Page 22 of Call it Reckless

“Lex, you know that’s not how we do things,” I reminded her with a stern tone that, thankfully, still worked. I never wanted to leave things between us on an unpleasant note. I’d learned the hard way that one never knew if they would be the last words, especially in my line of work.

Hazel eyes identical to her mother’s swung back to me.

I tipped my head. “I love you, cupcake. You are my sunshine, you know.” I sang the words I used to sing to her when she was a baby, doing my best Sinatra imitation until her mood cracked, and she smiled at me.

“I love you, too, Daddy. But maybe I could skip just this—”

“Off you go.” I stretched over to open the door for her.

She laughed. “I had to try.”

The car behind me beeped, a little daring in my mind since I was in my patrol SUV. Lexi saw my scowl. She tipped her head down, arched her eyebrows, and looked over pretend glasses. In a tone that sounded almost exactly like Julia Child, she said, “One must never lose their patience in public.” She pinched her face like she’d sucked a lemon, a perfect imitation of old lady Pettigrew.

It was my turn to laugh. “She’s right. Out you go. I’ll pick you up after school.” I watched as she gathered her backpack and swung it over her shoulder as she waved to a group of girls and hurried to join them as they migrated toward the entrance.

Images of her as a teen hit me. She was growing up so fast, and soon, she wouldn’t need me. But then, just before she walked through the double doors into the school, she turned and wiggled her fingers goodbye. I blew her a kiss back, relieved we’d made it through another Tuesday morning.

The teacher on duty gave me a dirty look for holding up traffic as a couple of cars pulled around me. “Oh, screw you,” I mumbled.

I never saidIwent to etiquette school.

* * *

I collapsed at my desk,making my chair squeak in protest.

“Sorry, Sammy,” I said to the cat, who somehow had wormed his way into becoming our mascot.

He’d been rescued by one of the other deputies. Instead of taking the kitten to the shelter where he was afraid it would be euthanized, he brought it back to the offices, hoping one of us would be willing to care for the emaciated little guy.

For a bunch of supposedly tough and busy law enforcement officers, we’d immediately taken to making sure the cat thrived. We fed him, gave him vitamins, and got a litter box. Eventually, toys and a bed showed up. He’d officially been adopted by the entire sheriff’s office and was given the name Sergeant Sam, but most of us called him “Sammy.”

In return, he’d adopted each of us in his own way. For me, he liked to wind about my feet, purring. For the boss, he liked to sit on the chair opposite his desk, tail twitching, and stare at him as if to ask what needed to be done next.

Sammy stared at me with disdainful eyes beneath my desk before jumping to my lap. A few scratches between the ears and all was forgiven if his increased purring was an indicator. I slowly felt my tension leave.

I wished I’d had time to grab a coffee this morning, but I’d overslept, and Lexi’s antics this morning hadn’t helped. Maybe I’d be able to hit up Emalee later. She always had coffee available for her guests.

Until then, I grabbed a couple of reports and caught up on what happened on my day off yesterday.

“Hey, Braxton!” a voice shouted. “Heard you went for a walk on thelighter side this past weekend.”

I glanced around at the other desks. Sammy jumped from my lap and settled among the other smirking faces staring back from around our crowded bullpen. I couldn’t wait until the new sheriff’s building was finished so we wouldn’t have to share such cramped quarters. We’d been an increasingly growing law enforcement agency, and the county and town council had finally understood we needed more than one floor of the town hall.

“Shut it, Harrington,” I answered the grinning officer. I reached into the middle drawer for a pen, but instead of the usual general office supplies, I found an assortment of lighters.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, slamming the drawer shut.

“Don’t you mean ‘son of aBic?’” another deputy called out, making everyone laugh, even Sheriff Kirchner, who was watching from his doorway.

I finally cracked a smile. They’d gotten me. I knew it was better to laugh at myself than to make a big deal out of it. I’d been on the giving end of one or two pranks in my time here. Still chuckling, they went back to their business.

Simone, one of the civilian clerks, dropped some papers marked with a “sign here” sticky note on my desk. She leaned over, flashing me enough of a view to know her bra matched her red lipstick. “Morning, Reid. Don’t let them get to you.”

I nodded but didn’t bother replying. It didn’t stop her from lingering. “You were so brave going into that house alone. You never know what kind of trouble you might have found there.” She batted her lashes at me as she sat her ass on the corner of my desk.

I didn’t know much about makeup, but it didn’t take a genius to figure that Simone had extended her lashes with something fake, much like she had her nails. And her boobs, for that matter.

Not like a certain girl I’d spent time with yesterday.

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