Page 20 of Worth the Fall

I look in my rearview mirror as another police car pulls up behind his, and my palms grow sweaty. Am I that dangerous that they need two units to handle this call?

“Anyway, like I was saying, I left in such a hurry that I didn’t grab my wallet. I don’t have my license.”

He angles his head, and even though I can’t see his eyes behind the lenses, I can feel them dressing me down. “Then your registration?”

“This isn’t exactly my car.” I hear the door of the second unit shut behind us.

And the award for Flake of the Year, ladies and gentlemen, goes to Emerson Reeves.

“Whose car is it then?”

“Blue Skies—the company I work for.”

“Do you need any help, Off—Emerson?”

That voice. His voice has my whole body wanting to seize up and melt at the same time.

“You know this woman?” Officer Asshole says as I look to where Grant stands in his dark blue uniform with the setting sun at his back.

“I do.”

“You want to handle this call?”

“Sure,” Grant says, and after how things went between us the last time I saw him, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or worried.

“Thanks. You’ll be saving me from John’s wrath, coming home late from shift again.”

“Husbands,” Grant plays along and shrugs.

“Exactly.” He lifts his chin toward the back of the car, and the two men step back there for a few minutes. They speak in hushed tones, before Grant steps toward me and the other officer climbs into his car.

“Christ, Emerson. Ninety?” There’s a disapproving tone to his voice, but under it is something akin to amusement. “Seriously? You’re lucky Lyle didn’t haul you off to jail for reckless driving.”

“We weren’t quite done, but I’m sure that might have been an option.”

“It is pretty serious. And hauling you off is a valid option for the safety of not only you but also everyone else on the road.”

“But there is no one else on the road. No harm. No foul. Can I go?”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.”

He takes off his sunglasses and hooks them in his shirt. I stare at them hanging from his neck because it’s so much easier than looking him in the eyes. But he stands there, hands braced on the frame of my window and waits for me to meet his gaze.

While I had been certain sweet talking would have worked with Officer Lyle, at least until Grant mentioned the other officer’s husband, I have absolutely no idea what to say to ease the situation.

“You always had a flair for the dramatic.” The words are out before I realize it, and I hate myself for being the first to bring up the past when I don’t want him to do the same.

“Dramatic is one thing, Em. Doing my job is another.”

“Oh, I see what you’re doing here. You’re mad at me for the other night when you have no right to be and⁠—”

“This has nothing to do with the other night and everything to do with the law and me enforcing it.”

He always was a stickler for the rules. The longer this conversation goes on, the more irritated I become, and a big part of me wants it to continue. If I’m pissed at him, then I’ll want him to go away instead of wondering what it would be like to see him again like I have been.

“Are you seriously going to arrest me?”

“Give me a good reason why you’re in such a hurry you need to go ninety miles an hour.”