Page 29 of Worth the Fall

GRANT

“Well, that was crap.”

I glance over to Nate as I crack the top of a Coke open and nod. “Sure was.”

“And yet, we have shit to show for it. No arrests. No nothing.”

“Makes for a long-ass day.” I take a sip as I lean back and put my feet on the desk I’m currently occupying in the squad room. “If you want twenty-four hour lights and sirens, Nate, then you should move to San Francisco. I’m sure the guys there would kill for the slower beat we have.”

“True. But I bet they’re adrenaline junkies. They wouldn’t be able to live without it.” I nod at his statement. “Speaking of which, the fun stuff always seems to happen when I’m out sick.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lyle was just telling me in the locker room that you had a ninety five mile an hour-er the other day, but I don’t see it on the reports anywhere.” He leans his hip on the desk beside me and crosses his arms over his chest.

“It was an emergency situation. Lady speeding to get somewhere,” I explain as I nod a hello to a few more guys coming in to roll call to grab their assignments. “I was trying to be nice and just gave her a warning.”

“So, in other words, she was a hottie and you got her digits.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and take another sip while thinking of Emerson. Her damn defiance and that haunted look she gets in her eyes every so often that makes me want to ask more questions than I know she’s willing to answer. And then there were those little white shorts she was wearing the other day that made me think thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking but can’t help.

“Earth to Grant.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking about that first call today⁠—”

“The asshole husband and sweet little girl? Yeah, they got to me, too.”

We both fall in silence for a second, and I hate that when I picture little Keely, an image of Emerson leaving school that day superimposes itself over it.

It’s just because she’s on my mind more than she should be. So much so that I’m projecting her situation onto another little girl when I know better.

“How about we liven up our day a bit and get some action?” he suggests.

“I get enough action. Thanks, though.” I chuckle just to irritate him.

“Fucking, Malone. Playboy cop. One of these days a woman’s going to come along and put handcuffs around that cold heart of yours, and then you’ll be whipped like the rest of us fuckers.”

“I’ll be cuffed, huh?” I run a hand over my jaw and shake my head. “Sorry, I just don’t see it . . . but if it makes you feel better about the white picket fence you’ll be locked behind, then by all means.”

“Some days I hate you, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you also love me,” I tease as Liv, the dispatcher, walks down the hall and gives me a coy smile that makes parts of me regret walking away from her.

“Shit. I told you she still wants you,” he murmurs as we both watch her hips sway.

“Me and my cold heart.” I laugh.

“You sure you don’t want to go out after shift is over?”

“Nah, I told the chief I’d stay and do some desk work.” Like that’s a fun way to spend the rest of my afternoon. “I’m reviewing the cold case files for him. Trying to prove how great of a detective I’d be. You know, gotta put a good foot forward if I want that promotion.”

“You’re kissing major ass with the extra hours you’re putting in,” he taunts.

“And I’m loving the OT pay. I can see a new patio and built-in barbecue in the near future.”

“The offer stands. A bunch of us are meeting at seven o’clock at McGregor’s if you get done in time.”

“Thanks, but I have other shit to do.”