Free Arresting Desires (Lexie Sarcone Romance Series) by Elisa Archer Page A

Holowitz. He thought he was god’s gift to crime fighting, and everyone else was an incompetent hindrance. What made this even more irritating was the fact that he didn’t hesitate to share his point of view with the rest of us.
    “So,” I threw a cautious glance around the squad room, “what have we been assigned to do this tour?”
    “Same old, same old,” Kemper responded. “Did you want to drive tonight?”
    “Not particularly.” We were stuck patrolling the neighborhood and waiting for dispatch to send us out on calls.
    Retreating to the locker room, I changed into my uniform and grabbed the thick study guide I had picked up for the detective’s exam. I still wasn’t certain if I wanted to be a detective, or even if I had what it took to investigate more serious crimes, but Michael had been a source of constant encouragement for the last couple of weeks, and it might give us more opportunities to work together.
    “Studying up?” Kemper asked as I met him beside the squad car we had been assigned.
    “It couldn’t hurt. What do you think?”
    “Why don’t you quiz me while I drive? Then we’ll trade off after our break, and I’ll quiz you while you drive.”    
    “You’re taking the exam too?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe. Let’s see how much I know before I give you a definitive answer,” he hedged.
     
    ~*~
     
    Kemper and I had stopped at the twenty-four hour Greek diner and ordered lunch. Well, it seemed like lunch. To the normal world, it would have seemed ridiculous. We both ordered submarine sandwiches and fries. As we waited for our food to be prepared, my gaze traveled to a shop across the street. It was four a.m. While it wasn’t unusual to encounter people still out and about, the two men standing around in dark clothing had sent my radar buzzing.
    “Maybe we should take a stroll while we wait for our lunch,” I suggested, nudging Kemper in the ribs and directing his eyes to the suspicious men.
    “After all that riding around, I need to stretch my legs,” he retorted. Casually, we headed across the street. Although, it was hard for two uniformed police officers to appear casual at four in the morning.
    The two men spotted us and took to leaning against the brick wall.
    “Evening,” Kemper greeted as we approached. One of the two men nodded in response. “Can I help either of you gentlemen with anything?”
    “Nah. We’re good,” the one who nodded replied.
    “Sir, would you mind showing me some identification?” Kemper asked in a polite, authoritarian tone.
    “What for?” the other guy asked. “We’re not bothering anybody.” His friend turned and gave him an angry glare, signaling he should shut up.
    “You don’t need to see our IDs. We’ve not done anything wrong,” the first guy insisted. He cast his eyes at me, staring far too long at my breasts. I was used to behavior like that when I was working undercover, but not when I was in full police uniform. “Maybe you and the little lady should get back to work and stop hassling us.”
    “Little lady?” My eyebrows went skyward. “Do you see this badge? Or were your eyes unable to make it past my tits? That’s Officer to you.” The most annoying thing about this job was the lack of respect. Having started my career in vice, I thought my barely concealed tits and ass were the reason for the lack of respect. Apparently it had more to do with lacking a dick, or maybe it was just because men could be dicks. Kemper shot me a glance, and I tried to be more professional.
    “Whatever. We’re going,” one of the men said, and they both took off down the street.
    “Crisis averted,” Kemper whispered as we went back to the diner to pick up our meals. “But do me a favor and stick a post-it on my desk so I don’t mistakenly call you ‘little lady’.”
    “Ha ha.” I gave him a withering glare, and he held up his hands, crossing his pointer fingers in an X. “I think that gesture only works on witches, not