For You
Page 23
He felt like throwing something.
But instead he dipped his own chin and hid his response just as he kicked himself for being such an enormous jackass in the bathroom the day before finally losing it about her calling him Alec and taking away the only good thing they shared anymore.
Or so he thought.
After she denied him the jaw tilt that morning she threw a minor hissy fit about him being off the case. Colt had no idea if she was doing this because she thought The Feds were insulting him or if she wanted him working the case or both. He kept hearing her saying, “He’s a good cop,” over and over in his head and he liked the sound, too f**king much, but there was no denying he did.
And there was also no denying that her reaction to the possibility that he would get hurt, not to mention the death of his dog, had been spectacularly more mammoth than the tears she’d shed over her ass**le ex-husband. They’d thought they’d need to sedate her, hell, he’d thought it too. She was completely out of control.
But she’d let him calm her. Not her Dad, or her Mom, nor had she pulled herself together on her own. Colt had done it.
Feb could lose it. She had her mother’s temper which was volatile, though quiet, but making matters worse she was also emotional, again just like her Mom. Both Feb and Jackie could descend into righteous indignation or inconsolable tears at the slightest provocation. Like Jack with Jackie, Colt had been the only one back in the day who could calm February.
And that day, he’d done it again.
And last, she wasn’t avoiding his eyes anymore or his touch. That morning, after her drama and him helping her to pull herself together, she’d stood in his arms and started a conversation about how he should get a new dog. When Warren interrupted the moment, Colt’s hands itched to wring the man’s neck. But when Colt finally let Feb go, she didn’t step away, gain distance. She stood close then met his eyes before walking away.
He had no idea what any of this meant or if it meant anything at all and it was only her way of coping during a seriously shitty situation. He’d give her her lead and he’d wait.
What he wouldn’t do was let Sully, Jack or Morrie piss all over it. If something good came of this mess, a détente between the two of them, he was going to take it and he wasn’t going to let anyone piss on it.
No f**king way.
He slid onto his stool at the end of the bar and scanned the room.
“Off duty?” Jack asked and Colt nodded.
He heard the hiss of the cap coming off the beer and the thud of the bottle landing in front of him and he forgot until then how much he missed hearing Jack ask, “Off duty?” then the subsequent hiss and thud.
It sucked why the family was back together but he couldn’t deny he was glad they were.
“Where’s Morrie?” Colt asked, watching Feb talk to a table full of kids who looked too young to be sitting in a bar.
“Shoulda come in three hours ago, you missed World War Three,” Jack’s amused answer brought Colt’s eyes to him.
“World War Three?” Colt asked the smiling Jack, not sure whether he was more surprised to see Jack smiling indulgently or to see that indulgent smile aimed at his daughter.
Jack had kept his mouth shut throughout the last two decades but Colt knew Feb felt his condemnation. He knew it because she couldn’t miss it, everyone saw it. Jack loved his daughter, always had, always would. They’d been close once, as fathers and daughters should be. Feb was Jack’s little girl, not like Susie was a Daddy’s Little Girl, what Jack and Feb had was special and it was beautiful.
But Jack took her breakup with Colt and her subsequent behavior, marriage and defection as a personal affront to the family he built. He’d accepted her and her decisions as that was Jack’s way, but he didn’t like them and he didn’t pretend to. Colt had seen him smile at his daughter, laugh with her, but he hadn’t seen that indulgent smile in twenty years.
Colt’s gaze moved back to February who now had her tray tucked under her arm and she was scrutinizing one of the boy’s driver’s licenses. He watched as she said something then tipped her head his way. The boys all went pale in the dim lights of the bar and looked uncomfortably at him, some of them twisting in their chair to do it. Feb said something else and they quickly grabbed their jackets, the legs of their chairs scraping so desperately on the floor the noise could be heard over the music. Through their hurried departure Feb tapped the now-confiscated license against her palm, her eyes went to her father and she rolled them.
Colt stopped breathing.
Jack burst out laughing.
Feb used to roll her eyes all the time. The world was full of idiots doing idiot things that Feb thought worthy of an eye roll, mostly the idiot things she did herself.
He’d always loved it that she could laugh at herself and all the trouble she got herself into because she was so fired up to suck all the life out of the world that she could get in her. She never blushed when she did something stupid or crazy or embarrassing, she’d just roll her eyes, throw her head back and laugh.
“I’m guessin’ you won’t shut us down, officer, since Feb didn’t serve those young ‘uns,” Jack said, his voice vibrating with his chuckle. “Good you kids got so much practice flashin’ your fake IDs and getting yourself into liquor stores, bars and trouble. Means Morrie and Feb can sniff ‘em out from a mile away.”
Colt was listening but he was watching Feb move to another table, her chin lifting, giving them a hello-what-can-I-get-cha.
“World War Three…” Jack said, capturing Colt’s attention again and he turned to look at the man, “happened when Feb found out Morrie moved home. She doesn’t know why, she thinks it’s a trial reconciliation. Three hours ago she told Morrie to go home, help his now full-time workin’ wife with dinner, help her with the dishes, help their kids with their homework and then to bed then he could come back here.” Colt thought this was good advice and Jack kept talking. “Morrie told her his kids are ten and twelve years old and they don’t need no help gettin’ to bed and Dee’s been doin’ the dishes since she was a kid.” Colt thought this was a very stupid response and Jack kept right on going. “Feb lost her mind, told him to stop bein’ a jackass and get home to his family.” Colt wished he’d seen that. “Morrie told her it was Friday and ain’t no way he was leavin’ this bar on a busy Friday night.” Colt wished he’d been here to kick his friend up the ass. “Feb told him he had a choice, he could take care of his customers or he could keep his family.”
