Page 14 of Leaving Lando

She folds her arms. “Did he sleep on the couch?”

“No.”

Jade says, “You slept in his bed with him and nothing happened?”

I squirm. “He might have kissed me.”

“Might have?” Quinn demands.

“All right, he kissed me.” Twice. And I came all over his fingers in his truck. “Happy now?”

They exchange glances. “What?” I demand.

“Nothing,” they say in unison. I glare at them, but break’s over. We all get back to work.

* * *

A heavy graydawn has lightened the sky when Lando comes in. We’re in the middle of our morning rush; the bakery is crammed with people getting coffee and pastries on their way to work. I make him his usual coffee order, and he spies the peanut butter chocolate bars and grins. “I’ll have one of those.”

“Try this first.” I hand him a sliver of heaven on a piece of napkin.

He looks at it. “Lemon bar?”

“Just taste it.”

Popping it in his mouth, he starts to chew … and then he gets The Look on his face. The one that signals we’ve got another hit. He swallows and asks, “What isthat?”

“Our newest creation. The lemon-lavender dream bar.”

His eyebrows go up. “Lavender? No kidding. It tastes like a dream, all right. They ready to go?”

“They are.”

“Give me two.”

I beam at him and go to wrap them up. When I come back, a woman at the counter says, “Can I get one of those?”

“Me too,” says the man next to her.

I look at Quinn, and she nods. We’ll make another batch, to stave off a riot, and then they’ll go into our regular rotation. “Coming right up,” I tell them, and give Lando his bag. “See you later.”

He holds my gaze. “See you,” he says, with a quiet intensity, and I start to melt. Then he’s gone, and I can breathe again. I catch Quinn and Jade giving each other meaningful looks, but there’s no time to hassle them about it.

* * *

By four o’clock that afternoon,I’m dead on my feet. It took me a while to get to sleep last night; my brain kept replaying everything that happened with Lando and his family. I’m still on edge.

The dance between me and Lando is starting to feel like more than lust, and it worries me. Sex, we can handle. We don’t need to complicate the situation with all sorts of emotions. That’s when things get messy and people get hurt.

Friends with benefits, I remind myself as I finish packing up cop goodies. Keep things nice and easy and fun. That’s the ticket.

Standing before the door to the alley, I brace myself . Much as I hate to admit it, Lando’s right; I need to start bringing a sweater to work so I can layer it under my jacket before I go out. I mentally prepare to run all the way to the police station, then fling the door open.

Lando’s truck is sitting right in front of me, engine running. He’s at the wheel. I’m so shocked I almost let the door hit me on the rebound, but catch it just in time. Ducking into the alley, I lock up while a bitter wind sends trash scudding down the alley.

When I turn, he’s got the passenger door open. I climb up into a toasty-warm cab and groan in gratitude. “Thanks.”

“Buckle up.”

It’s only a few blocks to the station, but I put my seat belt on like a good girl. He has us there in no time. “Better zip your coat up,” he says when he pulls into a slot in the parking lot. “Wind’s still gusting.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but do as he says. The wind tears at us, whipping my hair and freezing my ears and my nose. We go in the back and up the stairs as usual, into the bullpen.

That’s where ordinary ends.

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