Page 41 of Break Away
She nodded, catching her breath when hesnagged her hand and turned it over in his. He rubbed a thumb overher palm, much as he had the previous evening when they’d beensitting on a bench looking out over the town. “Would you go onanother non-date with me?”
Her heart gave a strong thud. “Do you thinkit’s a good idea?”
“Why, you afraid you’ll start to likeme?”
“No.”That ship sailed years ago.“What do you have in mind?”
“The Guns have softball practice this eveningat five thirty. It’ll probably go for an hour and a half, thenwe’re all going out for pizza. You could join us.”
“So this is more of a group thing.”
“Right. No way is it a date. I wouldn’t wantto challenge the ‘no dating cops’ rule. Pizza, beer, and a group offriends hanging out.”
She didn’t give herself time to overthink it.“Sounds like fun. Why don’t you text me when you’re done withpractice and I’ll meet you at the pizza place?”
“Sure.”
He dipped his head, then seemed to catchhimself. “Damn. If this was going to be a real date, I’d kiss yougood-bye. Can’t let that happen.” He straightened and started forthe back door to the station. “See you this evening, Zoey.”
Chapter Twelve
Zoey stood in line at the post office. Threepeople were ahead of her, two looked like they had multiplepackages to send. She wanted to get home, take a shower, then tryto put a little effort into her appearance for her non-date withLevi. But she had a card to send her brother for his birthday, andshe wanted to pick up the cool solar eclipse stamps that changedcolor with heat. He’d like that.
Levi was sneaky. He’d slipped the idea of akiss into her head, and it had lodged there ever since.
Kissing Levi again would be disastrous. Sheknew exactly how hot a kiss between them could get, and from thereit would be a slippery slope into more. She figured she was alreadyon that slope by accepting his non-date invitations, but had shesaid no? Of course not.
She’d tried to stick to her date-no-copsrule. Cops were controlling, some too easily abused theirauthority, and, as she’d seen more than once, were too oftenwilling to sacrifice the community they were supposed to serve toprotect fellow officers.
Except Levi didn’t fit the mold. He seemedhonest and caring, and restrained in his interactions with others.Despite that, she’d seen him drop the laid-back persona and shiftto cop mode in the blink of an eye. Maybe he had to do that for thejob, but she had trouble trusting him not to revert to type. Younever could tell.
He’d evaded answering her about what led tohim leaving the Oakland PD, which had her wondering what he washiding. She hadn’t searched him on the Internet, and she wasn’tsure why. Maybe she wanted him to tell her himself. He’d avoidedthe subject when she’d brought it up, and maybe he didn’t want tofight with her about something neither of them would change theirminds about.
She shuffled forward and bit back a sigh ofimpatience when the sole postal clerk chatted loudly with the nextin line, a woman with a daughter due to go into labor at anymoment, and could Patsy (the clerk) guess what the daughter’s ratbastard husband had done? Trying hard not to listen, Zoey toldherself that the benefits of living in a small town far outweighedthe drawbacks.
“This is taking forever, isn’t it?”
Zoey turned to the voice behind her. Thewoman, probably in her mid-thirties but making a valiant effort toappear at least a decade younger, rolled her eyes.
There wasn’t much else to say but tocommiserate. “Seems like.”
The woman stuck out a hand and gave her abroad smile. “Are you new in town?”
Her ripped skinny jeans were so tight on herthin frame that Zoey worried about the woman’s circulation, whileher hair, held back with a big clip, looked overly bleached andbrittle.
After having her hand pumpedenthusiastically, Zoey gave her a brief smile. “More or less.”
“I’ve lived here my entire life. I know justabout everybody.” Her gaze focused on the nametag on Zoey’suniform. “And your name is Zoey Hardesty.”
“Yep.” Something was off about the woman. Onthe surface she appeared friendly, but there was a calculatinggleam in her pale gray eyes in stark contrast to the openexpression. Only one more person was ahead of Zoey in the line andshe felt like offering her a twenty to let her take cuts.
“You’re a forest ranger. Says US ForestService, Department of Agriculture, right there on your shoulderpatch.”
Zoey returned her attention to the woman withan effort. “Um, no. A wildlife biologist.”
“Pretty much the same thing, right? You wearthe same uniform.”
Some things weren’t worth the bother ofexplaining.
