Falling for You

Pity, huh? Megan brought her fingers to the keyboard, mentally composing a polite, yet firm, very firm, refusal, when another e-mail from Barry popped up with the subject line Need urgent favor.

The sinking feeling she tried to ignore told her that she’d been hoping the first e-mail might be a let’s-get-together-for-coffee e-mail. Which would be a prelude to a dinner or a movie or a night of wild monkey sex.

No!

She did not think that way ever. Certainly not about Barry. Okay, she would not think that way about Barry ever again. Gritting her teeth, Megan tried to type a scathing reply to the as-yet unread message, but her hands had been sweating and SDeR B Atty was all she managed to type.

Oh, fine. Sighing, she opened the e-mails and discovered that he wanted her to run a license-plate number for him. He was interested in a name and whether that name dinged any police bells.

Although cops had been known to do so, accessing the Law Enforcement Information Network outside the performance of official duties was totally against the rules and Megan wasn’t in a position to break any rules. She typed back a naked No and hit Send, feeling strongly virtuous.

The feeling lasted for a couple of seconds before she realized she’d made a tactical error.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Gina asked.

“I shouldn’t have answered him.”

“You answered him?”

“I said, ‘No.’” Megan’s e-mail was already chiming. “But now he knows I’m here.”

“What did he want?”

“For me to run a plate.”

Shaking her head, Gina pointedly looked at her monitor. “I didn’t hear that.”

“It’s okay that you heard it. I’m not going to do it.”

Gina didn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m not!” Megan had to raise her voice over the sound of the e-mail chime. She turned off the sound.

She tried very hard to concentrate on her very important work—yes, the world would be a better place once she finished inventorying the True Blue pencils that the community relations department passed out to school kids. She was about to make a huge decision: The navy-night color was no longer manufactured so Megan had been given the responsibility of choosing a new color for their next order. It was important. It was. Every time elementary school students used their pencils, they’d think of the police. The blue—and yes, it would stay blue—color had to be strong, but not intimidating. She had a call into the Dallas Cowboys organization to find out what their shade of blue was called so the police didn’t duplicate it. But the police had gold lettering and the Cowboys had silver, so Megan thought that was enough of a difference if their only choice was the Cowboys’ blue—well, the point was, she was busy making important decisions here. She had no time to pay attention to Barry and his incessant e-mails.

They were coming at the rate of one a minute now. What a jerk.

And then three minutes went by without one and Megan was lured into looking at them and their identical subject lines: I’m sorry. Please?

Megan slumped. Honestly, for all the mental energy she’d expended, she should just—No. This was a test and if she gave in now, she would never be able to take a stand against him again.

A thought occurred to her and she grabbed for her phone and activated the instant voice mail. He’d be calling any minute.

She wouldn’t be able to keep her voice mail set that way for long, but Barry wasn’t stupid. He’d get the message and leave her alone.

She waited, then went back online to search the Internet for pencils.

She had three solid minutes to compare pencil colors and quantity prices before her e-mail icon flashed. The subject line read You’re not answering your phone.

Megan sighed.

“You could block his e-mails,” Gina suggested.

“I hate myself,” Megan muttered. “He just…just…”

“Pushes all your buttons?”

“Oh, it’s worse than that. I have special buttons just for him.”

Chuckling, Gina leaned down and when she straightened, she handed Megan a handful of change across their desks. “I could use a Dr Pepper right now. You could, too.”

“Yes. Dr Pepper. Sugar. Caffeine.” Megan stood. “I’m on it.”

“Why, thank you, Megan.” Gina grinned and pointed to her dimples.

Megan’s e-mail chimed.

“I thought you turned that off.”

“It turns on after you access it.”

“Oh, Megan.”

“I’m going now.”

“Good idea.”

Megan used the walk to the break room to clear her mind of Barry Sutton and his e-mails. The squad room was packed with officers and detectives. Why did he pick on her?

Because she was a soft touch, Megan thought, answering her own question. She had no business being a soft touch. She was a police officer. She was competent and in control.

Megan shoved quarters into the soda machine and took a restorative swallow as soon as she opened the can. Okay. Technically, Barry was harassing her. Therefore, she would send him an e-mail explaining exactly what the consequences were if he didn’t cease and desist because if she received one more e-mail, she was turning him in. Strong. Competent. No nonsense.

When she got back to her desk, there were fifty-seven e-mails clogging her in-box and they were now arriving every few seconds.

Megan sent her cease-and-desist e-mail and then waited.

They stopped.

“Quitter,” she muttered, almost disappointed. Twenty minutes later, Barry strode across the squad room.

BARRY DID NOT HAVE time for this, but apparently Megan was the type to hold a grudge and would require a little face-to-face intervention.

Frankly, he was surprised. Usually, getting Megan to cooperate was a no-brainer. She was refreshingly eager to please, so honest she squeaked, and had both freckles and breasts. Barry had figured out that she liked the freckles and didn’t know what to do with the breasts. She was the type of woman who felt they got in the way. And he supposed they did. They sure spoiled the line of her uniform. And he meant that in a good way.

She was sun-kissed cute, the type of girl a guy would ask to fill in on a Saturday softball game. Barry didn’t play softball, but he could appreciate her type. He’d decided her type was the adolescent pal who suddenly developed a sexy little body that she ignored and none of her guy pals could. The way to her heart was to ignore her womanly charms and treat her like a kid sister—somebody else’s kid sister. See, that kind of subtlety was the key to Barry’s success. If he treated her like his kid sister, then the male-female thing was not there. Somebody else’s kid sister, and the male-female thing could be there. It was that whiff of possibility that he put into the smile he reserved just for her.