Page 55 of Love in the Storm

“You might evenloveher.”

Asa shoved his friend and scoffed. “I’m not in fifth grade. Don’t sing the song.” He glared at Dawson, daring him to say another word about Lyric.

“I don’t know what song you’re talking about.”

“I have work to do. If you’re staying in here, don’t talk.”

It took a full three seconds before Dawson started whispering, “Asa and Lyric sittin’ in a tree.”

“That’s it.” Asa stood and shoved Dawson out of his seat.

It had been days since Asa left the cabin, and none of his calls or texts had been answered. What would he even say if she answered?

Sorry. I really have been on overtime all weekend.

I don’t care about your past.

I miss you.

It all sounded stupid–just as stupid as the rap sheet he’d memorized.

Dawson waited. “Soo is that a yes?”

Asa turned back to his computer. “We should all do a little less talking and a lot more working.”

“You are such a wet blanket.”

“I’m not a wet blanket.” Well, he wasn’t completely sure, but he didn’t want to be one.

“Are too.”

Asa pointed at the door and used his most intimidating scowl. Too bad Dawson wasn’t afraid of anything.

Dawson sighed. “Fine. I’ll go, but will you please call her? I know she has a past. I know she’s trying to do better now. I know she’s not Danielle. Just don’t lose out on something good because you’re too scared to take a chance.”

“I have called her, and it seems like she doesn’t want to talk. Plus, I have Jacob to think about.”

Dawson held up his hands. “I get that. But Lyric hasn’t had a run-in with us in a long time. Jeremy said she’s working at Blackwater Restoration. You said she’s been sober for more than five years. That’s a long time for an alcoholic.”

“How is it any longer for an alcoholic than it is for anyone else?” Asa asked. He got it. He knew the statistics, and he knew the repeat offenders theycame in contact with all the time. Addicts tended to be unpredictable.

“Stop trying to turn things around. The point is that you need to chill out.”

Asa pinched the bridge of his nose. “Telling someone to chill out never works.”

Jason Guthrie walked in and tossed a form onto the desk. He eyed Asa, then Dawson, before narrowing his eyes. “What are you two up to?”

“Solving world hunger,” Dawson quipped before shoving the end of the granola bar into his mouth.

If Asa took his job seriously, Jason held the law above all else and added a heaping helping of cynicism to it. He might have been the youngest officer, but that didn’t stop him from hanging over everyone like a prison warden.

Overall, Dawson and Jason were opposites that needed constant supervision.

Jason pointed at the paper on Asa’s desk. “Boss said for you to take care of that.”

“Got it,” Asa said, picking it up and waving it in the air.

Seriously, the guy needed to take a step back. No one here needed another supervisor.

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