“Sugar,” he said, unable to look away.
She blinked and turned away, but then she looked back. “I saw the news last night about the officer who was killed. The second one to be killed in the last month.”
Brit’s donut lost its flavor, and the erotic images in his mind faded. He inhaled. “Yeah.”
Concern filled her eyes. “Wasn’t he the same officer who came to my house?”
He nodded. “Mike Anderson. Just a kid. I…hate it.” He dropped the rest of his donut in the bag and tossed it in the trash with last night’s dinner containers.
When he looked up, she blinked those big blues at him. “I’m sorry. I imagine it must be hard to lose a fellow officer. I know it’s hard when people ask questions about someone you lost.”
“Yeah,” his voice gave the word more meaning than he wanted. From the look on her face, she’d heard and understood it.
She sipped her coffee and looked into her cup as if lost in thought.
“Coffee okay?” he asked, longing to fight the wave of grief trying to nudge its way into her mood again.
“Yeah, it’s fine. You remembered how I take my coffee. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He shrugged. “Told you I wasn’t a total dickhead.”
She smiled. He had to stop himself from leaning in and kissing her. But damn he wanted to taste her. To taste the sheen of oil from her lips. To taste the sweetness of sugar on her tongue.
“Do you know where he lived?” she asked.
“Who lived?” he asked.
“The other officer. Mike Anderson. That first night, I remember thinking he looked familiar, and again last night when I saw his picture on the news. I thought maybe I knew him from somewhere. Maybe the grocery store or something.”
He hesitated, but remembered from Mike’s file. “In Springville, just north of here.”
“Were you two close?”
He shook his head. “Not really. But from what I knew of him, he was a decent guy.”
She pressed her lips to the cup and stared at him over the rim. He could almost feel her trying to read him. “Did you know the other officer who was killed?”
Damn, he didn’t want to talk about this. “You ready to go?” He stood, hoping to leave the question behind.
“You knew him better, didn’t you?”
He pitched his coffee in the garbage. “Yeah.” He exhaled. “He was my partner. And my best friend.”
~
His SUV stayed behind her as she drove. Cali thought about the pain she’d seen in his eyes when he talked about his partner. She’d sensed earlier that they were both going through something. She’d been right. They were both grieving. Her heart ached for him. Was that why she felt drawn to him?
He’s going through something, she remembered her mom saying. How had her mom known? When Cali pulled into the school parking lot on automatic, her mind chewed on the dreams and the crazy possibility they presented.
No, her mom didn’t know. Her mom was gone. The dreams were exactly what the counselor said they were—her maternal psyche verbalizing her own intuitiveness.
Stopping her car, she stared at the nearly empty parking lot. “Where is everyone?” The realization hit. Oh yeah, today was an in-service day. The kids wouldn’t be here, which meant she’d be in meetings all day.
Normally, she enjoyed a break from the daily grind, but this morning in the shower she’d worried about Sara and hoped to check in on her. As Cali parked, she decided she’d give the girl a call. It never hurt to let someone know they weren’t alone.
Brit’s SUV pulled in beside her. She waved at him, thinking he might just take off. But nope, he got out and met her as she closed her car door. She remembered how he’d looked at her while they’d been eating donuts. For a second there, she thought he’d been going to kiss her—which probably wouldn’t have been a good thing. But it hadn’t prevented her from wishing he’d tried.
Not that she would have allowed it. Or at least she told herself she wouldn’t have.
He stopped in front of her. A cold wind gusted, and she was tempted to move closer just because he looked so warm. She recalled again how she’d cried on his shoulder almost in this very spot. Recalled how good it had felt to have his arms around her, too.
“What time are you off?” he asked.
“Three, but I don’t expect you to come back.”
“Why not?” He shifted closer. Tall, dark, strong. And warm. She met his eyes and saw the shadows of grief there, the same thing she felt. It took everything she had not to lean against him. She wanted to console him and be consoled.
“Because...” She couldn’t think with him this close.
“Don’t leave the school until I get here. I’m serious.”
Don’t go to lunch tomorrow. Her mom’s warning whispered in her head.