I wash, shave, and pull on my uniform. Smiling into the mirror, I study my face, noting the damage age has caused. At thirty-five, I have a few grays and light lines setting in.
Then it suddenly occurs to me how silly I’m acting. It’s not like Lexi Dash is ever going to want anything more from me than on-the-job training.
While that is probably true, she was making me breakfast wearing only my tee-shirt and panties, which is an image that will forever be burned into my brain.
It was like a dream come to life, walking into my kitchen to a perfect set of legs toiling over my stove, though me having a gun and startling her certainly set a bad tone.
If I could only redo that moment, I’d get to enjoy it. Perhaps I could have even tricked my brain into believing that she was mine. If only for a second.
Lexi Dash is known for being hot, but at my stove, she was so much more than her comely looks. She was pretty and sweet. A light in my dark world. Precious. A reminder of how I’ve failed in life. Of what I can never have.
Which is a wife, her stomach round and full, making me breakfast even though she knows damn well that it’s me who should be cooking for her.
It’s a nice vision, and Lexi would fill it so nicely. There’s no way I’m washing that tee-shirt ever again. No freaking way.
I reenter the living room to find her staring at a picture of Clint.
“He always was a good-looking asshole.”
“I couldn’t figure out if it was you or him. You look so much alike.”
“That was his senior picture, taken before he hightailed it out of here for better things.”
Her mouth slants. “I wouldn’t exactly call what he has better.”
I scrunch my brow, annoyed that she’s being condescending.
“Don’t give me that look.”
“You think I don’t know that I’m a joke to people like you?”
Her face contorts in offense. “A joke? Why would you assume that?”
“I’ve seen lifestyles of the rich and famous.”
“And I’ve seen Hallmark holiday movies.” She folds her arms over her chest. “So am I to assume that’s what Pond Spring is like?”
I grunt in frustration, but there’s no point in arguing.
“Let’s go.”
Walking through the doors to the station, I immediately notice that Craig is in the holding.
“Drunk again?” I ask Josh, who was on night patrol.
“Yeah, but that’s not the worst of it. He passed out on the road. Almost got himself killed.”
“Jesus frickin’ Christ.”
Josh’s eyes scan over to Lexi. I can tell he wants an introduction.
I try not to let my annoyance show.
Finally, Josh turns to Lexi and squares his shoulders, “I heard you had a rough day yesterday.”
Why do I have this sudden urge to punch him?
“Yes, thanks to the Bastwick brothers.” Lexi glances askance at me.