Seven
Oranges bounced wildly, running races with each other down the aisle. Grayson burst into laughter as I threw myself on the pile, trying to stem the flow. No luck. The citrus tsunami could not be stopped.
I looked up, right into the disapproving glare of Mrs. Greer, my grandmother's neighbor two doors down. Five seconds ago, Grayson and I were the only ones in this part of the store. Of course, five seconds ago the oranges were all neat and tidy, too.
"Come on. Let's get out of here." Grayson took me by the elbow, encouraging me to abandon my cart.
Might as well. It's not like I could move it with all of these oranges in the way.
"Aren't we leaving the scene of a crime?" I resisted the tug on my arm. I was responsible for this mess.
"What crime? A produce riot? No, we are just in the way now." Grayson pulled me forward, and I complied. I wanted to leave this crazy scene behind me.
A manager approached with his hands on his waist, frowning at the mess. I could see oranges still rolling towards the dairy case. Red-faced, I waved an apology and left the store. I knew this story would be all over town in less than an hour.
I went straight to my beat up truck, and Grayson took my keys from my hand to open my door for me. He frowned when he realized the door was unlocked.
"Safety first. Always keep your door locked." He held my keys just out of reach, and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for my reply.
"It's Peacock, Mississippi. Nothing ever happens here." I reached for the keys, but he held them even higher. It was so hot I could smell the asphalt, a dark, oily scent that made me wrinkle my nose in displeasure.
"Says the girl who was just in a high-speed chase with a bank robber and the police." He handed me my keys as he spoke.
I climbed in, grateful to get out of the heat, and glad to get a little distance from Grayson. He was a different kind of heat, making me sweat in private places.
He stopped me from closing my door. "I followed you in because I'm covering a shift tonight for a friend. I thought you might want to start your ride alongs tonight."
"Okay, sure. What time?" I cranked the engine to get the air flowing and lifted my hair off my nape. I was sticky with sweat.
Grayson's eyes lingered on the back of my neck, and I shivered despite the heat.
"Meet me at the station at 6:40. Don't be late, sweetness." He closed my door with a firm click, and I drove away.
Looking back in my rearview mirror, I could still see him standing in the parking lot, hands in his pockets, watching me go.
***
I HAD TIME TO FIT IN a quick nap and then munched on tacos while I decided what to wear. I wanted to be comfortable, but I also wanted to be cute. I might not be looking to date Grayson, but I was vain enough to want to look good to him.
I showed up at the police station precisely on time, and Grayson greeted me with his easy smile. He looked delicious in his uniform.
"Here. Let me help you." He held up the bulletproof vest as if he was helping me with a coat. I turned, and he slipped it over my shoulders.
When I turned back around, he started adjusting the straps across my chest, customizing the fit. We were eye to eye, and I could hear the sizzle of our sexual chemistry. If this kept up, I would have a heat stroke before the evening was finished.
"Thanks." My voice was low and sensual, despite my best efforts to sound normal, and his sexy eyes darkened in response.
Grayson stepped back and put on his gun belt. I couldn't help but watch. Damn, the man was attractive. He watched me watching him, but for once, he didn't have a smirk or a witty reply. I wanted to fan myself; instead, I tucked my hands into my pockets and turned away.
Keep your mind on business, Lucy.
Soon Grayson was leading the way out to his patrol car, and he opened my door for me. I climbed in and took a quick look around. I had never been in a police car before the other night, and then I had been too distracted by the events of the evening to take it all in.
The interior of the cruiser was completely black. A shotgun hung from the dash, and there was both a laptop and a scanner dominating the rest of the front space. The backseat was separated by a metal cage. I was glad I was going to ride up front, because the back seat looked a little grubby. I could only imagine what went on in the back after someone was arrested.
I guess I would find out for myself. Maybe someone would get arrested tonight. I pulled my small camera out of its case and started getting set up.
Grayson opened his door and joined me in the car. Glancing at me, he reached across my chest and grabbed my seatbelt. I sucked in a startled breath and grasped my camera tighter. Grayson pulled the belt across me, and I heard it click into place. Once again, we were nose to nose, this time in very close quarters.
"What did I tell you about safety first?" He was so close now his nose brushed mine, and I could feel his sweet, warm breath on my face.
I swallowed.
The radio squawked, breaking the mood. I leaned back in mingled relief and disappointment. What was it about this man that caused me to forget all of my rules?
"So, Grayson." I stopped, feeling awkward. I don't even know what I was about to say. Searching about for a topic of discussion, I settled on the mundane. "Hot tonight, isn't it?"
