Page 33 of Love Under Protection

Peaches is standing guard at the door and starts barking before the very first knock. Judging by the way her whole body is shaking with her tail wagging, I don’t even need to bother looking.

Sure enough, Olivia is waiting when I open the door. Peaches yelps and jumps on her owner while Olivia fawns over her, asking the furball if I’ve been taking care of her while she was away.

If dogs could talk, I’m sure Peaches would tell Olivia all about the steak dinner we shared and how her walks are never quite long enough—in her mind. Oh, and I’m sure she’d tell Olivia about how I wouldn’t let her chase the squirrel in Central Park. But she’d leave out the part about how she puked in my patrol car when I took her to work with me to take care of some admin stuff.

“Was she a good girl?” Olivia finally looks at me and sing songs.

“Define good.” I smirk.

“You’re evil.”

“Hey, I am not. I took good care of her.” I pretend that I’m not trying to look around her and catch a glimpse of Raylynn.

Jameson let it slip when he dropped Peaches off to me on Thursday night that Raylynn was actually coming to New York. I haven’t been waiting on pins and needles for them to get back. Nope. Not at all.

“She’s lying down. Migraine,” Olivia leans in and whispers. “Jameson said to tell you to get your ass down to the garage and help him with the rest of her boxes.”

I snort. Of course, he did.

“Come on, we can go together. I’ll take this one for a potty break.” Olivia tugs on my arm.

“Christ woman. Let me get my keys at least.” I pull back from her grasp to pocket my keys that are on the counter. “You’re going to need this too.” I hand her Peaches’ leash.

“Chop, chop.” She giggles behind me as I walk to the elevator.

“How much coffee have you had today?” I inquire. That’s the only thing that could possibly explain her level of giddiness. No one should be this excited about moving boxes.

“It wasn’t the coffee,” she whispers with a blush.

“Ah, fuck. Forget I asked.” What the hell is it with these two? Ugh.

Jameson is leaning on the side of the moving van, scrolling through his phone when I step into the garage.

“Really, man? Come to help you. You’re standing there holding up the truck, I jib.

“Whatever. Grab some boxes, and let's do this.”

I eye the contents in the back of the truck and the single moving cart. “Hold that thought,” I throw up a finger and dart back inside, headed for the maintenance office.

My luck, Jake is on duty tonight and is all too happy to lend me one of their carts. “Appreciate it, man.”

“Sure thing. Next time I get in trouble with the law, I’ll call you.” He chuckles.

Like that would ever happen. Jake isn’t one to cause trouble.

This time Jameson is actually unloading boxes when I get back.

“Oh damn, look at you, smart guy,” he says, piling another box on his cart.

“Pays to play nice with the maintenance staff,” I tell him as I climb in the back and grab a box.

Three trips are all it takes to empty the moving truck. Part of me wonders if that’s all she has but I don’t dare ask out loud. It’s not my business.

“Taking this back to Jake, I’ll catch you later, man.” I start to make my exit before I actually come face to face with Raylynn. This whole time she hasn’t emerged from her room.

“Come back after you drop that off, we’ll grab some food,” Jameson offers.

“Nah, I’m good. Got some work I can catch up on.” I’m halfway out the door when I stop and call over my shoulder. “By the way, Peaches prefers vanilla cake donuts from the corner bakery. You can thank Cap for that.”

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