Lena Diaz - Swat Standoff

She flipped the dead bolt and pulled open the door. “Actually, it’s his wife. She sped through a school zone, so I radioed for a patrol unit and followed her to city hall. She didn’t appreciate me detaining her until the uniformed officer got there. And she especially didn’t like the two-hundred-fifty-dollar ticket.”

His brows rose as he stepped inside. “Did you know who she was when you saw her speeding?”

“Yep. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have bothered if she’d blown by me out on the highway. It’s not like we have enough traffic around here to worry about her causing an accident. But she could have run someone’s kid over. That’s an unforgivable sin in my book. So if the price of making her stop and think next time is a bumpy ride home every day, I’ll pay it.” She winced. “But I do need to get a four-wheel drive if this vendetta goes on much longer. My little SUV isn’t designed for that kind of punishment. It’s already starting to rattle, and it’s only a few years old.”

He smiled. “I didn’t know you had a soft spot for kids. Why haven’t I heard this story before?”

She cocked her head. “Why haven’t you ever visited my house before? And why haven’t you invited me to yours? We’re partners. We should kick back together after work sometimes, or on weekends.”

His smile faded. “The answer to those questions are irrelevant, since I’m not a cop anymore.”

She shook her head. “Once a cop, always a cop. And as far as I’m concerned, this current situation with Dillon is temporary.”

“That’s actually why I’m here. Partly, anyway.” He waved toward the two leather couches and recliner a few feet away. “Mind if we talk for a few minutes? Or is the open door an unsubtle social signal that I should leave?”

She blinked, surprised to realize that she was still holding on to the doorknob. “Sorry. Go on, have a seat.” She shut the door behind him and followed him into the part of the house that functioned as a family room.

He perched on the edge of one of the two couches, resting his forearms on his thighs with his hands clasped together. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so unsure of himself. His confidence in everything that he did was one of the things that had always bugged Dillon, because he took it as arrogance. He expected the new guy to show more humility and work harder to fit in. Until Blake’s little speech in the parking lot earlier, she’d thought pretty much the same thing. Now she wasn’t sure what she thought.

“Nice place,” he said as she sat beside him on the couch. “It looks a lot bigger inside than it does from the outside.”

“It’s the vaulted ceiling and the open concept. My dad helped me with the remodel. Took a couple of years. That was a long time ago, though. It’s about ready for another update—new lights, new plumbing fixtures. The floors could use refinishing. But I don’t have the free time I used to, before I added part-time SWAT officer to my full-time detective duties.”

“You and your dad did all the work?”

“Most of it. We rooked my three sisters’ husbands into helping with the heavy lifting. But for the most part, it was me and Dad. With Mom supervising, of course. She’s a worse back seat renovator than any back seat driver.” She waved toward the kitchen, which was separated from the rest of the room by a butcher block island. “You want a beer or something?”

His brows arched again. “I think we both know I had more than my quota of alcohol earlier today. But thanks.”

“Right.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans, hating the awkwardness that had settled between them. “I see you have your—”

“I wanted to ask you—”

They both stopped and smiled.

He waved at her. “You first.”

She cleared her throat. “I was just going to ask how you got here. Since I, um, have your keys.”

“My neighbor. I called him and he was just a few miles away, running an errand. We both have spare sets of each other’s keys in case we lock ourselves out of our homes or cars. He and his son picked me up at the bar. His son drove my truck home while I slept off the liquor. In case you were wondering how I got my truck back.”

“I tried to call—”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the glass before turning it around. “I noticed.”

The home screen showed fifteen missed calls.

Her face flamed hot. “Are all of those from me?”

“Every one.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize I’d been that big a pest.”

“You texted even more than you called.” He smiled and put the phone away. “I came over here for a couple of reasons. The first was to apologize.”

She frowned. “What would you apologize for? I’m the one who left you stranded, in the rain, at a horrible, smelly bar. In my defense, I did eventually turn around and go back. But you were gone.”

“Yeah, this is the part where I have to admit that I hid in the men’s room when you came back into the bar looking for me. Not one of my prouder moments. But I was still angry and didn’t want to talk to you.”

“I knew that snake-tattooed bartender was lying. Well, at least you’re okay. And you didn’t end up with your truck in a ditch somewhere.”

His jaw tightened. “Believe it or not, I’m not the bad guy everyone seems to think I am. And unlike the mayor’s wife, I care about the other people out on the road. I would never drink and drive, in spite of how I acted earlier. The fact that you thought I would only contributed to my foul mood, so I didn’t bother to tell you that all I was going to do was lie down in my truck and sleep it off.”

“Blake, I didn’t mean that the way it—”

He held up his hand again. “Please, let me get all this out before you think I’m blaming you for my own actions. I’m not. I was a jerk to you today. You were worried about me.” He patted his pocket where he’d put his cell phone. “Obviously. And I didn’t have the decency to answer even one of your calls or texts to let you know that I was okay. I’m really sorry, Donna. And even though I’d argue it wasn’t necessary to take my keys, and it wasn’t fun being left standing in the rain, it was a wake-up call. The whole day was a wake-up call, in a lot of ways. I hope you can accept my deepest, heartfelt apology. Can you forgive me?”

He startled her by taking one of her hands between his, while he watched her and waited for her reply. She swallowed hard, trying to remember what he’d even said. It was hard to focus when his large, warm hands held hers and he was staring at her with such intensity.

The man had definitely missed his calling. Instead of law enforcement, he should have been a sexy leading man in Hollywood, making all the women swoon and throw themselves at his feet. All it would take was one look from those intense, dark blue eyes to make the rest of the world fade away. She didn’t think he’d ever looked at her this way before. It was doing funny things to her belly, and her pulse was racing so fast, it was a wonder he didn’t say something about it.

He’d showered recently. His short, nearly black hair was still damp. And he was wearing fresh clothes—jeans, boots and a blue pullover shirt that made his eyes look an even darker blue than usual.

Not that any of that mattered.

She shouldn’t care how gorgeous he looked, or how incredibly wonderful his warm skin felt against hers. But he’d never focused the full force of his attention on her before, not like this, as if the only thing that mattered in the world was her.

“Donna? Help me out here. I have no idea what that sharp mind of yours is thinking right now. Are you about to forgive me, or should I run for my truck before you pull out your gun?” His mouth quirked up in a half grin that had her toes curling against the floor.