speech prepared for whomever she encountered inside, when the man in blue himself walked out of the building and saved her the trouble.
She was once again struck by how capable and safe Brady looked in his uniform. Shiny shoes, dark pants, belt, gun, badge, all the way up to the full-lipped smile that spread his generous mouth the second he recognized her.
Hot cops weren’t common in Grand Rapids, but the Cove seemed to grow the men nice around here if Ant, Xavier, and Brady were anything to judge by. Before she could objectify him further, she stepped forward with the tray of coffee cups.
Might as well get this over with.
“Brady. Hi. Um, should I call you officer?”
He ambled down the steps to the sidewalk, thumbs hooked in his belt. “Do you want to call me officer?”
Her heart skipped a beat, no doubt due to the extra shot of espresso she’d already enjoyed in her Cup of Jo’s latte.
“Making a delivery?” He nodded at the drink carrier in her hand.
“I wanted to thank you, so I brought you a bunch of coffee.” She pointed at the one in the ten o’clock position on the tray and went clockwise around it as she described them. “This one is an Americano. This one is a plain, black coffee. This one is decaf, and then I panicked and ordered you what I ordered myself: a caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso, which I’m now regretting, because I can feel how fast I’m talking.”
His grin endured, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“I have cream and sugar in the car if you need them. And a stir stick, because I hate when you put in the cream, and then it sits in the middle of the coffee instead of turning it a lovely pecan color. I’m still talking, aren’t I?”
He laughed, a deep, throaty sound as warm as the sun on her shoulders. “Yeah, but I like it.”
“Coffee?” she asked, a blush warming her cheeks.
“I was referring to you talking, but I like coffee, too.” He stepped forward, pointed at a cup and asked, “Black?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” He took a sip and licked those very full lips while she stared. “It’s not necessary to pay me back, Elliott, but I appreciate the coffee. You meet Jo yet?”
“The barista’s name was Zack. I didn’t know there was an actual Jo.”
“She’s great. A staple in the Cove.” He took the tray and gestured across the street. “Want to sit in Library Park and enjoy one of these with me?”
“Um…” Did she?
“I’d hate for the caramel… What was it?”
“Caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso.”
“I’d hate for the caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso to go to waste.” He gestured for her to go ahead of him, and she did, trekking to a bench at the edge of the park facing the police station.
“I also wanted to apologize for accusing you of being a stripper,” she said as she sat down. “I hope I didn’t offend you.” Or flatter him to death, which she suspected was more likely.
“Again, I appreciate the gesture, but you don’t have to pay me back in coffee beans. I saw a woman in need and wanted to help. Comes with the job,” he said dismissively.
She suspected there’d been more to him helping than that. He seemed like a guy who was duty bound in every aspect of his life.
“Not all men are so magnanimous,” she mumbled.
Quietly, he assessed her with electric green eyes, his smile gone. He was more attractive when he was serious. “Talking about your Navy-SEAL boyfriend?”
“There is no Navy-SEAL boyfriend. Only an ex not worth mentioning.” Only now she sort of had. Dammit. She took a sip of her coffee to keep from saying more.
“Now you have my curiosity piqued. First you arrive alone in the Cove in middle of the night with a flat tire you refuse to let me help you replace—”
“But you did anyway,” she interjected.
“—then you lie to me about a boyfriend—”
“I was being cautious.”
“—and then you show up with Lou at a bar and tell me I’m a stripper.”
“I asked.”
“And now you’re trying to pay me in coffee for the tire I told you was taken care of, plus casually mention an unmentionable ex.” His jaw hardened suddenly, his eyes alert and snapping around their immediate environment. “He’s not in the Cove, is he? He didn’t follow you here?”
“No. He’s not here.”
“You’re safe?”
“Yes. Very.” More so in Brady’s presence.