The Lucky in Love Collection - Lauren Blakely Page 0,97
with Perri feels like an online hookup. I know more about her from our brief encounters than someone I’d go home with from an app. I know she relies on her brother, she’s close with her family, and she values her community. I know she cares deeply about her job, and also about the people in this town. She’s sarcastic and sharp, and I’ve learned she’s creative—with her mailbox and her curlicue chalk drawings.
Most of all, I know she has a strong sense of right and wrong, along with a soft heart and a fast mouth.
“And now you’re living with her?”
“Renting a room,” I correct, like the word choice is critical.
“Be careful.”
“Why?”
Jodie taps my sternum. “The last time you lived with a woman she broke your heart.”
I wave off her concerns. “Correction—the last time I was in a relationship, the woman turned out to be a lying, cheating you-know-what.”
“And she broke your heart.”
I wince, shaking my head. “Please.”
“Derek,” she says softly. “You had feelings for Katie. You cared about her.”
“You are ruining my good mood. I’m over Katie. Completely over her.”
“I know that. I’m saying it wasn’t as simple as she was just the woman you lived with. You were in love with her.”
“Good thing I’m not in love with my housemate. And it’s a good thing it’s simply a mutually beneficial rental agreement to help out two fine citizens of Lucky Falls.”
“Okay,” she says, but her tone says she’s not sure.
“I mean it. We’re good.”
“Just be careful. You like this woman, and you tend to fall faster than you think you do.”
I scoff from here to Los Angeles. “As if that’s going to happen.” I shift gears like I’m spinning in a one-eighty on a racetrack. “I’m off.”
I scoop up Molly, snag the keys to my sister’s car, and take the little monkey to camp. When I return, I straighten up Jodie’s kitchen, give the baby five million kisses, and tell my sister I’ll see her later. I grab my helmet, hop on my bike, and head to work. Not even a crazy day where we’re called to a vehicle crash on a winding road, then a swallowing incident involving a bet about marbles, can get me all the way down. It’s like I’m a new man.
When my shift is over, I pop by the grocery store to pick up a few items, and head to my new digs, eager to see my housemate.
A small kernel of disappointment lodges in my chest when Perri’s not home. I go to the gym, and when I return home later that night, the home is quiet.
I don’t even run into her the next morning.
And that disappoints me more than it should.
But when I do see her again, her jaw drops.
14
Perri
Elias bops.
His shoulders shake, his hips shimmy, and his head bobs as he leaves the police station a few feet ahead at the end of a shift, the evening after Derek moved in.
He hums some sort of hip-hop tune, then sings, “All night long . . . I want you all night long.”
I call out to Elias, “Hey, Officer Jazzy Jeff. You auditioning for a talent show or something?”
Laughing, he turns around and waits for me as I head down the steps. “Something like that.”
“Seriously?”
He motions for me to come closer. “You’ve seen those hot-cop videos, right?”
“Sure,” I say tentatively. “I mean, it’s not like I go online hunting for them, but I’m familiar with the concept. Like that one Gainesville PD did, right?”
“Yup.” He waggles his hips, waiting for me to say something. When I’m speechless, he fills the silence. “What do you think?”
As dry as a wine-country summer, I say, “I think you should keep your day job.”
“C’mon, Keating. Admit it. I can groove.”
I pat his shoulder. “Fine, you’re a good dancer. But are you actually going to make a dancing video?”
He taps his nose. “Bingo. That’s the plan. I’m hoping it’ll impress the big man.”
“A dancing video?”
“Well, if I can get it to go viral. Will you share it for me?”
“I’m not on Facebook. Besides, I think you want others to share it. People who have lots of friends and fans online. You want to get it in front of the right audience.”
“Good point. I need to think this through more. Find some influencers, as they say.”
His phone bleats and he grabs it, answering instantly. “Hey, honey bear.” He mouths the wife, waves, and takes off.
As I walk to my car, awareness hits me square in the sternum. If he’s