Page 28 of Junkyard Dog

But at least the jerk kept his hands to himself.

She groaned and rolled her head back. “Well, Becky isn’t speaking to me now because apparently Kevin decided to go around the station and ask about me.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “He’s the guy Becky was caught with in the break room.” She shuddered. “Guys like that are just so ew.” Her gaze shifted to the table of women watching Alex with obvious interest and her smile fell slightly.

He pushed back the urge to abandon his post and head out into town to hunt down Kevin. “You know, you could have just told him you have a boyfriend.”

Her dark eyes dropped to her coffee, her cheeks lifting as she fought back a smile. “Boyfriend, eh?”

Catching his own words too late, he crossed his arms and took a slight step away. “Yeah, well, isn’t that what women say when guys don’t take the hint?”

Dammit.

Dating was casual. Relaxed.

The boyfriend label held a lot more expectations. Expectations he couldn’t fulfill.

As though sensing his unease, she shook her head and looked up at him. “Me saying no to one guy shouldn’t need to be justified by the existence of another guy. If I say no, that should be good enough. I won’t back myself up with some fictional boyfriend to have my decision validated.” She smirked at him and picked up her coffee. “You really do suck at dating.”

He watched her as she joined the other rangers, pulling a chair up beside Max and holding up a lemon slice for him.

You’re a moron.

Every day that passed was another day Alex was digging himself into a hole. The more he talked with Charlotte, the more he wanted her. The more he wanted her, the more he thought about her. And the more he thought about her, the more his time and energy was divided.

Personal history taught him the sooner he slept with her, the sooner she’d be out of his system and out of his head. It was a foolproof system that had served him well in the past.

But this…

He walked into the back room to grab a few cases of beer, calling over to Thomas as he passed by. “I promoed a round of tequila for the rangers,” he said, hefting two cases up. “Max and Charlotte finished night shift.”

Thomas grunted. “I’ll write off their meals, too.” He picked up the last case of beer and followed Alex. “I don’t like that girl working nights. Especially with some psycho on the loose.”

“Me either,” he muttered, opening the beer cooler as he glanced back at the loud group.

Thomas passed him a few bottles. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Just hanging out.”

Setting the rest of the case at Alex’s feet, Thomas snorted. “I’m old. Not stupid. Who’s keeping who at arm’s length?”

*

Charlotte huffed andfinished off the rest of her coffee. “We’re just friends.”

The women at the table leveled her with a flat stare. “Really,” Becky stated, apparently prepared to forgo the silent treatment in exchange for gossip. “Let’s put that to the test.”

She stood up and sashayed over to the bar, leaning far over the counter to give Alex a view of her cleavage. Charlotte feigned disinterest as Alex smiled at Becky and poured her a drink, nodding at something she said. When Becky tilted her head to the side and pushed a small piece of paper across the bar, he took a step back and leaned on the counter until she walked away.

Becky set her drink down on the table and looked around at the expectant women. “I gave him my number and a good view of the twins,” she announced, giving her breasts a quick tap and lifting her brows. “He didn’t look at either one, told me I was sweet, and said he’s taken. Who’s he taken by, Chuck?”

Flashing back to Alex’s obvious panic over his use of the termboyfriend, she shrugged as her phone buzzed. Grateful for the interruption, she looked down at the message.“More coffee?”

She typed in her affirmation quickly, biting back a smile.

“Here he comes,” Becky sang, sitting back and crossing her arms under her bust.

The coffeepot appeared in her peripheral vision as Alex topped up her cup and addressed the group. “Anyone hungry?”

He took the orders of the others, leaving her for last. “Miss Charlotte?”

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