Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick #2)(60)

“Have you ever been in a high-speed chase?” Ada asked, passing Eddie the green beans.

“Once or twice,” Eddie answered, taking beans.

Ada’s eyes got round, handing over the potatoes.

“Did anyone crash?”

“No.”

She looked disappointed then she ral ied, “Ever been in a shoot out?”

Eddie mounded potatoes on his plate, his eyes sliding to me, then back to Ada.

“Yeah.”

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of Eddie in a shoot out. He’d joked about it this morning and it never crossed my mind how dangerous his job real y was.

“Ever been shot?” Ada asked, excitedly.

I held my breath and my body tensed.

“No.”

I felt my body relax.

Thank God.

Ada’s lips pursed; denied the gory details.

“Ever shot anyone?” she asked, relentless, handing him the gravy.

the gravy.

“Yeah.”

Ada’s face brightened.

My breath stuck at the thought of Eddie shooting someone. He always seemed like a dangerous, badass guy but shooting someone took it to a new level.

I looked at him out of the corners of my eyes and could see he was being polite but didn’t want to talk about it.

Then again, who’d want to talk about shooting someone, even a bad someone, even if you were a dangerous, badass guy?

Ada opened her mouth to say something else and I interrupted her.

“Ada, honey, maybe you and Eddie can talk about shooting people after we eat.”

Her mouth snapped shut in frustration. Eddie’s hand went under the table and he ran his fingers up the side of my thigh. I guessed that was his way of saying a silent thank you.

I had to admit, I liked it.

Ada tried a different tact, “Do the police stil do those ride-alongs, you know, where they take civilians on patrol?” Eddie looked at me again, then he started to cut into his steak. “Sure,” he answered.

Ada bumped into Mom on cloud nine, then she went for the gold, “Do they take senior citizens? I’m eighty-one, but, I swear, I have the reflexes of a sixty year old.” I stopped with a fork ful of steak, potatoes and gravy halfway to my mouth, wanting to see how Eddie got out of this and not about to help him this time.

this and not about to help him this time.

“Probably not,” he replied honestly, not pausing in his eating.

He chewed and swal owed.

Ha ha! He was stymied and buying time.

“But I’l arrange for you to have a tour of the station if you want.”

Ada’s face broke into a smile.

“Do you think they would fingerprint me?” she asked.

“You know, just for the heck of it?”

“No problem.”

Ada looked like she’d died and gone to heaven. Cloud nine a distant memory, she was on cloud twelve and sitting next to God. “That would be grand,” she breathed.

Wonderful.

Now Eddie was doing favors for my friends. I’d never be able to pay him back and get him out of my life.

“Ada’s addicted to those cop shows,” Mom explained.

Eddie smiled just as the buzzer rang.

“I’l get it,” I said because Mom was transfixed watching Eddie smile.

Trixie was at the door, “Hey Jet. Sorry I’m late.” I was just relieved there was no overnight bag.

“We’ve already started eating,” I told her.

She wasn’t listening, she was walking into the dining area and beaming at Eddie.

“Eddie! Great to see you again. Hey Ada.” She sat down, poured herself some iced tea and, without further ado, started to pile food on her plate.

“Eddie’s going to arrange a tour of a police station for me,” Ada announced. “They’re gonna take my prints and everything!”

“That’s fantastic,” Trixie replied, then turned to Mom,

“Have you packed?”

I looked from one to the other as Mom nodded.

“Packed?” I asked.

Trixie looked at me.

“Yeah, your Mom’s spending the night with me.” I closed my eyes and silently asked God, Why me?

God had no reply.

The table was created for four, five was a tight fit.

Eddie’s arm slid along the back of my chair, even as he continued to eat. I looked at him and realized he was having the time of his life.

He met my gaze.

“I really don’t like you,” I whispered.

His dimple came out.

“What was that?” Mom asked.

“Nothing,” I muttered and started to shovel food into my mouth.

“Jet, this meal is wonderful,” Trixie said, digging in. Then she looked at Eddie, “Jet’s an excel ent cook.”

“The best,” Mom chimed in.

“You should taste her meatloaf. Never had meatloaf as good as Jet’s,” Ada added.

Dear Lord.

Meatloaf was meatloaf.

Yeesh.

“And she makes lemon meringue pie, from scratch, even the crust. Her crusts are light and flaky. You’ve never tasted anything so good,” Trixie said.

“Always been a good cook. She’s got the gift,” Mom put in.