Joke's on You (SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 6) Page 4

“You’re not gonna take Moe’s pizza?” he asked in surprise.

  He knew that I liked it.

  Everyone knew that I liked it.

  I sighed. “I’m on a diet.”

  He froze, his brows pinched. “What?”

  I shrugged helplessly, heading for the front door and pushing through.

  “I’m working on a new me,” I said. “That means no more sampling the merchandise, and no more Moe’s pizza.”

  He walked with me as I made it out to my car, and looked at me oddly.

  “Why do you need to diet at all?” he pushed.

  I resisted the urge to grab my belly fat and present it to him.

  “I’m…” I paused. “I’m overweight, Booth. It’s just the way it is. I need to lose weight.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Bourne ran up and snagged the pizza boxes from Booth’s hands and practically shoved them into mine.

  “The suspect is talking,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Booth looked torn, but in the end, he chose to give me a nod, then hurried back to his police cruiser.

  It was only later, as I was watching the five o’clock news after spending hours with the dogs, that I saw what all had happened at the mall.

  “Reports show that an armed shooter had barricaded herself in the women’s changing room after her husband was caught cheating with his lover,” the newscaster spoke. “After negotiations, the woman was apprehended. But not before she fired shots at a SWAT officer.”

  Fired shots.

  At a SWAT officer.

  Fired shots at a SWAT officer.

  Son of a bitch!

  Chapter 3

  If it isn’t broke, I can fix that.

  -Dillan’s secret thoughts

  Dillan

  I wasn’t sure exactly how it happened.

  One second I was in my living room, looking at the television without fully comprehending what I was seeing. And the next I was in my car, driving to Booth’s house.

  I’d made the drive hundreds of times before. I’d picked Asa up a lot.

  A whole lot more than I probably should have.

  Things between Delanie and Booth weren’t awkward, per se, but they definitely weren’t easy. And I had a feeling that had a lot to do with Booth living right next door to Bourne, and Bourne being at Booth’s house, or vice versa, quite a bit. Meaning that Delanie would have to see Bourne, and Delanie, unlike me, liked to avoid it if she could.

  See, whereas she avoided confrontation like the plague, I didn’t. I looked for it. Sought it out.

  Which likely was why I was currently pulling into Booth’s driveway instead of getting ready for bed like I should be.

  After getting out and practically running up Booth’s front walk, I knocked quietly on his door and waited impatiently for him to answer.

  I’m honestly not sure what I expected, but for him to answer the door in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else definitely wasn’t it.

  At first, my eyes were drawn to the lower part of his belly where the waistband of his pants rode.

  Low.

  Oh, so low.

  I could see dark hair that extended from his belly button all the way into his pants.

  Then there were the deep muscled valleys that formed the V that rode down the length of his groin, also disappearing into his pants.

  And the bulge of his pants? Yeah, we wouldn’t focus on that too hard.

  Forcing myself to lift my eyes, I once again moved them past his lower abs, but stalled out at the large, black circular bruise that was right below his left ribcage.

  I swallowed hard as I found another.

  And another.

  And another.

  Seven in total.

  All on his chest.

  All forming bruises so big that they’d likely form into one large formation by tomorrow morning.

  I blew out a shaky breath and finally lifted my eyes to his.

  “You avoided answering my question,” I said softly. “So I had to come see for myself if what I was thinking was true.”

  My eyes once again went to his bruises.

  But there was one that was different than all the rest.

  I reached out and barely grazed his skin with one finger.

  “What happened to that one?” I asked.

  That one just didn’t make sense in my head.

  He backed up, turning to the side, and pulled a black object off of his mantle.

  When he came back to the door, I saw a twisted piece of… stuff.

  At first, it took me a few seconds to realize what it was.

  Then it dawned on me.

  I was looking at his phone that was also sporting a hole through it.

  “What… how?” I asked in confusion.

  “It was in my left front pocket on my vest,” he said softly.

  Meaning, when Booth was shot eight times in the chest, one of those had taken out his phone before it’d buried itself in the Kevlar vest that had saved Booth’s life.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed.

  I looked at the destroyed phone, then moved my eyes to Booth’s gaze, only to allow it to return to the phone.

  “Booth, that could’ve been so bad,” I whispered.

  His eyes met mine.

  “I know.”

  I blinked and looked away, taking a step back.

  “I just had to know,” I said stiffly. “I felt like there was something…”

  “Something that you needed to know?” he filled in the blank.

  I jerked my head stiffly in the affirmative. “Yeah. Something that I had to know.” I swallowed. “Are you okay?”

  He pressed his hand to his chest. “Sore.”

  He gestured for me to follow him in, and I did.

  When I got there, I closed the door behind me, only to turn around and see him shrugging a t-shirt on over his head.

  A Kilgore SWAT one.

  I swallowed hard.

  I didn’t like the idea that he was hurting in any way.

  More so, I didn’t like that I wanted to reach forward and yank his shirt up just to make sure.

  “Where’s Asa?” I asked quietly.

