Beth Andrews - Do You Take This Cop?

How the hell had she twisted his simple gesture into something to be pissed about? He pinched the bridge of his nose. Even after being surrounded by females his entire life, he still found them a mystery.

“Ms. Garey wants you to come out when you’re done,” Britney said as she entered the room. “Her niece is visiting next week and she was wondering if you’ll take her out.”

“I’m busy.”

“I didn’t even tell you what days she’ll be here,” Britney said. “Oh, and Ms. Garey wanted me to remind you of how she let you retake some English final your senior year so you could graduate with the rest of your class instead of suffering the humiliation of summer school.”

He grabbed the new hoses, viciously tightening the connection for the cold water one. “Blackmail is illegal.”

“Hey, you’re the cop. You tell her.”

Nick tilted his head to the side. Why him? He was a decent guy. What had he done to deserve this? “Is this the same niece she set me up with a few years back? The vegan?” He connected the hot water hose. The wrench slipped and he whacked his knuckle. Pressing his lips together against the pain, he shook his hand. “Because I’ll tell you right now, I’m not eating one bite of her tofu casserole or whatever it was she cooked up for me the last time.”

“Take her to the Wave Runner. She can get the all-you-can-eat salad bar.”

“And spend the night listening to her lecture me about eating lobster? No thanks.” He stood and dropped the dripping hoses into the utility sink. He grimaced when he finally saw his sister. “What the hell are you not quite wearing?”

“Now, Nicky, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m a grown woman and I can dress however I want.”

The headache that had started when Faith ripped into him intensified. “True. But I’m pretty sure I can write you up for indecent exposure. Aren’t you supposed to wear that vest over something? Like a shirt?”

She adjusted the hem of her top. “For your information, Michael likes the way I dress.”

And the last thing he needed to hear was how his baby sister’s latest unemployed, stringy-haired, dumber-than-Nick’s-firearm boyfriend liked her to show lots of skin. “I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that. Toss me a towel, will you?”

Britney handed him one from the dryer, then leaned against the washing machine while he sopped up the water on the floor and put his tools away. “If you had a steady girlfriend, you wouldn’t have to go out with the mean old vegan.”

He locked his toolbox and stood. “No.”

“Why not? Faith is sooo nice and she’s smart and funny and—”

“And she’s off her rocker. She’s also mighty ticked off at me, so even if I was interested—which I’m not—I don’t think you’d be able to convince her we’re destined to be together.”

“What do you mean, she’s ticked? What did you do?” Britney asked suspiciously.

He folded the towel and laid it on top of the washing machine. “What makes you think I did anything?”

“Now, don’t get all sensitive.” Britney poured a cup of coffee, added creamer and handed it to him before getting a bottled water out of the fridge. “Come on. Spill.”

He quickly filled her in.

“That doesn’t sound like Faith,” she said thoughtfully. “Although she is very protective of Austin. Maybe she was just worried about him going that far on his own?”

“Maybe,” Nick conceded. But he had a feeling whatever had set Faith off was more than that. His cell phone rang. “Coletti,” he said after opening it.

“Nicky,” his sister Andrea said, “please tell me you’re not busy.”

He turned his back on the new hoses. “I’m not busy. What’s up?”

“Marie called. Isaac’s sick. Marie thinks it’s chicken pox.” Their sister Marie ran the day care center Andrea’s two kids, five-year-old Isaac and two-year-old Dana, attended. “He needs to be picked up, but I can’t get away from work until two-thirty and Tuesdays Steve is at his Brunswick office and—”

“And you need me to go get Isaac.”

“If you don’t have any other plans,” she said in a rush. “I’d really appreciate it.”

So much for meeting a few buddies for an afternoon golf game. “No problem.” He wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear and shoved the washing machine back in place. “Tell Marie I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Nicky.”

“Isaac’s sick,” he told Britney after he hung up. “Marie thinks it’s the start of chicken pox.”

“I told Andrea she’d regret not getting those kids vaccinated.”

“Her choice.” He picked up his toolbox.

“Wait.” Britney grabbed his free wrist. “You can’t go until you’ve made up with Faith.”

“Hey, even though I didn’t do anything wrong, I already apologized.” He’d figured, correctly, it would be the easiest way to get her to lay off.

“Great. Now you two can put this behind you—”

“Are your braids too tight?” The last thing he needed was some high-strung, antagonistic woman in his life.

“Fine.” Britney flipped one of those braids over her shoulder. “But you’re making a mistake by giving up. You and Faith would be great together. Don’t forget, I inherited Great-grandma’s sight.”

“The only thing you inherited was a tendency to overdramatize situations.”

He took it back. She must’ve also inherited their Nonna’s ability to skewer a man with one dark look. “I was going to make you chicken parmigiana for fixing the washing machine,” Brit said with an indignant sniff, “but just for that, all you’re getting is a thank-you card.” She then whirled around on the heel of one of her cowboy boots and sashayed out of the room.

Nick shut his eyes. God, please save me from the women in my life.

Amen.

He hoped Britney listened this time. She’d been after him to ask Faith out ever since she’d first hired her. What Brit wasn’t aware of was that he’d given in and had invited Faith out to dinner a few months ago. An invitation she’d quickly and politely declined.

He didn’t need to be told no twice.

TEN MINUTES AFTER FAITH got home from work that evening, the phone rang. She remained where she was, staring into the refrigerator, hoping she might find inspiration for dinner. “Austin, can you get that, please?”

The second ring ended abruptly. “It’s for you,” Austin called from the living room.

Shutting the refrigerator, she grabbed a washed apple out of the bowl on the table and headed into the other room. From his prone position on the sofa, Austin held the phone out, his nose buried in that blasted comic book.

For about the hundredth time that day, she felt guilty over not letting Austin get the comic in the first place. She was so very tired of feeling guilty all the time. But she doubted she’d get any reprieve, seeing as how her list of sins was so damn long.

Like forcing Austin to leave his prized comic book collection behind two towns ago. Which was what happened when you took off in the middle of the night as if the devil himself were after you.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly who they were running from. And he would never stop searching for them.

She bit into her apple, then took the phone, holding the mouthpiece against her stomach as she chewed and swallowed. She swatted the tops of Austin’s sneakers with the back of her hand. “Get those dirty shoes off my couch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not looking up from the comic as he toed his shoes off onto the floor.

Faith pursed her lips and gave him her best Mom stare until he lifted his head. “What?” he asked.