Calvin must have gotten distracted by the worry in Daphne’s voice, because he hadn’t noticed the pickup driver move until the man was sprinting across the pavement toward the old ladies.
“That’s my truck you’re talking about!” he yelled, arms pumping as he sprinted across the road.
Calvin was just a few feet behind Bob, but as he lunged to grab on to the running man, all he got was a handful of cotton shirt. Horror slid through his veins as he saw panic and shock flash across Daphne’s face, followed by grim determination.
“Daphne, get out of the way!”
She did no such thing. She sidestepped in front of her grandmother and braced herself. A second later, the man barreled into her and sent her tumbling. She let out a grunt and rolled on the pavement as Calvin threw himself at the pickup truck driver, tackling him to the ground and then holding him there. His cuffs were in his hand a second later. The man squirmed, then went still, a shout stuck halfway up his throat.
Panting hard as he hauled the man up to his feet, Calvin glared at Daphne, who was sitting on the asphalt, looking dazed.
“Are you hurt?” he barked.
She met his gaze. “No.”
“Will you stop being a damn hero, Davis? I can’t spend all my time worrying about what injuries you’re suffering when you’re getting in the way of me doing my job.” His voice was harsh, and he wasn’t sure if he was angry or just spooked by the way Daphne had gone flying over the asphalt. Her face was still a mess, and if she’d hit the curb wrong ...
“I was getting in the way of my grandmother being attacked by a maniac, Flint,” she shot back.
Said maniac bared his teeth. “She deserved it for insulting my truck.”
“Oh, shut up,” Calvin muttered, then guided the man to the sheriff’s department.
An ambulance parked nearby, and he paused long enough to see the paramedics jump out. He nodded to Daphne and her grandmother. “Davis just got knocked to the ground. Check her for a head injury. She doesn’t seem to be thinking straight. This one will be in a holding cell.”
“I’ll take him and check him for damage,” Teri said. She was a volunteer EMT as well as a sheriff’s deputy, so Calvin handed the man off.
Daphne was hauled up to her feet as she insisted the paramedics check the old ladies ahead of her. Calvin watched on, his anger mounting. Couldn’t she just listen to himonetime? As if she sensed histhoughts, her gaze slid over to meet his. She scowled at him, blue eyes flashing. God, but the woman was infuriating.
Not wanting to bark at Daphne any longer, he turned to the destroyed corner store and headed inside. The shopkeeper had his phone in his hand, probably already calling up his insurance. He looked up and nodded. “Sheriff Flint.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“Heard the screech of tires and then looked up just in time to see him coming through the window. I’ve got cameras pointed at the front door that might have recorded something useful.”
“I’ll take a copy,” Calvin said, his gaze shifting to make sure everything was under control outside. The paramedics were working on the old ladies while Daphne watched on.
The woman made no sense. She was happy to stay locked up in her little office for hours on end, and then she went and got in the way of dangerous people who obviously didn’t mind doing her harm. He didn’t know whether to be angry or appreciative. How everyone saw her as the less impulsive sister was a mystery. She was a menace.
Unable to help himself, he walked across the street and stopped in front of where she sat on the curb. “You’re a menace,” he informed her.
She had her arms crossed on top of her knees and looked up at him through two bruised eyes. The swelling had gone down, but her skin was still mottled a thousand shades of purple, green, and yellow. She arched a brow. “Does the sheriff’s department offer sensitivity classes about how to say thank you? Because I think you could use some.”
“Do you enjoy getting hurt? Is this some sort of fetish?” His jaw was tight, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled or wrap her in his arms and never let go. She could have been hurt—seriously hurt.
“If this is some twisted attempt at finding out my fetishes, it isn’t working, Einstein.”
“How about this, Davis. Next time some deranged maniac comes running at you, youget out of the way.”
Daphne stood up and glared at him. She leaned forward so her chest nearly brushed his. The scent of her went straight to Calvin’s head. When she spoke, her voice was low. “Don’t pretend like you care, Flint.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can play good guy now, but we both know you’ve hated me for almost twenty years. A fancy uniform and a shiny new badge doesn’t change that.”
He blinked, staring into those startlingly blue eyes. Even with the bruises, she was a beautiful woman. Fierce in a quiet sort of way that no one seemed to notice except for him. He wondered if she hid that steel on purpose, if she liked being treated like Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes because it made people underestimate her. Then her words sank in. “You think I hate you?”
“Oh, please.”