Page 16 of Bloody Bargain
“C’mon, do you have to call me that?”
“Hell yeah, I do!” Reed exclaimed. “How many times have you found my keys or stopped my bag from getting stolen out at Mass and Cass? Or what about the time I couldn’t find my wedding ring, and you stopped me from using the disposal because your spidey sense told you it was stuck down there? You’re so damned good at that shit, I’m tempted to take you to Vegas as my arm candy for a poker stint.”
“I’m not even Irish!”
“Woman, don’t you try to get off the subject. Date night. The horizontal hokey pokey. How was it?” my partner begged with steepled fingers.
“Jesus, Reed, horny much?”
He wriggled in his seat like an impatient toddler.
“Don’t call me out like that. I’m a married man and Glenn’s schedule is opposite mine this week.”
“Sounds like you need to pay Glenn a visit at the ward,” I teased, making an obscene gesture with my hand, tongue pressed into the side of my cheek.
“You think I haven’t tried? I’m in love with a lawful good and it’s killing my chaotic neutral soul.”
“Nah, I thinkedgingis the word you’re looking for.”
“Pleaseserve me some tea. This is torture!”
I shrugged, looking away. “I didn’t invite him back.”
Reed’s mouth fell open. “But… You two have been undressing each other with your eyes for weeks now. Nothing? You just decided, hmm, I like this puppy in the window, but I’m going to leave it right here, all sad and horny.”
I nearly spit out my peas and broccoli, looking around wildly for any of the guys, or worse, our supervisor.
“Not so loud!”
“Hey, you’re the one leaving me out to dry. I thought it was a done deal!”
I sighed, suddenly pensive. I pushed some food around on my plate, the slop that passed for gravy mixing with my other foods. “I don’t know, Reed. You know I don’t like complicated. Gavin’s nice–”
“And a hunk.”
I glared at him.“Andobviously looking for something long-term. You know I’m not that kind of girl. At least not right now.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Reed sighed, not at all satisfied.
Reed sat back and let out a frustrated breath, but nodded in understanding. The walkie on his shoulder barked with a nasally voice and static. He picked it up, turning the volume knob as we both listened for the repeat.
“Dispatch to Vehicle A4, what’s your location, over?”
Setting down his fork, Reed chugged the last of his coffee and stood. I got up with him and started putting our trays away as he raised the walkie to his mouth.
“A4 to Dispatch, 10-8, over. Finishing up breakfast.”
“We have a Delta-2-4-Bravo-2 at Ruggles Station. Request for immediate assistance, over.”
“Copy that. We’re riding out, over.”
“What’s up?” I asked, preoccupied with the buttons on my field jacket. We fell in stride, running toward our vehicle.
“Woman in labor, life-threatening, anonymous tip.” He unlocked our ambulance, which we affectionately called Bessy, and I slid into the driver’s seat.
“Guess we’ll have to talk about my love life later.”
As soon as his door was shut, I drove us out of the garage, turned on the lights, and hit the sirens.
