I’d barely had a chance to recover when he did yet another breath-snatching thing. Looping the arm of his sunglasses in the front pocket of his white button-down shirt, he took another step toward me, so we were standing close — way closer than two strangers had any reason to stand. I normally would’ve backpedaled to maintain some breathing room, but with the clunker directly behind me, there was nowhere to retreat.
“I’m not going to ticket you,” he said softly. “The detective badge—” He tapped the gold shield in question. “—means I stopped doing traffic cop duties a long while back.”
“Oh.” Some of my panic ebbed.
His lips twitched again. “Yeah.”
“Then… what gives?”
“I’m not sure I understand your question.”
“Are you investigating me for a crime?”
“Why?” he countered without missing a beat. “Have you committed one I should be aware of?”
“I… What… You…” I swallowed down my stammers when I realized there was a humorous light dancing in his eyes.
He was…teasingme?
He was teasing me!
That was definitely not standard police protocol.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tried my best to appear blasé in the face of his ridicule, but my voice still came out strangled with barely-leashed irritation. “No, Detective. I have not committed a crime. Obviously.”
“Shame,” he murmured. “I bet you’d look good in my cuffs.”
My eyes bugged out of my head. Was he threatening me? Was he…hitting onme? I wasn’t sure which alternative was more ludicrous. Before I could ask, he took another step in my direction. We were only a foot apart, now. My spine was pressed so tight to my car door, I was pretty sure I’d have a handle shape imprinted on the small of my back for the foreseeable future.
“Uh…” I tilted my head all the way back to keep my eyes locked on his. He was tall — way taller than me, at least six-foot-two. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I was planning on heading home, taking my dog for a run…” His head tipped to the side. “But now I’m standing here with you.”
“You... Wha…What?”
“Which part was confusing? That I run or that I have a dog? Careful how you answer, you might wound my fragile self-confidence.”
If this guy had even one self-conscious bone in his body, I’d be flabbergasted. He held himself with such calm, cool, collected energy it was borderline intimidating. I sucked in another gulp of air and repeated, “What?”
“We do about four miles every night,” he confided, still eerily calm. “Six if it’s been a shit day, but in that case I don’t bring the dog. He’s actually more of a puppy. — still weaves like a drunken sailor half the time and pees every twenty steps, which sort of fucks with my cardio routine. We’re working on it.”
I stared at him, stunned totally silent, mouth gaping like a fish on dry land.
The cop evidently had no trouble at all holding up a one-sided conversation. “I rescued him about five months ago. He was supposed to be mid-size, but I’m guessing the shelter’s assumption he was mostly Labrador Retriever was wrong, seeing as he’s already the size of a small horse. I’d stake my badge he’s at least half Newfoundland.” He paused in thought. “Though, I’m not one for gambling and, let’s be honest, I can’t afford to lose the badge. I’m going to need every cent of my paycheck to keep him in kibble. Eating me out of house and home, the monster.”
“Uh, sorry, but…” I shook my head, utterly baffled. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“You asked.”
“I most certainly did not!”
“You asked what I was doing tonight,” he retorted, voice infuriatingly level. “Since my plans include Socks?—”
“Socks?”
“My puppy. That’s his name.”
“You named your puppySocks?”