Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(38)
“Put me on it,” Joe suggested without hesitation. He’d been mulling over just this kind of solution on the drive over to the department. When Tom opened his mouth to protest, Joe said in a rush, “You know the guys are nervous about me coming back on duty, but the Old Man wants me back on the job. So assign me to the case. You’re car two. Who’s going to argue with you about it?”
Tom frowned at the slang term for the sheriff’s second in command. “I might be executive deputy, but I still can’t put you on the case,” he insisted. “It’s personal. You couldn’t be objective.”
“Bullshit,” Joe shot back. “I know I’ve been through a hell of a lot, Tom, but I need you to trust me. So pull strings, kiss asses—whatever you have to do in order to make this happen. I’m not letting something happen to Sadie because of red tape.”
“I can’t assign you, Joe,” Tom reiterated, holding up his hand, halting the furious protest that immediately rose to Joe’s lips. “But I can’t control what you do on your own time either—like look over the case file. And if you offer up any suggestions based on your own observations…”
Joe gave him a terse nod. That was good enough for him. Now, he just needed this * to make a mistake. One mistake. And then he was going down.
? ? ?
“Hey, Ms. Keaton.”
Sadie glanced up from grading quizzes on Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper and offered Sam Hittle a smile. “Hey, Sam. Did you forget something?”
The tall, powerfully built senior grunted. “Left my book.” He held up his bulky Norton Anthology. “Again.”
Sadie gave him an amused grin and folded her hands on her desk. “This is becoming a habit. Something tells me you’re forgetting it on purpose. Not subconsciously trying to avoid the unit on women’s literature, are you, Sam?”
“Of course not, Ms. Keaton,” he drawled with a hint of sarcasm, giving her a disarming smile that brought dimples to his cheeks, a smile that was no doubt the reason for the throngs of high school girls that flocked to every single one of his football practices to sigh and giggle over the handsome boy.
When she gave him a knowing look, the impudent cad winked at her and brandished the anthology like a trophy before pivoting and jogging toward the door. But he came to an abrupt halt at the doorway when he found it blocked.
“Sorry, dude,” Sam said in a rush, holding up his free hand.
Sadie struggled to stifle the gasp of surprise—and desire—that escaped her when she saw Joe standing in the doorway, dressed in his Class A’s and looking hot as hell. She’d never thought of herself as a holster sniffer—the term the deputies used to refer to the law enforcement groupies who threw themselves at anything and everything with a badge—but she had to admit, raw masculinity and fierce authority looked seriously freaking good on Joe.
“Dude?” Joe repeated, giving Sam a stern look. “That’s ‘Deputy Dawson’ or ‘sir’ to you, son.”
Sam cast a glance over his shoulder at Sadie. “Oh, hey—is this the guy?”
She flushed for the second time that day when Joe sent her a questioning glance. Oh, good. More humiliation. Because she hadn’t been tormenting herself with memories of their kiss and his subsequent backpedaling all day or anything…
“You’ve heard about me?” Joe asked, not moving his gaze away from her face.
“Oh, yeah,” Sam told him, ever helpful. “When you were on deployment, we did a big care package project for honor society. And thank-you letters at Thanksgiving and stuff. It was pretty cool. Thanks for your service, man—uh, I mean, sir.”
Joe’s brows lifted slightly. Then he finally turned his attention to Sam and shook his extended hand, giving him a terse nod. An awkward silence fell in the room for a few seconds before Sam jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Well, I guess I better get to practice before coach kicks my ass.”
Sadie gave him a disapproving look. “Language, Sam.”
He just grinned and slipped through the doorway when Joe took a step inside.
“You told your students about me?” Joe asked as soon as Sam was gone.
Sadie busied herself with her papers, gathering everything together now that her ride was here—and to keep from having to look at him too long for fear of breaking out into spontaneous drooling. “Of course,” she said with a shrug. “I thought it would be great for the students to support our troops as part of their service projects.”
Joe’s smug grin grew. “There are plenty of servicemen and -women in the county you could’ve mentioned.”
Yeah, but I wasn’t in love with any of them…
“It helps if they can make a personal connection,” she evaded. “Several of the students knew someone deployed, but most didn’t. I gave them a name and a face, a real person, to make the project more meaningful.”
He nodded, strolling toward her, a hint of his grin still tugging at the corners of his full mouth, making her wonder what he was thinking, for he was clearly preoccupied as he visually inspected the room, taking in her surroundings with his scrutinizing gaze.
“So,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, “how’s your shift going?”
He grunted. “I haven’t even had so much as a traffic violation. I’m sure Tom thought he was doing me a favor by putting me in a slow area, but it was boring as hell. On the upside, it gave me time to go over your file.”