Officer out of Uniform (Lock and Key Book 2) (2 page)

Henry knew the value of a well-laid plan. You never went into action without one. That’d been his original mistake – the one he’d made on beach day. Had he been looking forward to spending a day on the shore with the group?

Hell yes, he had. The prospect of seeing Sasha in a swimsuit had kept him up half the night before. But he’d never expected things to escalate so quickly between them. He’d figured he’d have to ease in … get to know her better before he asked her out alone, and then go from there. In his experience, intimacy was hard won and women worth having usually took some wooing. The group day at the beach had seemed like a perfect stepping stone to a solo date.

And then … well, she’d shown him what utter crap his assumptions had been. One thing was for sure: Sasha wasn’t like other women he’d dated in the past. Her flirting was more akin to a contact sport than simple fun or teasing.

He didn’t plan to be caught off guard again. Now that he knew what to make of her – sort of – he could think about his next step and avoid being sideswiped by her boldness again. He’d treat her to some actual romance this time, and hopefully that’d be enough to keep her from running off again.

Obviously, the first step in his plan was flowers. Every woman loved flowers. You couldn’t go wrong with a nice bouquet. Henry was sure of that … reasonably sure, anyway. So, after he finished his shift at the Riley Correctional Center, he climbed into his blue Dodge Ram and drove straight for town.

There was only one florist in the town of Cypress, a tiny little shop with lots of windows, all glass and blossoms, wedged in between a café and a seafood place on Seaside Avenue. The sidewalk was flooded with the salty scent of nearby sea water and richer aromas from restaurants.

Henry walked into Seaside Floral like he was storming a hostile territory, gaze assessing every detail, knowing he only had one chance to get this right, and that everything depended on it.

Everything he gave a damn about at the moment, anyway. When he thought of Sasha, her luscious curves and bold personality crowded his mind, leaving him unable to focus on much else.

“Hello! Can I help you find something – an arrangement for someone special, maybe?”

Henry turned to face a tiny woman with a perky smile. Make that tiny
girl
. She had to be a teenager – maybe even still a highschooler. That fact was a little unnerving. He’d been counting on some expert advice from a florist, not the opinion of some kid working part-time after school.

The girl bounced on her toes, reminding him of the hyper little terrier mutt, Holden, that belonged to his best friend Liam and his fiancée.

“I’m looking for some flowers,” he admitted. “A bouquet for … someone special.”

“Right.” The girl nodded and darted toward a glass display cabinet. It looked like the freezer aisle in a grocery store, only it was full of flowers instead of frozen vegetables and ice cream.

When she returned, she had her arms wrapped around a huge vase of roses. There had to be at least two dozen blossoms inside it, each one a different color. The arrangement seemed a little too chaotic and flashy, even for Sasha.

The girl stood on her tiptoes, thrusting the roses toward Henry as she peeked at him over the top of the blossoms. A rich perfume drifted up from the enormous container.

“These flowers are just examples of the rose varieties we have to choose from. I want you to think of the person you’ll be giving the flowers to,” she said. “Think of the message you want to send. Go ahead and close your eyes… Don’t be afraid to concentrate.”

There was no way in hell Henry was going to close his eyes. Not standing there exposed in the florist’s shop, surrounded by wide glass windows. Especially not in his uniform. Wearing the thing in public was like walking around with a target painted on his back.

The shop girl seemed satisfied with a few moments of silence, even if he did keep his eyes open. “Okay, are you envisioning the message you want to send?”

He nodded as visions of Sasha crowded his mind, filling him with a deep sense of desire that combined with the smell of roses to make his head spin.

“Good. Now I’m going to help you choose flowers that will convey that message. What is it?”

He blinked, almost took a step backward. Tell this kid about the ‘message’ he wanted to send to Sasha? Not a chance. It’d be indecent, not to mention awkward as hell. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The girl’s wide smile wavered, but only briefly. “Okay, how about I tell you what the different rose colors mean, and you stop me when I hit on the message you want to send?”

Slowly, Henry nodded.

“Pink roses are a great choice if you’re trying to show a woman how special she is to you. They’re a classic symbol of femininity and refinement, gentleness and grace.” She pointed to a pink bloom. “The darker shades can also be used to show appreciation. People usually send pink roses to their mothers, sisters—”

“We’re not related,” Henry said quickly, trying not to scoff out loud at the idea of presenting Sasha with delicate pink flowers. Refinement? Gentleness?

Yeah, those words didn’t exactly capture her essence. Not that he was complaining.

“Okay. Moving on…” She plucked a yellow bloom from the vase and held it aloft. “Yellow is the color of happiness and friendship. If—”

Henry’s gaze was drawn to one rose in particular – a bright red blossom. Fire engine red, just like Sasha’s bikini. “I think I’ll go with this,” he said.

The girl’s eyes got wide, and her eyebrows bounced up and down. “True red. That’s the color of romantic love and undying passion. Very dramatic, yet classic at the same time.”

