Officer on Duty (Lock and Key Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

you if my life depended on it. I could ask her, though.”
    Jeremy nodded. “What kind of hair’s she got?”
    “Brown.”
    Brown. The simplistic answer was on-par with how Jeremy would typically talk about hair, so he didn’t really have the right to roll his eyes.
    “I mean, is it curly or straight?”
    “Straight.”
    He frowned. He’d already considered calling his cousin Liam, or their mutual friends Henry and Grey. They were all in relationships, but their women had straight hair, too.
    “You telling me you don’t have someone to ask?” Richardson raised both his brows now.
    “I’m single.”
    “Now that just doesn’t make any sense. I may not have been here long, but if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard Kelly get all poetic over your blue eyes, I could retire already.”
    Richardson raised his voice to a falsetto and started singing Jeremy’s praises. “I swear, doesn’t Sergeant Connor just have the bluest eyes? Wish I did. Wish I had a man who did.”
    Jeremy wished he could say it was bullshit, but it was a nauseatingly accurate impression of Kelly, a shameless flirt and gossip who worked in dispatch. She had a crush on every man she’d ever laid eyes on, as far as Jeremy could tell, but he was one of her favorites to embarrass and torment.
    “You know,” Jeremy said, “you look a lot like that snot-nosed little bike thief when you smirk.”
     
* * * * *
 
    Lucia was never quite sure how much or how often to water her plants. Sometimes she had a feeling she overdid it, but that was better than underdoing it, wasn’t it?
    Standing on her tiptoes, she poured water into one of her hanging baskets, frowning when excess liquid dripped from the vents at the bottom of the pot, confirming her suspicions.
    Well, at least her petunias weren’t about to shrivel up and die.
    She glanced down the street at Meredith’s house. Even from a distance, the flowers pouring from her window boxes were vibrant. Maybe she could ask her for tips next time she spoke to her.
    She had no doubt that would be soon, but at the moment it wasn’t the silver-haired social butterfly she saw, but her granddaughter.
    Paige Connor emerged from the house, and by the time she reached the curb, it was obvious she was carrying something.
    A plate of some sort – possibly the same one Lucia had returned just days ago.
    She crossed the street and walked up the sidewalk, stopping when she reached Lucia’s house.
    More baked goods? Lucia didn’t know whether to cry tears of joy for her taste buds, or sorrow for her hips. The lemon bars had left her sure she’d never be able to resist Meredith Connor’s baking.
    “Hey there,” she said, her belly threatening to growl as Paige climbed the steps.
    Paige’s hair barely touched her shoulders. Last time Lucia had seen her, it’d been halfway down her back, a mane of wild, natural curls many women would envy.
    “Hey.” She stopped at the top step, holding up a plate mummified in layers of cling wrap that rendered the contents ambiguous. “You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?”
    “No.”
    “My grandmother wanted me to ask. She has a friend who’s allergic, and she can’t even touch anything that has them.”
    Lucia eyed the tray with interest, feeling naughty. “Should I take that to mean that your grandmother is spoiling me again?”
    Paige shrugged. “She made peanut butter cookies today and had some left over.”
    Accidental extras? Remembering what Jeremy had said about his mother being both generous and stubborn, Lucia doubted it.
    “Well, tell her I said thank you.” Lucia accepted the plate. “I’ve never been so glad I moved into a neighborhood in my life.”
    Paige smiled, but that expression soon wavered. “Could I, um, ask you something?”
    Lucia raised her gaze from Paige’s mouth to her eyes. They were a smoky grey, not blue like her father’s, but still strikingly pretty. And at the moment, they were about as cheerful as a brooding