of the afternoon, while I tackled my bedroom. Without having a bed, I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight, but that’s no different than the month or so at my sister’s place. I have to admit though, I’m really looking forward to a bed again. A big one. Lots of room.
Just in case…
Although, there’s a lot to be said for a small bed too. I’ve never been a cuddler, but I just might make an exception for a certain blonde-haired beauty who sleeps on the opposite side of my wall.
“All right, big brother, I’m heading out. You should be all set. If you need help tomorrow at the furniture store, let me know.”
I pull her into my arms, very much aware that Brooklyn is lingering in the background, watching our exchange. “I’m good. I’m going over there early so I can catch an afternoon nap before work tomorrow night.”
She nods as I release her from my hug. Brit grabs her coat and heads for the front door. “Brooklyn, it was good to see you again. I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” she adds, throwing a wink over her shoulder at me and an easy smile at the other woman in the room.
“Good to see you too,” my partner replies, not commenting on the see her again part. There’s actually a pretty good chance they’ll run into each other now, especially if my sister visits often.
We’re left alone a few seconds later, and after I watch my sister pull out of my visitor’s parking space, I return to where Brooklyn stands. “I should head home,” she says, heading to where she hung her coat over one my kitchen chairs.
“I thought we were going grocery shopping,” I reply, not ready to part ways just yet.
She turns back around to face me, her mind clearly running through her options. I open my mouth to give her an out, but she surprises me by saying, “Let’s go.” Brooklyn grabs her coat and heads for the front door. “I’ll meet you at your car. I’m going to grab my purse and make sure my place is locked up.”
When my place is secure, I head out to my car and get the motor started, cranking up the heat. Brooklyn is there a few moments later and climbs into the
passenger seat. “Damn, this is a sweet ride,” she whispers, glancing around the interior. I spent a lot of time and even more money fixing up my girl, and the interior is no different. Reupholstered bucket seats and a new dash with gauges, it was all part of the process.
“She sure is,” I reply, lovingly, running a hand along her smooth dash. “Wait until you hear her run.”
Her smile warms the interior better than the heater, and I can’t help my own grin as I throw my baby in reverse and pull out of the garage. We don’t have far to go, but I decide a little small talk, and maybe a little more digging into her life, is in order. “So, you mentioned you’ve lived here your whole life. Family still here?”
“Yep,” she answers, looking out at the landscape of town. Colorful Christmas lights adorn windows and trees and blow-up Santas are poised in yards. “Well, one of my brothers is in college, but my youngest two siblings are still here.”
“So, three siblings?”
“Yep, two younger brothers and a sister.”
“I just have my sister, Brit. Growing up, I was grateful to only have one pest underfoot, but now, I’m wishing I would have had more,” I tell her, thinking back at how I hated having Brit tag along everywhere I went. As soon as I could get away from her, I did. Now, I’m thankful to have a sibling, and even more appreciative to be in the same town as her.
“There’s enough of an age gap between us that I’ve never really minded. Ryder’s about to turn twenty, Dax is sixteen and driving, and Ellie is fifteen. So much drama at that age,” she adds, a humorous chuckle spilling from her lips.
All too soon I’m pulling into the parking lot of the family-owned grocery store. I meet her at the front of the car, and together, we head inside. The warmth of the business slaps me in the face as we step through the automatic doors. We each grab a cart and head toward the produce.
Brooklyn seems to veer off, stopping to check a selection of fresh fruits. It feels weird to just linger beside her as she browses, so I opt to move forward, gathering what food I need to stock my own fridge and cabinets. I start setting potatoes and carrots in my cart, grabbing a bag of sweet peppers too. Those are good on the grill, even in December, wrapped in bacon and filled with cream cheese.