Very dramatic – Henry had just been thinking something similar about the girl’s rose color spiel.

“I’ll take them,” he said, suddenly sure of himself. “A whole bouquet. Just do whatever you do to make them look good.”

The girl beamed. “Do you want one or two dozen?”

“One,” he said, because he had a feeling that a dozen of the bold red flowers would convey his message just fine.

“Perfect. She’ll love them.”

He hoped so.
Thought
so, or he wouldn’t have been buying them. While he waited for the girl to assemble the bouquet, he stood with his back to the flower cooling unit, watching foot traffic stream by. Physically, he saw the middle-aged guy walking some kind of Blue Heeler mix on a leash, saw the mom shopping with twin little girls in tow.

But in his mind’s eye, all he saw was Sasha.

He had a feeling that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

* * * * *

As she walked through her front door after a long day at work, Sasha briefly considered sprinting back to her car, pressing the pedal to the floor and speeding to Henry’s house. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she didn’t sprint – not without an industrial strength sports bra on, anyway. If she simply took off running without one, she’d probably be knocked out cold by one of the girls.

That thought had her sighing as she sat her purse down on the counter. Not because she relished the thought of dangerous athletic feats, but because she could remember Henry’s hands on her body, unhooking the tricky little buckle that’d held her bikini top strap together, caressing the curves of her breasts.

God, how long would she have to wait for him to make the next move? It’d only been three days, and already, her resolve to play it cool was wavering. Would it really hurt anything if she made an impromptu appearance at his place that evening, stopped by with something good to eat and a bottle of wine?

She knew there was no way he’d turn her down. Her home cooking, alcohol and the aforementioned girls constituted a potent trinity – one Henry would surely find irresistible.

Not that there’d been any alcohol involved in their night together. No, they’d both been completely sober. If they’d acted a little intoxicated, that’d only been an effect of their natural chemistry.

Just as Sasha cast a longing glance out the window at her car, her phone rang.

Immediately, her heart skipped a beat. Could it be Henry?

She fished her phone out of her purse and answered, trying her best to sound like she wasn’t fantasizing about sprinting out of the house, sports bra be damned.

“Sasha, it’s me.”

“Oh, hi mom.” She tried to keep her disappointment out of her voice, feeling guilty over wishing Henry had called instead of her mother.

“I was just wondering whether you still plan to make the trip up here tomorrow,” her mother said. “I know you’ve been busy at work, and I hadn’t heard from you since last week…”

Sasha swore silently inside her head. “I’m sorry, mom. Of course I’m still coming. I just got caught up in everything that’s been going on and forgot to call.” Her gaze drifted toward the calendar hanging beside the fridge, settling on tomorrow’s date.

Everything inside her seemed to condense, balling up into a tangle of longing and dull-edged pain. The feeling didn’t exactly pass, just faded slowly, leaving a sense of wistfulness in its wake.

“Is everything all right? You all aren’t having trouble with anymore prison escapees down there, are you?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s been more than a month since those two broke out. You know one of them is dead, and the other is on the lam. Probably halfway around the world by now, lying low somewhere.”

“Of course. Your poor friends… Sometimes I worry about you Sasha, living so close to that prison.”

“I’m fine, mom. When I said I was busy, I only meant with work. Plus, I met a guy.” She didn’t tell her mom every time she met a new guy, but right now, she’d say just about anything to distract her from her exaggerated fears about the prison. The Levinson brothers’ escape – which had happened earlier that summer – was the first time anyone had ever escaped from the Riley Correctional Center. It would probably never happen again.

For a few minutes, they chatted about Henry. Sasha didn’t reveal much, just assured her mom that he was a nice guy, and yes, he was
very
handsome. She didn’t mention that he worked as a correctional officer at the prison.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” her mother eventually said. “I know it’s not going to be a very happy occasion, but I thought maybe we could get lunch together. Go somewhere nice. We don’t get to see each other nearly as often as I’d like.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll pick up the flowers. See you around…?”

“Eleven.”

Moments later, Sasha slipped her phone back into her purse with a sigh. Maybe it was a good thing Henry hadn’t gotten in touch with her today. She had an early morning ahead of her, and it wasn’t going to be a particularly easy day, even with a full night’s sleep.

* * * * *

The bouquet of red roses Henry had bought for Sasha trembled in the passenger seat as he made his way toward home, intent on changing out of his uniform and taking a quick shower before he went to her place. He’d strapped the vase in using the passenger side seatbelt. As long as he didn’t make any sudden stops, the flowers would be fine.

He had to remind himself of that when he saw something that made him want to slam on the brakes.

“Shit!” He threw out a hand, holding the vase against the seat as he rolled to a rushed stop. Luckily, there was no one on the road behind him. With his truck mostly on the road’s narrow shoulder, he sat and stared for half a second, a sick feeling churning in his gut.