Page 332 of Off Limits: The Firsts

Sirens screaming past the bar cut me off, and without thinking, I turn to watch the two squad cars as they navigate through the crowded intersection.

“Uh-huh.”

“What?” I ask, realizing I’ve been caught.

“You do have a thing for uniforms, don’t you? That, or you wish it was Grant.”

“Hottie at two o’clock is all yours,” I say as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

“I know your game, Reeves. Hottie at two o’clock has no interest in me, but you’re saying he does to throw me off so I don’t go over there and play matchmaker. If I did, then you might have to tell him no. And telling him no would inform me, your best friend whom you’re hiding things from, that you might like Grant a little more than you’re letting on.”

This time, the glare I level her with is real. “No one said I didn’t like Grant.” It’s her turn to return the look. “He has skills in the bedroom department, and I sure as hell am not complaining about that . . . but I told you that we have rules and we’re purely enjoying the physical aspect.”

“The physical aspect,” she mimics with a roll of her eyes.

“There are other terms I could use that would be more accurate, but I’m trying to be a lady.” I smile a big, cheesy grin to let her know I’m going out of my way to annoy her.

“A lady.” She snorts. “Well, if there is no commitment, then why aren’t you out on the dance floor living it up?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Because you’d rather be with Officer Sexy.”

“No.” Yes. What the hell is wrong with me? “I’ll dance in a bit.”

“Ha.” She scoffs. “You’re such a liar.”

She’s right.

Grant Malone seems to be the only one I’ll allow to upend my world.

First to save me.

And now to show me what it’s like to feel.

“What the hell, dude?”

Nate is barely containing the snicker, his face turning beet red as I stare at the blow-up doll positioned precariously at my desk. Someone—probably one of my brothers—put the thing in a skimpy female cop Halloween costume and used a Sharpie to highlight some of its better features.

“Grady and Grayson, I presume?”

“How could you tell?” He laughs as I finally see their self-portraits horribly tattooed above each one of her boobs.

All I can do is shake my head and take a seat at Ambrose’s desk directly across from it . . . her? While I more than admire my brothers’ creativity and attempt to make me relax after the long-ass exam, I’m already thinking of ways to get them back.

“Don’t worry,” Nate says. “All the guys already tapped ‘dat for ya.” He picks her up, and when he turns her around, there are signatures from all of the guys in the squad on her ass.

“Cute. Very cute. Thanks, guys,” I say as everyone around us starts busting up laughing.

Fucking assholes.

“So . . . how do you feel?” Nate asks as if he isn’t currently placing a blow-up doll back in my chair so that her feet are propped on the desk. No matter how hard he tries, her legs keep spreading open. Finally, he gives up and just pushes her out of the chair.

“I see how you treat suspects.” I almost don’t get the words out around my laughter.

“That’s only if they’re behaving.” We both look down to where she’s face down, spread eagle on the floor. “So tell me how it went.”

“Good. It was pretty straightforward. None of the questions gave me trouble.”