Chapter 13 #4
I winced at his cussing, hating that he was doing it around Mikey. Sure, I slipped up every now and then, but I tried to rein it in.
“Not the best season you guys had,” the fucker said.
I quirked my brow, wishing I was surprised he was that sort of fan who’d say such shit to my face. Assuming he was a fan, of course.
“Some good games. Just hope that coach of yours makes a few changes next season. Heard he’s after Blake Henderson in the draft.”
“That right?” Rumors were always entertaining and usually bullshit.
“It would be good to get some more Minnesota blood on the team. Better than some of the shit overseas assholes who think they can come in and take over.”
I ground my teeth together. If he started talking shit about immigrants next, I didn’t think I’d be able to walk away without saying anything.
“Nolan, honey, do you mind taking Millie? She’s getting a little heavy,” Kelsey asked quietly, preventing me from having to respond to Nolan.
A flash of annoyance appeared on Nolan’s face as he looked at his wife. It disappeared when he returned his focus to me and rolled his eyes. “Fucking women.” Stepping to Kelsey’s side, he took Millie from her, surprisingly gently.
As he got about putting Millie in her car seat, Kelsey turned to me. A tentative smile was sent my way before she said, “Nice meeting you, Cassius.”
“Yeah, you too. I’ll let you know about a playdate.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
Her paling face was the first indicator. Her wide, worried eyes was the second.
The third was Nolan snapping his attention in our direction, an expression on his face I couldn’t quite read.
And then a second vehicle pulled up. The markings I recognized. The man stepping out with a frown I wasn’t used to seeing on his handsome face, my best friend.
Eyes just for me, Dylan asked, “Everything okay here?”
Before I could answer, Nolan slammed the pickup’s door, startling Mikey in my arms. Immediately after, the sound of Millie’s cries breached the closed door.
“Nolan, you’ve—”
A fierce look from her husband stopped Kelsey in her tracks as she reached for the door.
“Get in the damn truck.”
When she hesitated at Nolan’s order, my gut clenched, and I took a step forward. Before I could move again, Dylan was before me, hands on his belt, his back to me as I looked on. With Nolan now looking his way, I expected Dylan eyeballed him right back.
“Kelsey, you okay?”
While Dylan’s tone was soft, tension all but vibrated from him. With the speck of distance between us, I felt the heat, felt his carefully controlled frustration.
Apparently, he knew exactly who Kelsey and Nolan were.
“Kelsey,” Dylan said again when she didn’t respond.
“Just get in the fucking truck, Kelsey.” Nolan’s voice was low, holding a bite that sent alarm spiraling through me.
Who the fuck was this asshat?
Without a backward glance, Kelsey fumbled her way into the seat of the pickup truck.
While I didn’t hear Dylan’s sigh, I saw how his shoulders sagged.
“Nolan, I don’t want to be called out to any disturbances at your place tonight.”
Jesus.
The stark reality of what kind of man Nolan was made my gut clench. How the hell did Dylan do this? Deal with this kind of shit day in, day out?
“Why don’t you keep your nose out of my business, Sergeant.” The word was a sneer.
Not liking his tone one bit, I shifted in frustration behind Dylan. Sure, I’d keep my mouth shut. That didn’t mean I fucking liked this situation one bit.
At my movement, Nolan’s gaze shifted to mine. The questioning glance disappeared in the time it took for me to blink and for Dylan’s shoulders to tense.
“Jesus fucking Christ. You?” Venom sliced through the words Nolan spat at me. He looked me up and down, disgust morphing his features. “Fucking knew there was a reason the Eagles went to shit. The number of butt f—”
“Don’t.”
The ice in that one word should have chilled me to the bone, but fuck if Dylan in protective cop mode wasn’t ridiculously sexy. Damn, maybe it was protective husband mode that was getting my engine revved.
Either way, my dick perked up, taking me by surprise. It was so not the moment for this.
Not only was I sure I had shit on the back of my tee, but Mikey was unwell. Then there was the dickwad before us.
A sly smile filled with malice slashed across Nolan’s face. “Sure thing, Sergeant.” He turned his back on us, got in his truck, slammed the door shut, and sped away with a squeal of tires.
A shaky breath rushed out of me, and I brushed a kiss on the top of Mikey’s head.
Turning on his heel, Dylan took the two of us in. His worried gaze settled on Mikey, then on me. “You okay?” Concern tightened his voice. He stepped closer, placing his hand on Mikey’s back.
At the touch, Mikey shifted and peered over at his dad.
I expected him to lunge out of my hold to get into the safety of Dylan’s arms. That he didn’t, instead snuggling further into my chest, caught my breath.
“We’re fine. A little thrown by whatever that was,” I admitted. “I need to get this guy back to the house and washed up. Get some meds into him.”
“What happened? You said he wasn’t well?” Dylan stroked Mikey’s back.
I lifted the carrier, complete with the bag. Wrinkling my nose, I explained the explosion, still proud that I managed to rein in my desire to gag.
“Damn. Are you okay?”
The fluttering in my chest that I usually ignored when Dylan proved he knew me so well and cared for me took a life of its own. “Yeah.” I huffed out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “Will be even better when we’ve both showered, and I’m telling you right now, this bag is going in the trash.”
No way would I be washing the clothes. I didn’t want to look at them again.
I had half a mind to throw out the carrier too. If I ordered the exact same one, I could probably get away with it.
“How about I meet you at home, and I’ll take care of Mikey while you focus on getting cleaned up?”
Was it wrong that I wanted to kiss the hell out of him for offering?
The truth was, between the disaster of getting Mikey changed and my worry for his health, my nerves had already been fried.
Add in the crazy confrontation with the thug Nolan, how unsettled I felt with how he treated his wife, and his clear opinion of Dylan, and I was grateful for any help I could get.
“Aren’t you on shift?”
“Let’s call it my lunch break.” A warm smile tilted his lips.
“You have lunch breaks? Since when?” Sure, I took on a teasing tone, but with such a small department, I knew lunchtimes at the station weren’t a real thing.
Not that our town was a hive of activity, but there was a sizable area in our county needing to be covered, and Dylan was as much about the preventative side of policing as he was about dealing with the aftermath of callouts.
“I’ve got my radio. We’ll be fine.” He glanced at his son. “You okay to walk since I don’t have his seat?”
“Of course.”
Dylan took the carrier off me, his nose twitching as, between the movement and the breeze, the scent of his son’s accident lifted.
“I’ll put this in the trunk. See you in a few.”
With a smile, I held Mikey closely, dotting another kiss to his head. He’d been worryingly quiet through the whole exchange. But nothing some medicine, a bath, and sleep couldn’t cure. At least, that’s what my folks had always told me, and they’d never given me a reason to doubt them.