him now. For months, he’d preached teamwork to her like a televangelist, and here he was basking in the spotlight of individual praise.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” she said after what must have been the most pregnant pause known to mankind.
“Uh. Thanks.”
Strange, she’d been obliged to say something nice, and yet she’d almost sounded sincere. That couldn’t be right. She was the last person he’d expect to get caught up in this hero nonsense. Did Delia see him differently now? Would he enjoy it if she did? As Ben pushed away those disconcerting thoughts, Delia tilted her head and a tress of shiny hair escaped its clip, falling across her jawline. It came to rest along the fair skin of her neck.
The impulse to test the feel of those silky-looking strands struck him so fast that his hand reached out before he had time to get his thinking straight. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets, blinking several times, his mouth suddenly dry. What was that? Never mind that the woman was clear across the room, nor that this particular woman would have slugged him for getting too close. Thankfully, she must have missed his idiotic move because she reached up and shoved her hair out of the way herself.
He swallowed. What was he doing focusing on Delia like that anyway? Make that Trooper Morgan. Even if the overly independent officer had been an enigma to him since she’d been assigned to the Brighton Post nearly a year before, now wasn’t the best time for him to try to figure her out. He had no business thinking of her in any way other than as a fellow officer, either. Especially not as an attractive woman.
“Well, I wonder who’s out protecting the citizens of Michigan this morning.”
Ben straightened like a teenager caught scoping out a girl during a bio quiz, which was especially awkward since he was thirty-two and Delia was twenty-six. Luckily, none of the other officers had noticed his gawking. They’d turned to the far doorway where Captain Lou Polaski stood, his beefy arms crossed, his expression stern. But then the hard line of his mouth curled, and he started clapping, setting off another round of applause.
“Well done, Lieutenant Peterson.”
“Thanks, Captain.”
With a nod, the post commander shifted to face the whole group.
“Yesterday’s events offer the post some positive PR in a time of state belt-tightening and post closures,” he said. “But they should also serve as reminders that we always need to be prepared to react. Even while off duty.
“We are first responders. Period.” Polaski swiped a hand through the air to emphasize the finality of that point. “The requirement for us to carry our weapons at all times is not just a suggestion. We must always be ready. Lives depend on it.”
The flash of panic that Ben had experienced inside that bank lobby rose again like bile in his throat. His pulse thrummed now as it had then, while he’d frantically tried to recall whether or not he’d strapped on his ankle holster before running errands. If he’d forgotten just that once, the post might have had little to celebrate today.
The squad room fell silent at the gravity of Polaski’s words. Was Ben the only one whose insides quaked at the thought of flags flying at half-mast? Who worried that his mistakes could have grave consequences and leave grave markers in their wake? These troopers put themselves in harm’s way every day. They did it for their fellow officers, who were like family, and they did it for people they’d never met. Yesterday’s incident only reminded them of what the stakes were. And how high.
“So on that note, everybody get back to work.” Polaski pointed with his thumb to the steel door that led to the parking lot. “The state isn’t paying you to stand around, patting each other on the back.”
Ben breathed a sigh of relief. The rodeo show was over. At least for now. The normal din of the squad room returned as troopers shrugged into their coats, grabbed their radios off chargers and started for the door. Some of the higher-ranking officers drifted down the hall, but Ben waited for the last few troopers to leave on patrol.
Instead of rushing out to her car to be first on the road the way she usually did, Trooper Morgan took her time collecting her things. When the door closed behind the others, she turned back to him.
“Lieutenant Peterson, you did a great job yesterday.”
Ben stared at her. She’d probably felt pressured to say something kind earlier, but this was overkill.
“It’s what we’re trained to do,” he managed over the awkwardness clogging his throat.
“But you really did it.”
“Uh...thanks.”
The inflection in his last word made his comment sound like a question, and he recognized that it was one. Was that shock he’d heard in her voice? Or awe? It must have sounded strange to her as well because her eyes went wide. He should have looked away. It would have been the decent thing to do when she looked uncomfortable enough to fire through the floor for an escape route. But he couldn’t drag his gaze from her face. Porcelain skin without a freckle anywhere, a straight nose with one of those cute tipped-up ends that women paid good money for and a mouth as close to a perfect bow as any he’d ever seen.
Why had he never noticed those things about her before? Weren’t details supposed to be the bread and butter of good police work? Maybe it was because she was behaving as suspiciously as a suspect with half a dozen crack cocaine rocks in her pocket. Or maybe because she was treating him so differently today. Like she admired him or something equally unbelievable.
No matter the cause, it was ridiculous to be seeing Delia Morgan as if for the first time and, worse yet, this time he was noticing all the wrong things. As if to put an exclamation mark on that point, his gaze dipped to just below her silver badge where small breasts softened the boxy lines of her uniform. Would they be as perfect as he imagined? He averted his gaze as heat rushed to his face. He really was just a horny teenager, hiding behind a uniform and a fancy title.
The trooper must have read his mind because she lifted her chin to stare him down for his unprofessional behavior, an expression that might have been more effective if she’d been standing on the desk instead of next to him where she had to look up. Way up. Nevertheless, she was again that tough young officer, too independent for anyone’s good, including her own.
“Well, Trooper—” he paused, clearing his throat “—be safe out there. Remember, call for backup when you need it.”
“I will...if I need it.”
Ben chose to let the comment pass this time. She couldn’t take back what she’d said earlier, anyway. And if she really did see him differently now, then maybe she would finally listen to his teamwork message. Finally buy into it just a little. He could hope, couldn’t he?
“Also, you should try to meet up with everybody after your shift. They’re going to the Driftwood instead of Casey’s Diner this time. I’m sure the others would like it if you came.”
“Okay. Sure.”
She didn’t look at him as she said it. He made a mental note to remember how she looked, acted when she was lying. She shoved open the door, allowing the frigid air to whoosh inside, and stepped outside. Either she or the wind pushed it closed behind her.
For a few seconds, Ben could only study the exit and wonder what had just happened. Their strange
