Page 54 of Sergeant O'
“If I recall correctly, you didn’t mind playing along.”
Her hand went to her hip.
“Like I had a choice.”
“Sure, you did. You could’ve slapped me on the spot and told me off right there for everyone to see.”
A slow grin crept across her face. “And miss an opportunity to piss Rachel Goodman off? Pffft. Not a chance.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jade
The entree selections at breakfast weren’t bad, considering it was free. I opted for vanilla yogurt with blueberries and granola, an English muffin—just because it looked good and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one, and a glass of orange juice. Brian got bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, toast, and a cup of coffee with two creamers and one packet of sugar.
“This should last me until we get to the cottage,” he commented as he sat down in the chair facing the door.
I noticed he was scanning the room while he unwrapped his silverware from his napkin, so I leaned forward and murmured with a grin, “Always on duty.”
“It’s ingrained in me.”
I was about to ask what he thought he could do, given his current injury and lack of weapon, when it hit me.
I looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping when I whisper-hissed, “Are you carrying right now?”
After trying his eggs, he added salt and pepper and nonchalantly replied, “Of course.”
“Really? How come I can’t tell? And how did I not even see it last night?”
He bit off a piece of bacon with a grin. “It’s not exactly something I advertise, Sunshine. And I wasn’t sure how you felt about guns, so I made sure it was out of sight last night.”
“That was thoughtful of you.”
I realized as annoying as he tried to pretend to be, he’d done some pretty thoughtful things during our time together. I wondered if he’d even realized he was doing half of them.
Kind of like he hadn’t at first realized it was me he was fondling last night.
It was weird that it was that second that he chose to ask, “What’s your ex-boyfriend’s name?”
I paused with my spoon halfway to my mouth and cocked my head. “Why?”
“I need to know in case he comes into town. How am I supposed to know who to throw in jail?”
“Dr. Garrett Dempsey.”
“Garrett,” he repeated, “Dempsey. Got it.”
I couldn’t help but notice his jaw tick before he resumed eating and decided to push a little.
“It’s so funny that you ask. I had a dream about him last night. Must be because we talked about him yesterday.”
He didn’t look at me when he wiped his mouth and asked, “Oh yeah? What kind of dream?”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool—knowing full-well he knew what kind of dream. Although it hadn’t really been a dream, and it hadn’t been about Garrett.
But Brian didn’t need to know that.
“Oh, you know. Just about our time together.”
