Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Fine, I’ll be fuckin’ nicer to ya.”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
He pointed at me. “Now, was that necessary?”
I studied his face.
“Well?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Okay.” He crowded me a bit more even as he noticed my regard. “Can I ask for a favor?”
I nodded.
“Could you, maybe, not be so sensitive where I’m concerned?”
“Explain.”
“Like, could you not take everything I say badly? Maybe think better of me?”
“In what way?”
“Instead of assuming, Cord thinks I’m an idiot, perhaps go with Cord’s just pointing out that, as a policeman, he doesn’t actually need a cover and that was all he meant by that.”
It was true, I did jump on everything he said, and my first thought was that he was thinking I was stupid.
“A lot of times, I don’t think before I say stuff,” he explained. “Like when you asked me about my cover. I could’ve just answered without being a prick.”
I grunted.
“But in my defense, as an inspector, I do a lot of people’s thinking for them and have to make leaps of logic when they leave stuff out, whether purposely or by accident.”
“Okay.”
“And because of that, sometimes I miss playfulness or teasing or other stuff and default to my just-the-facts-ma’am state because it’s my core programming.”
I smiled over that, and his grin, in response, made my stomach flutter.
“So try not to just turn away, but instead think, he’s not trying to be a prick, he just missed the funny there or the real question. I mean, you do talk kinda fast.”
I laughed softly and leaned sideways into him, bumping him with my shoulder. “Okay.”
“Yeah? Okay?”
I nodded.
“Good,” he said with a long sigh.
It was strange. We never talked like this. We never cleared the air. It was normally a minefield between us of me being bitter and him being mad. So much was usually left unsaid, but now, suddenly, he wasn’t letting that happen. It was nice. Better than that, actually. It was amazing.
I stared out the window as we took off, and after that I was quiet, watching the flight attendants bustle around the cabin. After a while, I pulled out my laptop and prepared to work once we were given permission.
Cord interrupted me getting started. “I wanna talk about Dimah.”
“What?”
“You said he’s such a great partner, but he doesn’t seem worried about you.”
“Oh no, he’s plenty worried. Believe me.”
“How so?”
“For starters, he didn’t like the idea of me traveling to Vermont alone. At all. He wanted to send someone with me, but when I explained about being, technically, in protective custody, he stopped worrying.”
“So what was he gonna do, send some goons with you?”
“I can assure you we have no goons on our payroll,” I replied haughtily.
“You’re such a wiseass.”
“One does what one can, Inspector,” I said, mostly playfully but still a bit peeved over him thinking bad things about Dimah. I thought that would be it, but he jabbed me gently with his elbow. “What are you—Cord?”
The smirk I was getting made my breath catch. So much arrogance and sexiness at the same time, and the way he was looking at me was really hot.
“Trace…just unclench already. I’m sorry I opened my mouth about Dimah. You’re fiercely loyal, and I forget that sometimes.”
“I—thank you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I can be nice to you.”
I nodded, dazed with the change in the man, his willingness to call a cease-fire, earlier and now.
He bumped me with his knee and then didn’t move it away after.
“Maybe we can both try harder,” I offered.
“I would love that,” he husked, his smile kind and unguarded.
Cord got on his laptop then, and after a moment I was able to tear my attention away from him so that we could both do some work. Breckin turned around in his seat and asked if he could switch places with Cord so he could talk to me, but I told him we both had too much to do.
“Tracy, I—”
“Talk to Celia,” I instructed him. “You guys don’t want to mess up.”
“I—”
“And what are you going to do about a ring? The devil’s in the details.”
He cleared his throat as he looked over the top of the seat at me. “My mother told me I could have my grandmother’s ring when I got married. Assuming the offer still stands, I just have to ask her to get it from the safe-deposit box for me.”
And it was a girl ring already, so win-win. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
“It’s supposed to be yours.”
I shook my head. “This way it can just slide right on Celia’s finger.”
He glared at me. “We’re going to talk at my folks’ house, Trace.”
“Sure,” I agreed because fighting on a plane was so classy.
Cord said nothing about the exchange, but he gently gripped my upper thigh. His touch was comforting, and I appreciated the gesture.
Drinks came for the second time, and then the meal was served. It didn’t look appealing, but I watched Cord wolf down what appeared to be lasagna.