Branded(14)
“Look, I think you just need to take a breath and calm down.”
My face heats with anger and I rethink the notion that I could be friends with him. Has man really not evolved enough over the years to learn that you never, ever tell a woman to calm down?
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Dax. Someone left a note on my door talking about a threesome that only you, me and one other person had any knowledge of. You don’t find that the least bit concerning?” I argue.
“Answer me this,” Dax speaks softly, cocking his head to the side. “Did you go charging into DJ’s place of employment with the same accusations?”
My mouth opens and closes and I stutter a few unintelligible words. I told myself on the way over here that going to Dax was the obvious solution because he’s a detective. It’s his job to find answers to things.
When I’m unable to come up with a satisfactory response to Dax’s question, I realize the real reason I didn’t go to DJ first is because I fear what will happen when we’re in the same room together. After the other night at the gallery, it’s clear what DJ thinks of me. It’s exactly what I wanted him to believe…and I hate it. I hate myself even more because of it. I’m not a confused person by nature. I know what I want and I go for it. If things don’t turn out exactly how I planned, fuck it, there’s always another day to plot and plan. Thoughts of DJ and the way my body responds to his touch and the craving I feel deep down in the pit of my stomach have turned me into a bigger bitch than normal. I want to see him again. I want to touch him again. And I fucking hate that I want all of these things that I have no business craving.
This is the conundrum my life has become in the span of a few weeks, and it’s seriously pissing me off.
“That’s what I thought,” Dax responds to my non-answer with a chuckle.
He moves back around behind his desk and flops down in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head casually. “Did you ever think it might have just been a neighbor’s kid playing a prank?”
I roll my eyes. “My neighbor’s son is six. I highly doubt they’ve covered the word ‘whore’ in his weekly spelling tests just yet.”
There’s a knock on the door and I glance over my shoulder to see the dispatch officer who showed me to Dax’s office stick her head inside.
“Captain wanted me to make sure you’re still coming to McCallahan’s tonight, Dax.”
She says his name all soft and breathy and I watch her lick her lips as she blatantly stares wide-eyed at the man behind me.
“Dollar drafts and he’s already started a pool that he’s going to kick your ass at darts,” she says with a giggle.
Dax laughs right along with her and I turn back around to watch him lean forward to rest his elbows on his desk, giving her a wink. “Wouldn’t miss it, Marcie. Seven o’clock?”
Her cheeks blush a deep shade of red, and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at what’s happening right in front of me. A strong, confident woman in uniform who probably had to bust her ass twice as hard as every guy around her turned into a tittering twit the moment Dax showed her a little attention.
“Yep, seven. First round is on me,” she states with a smile and another pathetic giggle before pulling her head back through the opening and closing the door behind her.
I turn back to face Dax and raise an irritated eyebrow at him. “Drafts and darts, huh? Yes, you sound completely SWAMPED with the new job. Also, if you keep banging the women you work with, one of these days you’re going to get your balls shot off.”
Dax just laughs.
“First of all, the department is throwing a going-away party for me. It’s not like the guest of honor can just be a no-show. And second, I’ll have you know Marcie was very understanding about our one night together after I explained I was just under too much pressure at work to concentrate seriously on a wonderful woman such as herself. The same with Stacey, Amber, Johanna and Diane,” he counts on his fingers, naming all of the women I passed as I made my way through the department to his office.
“Jesus, maybe that note isn’t about me. It’s someone from your harem come to collect some payback,” I mutter.
“Hey, I make my intentions perfectly clear before any clothing is shed and orgasms are exchanged. You might want to try doing that sometime,” he chastises.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I scoff.
“Riiiight and DJ, a pretty good friend of mine, or so I thought, didn’t threaten to rip off all of my appendages one by one if I so much as looked at you again while he and I walked out to our cars the other night. Someone in this situation doesn’t seem to be on the same page, and it sure as hell isn’t me.”