“Crap.” She gasped, suddenly realizing the implications. “That shot-up vehicle in the lot was yours?”
Trey nodded sadly. “Yup. Diego swore he didn’t pick my vehicle to hide behind on purpose, but I think he’s being less than honest since he’s been hounding me forever to get a new truck. Regardless, he did, and it was totally destroyed. Every window was broken, all the tires were flat, and the engine block got turned into swiss cheese. My insurance payoff barely covered the cost of towing it to the junkyard. But on the bright side, it finally got me off my butt and into a vehicle made in this century.”
Samantha couldn’t help laughing. How anyone could find a silver lining in having their car shot up was beyond her, but the fact that Trey could was another indication of how amazing he was. Even if he failed to mention at least one of those men who’d attacked Diego Martinez back in June had somehow ended up with their throats torn out by some kind of claws.
“Since you’ve eaten here before, what do you recommend?” she asked, turning her attention to the menu.
“You can’t go wrong with anything they serve. It’s all basic comfort food that tastes like it’s homemade,” he said with a smile Samantha decided she was becoming dangerously addicted to. “We definitely have to get the cheddar fries to start with because it would be criminal not to. After that, I usually go for one of their cheeseburgers, but their chicken strips and chili dogs are good, too. Sometimes I can’t decide, so I end up just getting all three.”
Samantha stared at him, sure he was kidding. But from the sincere expression on his face, it seemed he wasn’t. “Mind giving me your secret? If I ate that much, I would be in serious trouble.”
The smile on his face slipped for a second as he glanced down at the menu in his hands. “I’ve always had a fast metabolism.”
Trey might have been wearing an untucked button-down, but Samantha had seen him in his tight uniform T-shirt more than once, so she had a pretty good idea of the kind of shape he was in, and it sure as hell had nothing to do with a fast metabolism. “Okay. I’ll share some of your cheddar fries, but I think I’ll limit myself to one entrée.”
When their server came over to take their order, Samantha got the classic burger with cheese and a side of guacamole along with an iced tea. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as Trey ordered the chili cheddar burger with double beef patties and a full-sized bowl of chili on the side. And if that wasn’t enough, he also got a large order of cheddar fries with a double serving of bacon.
“Fast metabolism, huh?” she teased after the server left.
He shrugged, his gaze locked on hers, the warmth in his eyes enough to make it feel like someone had turned up the temperature. “I’m lucky that way, I guess.”
Resisting the urge to fan herself with her hand, she picked up the iced tea the server brought and took a sip. “How’d you find this place? I’ve driven past it at least a dozen times and never seen it.”
Trey sipped his beer before answering. “SWAT got called out to a barricaded suspect near here a few years ago. We ended up spending over twelve hours waiting for our negotiator to talk the guy out of the house and this was the first restaurant we saw after packing up. We all fell in love with the burgers—and the prices. We stop by to eat anytime there’s a call in this part of town.”
She pictured all of those big cops in here, eating their weight in burgers and hot dogs. “I get the feeling you and your teammates spend a lot of time together outside of work.”
His mouth edged up. “Yeah. Our team is like a big family. We get together at least once or twice a week in addition to the weekends. And even when we’re not getting together as a pack, smaller groups of us hang out together all the time.”
Samantha stared at him, wondering if she’d heard right. She opened her mouth to ask but was interrupted by the server showing up with a ridiculous plate of fries buried in melted cheese and crumbled bacon. Her mouth watered at the sight and she eagerly reached for a fry, moaning as the combination of cheddar, fried potato, and crispy bacon hit her tongue.
She was helping herself to another when she remembered what she’d been going to say before. “When you were talking about your teammates, you called them a pack.”
Trey paused, a handful of cheesy fries halfway to his mouth. “I did?” he asked, the words coming out light and casual.
She nodded. “You did.”
“It’s just a nickname we have for the team.” He shoved the fries in his mouth, then wiped his hands on his napkin before undoing a few buttons on his shirt and tugging it to the side to reveal a tattoo of a wolf head on one side of his muscular chest. As far tattoos went, it was amazing. And as far as chests went, it was spectacular. “We all have this same tattoo, so we call ourselves a pack. Goofy, I know.”
Samantha laughed, telling herself that made complete sense. But if that was the case, why did she still think it was total BS?
They ate in comfortable silence for a while before curiosity got the better of her. She was tempted to dig a little
