Haynes, K. R. - The Light in Her Eyes [In Her Eyes] (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

Randall didn’t even make it to his desk. Hearing his captain bellowing his name out at the top of his lungs, telling him to get his arse into his office pronto, made him curse out loud. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he headed in the direction of the captain’s office. He knew this wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit in the least.

Tapping once on the door, Randall heard the stern command to enter from his captain. Stepping inside the small office and closing the door behind him, Randall took a seat opposite the captain. The grumpy-arse bastard sat behind the beat-to-shit desk he ruled from. Randall could never understand why the grumpy old bugger even bothered to come to work or, hell, even live, for that matter. The captain was such a miserable bastard, but a goddamn good captain. Nothing got past him, that was for sure.

“Randall, explain to me why your patrol car was spotted towing a”—the captain glanced briefly down at the file on top of his desk—“a blue hatchback three nights ago.”

“The report I typed up should explain it clear enough for you, captain.”

“Don’t be smart with me, boy. I’m not in the mood for it. And your report explains shit about towing a vehicle.”

“Well, I think it explains the situation perfectly, sir.” Randall knew he was pushing the captain’s buttons, but he was in no mood to go toe to toe with the captain. Not today, not ever. Randall crossed his arms over his chest, letting the captain know, in no uncertain terms, he wasn’t planning on explaining himself or his actions from the other night any further.

Hearing the captain sighing, Randall knew the topic was now closed.

“I have to tell you, Randall, your actions the other night don’t exactly stand well for you. Not with your suspension from the Bomb Squad. Of which, I remind you, you have three weeks remaining to see out. I have a good mind to stick you on night patrol for the remainder of your suspension.”

Frustration ate at Randall. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck on the graveyard shift for the next three weeks. Nodding his head, he remained silent as the captain continued on his rant. His ears pricked up when the captain mentioned a possibility of an early recall to the Bomb Squad. Something about one of the new team members being injured last week in the line of duty. Had them down to eight men, one less than the required nine for active rostered field duty.

Strolling out of the captain’s office ten minutes later, Randall poured himself a cup of coffee in the staff room then headed to his desk. As soon as his ass hit the chair his damn desk phone started ringing. Picking up the receiver, he answered it with a terse “hello.”

“Ahh, Officer Randall?”

“Yes, who wants to know?”

“It’s, umm, Chloe. Chloe Watson. We met unceremoniously the other night.”

Shit, Chloe. She had called him. “Is everything all right, Chloe?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I just called to see…Hello? Are you still there, Officer Randall?”

“Yes, I’m still here, and please call me Randall. Jon Randall.”

“Oh, okay, sorry.”

“No need to apologise, you weren’t to know. Now what is it I can do for you as I’m rather busy?”

“I, umm…never mind. Sorry to bother you.”

Randall stared at the phone in his hand. She had hung up on him. What the fuck? Hell, he didn’t even know the reason for her call. Sure, he had been stern, even a bastard to her over the phone. He hadn’t meant to. Spending a good twenty minutes with Mr. Grumpy-arse Captain would be enough to put anyone in a foul mood. Still, Randall had no right to take it out on Chloe.

Pressing the recall button on the phone, he waited as it redialled the number Chloe had called from. Hearing the message, “This phone is either out of range or switched off,” had him slamming the receiver down, cursing out loud as he did it.

Goddamn it, Chloe could be in trouble and he had no idea what it was or where she was. He didn’t even have her contact number for fuck’s sake. Grabbing his keys out of the desk drawer, Randall pushed back on his chair and headed out to the garage to the patrol car assigned to him. He needed to drive, be somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t the station or his desk.

* * * *

Parking the patrol car back in the garage several hours later, Randall stepped out the vehicle and locked it up before heading back inside. His shift was over now. All he needed to do was complete some paperwork which wouldn’t take him too long. He had called up Mick while he had been out on patrol and they had agreed to meet up at the local pub to throw back a few beers and grab some dinner as well.

After showering and changing into to a pair of faded denim jeans and navy shirt, Randall walked out the front doors of the station and jumped into his truck and drove to the pub.

Sighting Mick’s big arse of a truck on his arrival at the pub, Randall parked his own truck in the empty spot beside it then headed inside to the front bar. He found Mick chatting up Mary J, who was working behind the bar tonight. He pulled out the stool next to his old friend and sat down. Slapping Mick on the shoulder, Randall offered up a greeting to him. “Hey, Mick. Mary J, good to see you. How are you?”

“Good now you’re here, sweetie. Can I get you a beer?”

“Please.” As Mary J went about organising his drink order, Randall turned to Mick. “So, you bring your appetite tonight?”

Mick just laughed at him. “Sure did, mate. Haven’t eaten for the last few days in preparation for this. I could practically eat a whole cow right about now.”

Randall couldn’t help but laugh at his old mate’s sense of humour. Trust Mick to put a smile on his face. “Well, I guess we better grab our beers and find a table then.”

Sitting down at the table off to the side of the bar, Randall picked up the menu and gave his order to the awaiting waitress. When both their food and drink orders were taken the waitress sauntered away.

Leaning back in his chair, Randall smirked at Mick. “So you got something going on with Mary J yet, old man?”

Mick scoffed at the question, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. “You, my friend, are treading on dangerous ground when you want to discuss another man’s sex life.”

Laughing at his old mate’s answer, or lack thereof, Randall knew when a subject was closed. And this one was definitely closed off, for now. He knew his old mate had gooey eyes for the fiery redhead behind the bar. Ever since Mary J had stomped her way through the bar in knee-high cowboy boots, short denim shorts, and a skimpy white tank top, Mick had practically drooled at the sight of her. It was only a matter of time before his old mate hooked up with that chick.

