Page 11 of Denial
“What’s this?” I bark. Bemusement fills me when neither of them shrinks in the slightest.
In fact, Silas grins wider.
“Did you know she’s carrying around a cactus?”
I cut a hard glare at Silas. He holds up both hands in surrender.
“I can see you have business to attend to. I’ll see myself out.”
“Thank you for keeping me company,” she calls sweetly after him.
The edge of my clipboard bites into my fingers.
“Enjoy your stay in Fairview Valley. Try to stay out of trouble.” Silas tips his chin.
“Trouble isn’t exactly my middle name, but it does seem to follow me around.”
“Of course it does,” I huff as Silas walks past. His amused chuckle ticks my irritation up a notch.
I dig out my key and unlock the cuffs on her wrists. My fingers cramp as I avoid touching her skin.
“Arizona cleared the paperwork.”
“Do you always get this excited about paperwork?”
My tongue wets my bottom lip. Jesus. This woman isn’t just going to break the law. She’s going to break me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You need to finish this up with them, but you’re free to go.”
“Oh, good. I have plans.” She dances to her feet and begins shoving phone chargers, what looks like twelve tubes of lip gloss, and a small stack of papers back into her purse.
Plans?
Not once during this eventful detention has she mentioned that she had somewhere to be.
I cut my gaze through the glass and find Silas with his back to the room.
There’s no way my brother would ask out a detainee in handcuffs. He might be single, but he’s not desperate.
My jaw hardens. At least I don’t think he’s that desperate.
I hold out her paperwork. “Do not drive until you clear this with the Arizona Motor Vehicle Division. Your license is still suspended.”
She spins toward me, her black hair fanning around her shoulders, and throws her purse strap over her head. “Define ‘cannot’ for me.”
I stare. The jokes just keep flowing. About me. About my authority. About this absurd situation. Does she take anything in her life seriously?
And yet…
I can’t entirely find it within me to care.
“You’re impossible,” I mutter.
“And you’re grumpy.” She skips out the door with her cactus in hand.
I follow her to the exit and pause against the doorjamb. “Somehow I think we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
She pretends to shiver. “You’re a little too chilly for my tastes, Officer…” She tilts her head in confusion, and I realize she’s waiting for my name.
