Page 5 of Flint's Battle

“You always need me to do you a huge favor. In fact, you owe me so many, it’s gonna take years for you to pay them all back.” She paused for a moment. “What’s up?”

“It’s Mr. Snider. He’s made six calls in the last hour claiming those lights are going on and off in the factory again. He seems convinced people are moving crates in and out.” Barry sighed. “I’d send a unit over to check, but I’ve got a MVA buggering everything up on the north end, a bunch of college kids mooning tourists on the east side, and vice is on a stakeout. And as I recall, Mr. Snider is sweet on you. Never seems to call back if you go and talk to him.”

“That’s because I don’t treat the man as if he’s crazy just because he’s in his eighties. Sure, his eyesight is questionable,and he watches way too many political thrillers, but he’s not crazy. More lonely than anything.”

“So, is that a yes? I promise, I’ll bring you those salted caramel latte drinks you love every day for a week.”

“Do you really think I’m that easy to bribe?”

“Everyone has a weakness, and you down those things like they’re crack.” Barry grunted. “Fine. I’ll throw in a muffin.”

Emery snorted. “Promise they’ll be the maple sugar ones and not those banana walnut ones that only you like, and I might consider it.”

“A latte and a muffin every day for the next week.”

“Deal. But you’ll still owe me.”

“Thanks, Emery. You’re the best. Give me a shout when you’re done, so I don’t worry.”

“Just call the man back, and tell him I’ll be there in five so he’s expecting me.”

“Roger.”

Flint gave her a quick glance. “So, you’ve been holding out on me. You didn’t say I have competition. Mr. Snider, huh?”

He had competition? Had Flint actually said that? Out loud? Because she’d been waiting for him to ask her out since the first night they’d met, but he’d kept things strictly platonic. To the point she was starting to think she’d read everything wrong, and she was the only one who was slowly melting into a puddle of lust.

She gave herself a mental shake. He was obviously joking. Though, based on the predatory gleam in his eyes, it didn’t seem as if he was kidding. In fact, it looked as if he intended on staking his claim, and with more than just the offer to drive her home.

“Emery? Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

She groaned inwardly. Now he thought she was hurt, again. “Fine. And Mr. Sniderisquite the catch. He’s also ex-military, so…”

Flint smiled, and god, the way his face lit up. It took him from handsome to stunning in a heartbeat. “Ex-military, huh? I can work with that. Especially, if it means you’ve got a type. What’s his address?”

She had a type?

The man was going to give her whiplash with how quickly he was changing gears.

She brought up the map on her nav and typed in his address. “It’s a small cottage that overlooks an abandoned factory. It’s a popular spot for fraternities to send their new pledges for the night. And they often bring stuff with them. But I don’t want to discount anything just because the last dozen claims turned out to be nothing. He might be getting up in years, but the man’s still sharp.”

“Which is why he’s sweet on you. It’s like I said. You’re extremely good at your job.”

“Let’s hope you still think that when it turns out to be toga-wearing frat boys with coolers of beer.”

Flint laughed, the low rasp rumbling through her chest. Maybe she did have a head injury and was imagining the increased sexual tension between them. Because she swore he’d never been this invested before.

Flint pulled into Snider’s driveway, parking the Jeep off to one side. She’d barely gotten her seatbelt unclipped before he was opening her door for her — offering his hand.

She arched a brow but slid her palm across his when he simply stood there, waiting. “I’m not going to fall.”

“Then, I’ll hold your hand because I can.”

“You’re acting weird. Are you sure I’m the one who got hit in the head?”

“Wanting to hold your hand is weird?”

“It is when you haven’t wanted to hold it before.”

---