Page 17 of Ghosted in Arkadia
“Anything else, princess?” Killian’s eyebrows rise above his glasses, and it’s all I can do not to reach out and knock them off.
Instead, I face the image of myself with a playful smirk. I look far too optimistic. My reflection frowns, and then a smile tips upward when I recognize myself better wearing a scowl.
“Why don’t you grab us some chips?” he suggests before heading toward the coffee machines.
I pick out a few bags and toss them onto the counter before looking back up at Charles. He has a smirk on his face, his eyebrow raised, while he looks like a frog failing to hold back a croak. A bubble of laughter comes out of me as I imagine Charles as an old bullfrog, catching Charles off guard.
“There’s something different about you, Kira,” Charles says as he rings up our snacks. “Everyone needs someone.”
My body feels like it’s been electrified, and I worry my soulmate chose this moment to draw a penis onmyforehead.
“This enough cream?” Killian asks, producing a cup of coffee the color of cheesecake.
“That… is actually perfect,” I offer with a smirk. “Cathy used to say I liked a splash of coffee in my cream.” I picture her in my mind, too clearly, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest at the memory.
“You looked like the type,” Killian says as he places the lid on the cup before putting it on the counter. The motion gives me enough time to take a deep breath and ignore the pangs.
“Yeah? What type is that?” I say, turning to the side, facing Killian directly.
He leans against the counter, standing with a casual confidence before handing his card to Charles. “You drink coffee for warm comfort, not caffeine. And I bet you have at least a dozen blankets floating around your house.”
Charles gives Killian back his card and pushes a bag full of our drinks and snacks toward us.
“I’ve got the next haul.” I gesture toward the stuff I didn’t get to pay for.
“Don’t worry about it.” Killian grabs the bag and heads for the door, opening it and waiting for me.
“Can I grab my key now?” I ask Charles, holding my hand out.
He places the extra key to the woman’s bathroom in my palm.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I breathe, pocketing it. Charles had made a key for Cathy and me to use whenever we used his parking lot, as long as we bought snacks from him.
It is a win-win situation.
“Should I have a man’s key made?” Charles asks, nodding toward Killian, still patiently waiting.
“Couldn’t hurt.” I shrug. “Thanks, Charles.” I grab my coffee from the counter and move toward Killian. “I think he likes you,” I whisper as I pass, motioning my head back to Charles.
“I’m going to take Rex for a stretch,” Killian says before opening the passenger door and placing the bag and his coffee inside.
Looking at Killian over the cruiser’s top, I tap my fingers to get his attention. “Just open the door and let him out. He knows to stay close.”
Killian opens the back door, and Rex bursts out, determined to sniff every fresh smell in the lot. “You sure he won’t take off?” Killian looks in the direction the dog went.
“He’ll be good, and we won’t keep him out long. He lets us know when he needs something.” I leave Killian to make up his own mind on police dog training as I get into the cruiser and take the lid off my coffee so it can cool to a more reasonable temperature.
Killian stays outside, monitoring Rex until opening the back door and calling for the dog to return.
“All good?” I ask as he gets into his seat.
“Yeah, just not what I expected.” Killian chuckles as he settles in and grabs a bag of chips.
“Thought there would be more bad guys to chase?” I ask, assuming that Killian wasn’t prepared for the boredom.
“Something different,” he muses before looking out the window at the warehouse for a few minutes of deepcontemplation before turning back to me. “Do we just sit here and hope that crime happens?”
“Some days, that’s exactly what we do. Call those the best days because it means peace. And honestly, don’t expect to be on patrol or active calls soon. Not hitched to me. A lot of your days are going to be spent sitting next to me in a car. Parked or driving. That’s most days on this job.” I end my impromptu speech, wondering why I feel so angry.
