Page 6 of Breaking All The Rules
Now?
She walked back to him, mounting the curb and stepping into his space—just a little—then she poked him in the chest. “And I’m going to be your worst nightmare, buddy.”
Ordinarily, a member of the public getting up in his face—even here in Credence, where he knew everyone—would ring all kinds of alarm bells. He’d been trained to always be alert and to keep members of the public out of his personal space, but this woman didn’t feel like a threat.
In fact, he felt absurdly like laughing his ass off.
“Officer Cooper,” he supplied instead, pointing to the badge on his chest.
She nodded and said, “Officer”—poke—“Cooper.” Poke.
Up this close, he could see those remarkable green eyes and those luscious lips and also the fine lines around her eyes. She was a bit older than him, he realized, before another realization hit—could he smell…beer?
He eased back from her a little. “Ma’am, are you drunk?”
“What?” She glared at him crankily. “No.” And then her expression changed again. “Oh, wait…I did have a beer for breakfast. But I’m not drunk.”
“You had beer for breakfast?” Now there were some life goals.
She nodded, suddenly all combative again. “Yeah. And you know why? Because I’m a rule breaker.” And then he watched her face as it changed again. “Wait…” She narrowed her eyes a little. “Public drunkenness is against the law, right?”
Austin nodded and plucked some random numbers from his head. “Town ordinance one eight two dash nine.”
“In that case, I am drunk. I am very drunk, Ossifer. I refused to give you my name, I jaywalked, and I’m drunk in public.”
As if to emphasize her point, she burped—loudly.
Good lord, with her impressive belching ability, flyaway hair, lived-in clothes, questionable footwear, and her beer for breakfast, she was a frat boy wet dream. Austin had never been part of a fraternity, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little bit turned on.
“I’m a rule breaker,” she continued. “It’s your duty to arrest me.” She thrust her hands out to him again.
Austin sighed. He’d never met anyone—man or woman—who wanted to be tossed in a cell so badly. Who was he to disappoint? “All right, then.” He gestured at his car. “Get in.”
She frowned and didn’t move. “Don’t you need to cuff me?”
“If you want me to cuff you, we can talk about doing that late one night after maybe some dinner and dancing, but I only ever cuff someone who’s dangerous or a flight risk.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m not either of those things?”
“Superior policing skills.”
She rolled her eyes and said, “I could take you.”
Austin suppressed a smile, admiring her bravado. “You’re welcome to try, ma’am.”
She eyed him up and down for a moment, like she was seriously contemplating it, before coming to the inevitable realization. “Fine,” she huffed. “No cuffs. But forget the dinner and dancing; this was your one and only chance.”
He grinned as she yanked the car door open. He never could resist a challenge.
CHAPTER THREE
Bea had never been in a police station in her life, so she hadn’t really known what to expect, but it didn’t seem that different from a lot of cop shows she’d snatched glimpses of throughout the years. Kinda old and worn around the edges, the color scheme something drab from who knew how many decades ago.
This place needed some serious help with branding.
A long desk—the top of which appeared to be made out of a thick slab of wood—was the first thing Bea saw. A middle-aged man in uniform and glasses stood behind it. He looked up curiously as they entered but didn’t say anything as Officer Cooper ushered her beyond the desk to a central area, where four desks, each with their own computer monitor, had all been pushed together in a square formation.
Like kindergarten, minus the pots of paint and the Play-Doh.
