Free Taming Johnny by Kaylie Newell Page B

seatbelt, he tugged it across his chest. “I believe in safety and training. I don’t believe we were meant to have specific things happen to us, no. We make our own destiny.”
    As they pulled away, she studied the side of his face where the scar at the corner of his eye was just visible under the passing lights. If she were the sappy, romantic kind, she could very easily believe that Johnny Street managed to stay alive during all those tours in Iraq so that he could come back here and fall in love with her. It was a nice thought, comforting. But he believed he survived because he knew how to handle an assault rifle.
    They drove around the outskirts of town for the next two hours, with the only other call being a 911 hang up. They talked, but not about anything in particular. Emma didn’t ask any more questions and Johnny didn’t volunteer. By the time they pulled back up to the PD, it was midnight and the end of the lieutenant’s shift. Emma stretched and rolled her neck.
    “Tired?” he asked.
    His physical presence had been keeping her distracted for the last several hours. So much so, that she’d forgotten she was usually sawing logs by now. “A little.” She smiled. “I’m gonna run in to use the restroom. Will I see you before you leave?”
    “I’ve got some paperwork to finish. I’ll see you inside.”
    Emma walked into the PD, her sneakers tapping dully on the floor. The place was totally different in the middle of the night. Only a few officers remained on duty, most of whom were on patrol. All the lights were turned off except those in the squad room and the red ones that lit up the exit signs above the doors. It gave the building a feeling of eerie slumber.
    She hit the restroom quickly, not wanting to linger. It gave her the creeps. When she came out, the lieutenant’s light was on in his office.
    The door was open a crack and she knocked softly. “Can I come in?”
    “Affirm.”
    He was sitting at his desk, paperwork stacked neatly beside his computer as usual. He looked tired. Older somehow. She supposed that’s what work like this did to a man. He enjoyed it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t stressful.
    “Thanks for letting me ride tonight,” she said.
    Leaning back in his chair, he laced his hands behind his head. “You’re welcome. I hope it was good research for that dispatcher’s job.”
    “I never said I was going to apply for sure. Are you trying to get rid of me?”
    “Now why would I want to do that?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, looking around his office. “You’ve never taken much of an interest in me until now.”
    “Seeing a woman naked has that effect.”
    She smiled, but didn’t look at him. She was too interested in a small photograph on his bookshelf. It was new, or at least she’d never seen it there before, wedged in between a bunch of policy manuals and law books. It was of Johnny and two other men whom she didn’t recognize. Family maybe? Friends? Everyone except for Johnny was smiling at the camera, and they were all holding up freshly caught fish. They were tan, their shorts and t-shirts in stark contrast to their bronzed skin. The ocean stretched out behind them, its waves forever frozen inside the frame of the photograph. Johnny looked younger by several years.
    Emma leaned forward and squinted at the picture. He had some sort of bandage next to his right eye. Right where the scar was now.
    “See something you like?” Johnny’s voice made her jump. Without her even knowing it, he’d come up right behind her. His breath was warm against her neck.
    “When was this taken?”
    He didn’t say anything right away, and she could tell without turning that he was looking at the photo too. “Years ago.”
    “Where?”
    “The Gulf of Mexico.”
    She nodded. That would explain the tans. The expression on his face in the picture bothered her. It was like looking at a ghost.
    “Who are they?” she asked.
    “My cousins. Jake and Eli.”
    Taller than