"Oh, it's very hot." Grayson’s eyes dropped to my lips as he started the car without watching what he was doing. He seemed far more interested in me than the car.
I bit my lip. Then I swallowed again, and his eyes dropped to my throat. I felt my nipples tighten underneath the vest, and I was glad he couldn't see that.
Grayson cleared his throat. "So. This is my patrol car. Don't touch the radio or the shotgun." He indicated the short shotgun hanging between us on the dash.
He backed out of the parking space in a hurry, and I was forced back against my seat by his driving. He frowned and gave all of his attention to the road.
I rested my camera in my lap and twisted my fingers together. "Okay, I guess I will start by asking you a few basic interview questions on camera."
He smirked. "Is this your date interview or your project interview?"
I lifted my chin and ignored him, determined to keep this professional. Hard to keep that promise with my nipples rubbing against this vest. "I'll go back later and edit, and add background information or whatever else is needed."
I lifted the camera and aimed it at Grayson. "Officer Jackson, tell me why you decided to be a police officer."
I expected him to say he liked fast cars or catching bad guys. Maybe he liked the thrill of the chase, or Tasing unruly suspects.
"When I was a little boy, my mom and I were pulled over in a routine traffic stop. The cop was so polite and helpful. My mom was flustered, afraid she was getting a ticket, and she was also broke. When the officer told her that her taillight was out, she started crying, and said something about not having the money to replace the burned out bulb." Grayson paused to listen to the chatter on the scanner for a moment, and then he continued. "The officer explained that replacing the bulb was cheap and easy to do. He said he would meet her at the station after his shift and take care of that for her. My mom was so relieved that she started crying."
He turned on his signal and shifted in his seat. "I will never forget his willingness to go above and beyond to help the public. I decided that night I wanted to do the same."
I hit stop on the camera, and we sat in silence for a moment. Grayson was turning out to be full of surprises.
Grayson turned my direction. "You said you were raised first by your dad, and then later by your grandmother. I understand how hard that is. I never knew my dad. He took off before I was born. My mother struggled financially, and running into people who cared, like that police officer that night, made a big difference to her."
"I'll be honest. I thought you were going to say you liked chasing the bad guys, or something similar to that." I smiled at him.
Grayson laughed. "Yeah, I like that, too. My favorite thing is to tackle some asshole who has just broken the law. Knock him clean off his feet."
We both laughed. This was more like it. This version of Grayson was easy to understand.
I turned the camera back on. "So how busy is a Monday night in Peacock? Can I expect to see a lot of action tonight?"
Grayson smirked. I was getting attached to that damn smirk. I wanted to lick it.
"It probably will be slow tonight. But if action is what you want, see me when my shift ends." Grayson gave me another comical, exaggerated wink.
I dropped the camera back into my lap. "Ugh, stop it. Now I'll have to edit that last line out." But I was smiling in spite of my mock indignation.
“Honestly, most nights patrol is boring. Just a lot of riding around. Maybe some traffic stops. Maybe a motorist having car trouble.” He turned on his signal in anticipation of a turn. “Police officers try to help people, either by getting criminals off the street or by helping someone in distress. Every once in a while, I run up against a drunk driver. I don’t play with that. Or maybe somebody gets belligerent because they have a warrant or drugs on them, and they don’t want to go to jail. But mostly it’s quiet and routine.”
I thought about Grayson’s words for a minute or two. Was I dismissing my overwhelming attraction to this man based on unfounded fears?
At that moment the scanner fired up. I could barely make out what was being said. To me, it was a garble of static and code words, but Grayson seemed to understand every word.
"Maybe tonight will be busier than I thought." He pulled into a driveway to turn around. "My buddy Eric is behind a suspicious car on Highway 82. That's right around the corner. Let's go give him an assist."
"Woohoo!" I was excited to see him in action, and maybe this would distract me from thinking about my attraction to him. I started videoing again, concentrating my attention on his strong hands and the way they handled the steering wheel.
Grayson smiled at my enthusiasm and floored the patrol car.
He was so hot. So much for being distracted.
I repeated his summary of the situation for the camera's sake. Maybe I should attach a temporary mount to the dash to film all the time, and I could borrow a second camera from the journalism department to carry during times when I left the car on foot. I made a mental note to make that happen.
In no time at all, we rolled up on the empty parking lot of the local Goodwill and parked next to the donation bins. Grayson's officer friend, Eric, was just stepping out of his car. The suspect's car had a lone occupant who remained in the driver's seat. I made a quick sweep of the scene with my camera, trying to stay close to get what I needed, but not wanting to be in the way.