Picking up the beer in his hand, Randall guzzled the amber liquid down, revelling in the coolness of it as it cascaded down his throat. He nearly choked when he took another swig, all because he heard Mick asked him about Chloe. Shit, talk about a closed subject. Obviously something his old mate knew nothing about.

“So you going to tell me about the gorgeous thing from the other night, bro, or do I need to ask her myself the next time I see her? What was her name? Chloe, right?” Mick asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Bastard would ask her if given half the chance. Mick would probably interrogate Chloe until he had all the answers to all his questions and then some. “Nothing to tell, Mick. She’s just some chick that needed my help is all.”

“Now that’s a load of bullshit if I ever heard it.” Mick pointed his beer in Randall’s direction and said to him, “You, my friend, are lying through your teeth. You know it. I know it.”

Randall just shrugged his shoulders at him and remained silent while their food and drinks were set down in front of them.

“I’ll let your lies slide for now, Randall. But believe me, I will find out what’s between the two of you sooner or later.”

“No doubt you will, Mick. But not from me you won’t. Plus there’s nothing between us anyway.” Mick just grunted at his answer then took a swig from his beer.

With the subject of Chloe closed for the time being, Randall began to relax and enjoy himself. They ate their steaks and tossed back a couple more beers while discussing some of the issues in the force. Randall even informed Mick of his reinstatement back into the Bomb Squad team next week. He just had to pass a physical first, and then his restatement would be signed off. His old mate’s comment of “about bloody time, too, I’ll say,” had Randall smirking behind the beer he held to his lips. A couple of hours later they both said their good-byes and promised to catch up again soon.

Jumping back into his truck, Randall reversed out of the car park and headed home. It had been another longish day and he was ready for the comfort of his own bed.
He couldn’t help but think how one day soon Chloe would be lying next to him here in
his
own bed. He had no clue how that would eventuate. All he knew was his determination to win her back. To see her once again kneeling before him in her submissive pose.

Chapter Seven

Saturday night. Here she stood in her kitchen clutching a half-empty glass of wine. “What is wrong with this picture?” Chloe asked herself. Regret had already set in from not taking up the offer to join her fellow work colleagues at the local pub in Richmond. It wasn’t so much that she wouldn’t enjoy their company or a night out on the town. It’s more the fact that a certain someone wouldn’t be there. The only person Chloe found herself wanting to spend this Saturday night with was the only person who wouldn’t be there. Officer Jon Randall.

After the first disastrous phone call to him, Chloe hadn’t made any other attempt to contact him since then. This hadn’t stopped her from fantasying about him though. God, if she had to admit how many times she had fantasised about him in this last week alone, Officer Randall would probably get a restraining order against her. Truth be told, there were a lot of them. Every single one of her fantasies starring him
left her wanting more and aching way too much. Nothing worked to alleviate
the ever-present
ache between her legs. Not even her toy collection, which had grown slightly since that night Officer Randall pulled her over, eased the intense ache inside her.

Shaking her head from those wicked thoughts, Chloe needed to get out of this house of hers to find some sort of distraction. Something to take her mind off Officer Jon Randall, make her think about anything else other than fantasising about him. Even though there was little chance of that ever happening.

Walking over to her bedroom closet, Chloe quickly changed into
a pair of black hipster jeans and a figure-hugging red blouse then tied her hair back into a low ponytail and fixed up her light makeup. Slipping her feet into a pair of ruby-red ballet flats and grabbing her purse and keys from the hall table, Chloe headed out.

Jumping into her little blue bubble of a car, she pulled out onto the street, her destination the local pub the locals raved about, The Convict Inn. Finding a park not far from the pub’s front entrance and switching the engine off, Chloe sat there for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. Stepping out of the car, she locked it up and headed inside.

Hell, it was her birthday after all. She should be out celebrating.

Strolling up to an empty stool at the bar, she took a seat. Ordering a house white from the pretty young redhead behind the bar, Chloe couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. She let her eyes wander around the bar, taking in the scenes around her. No one here seemed to be anyone she knew.

For some dumb reason, Chloe had hoped to run into Officer Randall tonight. She had heard that this pub was a favourite watering hole for the local cops here in town. That’s why she had chosen this one to come to tonight, in the hopes of seeing him in the flesh. No such luck though.

“There you go, sweetie,” the pretty redhead said as she plonked the glass of white wine down in front of her.

“Thank you.” Taking a sip from her glass, Chloe continued her perusal of the pub and its patrons.

“I haven’t seen you in here before. Are you new in town, sweetie?” the pretty redhead said as Chloe paid for her drink.

Turning her attention back to the woman behind the bar, Chloe answered the question aimed at her. “Yes, I’m new to the area.”

The barmaid stuck out her hand then. “Mary J’s the name. It’s a pretty friendly pub we have here. The locals are fairly well behaved, but should you run into any trouble just holler.”

Chloe shook the redhead’s hand with her own and replied politely, “Chloe Watson, and thank you, Mary J. I appreciated it.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Chloe. Sing out when you want another drink.”

“Will do.” Taking another sip of wine, Chloe turned slightly on her stool to peruse the folks gathered around the tables scattered around the bar. A twinge of sadness stabbed at her chest when her eyes fell on all the loving couples swaying their bodies close to each other on the dance floor. Chloe knew that each of those couples dancing out there on the floor tonight wouldn’t notice anyone else around them. Nothing else existed around you when you were in the arms of the one you loved with your whole heart and soul, a feeling Chloe had longed to experience once again.