Sweet as Candy - Karla Doyle Page 0,23

tattooed arms crossed over his chest and looking smug as shit. “Question is, do you understand the difference?”

Now it was Jake’s turn to sit back, as realization hit him hard and fast. “I’m fucked.”

“Been there. From day one, I couldn’t stay away from Sara, no matter how much flak she gave me.”

“Worked out for you two.”

“That it did.” Curtis took another swig of beer. “So I’ll ask you again—what are you going to do? Candace’s job, her kid, the fact that she didn’t tell you about her daughter upfront. Is it more than you’re prepared to deal with, or is she worth putting in some extra effort?”

“She’s worth it. But I have no experience relating to small kids. Especially little girls.”

“Binge-watch a bunch of princess movies.” Curtis’s smirk grew. “If you haven’t seen them all already.”

“Asshole,” he said, grinning along with his buddy. The suggestion had merit though. Familiarizing himself with the current kid trends couldn’t hurt. He snapped his fingers as the solution struck. “I’ll ask my sister. Megan teaches kindergarten, she’ll know what little girls are interested in these days.”

“Good call,” Curtis said. “Just don’t overthink it. Apologize your ass off for not showing up this morning and ask for another opportunity. If you get one, follow Candace’s lead and go from there.”

“I’ll do that.” Barring another chance encounter, Jake wouldn’t see her until next week, at Lucky’s. Minimum thirty-eight hours away, possibly a hell of a lot more, depending how his Monday shift went. The price he had to pay for screwing up this morning, but too damn long to wait.

Candace

The front door’s bell alerted everyone present to an incoming customer. It was Ginger’s panicked, “Oh, shit,” and the appearance of a handsome man in dark blue that brought them all to their feet.

Oh, shit, indeed. Thank God Candace was in the lounge right now, not busy with a customer. High heels clicking across the floor, she hustled to the arched entryway where Jake stood—wearing his police uniform.

“Come with me,” she said, grabbing his arm. “You can tell me what the hell this is about once we’re in a private room.”

“Can’t. Not while I’m on duty.”

“Because you might get fired?” At his nod, she yanked harder on his arm, fruitlessly, of course. “Same goes for me if you continue to stand here dressed like that.”

“I need to talk to you about Saturday,” he said, clearly indifferent that his uniformed presence could cost her her livelihood.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Jake. It didn’t work out, end of story.”

“Not the end of our story.”

“We don’t have a story. We never did, and we certainly don’t now.” She gave up pulling and tried pushing instead. No use, she couldn’t budge him. “You have to go.”

“I’m not leaving until we talk.”

“For God’s sake, Candy, take him out back or something,” Paris said, from across the room. “If anybody walks through the front door and sees a cop standing there, we’re fucked. Not in a profitable way. The word of mouth will kill us.”

Candace’s feelings about Jake’s behavior on Saturday would have to take a backseat. All that mattered right now was getting Officer Campbell out of the Lucky’s reception area.

She released his arm and pointed toward the hall where the massage rooms were located. “Rear parking lot. Go.”

Unmoving, he nodded in the same direction. “Ladies first.”

“You don’t trust me to follow? I’ll be right behind you. Count on it.”

The straight line of his mouth indicated she’d struck a nerve by mimicking his words, and the promise he’d made but failed to keep. Well, boohoo. He’d earned her sarcasm.

He strode through the lounge and down the hall. The gear on his belt rustled as he walked. His biceps filled out the short sleeves of his shirt and his legs seemed even longer in the dark-blue pants than they had in his jeans. She’d never been a uniform chaser, but whoa. He personified the “hot cop” thing.

The cop portion of that label should scare her silly. Wearing that uniform, he held the power to unravel her life. Destroy it, even.

Panic should be to blame for her racing heart and the heat licking its way through her body. If not panic, anger. Not only for standing her up at the park, but for his continued disregard for her job. She ought to be focused on banishing his uniformed ass, not mentally removing the uniform from his hard, muscled body. She had let things go much too far.

“This one?” Jake asked, pushing the rear door