Page 7 of Pulse
“A dipshit.”
I laugh. “I wasn’t going to phrase it that way, but I mean, you aren’t wrong.”
Troy chuckles, too. “Nah, he’s a good guy. I gotta be in the right mood for him, but he’s easily managed. Just a headache.”
“Ah,look at you,” I tease. “You’re getting soft on me, Castelli.”
“There’s nothing soft about me, Doll.”
A flush stings my cheeks, just like it does each time he calls medoll. I know it’s just a shortened version of my name. It’s not a term of endearment. Still, itfeelsintimate, whether he means it to or not.
I shift in my seat. “Moving on, did you get your license renewed?”
“How could I ignore the three reminders on my calendar?”
“You couldn’t. That’s why they were there.”
“I renewed it Saturday morning. I only had to wait in line for two hours.” He grimaces. “Such a great way to spend my time.”
“Why didn’t you just do it online?”
“The system kept giving me an error.”
“Poor you.” I smile before taking another sip of my coffee. “Did Ford give you our next assignment?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Our assignment, huh?”
“Yes,our assignment. We’re a team, remember?”
“How about you let me do the office part of our teamwork this time, and you can do the field work?”
I nod knowingly. “Finally.”
“Finally what?”
“You’re finally admitting that I’m badass.”
He scoffs, shaking his head.
“You know it, Castelli. I mean, I’m not wearing a suit and tie, and I’m definitely wearing flat shoes because I can’t chase bad guys in heels.”
Amusement flickers in his eyes.
“But I’m observant, and I’ve been called scary a time or two,” I say. “Heck,you’rescared of me half the time.”
“I love how you believe the shit you say.”
“I love how you pretend you don’t.”
He watches me carefully with a hint of a smile. The lines on his face soften, and the tension in his shoulders eases.
A flood of warmth spreads throughout my body and pools in the apples of my cheeks. I take another drink, hoping the heat of the coffee will provide a solid excuse for the flush if he notices, and then reroute the conversation back to business.
“So what’s next for us?” I ask.
He runs his hands down the arms of the chair and sighs. “I don’t know. Ford gave me a choice.”
“A choice? That’s fun.”
