Our Star-Crossed Kiss (The Rooftop Crew #4) - Piper Rayne Page 0,86
she’s had five bottles of wine. “It’s so early, what?”
Jesus. I walk out to the balcony and look at what Jax and Dylan are so interested in. Rian is on the curb, watching from outside Sweet Infusion since she does start work before the sun comes up.
“What am I missing?” Evan says, coming alongside me. “Knox is arresting someone? Isn’t that kind of his job?” Evan cops an attitude with Jax.
I put my arm around her and smile although the situation isn’t funny. I’m kind of proud of my girl’s sarcasm.
“He’s arresting Leilani,” Jax clarifies.
“Who’s that?” Evan asks.
“The girl who fucked him up in the head,” I say.
“What could’ve happened?” Blanca leans forward to get a better view.
Dylan turns her way. “Rian said she saw Knox pull his car over to the curb and was just going to go say hi when…”
He doesn’t fill in the rest because Knox must feel all our eyes on him. He looks up with a handcuffed Leilani, holding her arm and escorting her to the back of his police car.
“Do you think he had to frisk her? That had to be uncomfortable,” I remark.
Jax laughs next to me.
“Fuck, just as he was getting back to his normal self,” Dylan says.
We watch Knox put his hand on her head and lower her into the back of his squad car. He doesn’t look up again as he rounds the back of the car and climbs into the driver’s seat. We all watch him drive away.
Nothing good can come from Leilani coming back into Knox’s life.
“So should we plan a welcome back party for Leilani?”
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Knox
“How come female police officers don’t get all the googly eyes you men do?” Patrice takes her sandwich from the pick-up counter and glances to a table full of women checking me out.
I don’t have nearly the same ego as my friends, but I can’t deny that I’m a good-looking guy. I also have twenty-twenty vision and I can see all the wedding rings on those women’s fingers as they sip their coffees.
It doesn’t take police training to figure out that they’re all at this all-night sandwich shop because of the crying woman in the middle. She hasn’t glanced in my direction once.
“It’s the whole fantasy thing. They imagine me using my cuffs on them while I worship their bodies.”
We find a two-person table by the windows and sit down, quieting our radios to the bare minimum so as not to disrupt the other patrons but loud enough that we’ll hear a call come in.
“I don’t think they’re thinking anything like that when it comes to Ben,” she deadpans, her eyes portraying that look of “you’re insane.” It’s one I’ve become familiar with over the last three years she’s been my partner.
“Leave Ben out of this.”
She opens her sandwich. “Ben needs to get off desk duty and run a mile or two.”
Ben was hurt a year and a half ago and just never got off desk duty again. It’s a running joke at the station. One of many.
I straighten the paper from my sandwich and pick up half of my Rueben.
“I should have gotten the Rueben,” Patrice says, nibbling on her turkey club.
“Then get the Rueben tomorrow.” I bite into my sandwich, ignoring her stares of longing.
She lifts the top of her bun off. “Ugh, they put mayonnaise on it. Didn’t you hear me say no mayonnaise?” She moves to get up from the table.
I sigh and push my sandwich toward her.
“You’re the best partner a girl could have.” Patrice smiles wide and bites into my Rueben.
I grab the corner of the paper her sandwich is on and lift the bread, seeing no mayonnaise. She laughs then chokes on her sandwich, quickly grabbing her drink.
“That’s some insta-karma right there.” I point at her.
Switching sandwiches isn’t really a big deal. She’s my partner. She’s got my back whether we’re dealing with a busted window or a bank robbery. Not that our small town of Cliffton Heights sees a lot of bank robberies. Over the years