“I wasn’t given much choice,” she reminded him as she jabbed the Down button again. If she knew where the stairs were, she would have already been in the lobby. Her phone vibrated, then chimed as she received a text.
“You could have chosen to accept the ticket.”
“And lose my license?” She shook her head as she pulled out her phone and read the message. “And my job? I had no choice.”
“You do now.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning toward him. She didn’t dare hope that he had changed his mind, but she had to ask, “Are you going to let me out of the academy?”
Irritation furrowed his brow, and he pushed a hand through his dark hair. “No. The judge only agreed to this with the stipulation that you don’t miss a single class.”
“I won’t—”
“You missed half the class.” He reached for her and wrapped his fingers around her hand that held the cell. “Because of this.”
Her skin tingling, Tessa pulled away just as the elevator doors finally slid open. She stepped inside and reached for the L button. So did he, his hand brushing hers again.
“I can’t miss any calls,” she said, but refrained from offering any further explanation. As the doors closed them into the small car together, Tessa drew in a shaky breath.
“It’s one night. Just a few hours. You can return your missed calls later,” he said, “not during class. The choice you have is to show up every week and either sit and pout, or participate.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t pout.”
“Sulk, then.”
She opened then closed her mouth, unable to disagree with his observation. Thinking of what she was missing while at the academy, she had sulked.
“If you participate, you might find you learn something,” he pointed out as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to the deserted lobby, “and enjoy yourself.”
She might, but she wouldn’t admit that to him. “The other people in class sound interesting,” she said, thinking of the witty introductions of everyone from a reporter for the Lakewood Chronicle, the dark-haired woman sitting on the other side of her, some Neighborhood Watch captains, a couple of teachers, a youth minister, a former gang member turned youth center founder to an elderly couple who had admitted taking the class for thrills. Heck, even the mayor’s daughter was taking the class although, given her reputation, her participation might not have been voluntary, either.
“And they’re interested,” the lieutenant persisted, “in learning.”
“You don’t think I am?” she asked.
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling and etching deep creases in his cheeks. Tessa’s breath caught at the transformation. Maybe Amy was right; he was yummy.
“I know you’re not interested.”
Once again, she couldn’t lie, so she just smiled. “Well, only fourteen more classes to go. See you next week, Lieutenant.” She turned toward the doors to the street.
But he walked across the lobby with her, shortening his long strides to match hers. Then he pushed open the glass door.
“Thanks for seeing me out,” she said as she passed through the doorway.
“Did you park in the ramp around the block?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It’s almost eleven,” he pointed out as he followed her onto the sidewalk. Tall buildings, the windows dark after hours, flanked the cobblestone street. “This isn’t the safest neighborhood at night.”
“That’s pretty ironic,” she mused. “I would have figured the neighborhood around the police department would be the safest place in the city.”
“You’d figure, huh?” he agreed as he stepped closer as if shielding her with his body.
Even though he didn’t touch her, Tessa’s skin tingled again. She shook her head, disgusted with herself for acting as hormonal as the barely-out-of-her-teens, police-groupie Amy. Even if Tessa did go for men in uniform, this would be the last man to whom she would be attracted.
“Is it because of the jail?” she asked. “Why it isn’t safe here?”
“Booking and lock-up is in a separate building, blocks away,” he assured her. “But there are some muggers and car thieves who prey on the after-theater and bar crowd.”
“Well, I’m not coming from the theater or a bar, so you really don’t need to walk me to my car,” she insisted, her heels clicking against the concrete as she quickened her pace. Despite it being early September, a brisk wind blew off Lake Michigan, which was only miles from downtown Lakewood, cooling the night air.
“Since the rest of the class left before you, I can’t let you walk out alone here,” he said, his voice thickening with some of the frustration she felt.
Shadows shifted around the buildings, and Tessa’s grip tightened on her briefcase. “You take this whole serve-and-protect thing seriously.”
“Protect and serve,” Chad corrected her. “And yes, I do.” That was the only reason he had suggested she enroll in the CPA—for her protection and the protection of everyone else on the road. Not because he was attracted to her. He could not be attracted to her. Yet his gaze skimmed down her body, over the wiggle of her hips as she stalked toward the parking garage in the high heels that brought the top of her blond head nearly to the level of his chin.
“Whatever,” she said, dismissive of a police officer’s sacred oath, “You take it too seriously.”
He bit back a laugh as he followed her up the ramp of the parking garage. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a more self-involved woman.”
Her blond hair swayed across her back as she swung her head toward him. She gasped, and her blue eyes widened with surprise. “You think I’m self-involved?”
Thinking of her shameless flirting and constant phone calls and texts, he snorted. “I don’t think. I know it.”
“You don’t know me at all,” she said, heels slamming into the concrete as she stalked up the ramp.
“I know your type.”
“What’s my type?” she asked, but didn’t even slow down for his answer.
He caught her arm, drawing her to a halt just steps from her black SUV, which she probably would have stormed right past. “You’re beautiful.”
She spun toward him, her mouth falling open at his compliment.
Desire kicked him in the ribs. He wanted to kiss her. “Vivacious,” he continued. “Reckless.” And that was why he couldn’t kiss her. “With total disregard for your safety or anyone else’s.”
She pulled keys from her briefcase, her hand shaking so much that they jangled, and unlocked her SUV. “I am not reckless.”
“Your driving record proves otherwise.”
She shrugged. “A few speeding tickets.”
“One with an accident,” he reminded her.
She laughed, albeit without humor. “I hit a patch of black ice and slid off the road into a mailbox.”
He tensed, dread tightening his stomach muscles. “It could have just as easily been a tree or utility pole.”
“It wasn’t.” She lifted her chin. “And I didn’t even put a dent in my vehicle.”
“The