Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(3)

As soon as he was gone, Gabe shook his head. “Babe? Wow. Gotta hand it to you, Elle, he’s a whole new level of asshat.”

“See you later, Chris,” Elle said, pointedly ignoring Gabe’s remark before turning on her heel and striding toward the door.

Gabe muttered a curse under his breath, then cast a glance at his friend. “I’ll be right back, Chris. Order somethin’ for me, will ya?”

He didn’t wait for a response before hurrying after Elle and catching her just as she was pushing open the door. “Here,” he said, holding it open for her. “Let me get that.”

She huffed and turned toward him, giving him a perplexed look. “I don’t get you, Dawson.” She sighed. “One minute you’re a total jackass with the social graces of an ape, and the next you’re a complete gentleman.”

He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and offered her a grin. “What can I say? I’m a total enigma.”

She rolled her eyes, but her mouth hitched up slightly in one corner. “Yeah, right.”

“You know what I think?” he asked.

She blinked at him, her sarcasm in every bat of her lovely eyes as she said, “Oh, do tell. This should be enlightening.”

He leaned slightly toward her. “I think that deep down you actually really like me and that this whole ‘kiss my ass, you suck, Gabe’ attitude is just an act to disguise your true feelings.”

He didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed even as she turned her eyes up to the ceiling, as if considering his words. Then she shook her head. “Nope. Pretty sure it’s for real.”

“Nah,” he drawled, leaning in just a little closer. “I know you, McCoy.”

She raised a single brow, and there was no mistaking the challenge this time around. He had the sneaking suspicion she enjoyed their little sparring matches as much as he did. “Dawson,” she said, closing the gap just enough to make him hold his breath in anticipation, “the only thing you know about me is my measurements.”

Ouch.

He straightened, clutching his chest as if she’d struck him. “Knife to the heart, McCoy. Knife to the heart.”

She patted his chest with mock sympathy. “Be strong, Dawson. I’m sure any pain you’re suffering at my rejection will be short-lived.”

“Let me take you out for a drink tonight at Mulaney’s,” he suggested. “Give me the chance to turn on the ol’ Dawson charm.”

“I’ve never known you to be without a date on a Friday night,” she said, her tone a little wary. “Hit a dry spell?”

He shrugged. “Was just keeping the night open for you.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said. “But don’t worry—I doubt you’ll have any trouble finding some bubbleheaded badge bunny who’ll fall for that famous ‘charm’ of yours.”

Ah, hell, she’s even gone with the finger quotes.

Gabe chuckled, but before he could say another word, she offered him a teasing grin and followed the douche-suit outside, leaving Gabe standing in the doorway smiling like an idiot.

God, if she only knew how she slayed him with every rejection. The woman was torture. Absolute torture.

As soon as Gabe returned to their table, Chris whistled. “Damn, man, you weren’t kidding. I’ve had convicts look at me with more love than that. What the hell did you do to piss Elle off?”

Gabe shook his head. “Got me.”

At that moment, their waitress, Debbie—no wait, Deirdre—finally came up to their table wearing a pissed off look and a blouse that was just a little too tight for her ample bosom. “Well, hi, Gabe,” she said, setting down a glass of water in front of Chris so hard that it sloshed out onto the Formica table. “I haven’t seen you in here in a while. Or, you know, anywhere else for that matter.”

Gabe sent a quick glance Chris’s way just in time to catch the amused look on his face. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been working another area of the county lately.”

She gave him a tight smile and slammed his glass down. “I’ll bet.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “So, uh…how ya been?”

She tilted her head to one side, giving him a dirty look. “Like you care.” She then turned to Chris and offered him a bright smile. “What can I get you, Officer?”

Chris gave his order, all the while smothering a smile—the bastard—but when Gabe started to give his, Deirdre turned away in a huff, blond ponytail swinging, and marched angrily back to the kitchen.

“What the hell?” Gabe muttered, lifting his arms to his sides.

“Well, you’re just making friends everywhere,” Chris taunted. “Probably just as well. I don’t know that I’d eat anything she serves you if I were you. She looks like she’d like to see you gargling broken glass. Dare I ask what you did to piss her off? Or are you clueless on this one, too?”

Oh, no, that one Gabe knew.

“Let’s just say I was more of a gentleman than she expected and leave it at that,” Gabe grumbled, pushing back from the table. “I’m going to go see if I can just put in an order at the counter. Back in a sec.”

Gabe strode toward the counter, glancing out the expanse of windows that lined the front of the diner as he went, his pulse kicking up when he saw a man making his way in from the parking lot. The guy had his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched over, and his baseball cap pulled down over sandy-brown hair, his eyes cast down at the pavement. Not exactly anything out of the ordinary, but something about the guy seemed off.