“You want to explain why you’re in such a good mood?” Nate asks.
I glance his way and then look back to my computer with Emerson front and center on my mind. “No reason. I’m always in a good mood.”
“Bullshit.” He snorts. “You got some action, didn’t you?”
“Are you telling me I’m only in a good mood when I get laid?” I can see other guys tune in to our conversation.
“No, but it does help.”
“True . . .” I muse as I request another cold case file from the archives to help Chief Ramos keep his promise to the public that the Sunnyville Police Department never backs down on crime, old or new. It doesn’t hurt that it looks good for the promotion plus that patio cover I’ve been itching to build.
“So?” he asks in a verbal nudge.
“So, nothing.” Much to his annoyance, I blow him off. None of the guys in the place need to know about my personal life more than they already do.
But that doesn’t stop me from mentally reliving every single moment spent with Emerson. Every kiss. Each lick. All the moans. The groans. The orgasms. And every damn thing in between.
I shift in my chair, knowing I need to stop thinking about her or I’m going to be sporting wood.
But as I ignore the bullshit puppy-dog eyes from Nate and focus on calling up more cold case files from the archives, all I think about is Emerson. How sex with her was a mixture of familiarity and new and unforgettable all at the same time. Her rules she needs so she feels like she’s in control but that I know I’ll peel away one by one until it’s just her and me and nothing between us.
And to add the cherry to the sundae that is most definitely her, she put my brothers in their damn place.
The woman is a force to be reckoned with and hell if I’m not sitting in the middle of her windstorm and waiting to be hit with everything she has.
“Malone.”
“Yep.” I look up to where Dyson is standing at the front of the squad room.
“Chief Ramos needs to see you.”
I throw a glance to Nate, curious as to why he’s asking for only me and not the two of us. He shrugs as I stand, make my way down the hall, and rap on the glass door. “What do you need, Chief?”
Chief Ramos lifts his eyes from the open file on his desk and motions for me to come in. “Shut the door, Malone.” Uh-oh. “Take a seat.”
“Sure.” I sit in the chair across from him and wait for those dark eyes of his to study me. Nothing says a dress down is coming like the Ramos stare.
“How is the studying going for your exam?
“Good,” I say with caution. “Most of the stuff is second nature, but I’m reviewing it anyway.”
“Do you have a test date yet?” he asks, glancing at his wall calendar before settling the intensity in his eyes back on me.
“End of the month,” I reply. Twenty-two days. It should be more than enough time for me to spit shine my knowledge and ace the test.
“I’m sure your dad told you the test is the easy part, right?”
What is he getting at?
“So I’ve heard.”
“Good. Good.” He nods and leans back in his chair as he looks through the glass walls of his office and into the squad room. Even with his focus off me, he’s still intimidating as hell when he wants to be. His sigh tells me there is more.
“What’s the problem?” I finally ask.
“Your dad is a good friend of mine. You’re important to this department. I just want to make sure you’re prepared.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out, still lost to the purpose of this conversation.
“Stetson threw his hat in the ring a few days ago.”
“What?” I feel like I’ve been hit by a two-by-four. “Fucking Stetson?”
“Yes. And I only have one opening.”
I nod and clench my fists to hide my reaction. “Understood.”
“You’ll both pass the test easily. It’s the interviews that are going to be tough. You each have friends on the committee, so the vote will be split . . . and—”
“And I have the bullshit lies Stetson and his dad spread about my dad and me to contend with.” I finish his unspoken thought for him and hate to even have to say it.
“There’s that.” Another sigh. When he clenches his fists atop the file on his desk, it’s just one last visual directive to have my shit in order. To not take any of this lightly.
“I knew it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk,” I say. “But I didn’t expect to have to contend with a past I had nothing to do with.”
“I know, Grant. It’s bullshit, but it’s shit nonetheless, and at some point, we’re all forced to stand in it and try to wipe it off our heels.”
“Thanks for the head’s up,” I say and stand, needing a moment to process this.
“Let me know if I can help with anything.”
How about kick the fucker off the force?
I nod again and offer a tight smile before turning and walking out of his office. Nate catches my eye as I stride through the precinct without stopping. We’ve worked together long enough for him to recognize I’m about to lose my shit, and I know he’ll be ten steps behind me as soon as others stop paying attention.
Once outside, I walk to the edge of the lot and try to calm the fuck down.
“Grant?”
“The asshole is coming after my promotion,” I grit the words out to him.
“Stetson?”
“Fuck yes, Stetson.” I roll my shoulders and walk a few feet away from him before turning and walking back. “He can’t let it go, can he? His dad was a piss poor cop on a total power trip just like his bastard son is.”
“I’m not going to disagree with you. But why now? He just up and decided he wanted to be detective?”
“Apparently.” I laugh, but it’s void of humor. “Is he trying to avenge dear old daddy?”
“Fuck that, Malone. His dear old daddy was crooked, so your dad kicked him off the force for misconduct and marred his reputation.”
“Yep. And then he started spreading bullshit rumors about my dad to get back at him. Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair, the anger eating me raw inside.
“I know, man. I know. It was fucked up all around, but anyone who knows your dad knows the accusations are crap.”
“Does it matter? He still stepped down over it and gave them the satisfaction of thinking they had won.” The thought alone makes my body vibrate in anger. I know he didn’t step down to avoid the smudge on his incredible career but rather to remove all drama so his son, who wanted to follow in his footsteps, could do so with a clean slate in front of him.
Yeah, I’m the selfish bastard who let him do that—not that anyone could have stopped him.
“Don’t let your head go there, man. He stepped down because he had already planned on retiring, not because of you. We both know that.”
“Yeah, well . . .” How do I go from the high of last night with Emerson to this shit? “Now I get to deal with Asshole Jr.”
“He’s doing it just to spite you.”
“But he has friends in high places.”
“So do you, my friend.”
“Let’s hope so.”