They both kiss my forehead before disappearing out of the room. I grab my phone and see a couple of texts from some casual friends from school fishing for information about the fight with Tawney. I don’t bother responding because like Dad said, it’ll blow over, especially when the next big thing happens.
On that note, I fall asleep.
I slip on my favorite blue paisley maxi dress and then quickly braid my hair. I throw my bag of toiletries on my bed and then fold the dresses, shorts, tank tops, and bikinis that I’m taking on my little road trip to San Diego.
It’s been almost a week since the stupid catfight I got into with Tawney. The bruises under my eyes are gone thankfully and the swelling in my nose is gone. I haven’t heard a peep from Maverick since that night, but I didn’t really expect to.
I was naïve to think that there could be something there between us, but we had shared an intense experience—maybe that’s all it was. This week away, eating good food, drinking, and spending time with friends should be just what the doctor ordered.
Throwing the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I grab my purse, and then head outside. As I put the bag in the back seat, I spot a police SUV driving toward me. It stops next to my car and then he steps out.
Maverick comes around to my side, and I don’t want to admit how sexy he looks in his uniform. I ignore the way my heart flutters, and the butterflies that take flight in my belly. “What are you doing here?”
“Your dad said you were going to San Diego to visit some friends.”
I nod. “Yep, I met them last year in Hawaii. We just clicked.” I don’t know why I’m even explaining myself to him.
“Is that really safe? How well do you know these people?”
I try to open the driver’s side door, but he stops me. I whip around and get in his face. “My safety is not really your concern. I know them well enough that I feel comfortable staying with them… and their two kids.”
Maverick sinks his fingers into my hair, using them to pull my head back. “I’m so sorry about that night. I had thought about going home with Tawney for about two seconds and I just couldn’t do it. That shit she spewed at you was uncalled for and I know it’s my fault. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
I kind of don’t know what to say right now. I’m not too proud to accept someone’s apology, especially when it seems to be sincere. “I appreciate you coming out here to apologize. Let’s just chalk it up to a fucked up situation. Maybe we can be friends.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to be friends.” Maverick’s voice causes goosebumps to pop up all over my body. “Tell me, do you really only want to be just friends?”
I shake my head slowly.
“Go visit your friends and when you come back, let me take you out. Let’s see if there is something there between us because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
The butterflies take flight again. Can I take that chance? “Yeah, okay. Let’s go out when I get back.”
Maverick surprises me by kissing me, slowly and thoroughly. I open my mouth to him and moan as his tongue brushes mine. This guy can kiss and I grip the front of his uniform. All too soon, he pulls back. “You better hit the road.”
I nod. He pulls the door open for me and before I close the door, he leans in. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but text me when you get there, please.”
“I’ll text you, I promise.”
“Drive safe.” He closes the door for me, and I start my car, blasting the AC. I roll down my window. “Bye.”
Maverick knocks twice on the roof and then backs away.
As I drive away a moment later, I watch him, watching me, in the rearview mirror. I wonder what prompted his visit, but I’m glad he came. Now I don’t feel like I’m running away, it’s just a little mid-vacay, vacay.
Twelve
Maverick
Gwen’s been gone for three days, and we’ve texted a lot. She did as I had asked and texted me when she got to her friends’ house. The smart ass even sent me a picture of herself in front of their mailbox, giving a thumbs up.
After the night at Hooligan’s, I did a lot of thinking and I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I was worried how Chief Malone was going to treat me at work, but he was nice… enough. I’m sure he has questions, and hell, maybe he just doesn’t want to know the answers.
A lot of my dickhead brothers in blue have been giving me shit about the catfight I started. Of course the way Gwen swung at Tawney was no catfight. My girl knew how to fight. My girl, hmm… I like the sound of that. Why the fuck does it not scare me?
There was an attraction there, from the start, but I want to know if it’s just sexual. When we’re together it’s explosive, and she’s the best I ever fucking had, but a relationship can’t survive just on sex, eventually it fizzles out if there is not more there—at least that’s what I assume, since I’ve never had a real relationship.
She’ll be home the day after tomorrow and she’s coming straight to my house to spend the weekend with me.
I focus back on the grill. Troy and a couple other buddies of ours are over for burgers, beers, and the UFC fights. My phone pings and I see that it’s a text from Gwen, she could probably feel me thinking about her.
I open it and smile. It’s a picture of Gwen, her hair blowing behind her and a little girl sits in her lap. They’re smiling at each other.
Gwen: This is Jasmine and she’s been my shadow since I got here.
I type out a quick response.
Maverick: She’s cute. Are you having a good time?
Gwen: I am. We’ve spent a lot of time at the beach. Tonight we’re having a huge Cajun feast. Dane is from Louisiana and he wants to cook us some of his favorites growing up. We’re having Gumbo, red beans and rice, and who knows what else. I’m currently on Hurricane number two.
I smile and quickly type my reply.
Maverick: That sounds delicious and I’m super jealous. Go enjoy your friends and we’ll talk soon.
Gwen: Okay talk to you later.
I stick my phone back in my pocket and turn to find Troy staring at me. “What?”
“Nothing, man. Nothing at all.”
I throw the burgers on a platter and we head inside to grub.
I follow behind the car in front of me at a safe distance. They’ve been weaving slightly toward the center line for the past two blocks. They could’ve just turned their head for a second, but then the car does it again.
I flip on my lights and sirens. They pull over and I stop behind them. I climb out of my cruiser and when I reach the driver’s side I see that it’s the lady who lives across the street from me. Her name’s Ida Johnson and she has got to be pushing ninety.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Johnson. How are you doing today?”
She looks up at me and smiles. “Well hello, Officer Graves. Don’t you look handsome in your uniform.” Ida pats my hand. “Was I speeding?”
“No, ma’am. You were swerving across the middle line.”