Page 30 of Beauty and the Cop
Noah
"Lieutenant wants us inhis office when we check on shift tonight."
"Uh, sucks for him," I mutter, slipping out the front door with my phone clutched between my shoulder and cheek. "I'm not on shift tonight."
"What the fuck?" Jackson bitches in my ear. "Since when?"
"Since I swapped with Ashton."
"You son of a bitch. You're making me work with Ashton?"
My lips curve into a smirk. "Yeah. Consider it payback for damn near getting me shot last night."
"That wasn't my fault. I told you the fucker was going to try to shoot us. Did you listen? Fuck no. Do you ever listen? Also, fuck no," Jackson says. "Would have served your ignorant ass right if he had shot you. Why aren't you on shift tonight?"
"Busy."
"Right." He snorts. "Creeping on Elsie through the window doesn't qualify as busy, motherfucker."
"Eat a dick." I jog down the front steps, my feet thumping on the cement. "I don't creep on her."
"Uh-huh," he says in a tone that says he thinks I'm full of shit. Whatever though. I don't creep on her. Is it my fault that our living room windows perfectly align? No. Is it my fault I have eyes? Also, no.
Besides, if he lived across from Elsie, he'd be watching her too. She's fucking gorgeous. Actually, scratch that. If he lived across from her, I'd have to kill him. He isn't allowed to look at her. I don't care if he is in love with his fiancée. I don't want his eyes anywhere near my girl.
"Jesus Christ," I whisper, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the street when Elsie wanders into my line of sight through her window. Faint light trickles through the glass, illuminating her as she paces back and forth across her living room with her phone clutched to her ear, probably gossiping with her bestie back home.
The way she's got her blonde hair pinned up has my fingers itching to search out every pin and toss them aside, just so I can see those pretty curls cascading freely down her back. The curls end just above her waist, accentuating her curvy body in all the right ways.
Christ. Those fucking curves drive me crazy.
Every damn thing about her is soft and sweet. She's a little touch of desperately needed sunshine in my life, one that seems more necessary to my survival every damn day.
The pricks and thieves I deal with every day would never dream of licking frosting from a spoon with relish like she does. Cocaine residue, maybe. Hell, probably even a few other things. Neither group cares much for the simple things in life, though. They live for the next fix or a quick buck. Never anything as innocent as frosting straight from the container, or control of the remote.
"I gotta go. I've got shit to do," I mutter to Jackson, my feet stalling on the sidewalk.
"Like I said, creeping on your hot neighbor doesn't classify as something to do, Noah."
"We're going out tonight, dick."
"Hoy shit. Is that what last night was about? You finally grew a pair?"
"Man, fuck you. I always had a pair." It's true. I did have a pair. I just needed to remember that the best things in life take a little risk.
Could this end in disaster? Absolutely. Could I lose her forever? Yes. But it doesn't matter if that's a possibility because I'm not going to let it happen. She's mine. I feel that truth resonating in my bones. Everything else can be worked out.Wewill work it out, but we'll do it together.
"Right. It just took you for-fucking-ever because why?"
I don't have a good answer for him, at least not one he'd understand. The truth is, she matters more than anything ever has. I've spent most of my adult life focused on my career. Being a homicide detective has been what I've always wanted more than anything. At least, that's what I thought until Elsie moved in across from me.
Somewhere over the course of the last month, I realized that I have a hole in my life, one shaped like her. It's meant to fit not just anyone, but her, specifically. My career will never fill it. Only she can do that.
She's already filling it.
She's made my life better just by being in it. But I was worried as hell that, if I crossed the line, she'd shut me down. And then, instead of being invited into her life, I'd be forced into the shadows exactly like a goddamn creep, relegated to watching her through her windows instead of sitting beside her on her old, worn sofa.
That ship sailed when she asked me to kiss her. It exploded into pieces when she came all over my hand and then fell asleep in my arms. I'm not going to pretend I'm not in love with her anymore. I can't do that shit again, not when doing it led to me being a dick and making her cry.
