Page 13 of Worth the Wait

“Cats, dogs… The town of Sunnyville misses you.” He chuckles. “Karaoke night down at The Tavern is boring without you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave a hand at him like he’s crazy.

“I’m serious.” He takes a step forward and puts a hand on the side of my waist. “I’ve missed seeing you.”

“Am I interrupting something here?”

We both jump back at the sound of Grant’s voice in the doorway. “Jesus. It’s like a cop convention in here all of a sudden,” I say and take a step back from Jeff to look over his shoulder at my best friend’s husband.

Grant is six foot plus, with dark hair and a great body. He’s more than easy on the eyes and definitely smitten with my best friend, Emerson. But that little lift to his eyebrows, and glance from Jeff to me and back, is a simple question of is something going on between you two?

Leave it to a man to notice the obvious five months too late.

“Jeff was just dropping off Disco,” I say, lifting the dog in my hands for emphasis.

“I was,” he says, lips twisting and feet shifting. “Pick him up about what time?”

“Four-ish works. And if something happens and you get called to shift, he’s more than welcome to stay till tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Jeff takes a few steps back with a smile on his lips to me and a soft nod and the word “Sir” on his lips to Grant.

We both stand in silence as Jeff’s footsteps retreat and the front door shuts.

“Did you have to scare him off?”

“I’m his superior.”

“I didn’t see either of you in uniform, and I really don’t need the big-brother routine.”

“I don’t have to wear a uniform anymore when I’m on the job.”

“Smart-ass.”

Grant fights a smile and shakes his head as we fall into our typical sibling-ish banter. He looks over his shoulder and then back to me. “He’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”

He might be young, but the boy has skills in the sack.

“And your point is…”

“Maybe that’s why you never have a guy around for more than a few weeks.”

“Maybe I like it that way.” I curtsy and roll my eyes as we repeat the same conversation we’ve had a hundred times. “Not everyone wants what you and Em have.”

“Uh-huh.” He reaches out and pets Disco. “He’s still too young for you.”

“And young means he has stamina.”

“Stamina is one thing, Des. Experience is another.” His grin is wide and crooked, and there’s that sex appeal Emerson fell in love with.

“Let me guess, this is where you inform me that you have experience in spades.”

“I’ll let Emerson tell you what I do or don’t have because this is an odd conversation to have with you,” he says through a laugh, cheeks flushing pink, discomfort all around. “What was he doing here?”

“Back to Jeff already? He was dropping Disco off. You’re the one who sent him here in the first place, so if we were to accidentally fall into bed with each other—again—it’d be all your fault.”

“Again?” He laughs. “Christ. TMI.”

“Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Officer Sexy,” I say, referring to my immediate thoughts, and the nickname I gave him the first time we met a few years back.