Page 37 of Under the Lights
She stopped dabbing at her face with the towel to look at him. “That’s not necessary.”
“You’re shaking and you’ve spent a good chunk of the last half hour under water. I’ll end up so worried about you, I’ll just follow you anyway.” She didn’t look convinced. “Just to the door, and I’ll carry the vest. It’s the least I can do.”
“Just to the door,” she said finally, holding the vest out to him.
They walked away from the dunk tank, the angle keeping them mostly out of sight of the crowd. The streets were mostly empty since the dunking booth was probably the most exciting thing to happen in town for a long time, and Chase noticed it was cooling off pretty quickly. Kelly had to be freezing.
“So why was Simon Ward willing to cough up a pretty substantial amount of money to see you get dunked?” he asked.
“I had his Escalade towed during an emergency parking ban during my first blizzard with the Stewart Mills PD.” She laughed, and then told him the story. Even the chief had been surprised she had the nerve to do it, but she wasn’t going to pick and choose which laws she upheld based on how nice a vehicle the offender drove.
All too soon, they were at the door. She lived over an insurance office, so there was a door at the street level to unlock. After the third time her frozen fingers fumbled the keys, he took them from her and unlocked it. He knew there was probably another door at the top of the stairs, but he didn’t push. If she wanted his help, she’d let him know.
“Thanks for walking me home,” she said, reaching for the vest.
He let her take it. “You okay to get up the stairs?”
“Yeah.” She looked up at him. “You know how to make hot cocoa?”
“Who doesn’t? You put a mug of water in the microwave and then dump the envelope in it.”
Her laugh was shaky because of the shivering. “I have the gourmet kind with mini marshmallows. You want some?”
“That sounds great.”
“Good. You can make it while I take a hot shower.”
“At your service, ma’am.” He took the vest back and, after making sure the first door locked behind them, followed her up the stairs. He unlocked that one for her, too, and followed her inside.
Her apartment was nice, with cream paint and hardwood floors. The furniture was beige leather and looked comfortable, with a lot of darker colors added with pillows and lampshades and stuff. It wasn’t a placeholder apartment like he’d seen from some of his friends in the past. This was her home and it suited her. It was definitely neater than anything he’d ever achieved, which he’d expected, but it still managed to be cozy and welcoming.
“Nice place.”
“Thanks. Mugs are in the cabinet over the coffeemaker, and the box of hot cocoa is on the shelf above them. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Of course she’d have all of her hot beverage supplies grouped together. He wanted to check to see if her boxed foods were grouped by primary ingredient or frequent usage and whether the magazines on the table were spread out in alphabetical order, but he didn’t. Even when he heard the shower kick on, he focused on the task at hand and resisted the urge to poke around her place.
He listened for the water to shut off and managed to time it so he was just setting the mugs on the table when the bathroom door opened. If he’d made them too soon, all her mini marshmallows would have melted before she was done with her shower. He looked up and couldn’t hold back the chuckle.
“That’s not going to work, Kelly.”
—
Kelly sighed and looked down at herself. “You can’t be serious.”
She’d gone to great pains to make herself as unattractive as possible after her shower. The sweatpants were faded and baggy from her police academy days, and the matching sweatshirt she’d worn to paint her apartment when she moved in. Her bulky, white athletic socks were bunched around her ankles, and she’d pulled her wet hair into a messy knot at the back of her head. She wouldn’t even get a mug shot taken in the outfit.
He stared at her for what seemed like forever and then shook his head. “I’m trying to imagine what you could do to be less attractive to me and I’m coming up with nothing.”
“I have a T-shirt that’s worse than this sweatshirt, but it’s so thin now, I’m not sure it’s decent anymore.” She sat and took a sip of her hot cocoa before the mini marshmallows could melt, savoring the warmth that spread through her. “That would probably defeat the purpose.”
“Wouldn’t matter,” he said. “It’s you that’s attractive, not the clothes. Which is good, when you think about it, since ideally the clothes come off at some point.”
She laughed. “That’s very true.”
They drank their hot chocolate, making small talk about the street fair. She confessed she didn’t even like pistachio bars, which made him feign outrage, and he confessed he felt bad about being the first to dunk her after she’d let his small legal infractions go. Then she mentioned the upcoming spaghetti dinner.
“Why Wednesday night?” he asked.
