Page 13 of Hot to Trot

Lucky Adam. He got to fix it. Not an easy task.

"You want me to pick you up something at the Dairy Barn?" Jared askedfrom the open doorway. Adam glanced up and suppressed a scowl at the way the man's shirttail hung out on one side. He'd asked his officers time and again to make sure they looked professional. Jared seemed the most challenged in this area, especially as it seemed his shirt was a magnet for barbecue sauce, mustard, and other nefarious condiments. But at least he was generous enough to ask Adam if he wanted a sandwich.

''No, thanks. I'll grab something later."

Jared sent him a wave, and moments later the heavy metal door slammed shut. The small building fell silent.

Adam leaned back in his chair and sighed. He had plenty of paperwork awaiting him, but for some reason, he didn't feel like diving into it. He closed his eyes and was immediately assaulted by the image of Scarlet Rose.

He hated that he couldn't shake the niggling of want that had burrowed inside him and taken root. He couldn't act on his desires. But he wouldn’t. They didn’t align with the man he wanted to be.

The harsh ring of the phone interrupted his ruminations. Roz had clocked out. No one to answer but him. He should let the machine pick up, but it might be an emergency. He snatched the receiver off the hook. "Oak Stand Police Department. Hinton."

"Well, hello, stranger," the voice purred.

He closed his eyes. "Angi."

"Oh, you remembered what my voice sounds like."

Adam breathed a silent curse. One he'd never say aloud. "How could I forget? I heard it almost every day for the ten months we were together.”

"You changed your cell phone number," she breathed, ignoring his gibe about the length of their marriage. Her voice sounded gravelly from the cigarette smoke of the bar she had likely visited the night before. He could visualize her on the other side of the line. Tight dress, too much makeup, with a glass of sweet tea cradled in one hand. She'd be sprawled across the bed on her stomach, likely barefoot, chewing a piece of spearmint gum to give her tea mint flavor. She'd likely taken a break in getting ready for round two for the weekend, where she would probably hit two or three clubs with her girlfriends. He knew her, and he knew her schedule. It hadn't changed with their marriage and it sure hadn't changed with their divorce.

"New life, new number,” he said.

Angi didn't respond. A few seconds slipped by. "That's what you want? A whole new life? You want to just forget about us? About me?" Her poor-me routine was in full force, the one she'd perfected after losing their baby. The one that stirred guilt inside him every time.

He tried to dash away the feelings of sadness, anger, and bitterness her words brought forth. "Don't go there, Ang. There is nousanymore."

Adam rubbed his eyes with his thumb and finger. He didn't need this now. Not when he had a report to file on a certain speeder. Not when he had a giant pig statue to locate.

"You didn't think that the last time you were in Houston. It felt very much an us. In fact, it felt like old times." Angi's voice had returned to breathy and teasing. This was the voice she used on him every time she wanted something, whether it was a drink, sex, or money. Usually it was all three. And damn his weak hide, he sometimes gave in.

"That night was a mistake," he muttered, wishing he hadn't answered the phone. He also wished he'd shoved her out of his Houston hotel door the last time he'd been in the city. Instead he allowed her to wheedle herself inside for a nightcap. Which had led to sex so hot the hotel manager had called the room and requested they keep it down because there had been complaints.

That little rendezvous had cost him a check to cover her rent for the month, money over and above the alimony he paid her on a regular basis. As he'd scribbled his name on the signature line, he'd felt dirty and used. Shame had coursed through him. Didn't matter that she had seduced him. Didn't matter that no one had forced him to write that check. Guilt reigned where Angi was concerned. As it always had.

Their disaster of a marriage had been his fault.He'd forced her into something she hadn't wanted, tried to make her intosomething she could never be, and they'd both paid for his mistake.

"Somehow I knew you'd say that, darlin'."

“So what do you want, Angi?"

"Why do I have to want something? Can't I call my ex to find out how he's doing in his new job?"

"No," Adam said, shuffling papers around on his desk. "I'm pretty busy here, so if you don't need anything, I'll have to let you-"

"Wait," Angi chirped. "I do need one itty-bitty favor."

He slapped down the paperwork. Of course she did. "What?"

"Well, it's not that big of a deal, but this past Wednesday I went out with some girls from the shop. We all thought Sheryl Lynn was the designated driver because Cathy drove last time, but she thought Cathy wasn’t drinking. Well, anyway, I ended up having to drive 'cause Sheryl Lynn had four shots of tequila and-"

"You got a DUI?"

"Well... " She hesitated, the slightest edge to her voice. "Yeah."

"Nothing I can do about that, Ang."

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