Page 20 of Her Dragon Outlaw

“Did you have a nickname?”

“One-Eyed Joe,” he shoots back immediately. His humor puts me at ease and draws me closer to him.

“I bet you were known in every precinct in the city. ‘Oh, that One-Eyed Joe got me good! Slippery little bastard!’ That’s the kind of thing they would say.”

He chuckles. “Not far off. Usually, I would just get a slap on the wrist, but sometimes I’d get into real trouble.” He takes a breath. “The other unhoused people I met weren’t very fond of me. I had my run-ins with a couple of people on the street. One time I ended up in the hospital with a fractured wrist. Another time I had to hole up at a friend’s house for three weeks because someone was trying to kill me. You soon find out who your real friends are when it’s like that.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “That must have been really tough.”

“Yep. It was a hard time in my life.” His openness is admirable—inspiring, even. He makes me want to be more of myself.

“How did you end up as a PEACE officer?”

“Funny story. I actually stopped a robbery at a convenience store. I was in there buying, of all things, a diet cola.”

“Okay,” I say, emphasizing my words. “You have to tell me this story.”

He laughs and throws me a wink. “I knew that would get your attention.”

“Come on, give me the juicy deets.”

“I was in there getting a diet cola, right. I’m lining up with my drink in hand when someone bursts in through the door with a gun and a ski mask. I couldn’t believe it: the ski mask was bright purple and the gun was a Colt .45.”

“Talk about mood whiplash.” I should have a bowl of popcorn for this.

“The guy goes up to the counter. Starts shouting and brandishing the gun and everything. Turns out there’s a PEACE agent in the store, who pushes his way to the counter between all the people running out. Unfortunately, the guy isn’t quick enough on the draw and the robber hits the agent with the butt of his gun. The agent goes down and the robber continues to terrorize this poor cashier—some kid with glasses, whose parents own the store.

“I’m still stuck there, a bit frozen, you know? But somehow I unthaw and, without thinking, I toss my cola at the robber’s head. He goes down and drops his gun. The agent picks it up and saves the day—typical action hero stuff.”

“Sounds like you saved the day,” I insist.

He smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “Anyway, that’s how they recruited me into the agency.”

“Seems you were meant to do it.”

He smiles at me again, still sweet, and a rush of fondness pushes its way through my chest. Seeing a new side of him is nice—unveiling the layers of this soft, sweet, giant of a man helps me understand that the world is not all bad. Being vulnerable with each other has brought us closer, our bond strengthening with each secret we share.

18

CODY

Lori waits in the car while I grab my stuff from my apartment. I do not need much: a few changes of clothes and my toiletries and I am ready to go. I check my face in the mirror before I leave in case I have somehow managed to smear egg over it and keep it there all day.

Then I hurry out the door to get back to Lori as soon as possible, taking the building stairs two at a time. My heart hammers in my chest but I do not give myself time to examine why. I cannot dawdle in the stairwell when her life is on the line.

When I see her through the windshield of my car, my breath catches in my throat. For one glorious, spinning moment, she is the only thing in the world. Her icy blue eyes stand out from the dark of the car like diamonds shining in the night. Her blond hair falls in waves down her shoulders, a sun-cast meadow.

Her beauty is astounding.

I clear my throat to catch my breath again and descend the last few steps to the car. When I tap on the door, she looks up with a sweet smile and rolls down the window.

“Taking the car to the lakehouse is a bad idea,” I say. “If they find us, they could trace the car back to us instantly.”

“Okey dokey artichokey. Any ideas on how we’re going to get there then?”

I grin down at her with as much charm as I can muster. It must work because she flushes red—that could be the cold air through the open car window, though.

“We fly.”

---