  “My dad and mom stopped by. He practically begged to go over there.” He sighed. “I’m just not as cool as my parents. Plus, after he got kicked off the bus…”

  “He got kicked off the bus?” I squawked.

  Booth’s amused eyes met mine, then he gestured for me to come farther into his house.

  I held my breath as I took steps that would take me farther into Booth’s place than I’d ever been before.

  Side note, I didn’t self-combust.

  Though, it was a near thing.

  Seeing his shoes discarded on the floor? Sexy.

  Seeing a glass of half-finished beer on the kitchen table? Also sexy.

  “Yeah,” he said as he walked into the kitchen.

  Then there was the fact that his kitchen was sparkling clean. So, so sexy.

  Even my kitchen wasn’t that clean.

  And it was obvious that he did use it since there was a pot in the drying rack next to the sink, as well as a few spoons and forks in a coffee cup also next to the sink.

  “Want some coffee?” he asked as he held out the half-filled coffee pot to me.

  I licked my lips.

  I really should say no.

  I really, really should just turn around and leave right now.

  I’d had a long ass day, and an even longer night.

  This doing two jobs thing was absolutely killing me.

  I mean, there wasn’t a person alive that could survive on the amount of sleep I’d been getting lately.

  “Sure,” I said, even though I was going to regret it. “I’ll take one cup.”

  He looked at me. “Are you sure?”

  Who needed sleep, anyway?

  “Yes, I’m sure,�
� I replied softly. “I take whatever sort of cream or milk you have until it’s no longer resembling coffee in any way, and two spoonfuls of sugar.”

  He looked at me with amusement, but did as I said.

  I leaned over and inspected the cup.

  “More.” He added more. “More.” He continued pouring. “Almost,” I said, then announced, “Perfect!”

  He looked at me with amusement, stirred my cup, and then handed it to me.

  “Do you have a straw?” I asked.

  He didn’t say a word, only looked at me with amusement as he fished out one of Asa’s straws—it was a twisty one that the drink had to travel through all of the hoops—and it was magnificent.

  “Thanks.” I grinned.

  He gestured me out toward the back porch.

  “Come on,” he said softly.

  Booth moved much more slowly than I’d ever seen him move before, and I realized only then that it was due to the shots he’d taken to the chest.

  Eight shots in total.

  To the chest.

  Thank God he was wearing a bulletproof vest.

  That could’ve been horrific.

  He gestured to the glider big enough for two, and I gracefully—yeah, I was surprised, too—slid into it without once spilling any of my coffee.

  But I did spill it when Booth sat down, rather roughly.

  Luckily it didn’t get on me. Thankfully when I saw how hard he was coming down, I held the coffee cup over the side, allowing it to spill on the concrete.

  “Sorry, hurts,” he muttered, gritting his teeth. “Felt like I was kicked by a fuckin’ mule.”

  I could imagine.

  “I’ve never been shot before,” I admitted. “Or kicked by a mule, but I imagine that it doesn’t feel too great.”

  He chuckled, then righted himself in the chair. “I’m gonna be doing absolutely nothing tomorrow after what happened today. Jesus Christ.” He hissed through clenched teeth when he sat up. “It hurts for my shirt to touch it.”

  I leaned over and sucked down some of my coffee so it wouldn’t be too full, then let my mouth run wild.

  “Then take it back off,” I suggested.

  He hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “I honestly don’t think I can. It hurts to raise my arms over my head.”

  I licked my lips. Then again, let my mouth have free rein.

  “I can help,” I told him, leaning forward and setting my coffee on the small table in front of us.

  He held out his coffee, too. Then I stood up and maneuvered myself between the table and Booth’s legs.

  He breathed through clenched teeth as I helped him lift one arm and bunched the shirt up underneath of it.

  He pulled his arm through, took a deep breath, and then ducked his head so that I could pull it over his head.

  I rolled my eyes.

  So that was where Asa got it!

  “You know,” I said with amusement. “You’re supposed to take off the shirt from both arms before you take your head out. It’s ten times easier. Which I explain to Asa on an almost daily basis,” I teased.

  He chuckled weakly. “Guilty.”

  He was guilty.

  But I also found it endearing.

  I loved that Asa looked up to his dad.

  I was especially happy that Asa loved him as much as he did, even though Booth hadn’t been a constant part of his life up until the last ten months or so since he’d gotten out of the military.

  At first, it’d been rocky. Asa wasn’t too sure about him, and it broke my heart.

  He’d be willing to spend all day long with me, Bourne, or Delanie. Hell, even Booth’s parents. But Asa was wary of Booth. For good reason. Booth was an intimidating guy and had to work at toning down his scariness.

  Though, I didn’t think that Booth could help it, per se.

  That was just the nature of the beast when you spent that much time in a war zone.

  I licked my lips, not wanting to think about those days where Booth’s eyes would look so hurt.

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  He sighed.

