Page 31 of Cop Blocked

As everyone else starts to leave, Kelsey and I hang back and help Zoey and Dylan clean up. By the time we’ve gotten their house mostly back in order, all of our kids are sprawled out on the living room floor, either sound asleep or nearly there.

“Why don’t you leave them here for the night?” Zoey offers. “Gabby asked if a few friends could stay, we told her we’d have to wait and see, but I think they might have already made that call for us.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Rhys is the first to agree. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to take my wife out on a date.”

“Rhys!” Kelsey smacks his arm. “That’s a lot of kids, Zoey. Are you two sure?”

“Kelsey’s right. Plus, I’m not sure how Piper would do if she wakes and I’m not here. I don’t think they’ll sleep all night. It’s still pretty early,” I add.

Zoey shakes her head. “Nonsense. We can handle it. I’m sure Piper will be fine. She’s stayed here before, with you. If she needs you, we’ll call. In the meantime, you can go find that brooding man of yours and figure all this out.”

Smitty bangs his hand on the dining room table. “Maybe she should keep her ass away from Logan. You keep pushing, but I’m telling you, he’s only going to fuck all this up.”

“Oh, no. You didn’t, did you?” Zoey spins and looks at her husband. “You did not say something to him. Tell me you didn’t, Dylan Smith. I swear on all that is holy if you got in the middle of this, you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the rest of your life.”

Dylan huffs. “Someone had to give it to him straight.”

I gasp and fight back the tears that threaten to fall.

“Rachel, he’s not a bad guy, but is he really what you need for yourself and your little girl? What about when he deploys again? Are you going to be able to handle it when he’s gone for months at a time? Think about that. He runs headfirst into some crazy ass situations. Puts his life on the line every damn day. You need someone who’s going to be around for the long haul, not some adrenaline junky Marine turned beat cop.”

“You know what, Dylan. I don’t think that’s up to you or anyone else to decide what’s best for Piper and me. I can’t think of a more heroic guy to be with if he loves his country that much, his community. If he’s willing to put his life on the line for a bunch of strangers, simply because he believes in making this world a better place, then I’d say I would be pretty damn lucky to be with someone like him. There would be no better man to set an example for Piper.”

“None of that fucking matters though when he’s too damn scared of commitment and children. You really think you’re going to be the one to change his mind?”

Everyone in the room is eyeing Dylan and me in shock.

“Maybe and maybe not. One thing I do know, putting space between the two of us was one of the stupidest things I ever did. That and thinking I could trust the two of you to be supportive.” I look at Zoey. “Thanks for offering to keep Piper. It’s best if we go.”

I don’t look back. Instead, I gather my things and pick Piper up from where she’s sleeping and carry her out to my car.

SEVENTEEN

Logan

After talking with Gunner, I realize that I missed a message from Rachel. I debate reading it, worried about what it might say.

Curiosity wins out, and I open the unread message. The cats. She’s asking me about “Smokey and Lucky,” the kittens thatInamed Mo and Larry until today. They were promptly re-named by a spunky three-year-old, Piper. And damn if I didn’t go right along with it.

Proof that I am not cut out for this sort of thing.

Hell, I was ready to hand over one of these little critters the minute she pouted. Thankfully, I have a little bit of common sense left, and I’ve learned from all my married friends about what happens when you undermind THE MOM.

One more reason why this is all a bad idea? The kittens are out of formula. Granted, I did call Marco this morning and asked him to leave a few cans at the front desk for me. I had my head so far up my ass, worrying about birthday presents and all this Rachel stuff, I forgot to pick it up. Stellar parenting right there.

Their loud meows are all I need to hear to know they’re not very happy with me right now.

“Alright, you two. Cut me a break; I’m on it.” I pet them both and snatch my keys off the counter, where I tossed them less than twenty minutes ago. “I’ll be right back with your food.”

This time, I hop in my Mustang, leaving my truck parked and giving my favorite girl some overdue attention, taking the backroads to Marco’s vet clinic.

Kitten formula in hand, I’m back in the car and heading home, via 263, so I can fill up my tank too when a dump truck crosses the center line a few car lengths in front of me and collides with a small sedan.

Traffic stops, a few other vehicles narrowly miss colliding, too. I immediately slow down and pull off onto the side of the road as far as I can before darting across the street to check on everyone involved.

The driver of the dump truck is already out of the cab of the truck. I can tell by the way he’s stumbling around that he’s probably drunk. I ignore my intuition about him and go to the passengers in the car first while calling in to dispatch directly.

“It’s Officer Logan Walsh, badge number 24385. There’s an accident Route 263 Northbound between the Chevron and SAB. Sedan versus a dump truck. We’re going to need at least two medic units, possibly a third. Rescue may be required. I’m going to the sedan to check on the passengers, but the driver of the dump truck may be under the influence.”

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