“Are you attached to your gun? Your badge? Your nifty cop-mobile?”
The eyebrow raised another notch. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but I get your point.”
Gina raised the binoculars to her eyes again and looked around at nothing. Looking at him while she spoke made her anxious, jumpy. She both hated the feeling and was exhilarated by it. Which was irritating in the extreme. Focusing on anything else was a good idea.
“At first, I got into it to help Nat out,” she said, dropping the binoculars but keeping her gaze on the truck. “She was baking out of her kitchen, doing parties for friends, that kind of thing. She started picking up business and couldn’t keep up by herself. I was working for a temp agency, having fun doing odd jobs.”
“It didn’t bother you not having something steady?”
She shook her head. “That was one of the great things about it. I didn’t have to go to the same job every day, do the same thing. I enjoyed it.”
“But isn’t driving the cupcake truck doing the same thing every day?” He reached into the bag and pulled out a cupcake. “Though it’s got other perks, for sure.”
He ate the cupcake in two bites. Gina’s jaw dropped. “You might want to chew that,” she said.
He winked at her and licked a bit of frosting off his lip. She flushed, fighting the urge to tighten her legs against the jolt of electricity that had shot straight to her core.
His smug smile was enough to get her head back on track. No way was she going to let him see how much he affected her. She turned her attention back to the truck and answered his question.
“I thought I’d hate it. But it’s really not monotonous at all. I mean, yes, there are certain things I do every day. But there’s a lot of variety to it, too. We experiment with flavors and decorating. If I get sick of one spot I can move to another one. And I enjoy chatting with my regulars and meeting new people every day. There’s always someone who makes an impression.”
She laughed and leaned her head back against her chair. “I once had a guy run up wearing nothing but a hot-pink fuzzy bathrobe and some furry slippers. It was his girlfriend’s birthday and he’d totally forgotten. He’d seen the truck and ran down to grab a few while she was in the shower. Only she saw him and came down screaming at him. Ended up chucking the cupcakes at his head.”
Rick laughed and took the binoculars from her. She watched him while he looked around. Even relaxed as he was, there was an edge to him, an alertness that probably never went away. She could easily believe he’d always be ready at a moment’s notice, no matter what the danger.
“What about you?” she asked. “You always want to be a cop?”
He put the binoculars down with a nostalgic smile. “Oh yeah, since I was little. Did you ever see that movie Kindergarten Cop?”
Gina frowned. “With Arnold Schwarzenegger? Sure.”
“My dad took me to see it when it came out. I was obsessed with that movie. I wanted to be Arnold bringing in the bad guys. So for my birthday, my dad got me one of those policeman sets. You know, the ones that come with fake handcuffs and a badge and plastic gun. I wore my gear everywhere. My sisters got really sick of me arresting them.”
Gina laughed. “I bet.”
“The thing that really got me in trouble, though, was the hall monitor job.”
“Ohhh no,” she groaned. “You weren’t one of those obnoxious kids that roamed the hallways tattling on kids who were out of class without a hall pass, were you?”
“Oh yeah. In fifth grade. I had a badge and everything.” He shook his head with a self-deprecating grin. “I got beat up a lot that year.”
Gina frowned; the thought of a young Rick getting picked on at school broke her heart a bit. “That’s sad.”
He shrugged. “It was okay. Over that summer I had a major growth spurt. And spent my days learning how to box. Came back in sixth grade a head taller than everyone else and a lot more ready to defend myself. It only took once. Didn’t even have to touch the kid. Just stood there and stared him down. Still wore the hall monitor badge, but no one touched me after that. And one day, I got to help someone else. Rescued him from a group ass-kicking. It felt good, you know?”
“Yeah, I bet it did,” she said.
“So I stuck with it. Became a cop for real. Though I still have my original badge.”
“Really?” she asked with a laugh. How cute is that?
“Yeah. It’s in a box on my bookshelf with a few other things. I’ll always keep it. To remind me of that first time I helped someone.”