  “Long story short, some chick and her husband were having a marital spat. He said she could sleep with other men. She didn’t want to. He thought since he said she could, that it meant that he could. So he sexes up some random chick in the lingerie department while the wife is trying on some bras. Fast forward to her walking in on hearing him have sex, and she just goes fuckin’ nuts.”

  I stared at him in shock, dumbfounded by some people’s stupidity.

  “And when we tried to arrest her after that, he opens fire on us, pissed that we’re taking away his wife.”

  “That’s when you took the bullets to the chest,” I said softly.

  He nodded. “That’s when.”

  “Did the man die?” I asked curiously.

  Was it bad that I wanted him to?

  I mean, the man nearly killed Booth!

  “No.” Booth leaned forward for his drink, and that was when I realized that I was still practically standing between his legs.

  Before I plopped down next to him, I carefully gave him his drink.

  Then I took my spot beside him before leaning forward and sucking some coffee from the coolest straw ever.

  “Thank you,” he rumbled, taking small sips.

  I leaned back and stared at him.

  “I just…” I licked my dry lips. “I had to know, I guess. I feel stupid for not noticing before.”

  He chuckled. “I think that mostly it was me not wanting to tell you. I knew that you looked. That was why I put Asa completely in front of me.”

  I scratched my head, then leaned forward to drink the rest of my coffee.

  The straw made amusing sucking sounds as I hit the bottom.

  “Want some more?” he asked.

  That I shouldn’t do.

  Taking his shirt off had been the highlight of my day, though.

  I really, really wanted to go to bed so I could dream about taking it off all over again.

  That was about as close as I could ever come to having Booth Pena—in my dreams.

  “Sadly,” I said as I picked up my cup, “I really have to go. I have to be up early in the morning. Even earlier than usual because I have to get the dogs into the kennels and get them fed and watered. Luckily, there’s one less that I’d have to take care of today because Delanie sold one to an ex-cop in Toronto. He came down early, and I had to do the whole spiel with him. I’m not sure how Delanie does it. I feel like a complete moron every time I try to make them sit or do something and they don’t pay attention.”

  He chuckled.

  “Delanie is just insanely good at it,” he said as he leveraged himself out of the glider using his knees. “Thank you for coming over to check on me, Dillan.”

  I bit my lip and stared at him for a few long seconds.

  “You scared me, Booth,” I told him honestly. “Be safe out there. Asa would miss you like crazy if you weren’t here anymore.”

  He was silent for a few seconds as he led me once again through his house, only backward this time.

  When I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, I half expected him not to follow me out. But he did.

  Stepping out on the porch with me, he didn’t have a shy bone in his body as he proudly stood there in front of me looking like a midnight snack.

  The light that was coming from his house at his back, paired with the front porch light, lit up his body like he was a display at the museum.

  And he really could’ve pulled off the Greek statue look completely.

  He had well-defined, honed muscles. And I’m not talking about here and there. I’m talking about those muscles along his ribs that I liked to call ‘side abs.’ His pectoral muscles were bunched up, making me kind of envious.

  Sadly, I wasn’t the biggest bra cup in the world, and when Booth stood like that, his muscles th
ere were even bigger than my boobs.

  And the veins.

  Sweet baby Jesus, the veins on the man.

  They were everywhere.

  On his arms and biceps, his belly, running down into his pants, seriously, if I was a nurse, I’d be drooling right now.

  As it was, I wasn’t a nurse, I just had a stellar ability to check out the male form, and I was practically salivating.

  Luckily, the fact that I knew that Booth would most certainly notice had me keeping it under control.

  He missed absolutely nothing.

  Which was why, when he cleared his throat, I blushed profusely.

  “Those freakin’ bruises are gonna hurt tomorrow,” I lied through my teeth. “Are you sure you don’t need to, you know, go to the emergency room or something?”

  He flashed me a quick grin, and I had the distinct feeling that he knew damn well I wasn’t looking at his bruises.

  “I went to the hospital,” he said. “They forced me to. I passed out for a second, so it was required by law. When I woke up, I was already in the back of the ambulance. One of my dad’s good friends was in the back with me, so despite me informing him that I was okay, and that I didn’t want to go to the hospital, he forced me to go anyway. More like, he ignored me and my complaints.”

  I smiled, even though a sudden, vicious wave of sickness had coursed through me at the mention of him having passed out and riding in an ambulance.

  The idea of him being hurt that badly for him to pass out had the smile quickly falling away.

  “It was good that you went,” I told him as I turned to go. “Take some ibuprofen, at least. You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.”

  I was two steps down the pathway to my car when Booth’s voice halted me in my tracks.

  “Hey, Dillan?” he called, making me halt halfway back to my car.

  I turned and surveyed him. “Yeah?”

  “I did a lot of thinking on the floor of that dressing room before I passed out,” he said.

  I frowned. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Came to a few conclusions.”

  I felt my heart start to pick up its pace.

  “What were those?” I asked hesitantly.

  “I’m done waiting,” he said. “I’m no longer going to let life pass me by.”

  I was almost afraid to ask what he meant by that.

  “Oh yeah?” I licked my lips. “What’s that mean?”