Page 12 of Saved By the Officers

Clothes, gym bags, boots—the place was a mess.

Tearing my eyes from the chaos, I watched Trap as he walked back into the room, still not wearing a shirt—which I was totally okay with despite my worry of him being cold. Before I could get a word out, he dropped to his knees in front of me and grabbed a frozen foot.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sure, I knew his name now, but that was about it. Though it was more confusion than fear that flooded my system.

Instead of responding, he continued working one large sock over my foot before gently setting it to the floor and shifting to the other foot.

Stunned at his incredible act of kindness, it took me a few tries to speak when he finished and looked up from where he kneeled. “Thank you?” I said finally.

The worry lines along his forehead faded. Fine wrinkles fanned out from the corners of his eyes above a wide grin. “You’re welcome. Now here, trade me.” He groaned, shoving off his bent knees. Standing to full height, which was several inches taller than my average five foot seven, he held out a black hooded sweatshirt in one hand and gestured for the kitten with the other.

His concern for a stranger and extreme thoughtfulness were startling and slightly unnerving considering I came from NYC. It felt like I was in a Hallmark movie. Or I was dreaming, or the attacker outside was an actual threat, and this was heaven. Though as I took the soft cotton and slipped it over my head, I knew I wasn’t. It just felt fake. No one was this nice to a stranger. Or as gorgeous with their shirt off in real life.

Well, except for the other sexy-as-sin man who lived here.

Damnit. I should not be having these kinds of thoughts, no matter how attracted I am to the two men. One, they’re not into my lady bits. Two, I just filed for divorce and am technically still married. Though our so-called marriage has been over for years.

I had way too many problems to add lusting over my gay neighbors to the list.

Shoving pieces of crazy hair out of my face, I offered Trap a tight smile and cleared my throat. “Thank you for this,” I said, waving to the sweatshirt that engulfed me. “I should get going—”

A pitiful cry came from the bundled shirt, cutting me off and making me forget my sound reasoning for leaving. My heart sank as the kitten’s tiny head poked up from the rumpled shirt, yellow eyes locking on me.

“What should we do with him or her?” I asked.

Without a response, Trap spun on his heels and started toward what I assumed was the kitchen because of the similar layout to my temporary home. Inside, he flicked on the lights and moved to the small white fridge.

“We have some milk in here. That will have to do for now. One of our friends is a vet. We can call her in the morning and see if we can swing by her place to give this little thing a clean bill of health.”

“We?” I said, taking a seat at the four-person round table tucked in the kitchen's corner. I couldn’t help but study the way his muscles flexed and moved as he pulled out a bowl from an upper cabinet after grabbing a half gallon of milk.

“Yes, we. You’re in this too,” he said with a smirk. Taking the chair beside me, he flopped down and poured an inch of the cold milk into the bowl.

“Can you put a shirt on?” I said before I could stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. I slapped a still-slightly numb hand across my lips. His grin turned mischievous as he slowly unwrapped the kitten. “Sorry, this is your house. It’s just, uh….”

Words, Georgia. Words would be good here.

But none came. Apparently, in the years married to Barrett, forgotten by him for most of it, I’d lost the ability to communicate to a hot, slightly nude male. Well, let’s be honest, even if he was fully dressed, charming people was Barrett’s thing. Mine was computers.

Those, thankfully, never expected me to be normal.

“Distracting you, am I?” he responded with a wink. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he flexed a little, too, making his pecs and shoulders appear more defined.

“Well, yeah,” I begrudgingly admitted with a sigh. It was okay to admit that, right? Since I knew the attraction wasn’t mutual. “And I don’t want to disrespect your partner.”

His cocky smirk faltered, and his light brown brows pulled in tight. “Shade?”

“Yeah.” Pretty sure that was the unique name he and Max mentioned. Who am I kidding? Of course, I remembered. Pretty sure I could describe both of them with accuracy to a sketch artist based on how hard I stared at them yesterday. “I don’t want to be rude, you know.” My words hung in the air as the kitten ventured out of Trap’s shirt, edging toward the bowl of milk. “The last thing I need is for my new neighbors to hate me for ogling what isn’t mine.”

“Ogling, huh?”

I shot him a smirk. “Come on. You two have to know how you look.”

“So, what is it you need?”

“Huh?” Keeping my movement slow, I reached across the table toward the kitten, my smirk turning to a wide smile when it didn’t hiss and back away. Its soft fur brushed along my fingertips as it lapped up the free milk with gusto.

“You said the last thing you needed was for your neighbors to hate you. So what’s the first thing you need? And remember, I’m well aware that you moved in temporarily next door. Max doesn’t give us specifics regarding the people he brings in, but we’re two of the few in this town who are in the know.”

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