Everyone’s type, right? This doesn’t have to turn into a big thing.
I perch on the edge of the mattress and stare at my phone. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I’m a very rational person normally. Steady as they go, that’s me.
I can’t believe I hung up on him twice.
I press the button to return his call, my hand not entirely steady. As soon as he answers, I blurt, “Hi, Eli, sorry I accidentally hung up on you.” Twice.
“Insurance and registration,” he orders.
“Uh, just a moment.” In my rush to get my purse from the floor, I bang my hand so hard on the nightstand that the pain makes my other hand drop the phone on the floor. Again. I slap a hand over my eyes, mortified that I can’t get through a simple conversation with the man. I drop to the floor and scoop the phone up. At least it landed on the rug both times.
I take a deep breath before attempting conversation. “Sorry.” That’s all I can manage to get out.
“Are you okay?”
I’m not so sure anymore.
2
“Just tired,” I lie. I’m completely wired, buzzing with adrenaline.
“Okay, I only need the insurance. I’m so used to saying insurance and registration from pulling people over, it just popped out. Actually, I say license and registration. Never mind.”
I laugh, and it comes out breathy. “Sorry about our little fender bender.”
His voice turns stern. “More like a collision. My car is brand new. It’ll never be the same.”
I nearly say a ding to his car was bound to happen sooner or later but refrain. Maybe Eli never gets in fender benders. It’s not my first. “I really am sorry. It certainly wasn’t intentional.” I flip through my wallet and realize I don’t have the card. “My insurance card is in my car. I’ll take a picture of it and send it to you.”
Silence.
“Eli?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Spaced for a minute there. I should have filed a police report on the accident, but it’s not too late to file. I can do it tomorrow.”
“But it was so minor.”
“It’s easier to have it for the insurance claim. If you don’t mind, I’ll stop by tomorrow morning to take pictures of your car and file the report. I’m on duty in the afternoon.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Filing your own police report?”
“Okay, then I’ll ask Chief Daniels to stop by tomorrow morning. He’s on duty at eight a.m. Work for you?”
My bakery doesn’t open until nine, but I’m up early to bake. “Sure.”
“Good. Hopefully we can get this taken care of quickly. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
I’m unexpectedly disappointed after all my ridiculous nervousness. I like the sound of his voice, the assurance in it. This is a man confident of his place in the world. “How do you like being a cop?”
“It’s good. I like knowing I’m helping the community. It’s not all traffic tickets and responding to wildlife calls.” His voice sounds warmer now.
I settle back to sit in bed, leaning on my pillow against the headboard. “Wildlife calls?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, someone will call the station for suspicious noise around their property, afraid it’s a robber. It’s usually a raccoon or skunk. Probably deer too, based on how many calls I’ve responded to where there’s no sign of a problem at all. The deer just wander off.”
“So you never wanted to move away from Summerdale, where there could be more exciting crimes to investigate?”
“Summerdale is where it’s at. Isn’t that why you moved back home to open a bakery?”
“It was serendipity.”
“Say what?”
“I was unhappy at work, and I told Sydney I wanted to open a bakery. I love baking, and it just seemed so fulfilling to bring warm tasty goodness to people. She told me Rainbow was retiring and closing the café. Serendipity. Just when I was ready to move on to the next thing, there it was. I didn’t think too hard about it, just made the leap.”
“Any regrets?”
“I miss the social scene in Brooklyn.” Single guys are at a much higher density there.
“We have a social scene here too. You just have to look for it.”
“Like what?”
“Barbecues, hanging by the lake, the bar at The Horseman Inn, you might’ve heard about it.”
I laugh. I spend tons of time there because Sydney owns it. It’s the main hangout for me, Sydney, Audrey, and Kayla (she’s Sydney’s soon-to-be sister-in-law). Harper too when she’s in town.
He continues. “Or were you referring to the hookup scene? I’ll admit there’s not much of that here.”
I flush hot. It’s weird to hear Eli talking about hookups. He’s Eli. “Yeah, well, you can always find that if you’re motivated enough. There’s apps, and we’re free to leave town.”
His voice takes on a husky tone. “You do that a lot? Use an app?”
My nerve endings tingle, alarming me. Just from his voice on the phone. Really?
I clear my throat. “I feel like we’ve gotten off track. I’ll send my insurance. Get in touch when you hear about the estimate.”
“Hey, no judgment. I was just curious. I never see you with anyone.”
Do not engage. End this dangerous line of conversation.
“What about you?” I blurt. “Do you use an app for hookups?”
“I’m old school. Face-to-face. I meet people all the time, friend of a friend, hanging at a bar or club.”
“You go to clubs?”
“Yes, ma’am. I like to dance, and women like a man unafraid to get out there.”
My lips part in surprise. Eli’s not the straight-laced guy I thought he was based on his profession. Of course, he was mischievous as a kid and downright bad as a teen. He used to steal cars before he finally got a clunker of his own. Sydney was afraid he was going to end up in jail. Now Eli issues orders to keep people in line. The ultimate irony. It’s a wonder Chief Daniels hired him at all.
“Where do you go to dance?” I ask.
“Different clubs in SoNo.” That’s South Norwalk in Connecticut, about a half-hour drive southeast of here. “Occasionally I’ll go to the Happy Endings bar in Clover Park, though it’s not as much of a pickup scene there.” Clover Park is also a half hour away, due east. Summerdale, New York, is near the Connecticut border.
“I didn’t know they had dancing at Happy Endings.” That’s a restaurant and bar on Main Street in Clover Park. Way back before my parents’ divorce, my family used to go there for Sunday brunch and then walk around the cute downtown just for a change of scenery. That was before everything went to hell when I was nine.
“Yeah, they expanded the bar in back to include a dance floor and billiards room. It turned out really nice.”
I love dancing but refrain from asking to join him. First off, Sydney would kill me. Second, this is the same guy who used to steal our popcorn and jump out behind a corner when we went looking for him, tossing the popcorn all over us. He wore footed pajamas. Little Eli.