Capturing the Cop

Olivia reached for a roll.

“No,” Garrett said. He set the iced-tea glass down and his own blue eyes twinkled. “No more crazy than me. I blew up my G.I. Joe dolls with firecrackers and shot cap pistols at them.”

Happiness consumed her. He’d said absolutely the perfect thing to keep her from feeling totally stupid. On other dates, if she had said something like that, the guy would have stared at her, an astonished expression on his face. She relaxed. “You seriously blew them up?”

A muscle in Garrett’s cheek twitched and he suppressed a laugh. Olivia resisted the urge to stroke the side of his face.

“I did. Seriously.” He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was just like that kid in Toy Story. If I hadn’t been a grown man when I saw that movie, it would have given me nightmares for days.”

“You were like Sid.” She’d watched the movie several times with Bethany’s children, Olivia’s niece and nephew.

“Yep,” Garrett said without apology.

“So,” Olivia teased, “tell me. What other bad things did you do?”

FROM UNDER HIS LASHES, Garrett glanced at Olivia. Did she know the effect she was having on him? That dress left way too much to the imagination, and he found himself wanting to tear the cloth off her and see what was underneath. Her skin was smooth, with a natural color that didn’t come from tanning. Her smile lit up her whole face and her lips were full and kissable.

She’d be perfect; he knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east. Long pent-up desire that was all he was experiencing, he reassured himself. Just some lust, a normal male emotion. She made him want again. And, that was dangerous. His job required complete control, both mental and physical. Even with volatile Brenda in the mix, he’d mastered both—until tonight.

Olivia folded the menu and placed it on the table. A part of him tightened as she used those sexy lips to speak. “So, come on. What other bad things did you do?”

“Not too many,” Garrett admitted. “My dad was a police officer. So was my grandfather. I always had a fear of being too deviant. They both made sure I saw the inside of a jail very early.”

“Scared straight?”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m determined to bring good to the world and fight evil, all that superhero stuff. Fighting the bad guys is my calling.” He paused as a different waitress approached. “Hey, Liz.”

“Hey, Garrett,” Liz answered. “I’m taking over for Sue. Her boy’s sick so she’s going home. Are you two ready to order?”

“I think so. Crab legs, Olivia? They’re the best in town. Or would you like something else?”

“That sounds perfect,” she said. She never had read the menu.

“Bring us both the crab-leg special,” Garrett said, handing Liz his menu.

“Coming right up,” the waitress said, as she retrieved both menus and walked away.

Garrett glanced quickly around the room. It was bad enough that Cliff, Ben and Mason were twenty-five feet away, laughing about something. Now Liz, Melanie’s resident gossip, would fill his partners in on what he and Olivia had ordered.

Olivia took a long sip of iced tea. “You seem to know her well.”

Garrett nodded. “A bunch of us often eat here after work. Liz is co-owner. Melanie’s her sister.”

“Oh. So do you live near here, too?”

“I own a two-family building just west of here. On the other side of Tower Grove Park, just past Southwest.”

“I know where that is,” Olivia said. “By Favazza’s and Cunetto’s?”

“Near there,” Garrett said at her mention of two restaurants in the Italian section of town Saint Louisans called The Hill. “I live on the second floor and rent out the first to a nice elderly lady. What about you?”

Her face clouded for a moment, as if she was embarrassed. “Ladue,” she said, “I rent an unused pool house. The residents are world travelers and aren’t home a lot, so I usually have a lot of privacy.”

“Ah,” Garrett said, although his cop-radar told him something didn’t fit. Unlike in St. Louis City, where it was common to see old carriage houses and above-the-garage apartments rented out, Ladue was ritzy and the whole affluent area was known for its huge mansions on three-acre-minimum lots. It was the type of town that would zone against renting garage apartments. Ladue residents were notorious for filing lawsuits over such things as what type of sign you could place in your yard.

But Olivia was smiling, and the things that did to his equilibrium made his cop’s suspicions about her place of residence a low priority. After all, he reminded himself, this was just one date.

Liz brought another basketful of bread, this time a different variety from the previous white rolls, and Garrett offered Olivia a piece. “Melanie’s runs you through a couple of different breads a night,” he said, answering her unanswered question. “Try this. Be sure to use some of the honey butter. It’s excellent.”

Olivia’s fingers connected with his as she took the slice. Heat instantly spread through his body—heat not caused by the warmth of the bread. He definitely reacted to this woman, and again his inner devil stood on his shoulder, whispering exactly what he wanted to do to her.

But Garrett was a gentleman. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess the bread’s still hot.”

“Yes,” Olivia agreed as she placed the bread on her plate, buttered the piece and ate a bite. As her lips closed, Garrett tried to stay composed. His only consolation was that her face was flushed, meaning she, too, felt the chemistry.

But this was to be only one date. Just one, designed to impress those guys over there. He would not take her to bed, no matter how tempted he might be.

Their crab legs arrived, and they made small talk while savoring their delicious dinner.

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