When We Fall (Take the Fall, #2)(66)

Fucking New Guy. I haven’t been the FNG for ten years, not since I first joined straight out of high school. But since I did a lateral transfer from Forrestville’s Police Department to the city of Charlotte PD’s Family Victims Unit, I’ve been called nothing else by him. All because he was hired a day before me. Other than that, we have exactly the same amount of time in.

Shooting Dwight a glare, I join them at the back of the room. Dwight already has a cold one waiting for me. “This helps.”

“Not my choice, man,” he whispers as I take the chair beside him. Our backs are against the wall and from our vantage point, we can see almost every patron.

MacAuley’s is small, locally owned, and has the best beer selection around. Best of all, not many people knew about it…until lately, and Rollins sure as shit didn’t drink here.

Until now.

“Who told him?” I ask, grabbing the mug and tipping it up.

Dwight shrugs. “He saw your text while I was in the can.”

“Dude, I’ve told you about leaving your phone around,” I mutter, switching to Spanish. Dwight understands more than he can speak, but since Rollins is barely fluent in English, I don’t worry about him getting butthurt. “Now he knows about Mac’s, we will never hear the end of it.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Dwight asks softly. “Tell him it as a date for two?”

The music kicks on over the sound system and all chances of further conversation about Rollins ceases.

Rollins grins at the waitress who hurries to our table. “What’s up, baby?”

Patricia gives him a look. Dwight and I have no problem calming Rollins’s ass down if need be, but Patricia can’t take care of herself. And to be fair, Rollins isn’t a bad guy, just an annoying-as-f*ck one.

“Ah, baby boy, who let you out of your pram?” she coos at him with an Irish accent as thick as the corned beef stew they serve. Patricia has lived in the States for twenty years, but that brogue of hers hasn’t faded at all.

I bite back a grin. “How are you tonight, my bonnie lass?”

She hits my shoulder with her hip. “Don’t be trying my patience, Hunter. I’ve not the time for you.” A flirty wink accompanies her admonishment. Then she slides a plate of homemade nachos in front of Dwight and me.

Rollins reaches for the plate, but she smacks his hand away. “Hey!” he nearly shouts before turning to us. “You saw what she—”

“Didn’t see anything.”

“Me either.”

“Thanks, Patricia.” Dwight tips up his drink to her.

With a nod, she leaves the table.

“You two have dates here often?” Rollins says, snagging a loaded nacho.

I give him a meaningful look. “We did.”

The door to the bar opens and automatically, my eyes go right to it. Tension floods my body. I don’t think that will ever go away. I always expect the person walking in to be carrying. I always think that whomever I’m talking to is lying…until they prove otherwise.

When I catch sight of a familiar face, the tension begins to ease.

“I thought this was a bar for cops,” Rollins complains.

“Shut up and eat,” I order, and he digs in. Not for the first time, I wonder if he is purposefully irritating to get something he really wants and not what it looks like he wants.

“Walker,” Dwight shouts, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Back here.”

The fire captain for Station 52, Hayden Walker is a good guy. I’ve worked with him before on ride-alongs when he wanted to ease tensions between the PD and CFD after a brutal misunderstanding that got two civilians and a cop killed…and a firefighter brought up on charges. Hayden had been brought in from down east, from some hole in the way town near Wilmington, to play nice. Apparently, as a state senator’s son, he has a gift for public relations.

“Hayden, good to see,” I say, tipping up my chin at him.

He takes a seat across from me, unconcerned with who might be behind him. I can’t fault him though. Hayden puts his life on the line, but people are usually glad to see his flashing lights. Or they are at least grateful.

“Thought I’d drop by and see if King’s was on the menu tonight,” he asks. A flash of his infamous smile makes more than a few heads turn at nearby tables. The women in here cannot keep their eyes off him. He’s got that angel-face look combined with a devil-may-care attitude—women dig that more than cuffs.

“Not up for it tonight, but thanks,” I say.

Hayden gives Dwight a meaningful look while Rollins continues to shove food in his face.

“You going for a world record?” Hayden asks.

“Al pescando y a la mujer, con los dedos ha de ser. In other words, I can’t be too careful.”

“If you were any more careful, you would…Oh, wait, you’re not,” Dwight says, then leans back in his chair. “Just come out with us.”

“Is this a setup?” I look from my partner to my friend. “You didn’t.”

“They did, which is why I wanted to come,” Rollins says around a mouthful of nacho. “Dwight leaves his phone where anyone can read it.”

Hayden rolls his eyes, then taps the table. “Are we going?”

“Maybe another time.” I stand. “Thanks for the beer and the company, but I got to see a dog about a playdate outside.”