Eric stepped up to the driver's window and asked for a driver's license and proof of insurance. Grayson walked around the car with a casual air, but I could see him looking into the windows.
"I don't have my license on me." The guy was so pale that he looked like he had been dead for three days. His stringy hair fell forward over his eyes, and his car was littered with empty chip bags and crushed beer cans.
I saw Grayson shine his flashlight on one of the beer cans, but his facial expression never changed.
Eric was keeping a poker face, too. "Sir, please step out of the car."
The driver's door creaked open, and he climbed out. "I know my rights, man. You can't search my car." His stance matched his belligerent tone.
"Nobody said anything about searching your car. But now that you bring it up, is there anything illegal in the car that we should know about?" Eric never took his eyes off the driver as he spoke.
I was shocked when the driver took off running, but Eric and Grayson didn't hesitate. Eric pressed a button on his shoulder radio and rattled off some code, but both men were in pursuit.
I tried to keep up as best I could, but I was clumsy with the camera.
Wham! Grayson collided with the driver not too far from the car, and both men hit the ground hard.
"Let me see your hands! Let me see your hands!" Grayson was yelling in that authoritative voice that always turned me on.
They scuffled on the ground, and Eric piled on. Soon the driver was cuffed, and Grayson did a quick search of the man’s pockets, finding nothing.
Eric pulled the driver to his feet, and we all walked back to the car.
Eric's poker face was gone, replaced by irritation. "Why did you run, man? We were just asking you some basic questions."
"I don't like cops." The driver was more out of breath than the two officers. "I think you broke my fucking arm!"
Grayson ignored his whining and put on disposable gloves. He started searching the car. He pulled out a dozen empty beer cans, and I zoomed my camera in on the pile.
The driver continued protesting. "You can't search my car! I know my rights."
Eric rolled his eyes. "You got pulled over for running a stop sign and swerving on the road. How much have you had to drink tonight, sir?" He pulled a breathalyzer from his patrol car and began administering the test.
No surprise when the driver failed. Eric showed him the results, and the fight went out of him.
Grayson walked up. "What's that hanging out of your butt, sir?"
Surprised, I jerked my head back around to the driver. I zoomed the camera in the direction Grayson was pointing. Sure enough, a small amount of plastic wrap was poking out of the back of the man's waistband.
Grayson reached over and started pulling. A massive bag of weed fell out, and Grayson looked as green as the weed.
I didn't understand why until Eric started laughing. "Did that just come out of his ass?"
"Yes, it did. I've never been so glad to be wearing gloves." Grayson twisted his face in disgust.
I giggled before I could stop it. Oh well, editing would take care of my unprofessional response.
A harsh banging sound startled all of us, including the guy in cuffs. It appeared to be coming from the metal donation bin a few feet away.
I turned my camera in that direction, curious. What could possibly be making that sound?
The suspect shifted on his feet. “Man, there is somebody in that donation box. I’m freaking out! Get me out of here.”
Grayson rolled his eyes, and he walked over to the donation bin. He pulled out his heavy duty flashlight and prepared to open the container. When he slid open the doors, a large raccoon jumped out at him, and I’m pretty sure I peed my pants a little.
Grayson ducked and Eric threw his head back and laughed. The raccoon scuttled away.
Grayson gave me a rueful grin. “I guess I didn’t look so tough when that raccoon popped out at me.”
I smiled back. “You did better than I did.”
Grayson continued to impress me. He was a badass, but he wasn’t afraid of looking silly.
Soon Eric had the driver in the back of his car to take him for a more thorough search at Peacock's jail, and Grayson and I were back on the road. He parked in a different parking lot where he could watch traffic on Main Street and opened his laptop.
"I will get a head start on my report for that last stop unless we get another radio call. I'll finish the report after my shift." He explained when I looked at him in question. "I can't get a lot of the paperwork done on the road, but it's nice to get it started. Even if we don't get a radio call, I need to drive through the business section of town, and look for any potential problems."
"I didn't realize that you had so much paperwork." I kept the camera trained on him as he typed on the computer.
"Oh, yeah. A ton of paperwork. But like I said, I prefer to spend my time on patrol, so maybe we can prevent problems before they get too bad." He typed for a moment and then hit enter several times in a row.
"Like what kind of problems?" I raised an eyebrow and continued videoing. I was enjoying this project even more than I thought I would.
"Like burglaries in progress, stranded motorists, DUIs..." He trailed off as he typed some more.
