“Come over for dinner tomorrow?” He asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

I nodded. “Yeah. What time do you want me to be there?”

“Six. Reagan Rose Alvarez gets cranky if we wait until seven. So make sure you’re there early,” he smiled. “I have to work tomorrow, but I’ll be there in time to bring dinner home.”

“Do you want me to make dinner and bring it?” I asked.

I liked cooking.

In fact, I loved it.

I wasn’t a big out to eat type of person.

I didn’t see the point. Especially when home cooked meals were not only healthier, but also yummier.

“You cook?” He asked in awe.

I nodded. “Yeah, doesn’t everybody?”

“Sure,” he said slowly. “Not everybody cooks well, though. Which one are you?”

I winked. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see. Is there anything your Reagan won’t eat?”

He shook his head.

“’Allergic’,” he said making air quotes. “To vegetables.”

I laughed. “Aren’t all kids allergic to those?”

He shrugged. “I’m not a big fan of cauliflower and onions, but as long as it’s hidden in something good, I won’t have a problem stomaching it.”

I gave him a thumbs up and started out of my bedroom and to the kitchen.

“I made these muffins this morning,” I said gathering them up. “You can have them and tell me what you think,” I said, stuffing them into a Ziplock bag and tossing them to him.

He caught them out of the air and tucked them underneath his arm before cornering me against the counter.

“See you tomorrow,” he said against my lips.

I kissed him hard, and then pulled back. “Tomorrow.”

Chapter 8

I may not voice my opinion often, but when I do you need to shut your filthy, donkey humping mouth and listen to what I have to say.

-Word of advice

Bennett

“What are you eating?” Michael asked as he dropped down into the car next to me.

“Muffins,” I said around a large bite, bits and pieces of the sweetest, most awesome and tastiest thing that had ever graced my taste buds, flying out.

“Let me have one,” he said holding out his hand.

I reached into my pack and offered him my second to last one.

I’d had to ration myself last night so I could eat them for breakfast this morning…and man was it hard.

He took it, peeled the paper off of it, and sank his teeth into it.

“Oh, my God,” he said in awe. “What the fuck is this and where can I get more?”

His eyes moved to the last muffin in the bag, and I held it out with a sigh.

It was probably a good thing that he came when he did, or I would’ve consumed all fourteen of those bastards.

Now I only had twelve to work off at the gym later.

“Lennox made them,” I informed him as I popped the last bite into my mouth and wiped the crumbs from my uniformed shirt. “She’s making me dinner tonight, too. If it’s anything like these muffins, I’ll be whisking her off to Vegas this weekend and coming back with a wife who’ll cook for me every night of the week and serve me breakfast in bed.”

He snorted. “Let me know how that goes. I met that girl, and I highly doubt she’d allow you to do anything that had to do with Vegas. Not to mention her parents are loaded, and probably have a million and a half guests they’d like to invite to your wedding.”

I raised my brow at him.

“How do you know they’re loaded?” I asked.

He pointed to the windshield, and I turned to survey the area.

“Look at that billboard,” he ordered.

I skipped past the one that let me know Cracker Barrel was at Exit 596, and went to the next one that was a little further away.

“Brock Jane, M.D,” I read. “So what?”

“That’s your girl’s daddy. He’s the head trauma surgeon at Good Shepherd and his wife is a pediatric surgeon. Let’s just say that they’re loaded, if you catch my drift,” Michael said, reaching into the bag for the second muffin.

I’d known that she was well off, but I guess I didn’t realize how well off.

“How do you know who they are?” I asked.

“My father’s a doctor at the hospital, too. My mom’s a nurse. My aunt’s a nurse. My sister’s a nurse. Literally, I know everybody at that hospital,” he told me. “Not to mention that my ex works there, too.”

That was the most I’d heard about Michael’s life than the entirety of the time I’d known him.

Michael was a really good friend, and a great man. He was secretive, though. At least when it came to his personal life.

He caught the look I must’ve had trouble concealing, and started to laugh.

“What?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just funny to see all of y’all’s eyes bug when y’all hear something personal about me. I never meant to keep that shit a secret, but it was easier than explaining to everybody and their brother why I was working for the police department when I have my medical degree. Something I am sure you’ll find out eventually since you’re dating the princess of the hospital.”

I blinked.

“You have your medical degree?” I asked in surprise.

He nodded. “Yeah. I do. And I only did it because my dad made me feel like a pile of shit for not following in his footsteps. The first patient that died I quit. Couldn’t take that shit anymore, and I quit. Joined the army. Special Forces from there. And now I’m here.”

I nodded. “I always just thought you had your paramedic license. I never knew you had anything quite so extravagant. Should we start calling you Doc?”

He gave me a look that said millions, and I chose that moment to shut up.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

He sighed. “My cruiser’s down. Somebody backed into me, tore the front fender clean off. The chief told me to get in the car with you, so I did.”

I nodded.

We usually only had one officer to a car, but we only had so many cars, and if a car did go down, we didn’t have any replacements. So, every once in a while, we had to double up or they were sent home.

“I was about to head to the school zone,” I said, starting up the car.

“Sounds good,” Michael said, buckling his seatbelt.

We made it to the school zone in time to catch our first speeder, a young girl in her early twenties.

She was going forty in a twenty, and had an attitude the size of Alaska.

“You want this one?” I asked in all hopefulness.

He snorted. “I’ll pass. I’ll get the next one.”

I rolled my eyes.

Michael hated pulling over women, because it was inevitable that they’d try to cry their way out of it, and he wasn’t a fan of anybody, let alone a manipulative woman, trying to get out of something she’d been doing wrong.

Sighing, I got out and walked to the passenger side of the car.

The young girl rolled her window down, and I said, “License, registration, and insurance.”

The young girl flipped her hair, and smiled, lifting her chest slightly.

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Her shirt was significantly shorter around her breasts than it had been when I pulled her over.

“I’m sorry, officer, why are you pulling me over?” She asked softly, batting her baby blues at me.

“License, registration, and insurance,” I repeated.

She pouted and reached into her glove box, then withdrew her insurance and registration before looking through her purse that was fifty times the size of a normal one.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s here somewhere,” she said sweetly.

I ignored the fact that she was pulling things out of her purse that most women didn’t let leave the darkened drawer of their nightstand, let alone the front seat of their car.

She giggled, and I rolled my eyes, taking a step back and started walking to my car.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked with a smile on his face.

“She’s pulling out fucking sex toys from her purse, and she conveniently can’t find her wallet,” I growled.