Page 30 of Shield
And hope to hell, one day, it wouldn’t just be my imagination.
Soon.
ChapterTwelve
Jackson
“So,then she made this dessert that was low calorie and had pineapple in it,” Mack said as we left the courthouse for our lunch break. We’d been giving our account of what had happened about seven months ago during a sting operation. We’d run to shut down some massage parlors that were selling more than hot rocks and foot rubs. Body parts had been getting rubbed, but they weren’t toes.
I nodded as we walked, the day a cloudy one, big rains moving in with high winds. The rain was sorely needed. No one wanted wildfires. Of course, with the storms came the possibility of lightning, which could spark the one thing we all wished to avoid. Sort of like me texting Oliver all the time.
We were not talking about the case either. We were flirting. Bigly. Even though I knew it was wrong, I could not stop myself from replying with my own idiotic brand of come hither that worked on no man other than Oliver. He seemed to dig my snark, go figure. This little message was about a local politician who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar over in the San Fran area. Lots of romance with a fellow office worker, funds being spent on jewelry to woo said fellow office worker. Big, expensive cookies.
“What do you think?”
I glanced up from telling Oliver that I hoped he didn’t expect me to spend ten grand on a dinner date because I’d have to sell my car and then, how would I get to the luxury restaurant to woo him. Woo him. I had actually typed those words. On my phone. To Oliver. Honestly, I was beyond help.
The Santa Ana winds threw my tie into my face. I batted it down, then stared at my partner. Mack huffed before shoving past me to get in line at a small taco shack.
“Sorry, I was discussing the merits of quality linens with my sister.”
Mack shot me a glare over his shoulder as we waited to get into the tiny eatery. “Talking to your sister makes you smile like your head is empty? And it is, you know. Empty.”
“It’s not totally empty. There’s enough gray matter to tell you that you should stay far away from anything on the menu that has beans in it. The last time you overdid it on the refried beans and had to go back to court to continue your testimony, the judge had to empty the courtroom to bring in fumigators.”
“Fuck you. They only cleared the courtroom for a few minutes while the bailiff used some Febreze. And don’t change the subject. I know you’re not talking to Courtney, Bryce, or Leo. You’re talking to Cowan, and that is going to bite you on the ass.” The mere thought of Oliver nipping my bare ass made my dick twitch. “There. See, that expression right there is what I’m talking about! Fuck me, Jackson, you are walking a really fine line. You know that having a sexual relationship with that man is going to potentially screw the pooch on that investigation. All the defense would have to do is get wind of you being involved with a witness during an active investigation, and you’d be on the stand faster than you can spit.”
“I’m not involved with Oliver. We’re just…” I floundered.
Mack leapt on that mumble with both feet. “Yeah, exactly. Do you not recall what we were warned about when we were in training?” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t do that. They said that the three things that will bring down a male officer the fastest is booze, bucks, and broads. Those are the three B’s to avoid, Jackson.”
“For me, it would be booze, bucks, and beef bayonet.” Mack did not look amused. “Okay, look, I know you’re just trying to do good by me. I know that, and I appreciate it. There is nothing sexual between me and Oliver.” He snorted in derision. “I mean it. Look, to prove that I’m not smitten, I am going to go to his house tonight and explain that, while I enjoy his texts, I have to maintain my professionalism.”
“Yeah?” He took a step closer to the door of the taco shack. The sidewalk was bustling with people trying to eat and get back to work.
I made anXover my heart. “I promise. I’m going to fill him in on the latest news of the case, which is fucking little, and then tell him that, until the case is solved or closed, we’re to only have contact when it has to do with the investigation.”
“You could tell him now,” he suggested, then glanced at the phone in my hand. Yeah, I could. I should. I knew this flirty/kissy thing we had bubbling was not cool. Mack was right. If the case did ever get to court and the defense attorney found out there was something sexual between one of the detectives and a key witness, it could be ugly.Realugly. Any testimony that I or Oliver had given would be tainted. I’d probably be brought up on charges of conduct unbecoming. Possibly fired. So, ending it now, before it had a chance of really getting out of control, was the right thing to do. And I would. Tonight.
“I’m not the kind of man to do something like this over a text.”
Mack studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay, tell him in person. Tomorrow, I want to hear that you’re done staring at your phone like a teenager who’s been shown his first pair of titties.” His cell vibrated, and he checked it. “Financial reports are in from the clinic and staff,” he advised.
“Great, hours of sitting and looking at numbers,” I growled.
“Not you. It’ll be me, now you’re fucking one of the witnesses. So, I’ll take over any witness contacts with Oliver Cowan starting on the morrow.”
I blinked. “‘On the morrow’? What the fuck? Am I partnered with Billy Shakespeare?” I reached into my front pocket for my smokes, only to realize I didn’t have any. Oh hey, that was progress. I’d not thought about a cigarette for almost ten minutes. Fuck you, nicotine addiction. God, I was more than hungry now. This line was stupid long. If I flashed my badge, would it get us served faster? Probably not…
“Elena and I have been watchingBridgerton,” Mack said, his pale cheeks turning red.
That busted me up. Mack chuckled. I didn’t mention that I had been known to watch that show on occasion. Occasion meaning as soon as the episodes dropped. I wasn’t one to miss hot men in tight breeches when the opportunity presented itself. Speaking of hot men, I snuck in one final text to Oliver saying I had to go and would drop by this evening if that suited. It did suit, he replied, then signed off with several cookie emojis. I smiled at the chocolate chips until someone—Mack—elbowed me in the ribs. Hard. Right. No more of that stuff. It was time to return to being the old Jackson Winwood, even if I wasn’t sure I truly wanted to go back.
* * *
I could hearthe frivolity inside Oliver’s house from on the front step. I listened for a minute or two, enjoying the sound of giggling girls, stampeding feet, and the burly growl of a man pretending to be a troll… maybe?
The squeals reminded me of my youth when my older sister and I played outside. Our folks didn’t like screaming in the house. Dad was especially touchy about loud kids, and so our rowdiness always took place in the backyard. Generally, I would be told to be something gross and nasty, say a troll, and Courtney would be the fair princess who would slay me. None of that waiting for a prince to rescue her for my big sis. Nope. She took care of her own business, and if killing the tiny troll who had stolen her stuffed piggy was what needed to be done, then so be it.