I couldn't help but think of my dad, pulling someone over for a simple traffic stop, and getting killed by a drunk driver passing the scene.
I lowered my camera. A wave of tiredness washed over me. There was no denying Grayson had a dangerous job, even if it had boring moments or even comical ones.
He looked up, seeming to sense my mood.
"What's going on over there?" Grayson snapped the laptop shut.
I didn't answer, just yawned and stretched. Let him think I was bored.
But he wasn't fooled. His eyes softened as he looked at me. He stashed the laptop away, never taking his eyes off my face. He cupped the back of my head in one of his strong hands and leaned closer.
The smell of his cologne drifted my way, and I closed my eyes. His lips pressed tiny butterfly kisses on the tip of my nose and across my jaw. I trembled, and he captured my mouth with his. Gentle, teasing licks across my mouth coaxed me to open for him, and he deepened the kiss.
I had never experienced a kiss like this one. His kiss was soft and romantic and promised so much more. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with the enthusiasm of a woman who had waited all her life for this kind of passion.
Wait, what?
I broke the kiss and leaned back, confused. I couldn't kiss Grayson. It was a bad idea. Right? But it felt so good.
Let’s make a list of reasons why kissing Grayson wasn’t smart:
- The Manlist hadn't been consulted.
- He had a dangerous job, just like my dad.
- He didn't seem interested in a long-term relationship.
So many reasons why kissing him was a bad idea. The problem was I wanted to kiss him again. I needed a poster of this particular list to mount on the dash next to my camera. I had a feeling I was going to need more reminders of why I shouldn’t kiss him.
Grayson seemed to have a hard time catching his breath. He hadn't really gotten out of breath when he chased that runner down a while ago, but now he was breathless.
That made two of us.
"This..." I motioned between the two of us, "This is a bad idea. No can do."
Grayson seemed to struggle to focus on my words. He ran a hand over his face and frowned up at the roof of his patrol car.
"I never do this." His words were short as if it hurt him to force them out.
"Do what?" I shrank back against my seat.
"Mess around when I'm working. Damn it." He put the car in drive and headed out of the parking lot. His jaw was clenched, and he didn't look my way.
We spent the rest of the night like that, lost in our thoughts, avoiding contact with each other. It didn't help that the night was quiet. After the exciting discovery of the man with drugs hidden in his butt, and then the surprise raccoon, nothing much happened. Not even a speeding ticket. Just Grayson brooding in his seat, and me reminding myself why kissing him couldn't ever happen again.
I passed the time on my phone since there was nothing for me to video, and Grayson didn't seem inclined to talk. I pulled up a dating app and looked for prospects. I found one where the guy said he was a doctor, and clicked on it, curious.
Handsome Surgeon Seeks Caring Lady with Beautiful Feet for Star Gazing, Wine Tours, and So Much More
I am the man you have been searching for...I like nothing more than stargazing with the right woman by my side.
The first thing people usually notice about me is my high level of intelligence, followed by my tremendous wit, and my muscular arms.
If you're the right woman for me, you'll be caring and sexy. Light my fire, and send me pics. -Cutter3042
I shook my head in disbelief. Beautiful feet? Wine tours in Mississippi? His muscular arms? There was a lot going on in this ridiculous profile.
Grayson started laughing. I jumped and looked his way.
"Stop reading over my shoulder." I punched him in the shoulder in retaliation.
"Muscular arms? Is that on the Manlist?" He kept laughing as he parked behind the police station. It was time to call it a day.
I was glad we were back on good terms, but really.
"It's definitely not what I'm looking for." I packed up the camera but laughed along with Grayson this time. "Dating sucks."
"Then you are dating the wrong guy. Throw out the Manlist, delete the dating app, and go out with me." He leaned toward me with an intent gaze.
"I thought you didn't mess around on the job." I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened my car door.
"I'm not messing around. I'm just asking you a simple question. Are you in, Lucy?" He brushed a curl behind my ear, and I felt the chemistry light up my body.
"I told you I don't date cops." I got out of the car, trying to look a matter of fact, but my knees were knocking together.
Grayson followed me over to my old truck, opening my door and shaking his head when he realized it wasn't locked.
"What?" My tone was defensive. "I'm literally parked behind a police station. What could possibly happen here?"
He pushed me up against my car and kissed me. It was a quick kiss, but hard and thorough. My toes curled, and that was about all the reaction I had time for before it was over.
"That is what could possibly happen here." And with that, Grayson turned towards the station. He watched me start my truck, and back out of the parking space. When I turned back to the road after checking behind me, he was gone.
I was lonely all the way home.