Page 11 of Misadventures in Blue
“You’ll be working whatever they tell you to work,” Russo says. “You’re temporarily assigned to Day’s sergeant and Day’s squad. I imagine you’ll be working some days, some overnights, that kind of thing. Will that work?”
I have no life outside of this job except for the gym and playing with my niece and nephew. And I’m to the point where I’d happily donate an organ if it meant I could see Day again.
I give Russo an affirmative nod.
“All right. Then get your rookie butt down to investigations and report to Day.”
In the history of the HGPD, no one has hauled ass to the investigations station as quickly as I do now, and I test more than a few speed limits as I try to get there before Day clocks out. I park the car and practically jog into the building.
I search out the investigations sergeant for a quick check-in and to verify whom I need to report to for the evening portion of the shift, and then I’m free to find her.
I can admit it now, as I’m stalking through the maze of cubicles to find hers. I can admit how badly I want to fuck her again. How much I hated walking away last night, how my stomach twisted all night long at the thought that she might think badly of me, that she was displeased or unimpressed with what happened.
I want very much for her to be pleased. To be impressed.
I knew all of this earlier, of course, but it’s only now as I’m eating up the space between us that I acknowledge the implication.
I want her to be mine.
At least one more time.
Cat’s cubicle is tucked away in a far corner, and it’s larger than most. A subtle indication of her position in the unit. A little digging this morning while Romero and I were at the station gym netted me the information that Cat is the lead persons detective and usually takes point on the city’s homicides, when we have them—which is rarely—working assaults, batteries, and stalking the rest of the time.
She has the highest case clearance rate of any other detective in her unit and has for years. She did a stint with the KBI—HGPD loaned her out for that one—and frequently gets called in by other agencies to help with difficult cases. The “frigid bitch” Quinn was talking about is possibly the best cop in the department—and manages to be the best without fanfare or arrogance.
And she surrendered all that intelligence and discipline into my hands last night. The significance of that is potent. Intoxicating.
Russo made it sound as if Captain Kim had decided to put me on the burglary case, but I can’t help but hope that Day asked for me. That she liked my performance—both at the scene and in her kitchen—enough to trust me with her presence again. I want her to trust me. I want it as directly and forcefully as I’ve wanted anything else that matters.
And now I’m thinking about wanting her in the noisy, fluorescent bullpen.
Get it under control, Sutton.
I’m always professional and respectfully subordinate—a gift from the army days—but even walking up to her cubicle has my cock thick and my blood hot. My heart is in my throat like I’m a teenage boy about to ask a girl to his first dance, and I’m itching just to see her, just to be close to her.
Except when I get to her, she’s not alone.
A man, probably just on the young side of forty, is standing in the cubicle opening with an elbow propped on the chest-high wall and one dress-shoed foot crossed behind the other. He’s in a tailored blue suit, the kind that costs as much as I make in a month, and it showcases an impressively fit body. There’s no wedding ring on his hand, and he’s leaning in to talk to Cat in a familiar manner that makes me want to smash something.
When I get to the cubicle entry myself, I see Cat sitting in her chair, looking radiant in that tasteful way of hers and laughing at something he’s said
.
I hate him immediately.
Her eyes slide over to me and widen, and for a moment, I see desire flash in those sparkling depths—but as soon as I see it, it’s gone, and she’s the aloof queen once more.
“Sutton,” she says calmly. “What brings you to this station?”
Ah, so she didn’t know I was coming. Which means she didn’t ask for me.
Shit.
Pushing down my disappointment, I reply, “Russo’s lending me out to you. It’s gone through Kim and everything, so…I’m at your disposal. Starting now.”
I feel a rush of male satisfaction as my subtext sends pink blooming along her cheekbones.
“How nice,” she murmurs, her sea-colored eyes dropping down to her shoes. She takes a breath, and when she looks back up at me, she seems to have control of herself again. “Sutton, have you met our new assistant district attorney, Kenneth Goddard? He used to be one of the best defense lawyers in town before he moved away a few years ago, but now he’s back and fighting for the side of good.” She gives him a quick, teasing grin with her last statement, and I hate him even more.
