The Do-Over (The Rooftop Crew #5) - Piper Rayne Page 0,37
are sometimes hours with nothing for us to do.
“No. It’s a coincidence.”
“You like her?”
“Who?”
She rolls her eyes. “The waitress.”
“Kamea,” I correct because it annoys me when Patrice refers to her as the waitress. It brings up that night, and although Kamea seems good with my apology, it’s like a splinter I can’t get out from under my skin.
“Yes, Kamea. Do you like her?”
We’re interrupted by the waiter taking our order. Patrice gets the grilled chicken salad, and I get a burger with fries. Normally I eat leaner, but having Kamea in the house, I’ve been forced to try hummus and tofu this week. Time to reclaim my man card.
Once the waiter is gone, Patrice sips her water. “So we’re starting fertility treatments. I’ll apologize in advance if I’m a bear to deal with these coming weeks.”
I’m thankful she’s moved on to a new topic. “That’s great.”
“I might need you to give me a shot.”
I choke on my drink. “What? No.”
“Come on. I hate needles, and I can’t have Nate wake up just to come give it to me.”
“We can drive you to him,” I say.
She tilts her head and gives me the same look my mom did when she didn’t much care for what I said. “Seriously?”
“I’m a cop, not a doctor,” I say, pulling out my cell phone to see if I missed anything. Although most of my friends are asleep. If I had a real girlfriend, I wonder if they’d send me a sexy message or just a quick good night. Would my shift drag on longer, waiting to return to them?
“You’re kind of a romantic, huh?” Patrice interrupts my wandering mind.
Thank God because I don’t need to be thinking about that.
“No.” I tuck my phone away. “You’ve known me for three years. Have I given you the impression that I’m a romantic?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I saw you during your worst heartbreak. You want more than some chick in the bathroom stall, don’t you?”
I busy myself making a tower out of the creamers.
She laughs. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“If this is your way to sweet-talk me into giving you the shot, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
She flicks my tower, and it crumbles. “Come on. Talk to me. Use me.”
“Use you?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. Is that all you think about now, sex?”
“I’m not the one trying to have a baby.”
“Joke’s on you because we’re on a ‘schedule.’” She puts schedule in air quotes. “Saving all that sperm for ovulation time.”
I put my fingers in my ears and shake my head. She throws a creamer at me and it bounces off my forehead.
I sigh. “I do want a wife and kids. I’m not going to say I don’t. But I don’t want to marry the wrong woman, and if she had stuck around longer, maybe that could have happened with Leilani.”
She leans in over the table. “You proposed to her?”
“No. Thank fuck I didn’t.”
“Yeah, that would’ve been a mistake. You’d be married to a felon right now and you could kiss that detective job bye-bye.” She kisses her fingers and waves them.
“She’s not a felon.”
“She’s about to be if she doesn’t show up for her court date.”
Luckily, I get a reprieve when our food arrives. She stares at her salad then back at my meal.
“No way,” I say.
“Half? Half a salad would do you good.”
I look at my stomach, thinking about the whole Jolie/Santa thing. “No.”
“Knox, I love you. How about I promise to not give you grief tomorrow night at the retirement party? I won’t even bug the waitress.”
“I’ll split it with you if you stop calling her the waitress.”
She purses her lips and thinks about it for a moment. How could she not just agree? I pick up the burger take a big bite of it.
Her eyes narrow. “Fine.”
“Say her name,” I say.
“Kamea.” She holds out her plate for me to put half the burger on it.
“Good girl.” I cut the burger in half and place it on the plate, and she steals half the fries.
“Fries weren’t part of the deal,” I say.
She chomps down on one, not caring.
After we finish our meals, she wipes her mouth and pushes away her plate as though she ate a seven-course meal. “I was scared for a minute there.”
“About what?”
“I thought for sure you’d try to duck out of the shots as a trade for the burger.”
We pay the bill and get up from the table. “I’m still not giving you a shot.”