But instead he dipped his own chin and hid his response just as he kicked himself for being such an enormous jackass in the bathroom the day before finally losing it about her calling him Alec and taking away the only good thing they shared anymore.
Or so he thought.
After she denied him the jaw tilt that morning she threw a minor hissy fit about him being off the case. Colt had no idea if she was doing this because she thought The Feds were insulting him or if she wanted him working the case or both. He kept hearing her saying, “He’s a good cop,” over and over in his head and he liked the sound, too f**king much, but there was no denying he did.
And there was also no denying that her reaction to the possibility that he would get hurt, not to mention the death of his dog, had been spectacularly more mammoth than the tears she’d shed over her ass**le ex-husband. They’d thought they’d need to sedate her, hell, he’d thought it too. She was completely out of control.
But she’d let him calm her. Not her Dad, or her Mom, nor had she pulled herself together on her own. Colt had done it.
Feb could lose it. She had her mother’s temper which was volatile, though quiet, but making matters worse she was also emotional, again just like her Mom. Both Feb and Jackie could descend into righteous indignation or inconsolable tears at the slightest provocation. Like Jack with Jackie, Colt had been the only one back in the day who could calm February.
And that day, he’d done it again.
And last, she wasn’t avoiding his eyes anymore or his touch. That morning, after her drama and him helping her to pull herself together, she’d stood in his arms and started a conversation about how he should get a new dog. When Warren interrupted the moment, Colt’s hands itched to wring the man’s neck. But when Colt finally let Feb go, she didn’t step away, gain distance. She stood close then met his eyes before walking away.
He had no idea what any of this meant or if it meant anything at all and it was only her way of coping during a seriously shitty situation. He’d give her her lead and he’d wait.
What he wouldn’t do was let Sully, Jack or Morrie piss all over it. If something good came of this mess, a détente between the two of them, he was going to take it and he wasn’t going to let anyone piss on it.
No f**king way.
He slid onto his stool at the end of the bar and scanned the room.
“Off duty?” Jack asked and Colt nodded.
He heard the hiss of the cap coming off the beer and the thud of the bottle landing in front of him and he forgot until then how much he missed hearing Jack ask, “Off duty?” then the subsequent hiss and thud.
It sucked why the family was back together but he couldn’t deny he was glad they were.
“Where’s Morrie?” Colt asked, watching Feb talk to a table full of kids who looked too young to be sitting in a bar.
“Shoulda come in three hours ago, you missed World War Three,” Jack’s amused answer brought Colt’s eyes to him.
“World War Three?” Colt asked the smiling Jack, not sure whether he was more surprised to see Jack smiling indulgently or to see that indulgent smile aimed at his daughter.
Jack had kept his mouth shut throughout the last two decades but Colt knew Feb felt his condemnation. He knew it because she couldn’t miss it, everyone saw it. Jack loved his daughter, always had, always would. They’d been close once, as fathers and daughters should be. Feb was Jack’s little girl, not like Susie was a Daddy’s Little Girl, what Jack and Feb had was special and it was beautiful.
But Jack took her breakup with Colt and her subsequent behavior, marriage and defection as a personal affront to the family he built. He’d accepted her and her decisions as that was Jack’s way, but he didn’t like them and he didn’t pretend to. Colt had seen him smile at his daughter, laugh with her, but he hadn’t seen that indulgent smile in twenty years.
Colt’s gaze moved back to February who now had her tray tucked under her arm and she was scrutinizing one of the boy’s driver’s licenses. He watched as she said something then tipped her head his way. The boys all went pale in the dim lights of the bar and looked uncomfortably at him, some of them twisting in their chair to do it. Feb said something else and they quickly grabbed their jackets, the legs of their chairs scraping so desperately on the floor the noise could be heard over the music. Through their hurried departure Feb tapped the now-confiscated license against her palm, her eyes went to her father and she rolled them.
Colt stopped breathing.
Jack burst out laughing.
Feb used to roll her eyes all the time. The world was full of idiots doing idiot things that Feb thought worthy of an eye roll, mostly the idiot things she did herself.
He’d always loved it that she could laugh at herself and all the trouble she got herself into because she was so fired up to suck all the life out of the world that she could get in her. She never blushed when she did something stupid or crazy or embarrassing, she’d just roll her eyes, throw her head back and laugh.
“I’m guessin’ you won’t shut us down, officer, since Feb didn’t serve those young ‘uns,” Jack said, his voice vibrating with his chuckle. “Good you kids got so much practice flashin’ your fake IDs and getting yourself into liquor stores, bars and trouble. Means Morrie and Feb can sniff ‘em out from a mile away.”
Colt was listening but he was watching Feb move to another table, her chin lifting, giving them a hello-what-can-I-get-cha.
“World War Three…” Jack said, capturing Colt’s attention again and he turned to look at the man, “happened when Feb found out Morrie moved home. She doesn’t know why, she thinks it’s a trial reconciliation. Three hours ago she told Morrie to go home, help his now full-time workin’ wife with dinner, help her with the dishes, help their kids with their homework and then to bed then he could come back here.” Colt thought this was good advice and Jack kept talking. “Morrie told her his kids are ten and twelve years old and they don’t need no help gettin’ to bed and Dee’s been doin’ the dishes since she was a kid.” Colt thought this was a very stupid response and Jack kept right on going. “Feb lost her mind, told him to stop bein’ a jackass and get home to his family.” Colt wished he’d seen that. “Morrie told her it was Friday and ain’t no way he was leavin’ this bar on a busy Friday night.” Colt wished he’d been here to kick his friend up the ass. “Feb told him he had a choice, he could take care of his customers or he could keep his family.”
