My eyes narrow. “I’m Deputy Cocker. My partner here is Deputy Washington. If he’d have let me drive, you wouldn’t be here.”
Laced with reluctant amusement, he grumbles, “Shut it, Cocker,”
Diana dips her head, “Nice to meet you, deputies.”
My gaze returns to the now-quiet bird. “I don’t think Momma’s gonna make it.”
Washington cuts a glance to her. “Sucks.”
Diana exclaims, “I’m fine! Why don’t you go to a vet first? You just plucked me.” She pauses and corrects herself, “I mean pucked. Wait, no, that’s not what I mean. Plinked? It doesn’t matter. I’m not hurt! That’s what I’m trying to say.”
I remind him, “A human gets first priority, Wash.”
“I know that!” He raises his voice to call back, “That’s nice of you and all, but we’re—”
“—Really! You barely knicked me. That’s the word I was looking for. It’s just a bruise. I’m not dying! She might be.”
He asks me, “What d’ya think?”
“If her leg was broken, she’d be in more pain than she seems to be. The nearest vet isn’t far. We pop in, drop off the ducks, and then jam over to the hospital.”
He flips a careful U-turn, but we hydroplane anyway. Diana grabs onto the door to stop from sliding onto six ducklings.
“Let’s hope they’re open,” Washington mutters as the car rights itself. “And let’s hope she’s not internally bleeding.”
“The duck?” I ask.
“Diana.”
She calls up, “Please stop worrying. My thigh is not internally bleeding.”
“Was that sarcasm?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m just following protocol, lady!”
We’re silent for a block before she asks, “You have a protocol for hitting people with your car? You do this often?”
Because he hates what he did and knows how much Chief is going to grill us, Washington’s eyes flash anger to the rearview.
She’s got a cute, closed-mouthed smile, wondering when it’s going to sink into his thick head that she’s fucking with him.
The yards of his shoulders relax, expression softening. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be.”
“If you can take it.” She picks up a duckling and murmurs, “We’re going to get your momma some help.” Her eyelashes flutter over as she senses I’m watching her.
Our eyes hold for a hot second, and I hear Chief’s voice telling me to keep my hands off the victim.
But Chief, I mentally argue, Diana doesn’t seem like the victim type.
CHAPTER 11
DIANA
T he vet’s office wasn’t expecting anyone today, much less an unlikely arrival such as ours. Two cops, an ailing momma mallard, her singing brood, and a wet rat...me.
A pink-haired girl behind the desk was happily absorbed in a weathered paperback novel of the mystery-genre from the bold oh-no font and implied shadow of a missing girl.
Why is it always a woman who is hurt?
The clinic’s glass doors violently opened and we caused her to drop the book with a fluttery thwack.
Her eyes went super-sized as instinct carried her away from the swivel chair to gather ducklings from me and Deputy Washington, “Wow, I…” Her now-alert gaze lands on Momma, her sense of purpose a lightning bolt more powerful than those outside.
Hot Cop relinquishes the broken bird and we all watch as they speed away, disappearing through double doors. One of my charges squeezes free and I gasp in worry. It’s too far for the little buddy to fall and I’ve got two other baby ducks I can’t drop.
Wyatt reaches out and catches it with his meaty hand. I glimpse callouses before his fingers close.
Droplets bead and blend before sliding down golden arms, finding paths in his muscles. The uniform clings to every hot inch of him, and it’s impossible not to stare.
Should I tell him I know his great-grandmother? That she’s the reason I’m seeing Eddie tonight for the first time in a year? We’ve texted back and forth for the past couple weeks and finally made a plan I’m not sure either of us is ready for.
Deputy Washington is on the other side of the clinic, lowering ducklings onto tile barely scuffed from a slow day.
“Are you sure you're okay?”
I blink back to Wyatt, hypnotized by his lips.
Am I okay?
I don’t know.
He frowns.
My tongue won’t move.
I won’t let it.
I’m certain I’ll say dumb things.
Why don’t you poke around and find out?
I haven’t peeled these off to see the bruise. Want to do it for me, have a long look?
I’d feel a lot better if you were standing closer and your mouth was on mine.
“I asked if you’re okay.”
I shrug, “Never better.”
Truth.
His partner strolls up, three ducklings roaming behind him. Trunk-like fingers drop to his black-leather belt, resting comfortably near his gun as he asks, “What now?”
Measured amusement taints the returned question, “Should we call in our location?”
I gingerly bend to place my remaining two feathered friends on the floor, and wince at the sting in my leg as I straighten up.
Did the cops see me wince?
I sneak a peek at them, lingering on one in particular while he holds a duckling in his right hand and slides his left into wet-uniform pockets, searching for his phone. The sopping fabric pulls over his ass, flesh underneath so firm there’s no jiggle.
Suddenly I’ve forgotten my own name.
He glances to me, and cocks an eyebrow, sexy eyes dancing with caught-you.
I clamp my open mouth shut and turn around, peeling sticky lycra from goosebumps.
The double doors open and we all look over to discover a white coat with wise eyes registering there are police officers in her waiting area. “Are you the people who brought in the mallard?”
I want to ask, Is there anyone else here?
But I don’t.
Her shoulders stiffen, guarded. Sizing up the ducklings, she begins, “Officers, I’m Dr. Beth. I see she’s a mother of six.”
The cool nothing-phases-me expression doesn’t cloak the hope in Wyatt’s voice. “Is that present tense?”
The vet meets his eyes, aware of how hot he is. She blinks to contain her authority and composure. “For now. I’m not sure how long she will be. I’m not a game specialist, but I’ve sedated her, cleaned and dressed her wounds. I put a brace on her wing.
