Kiss From a Rose Read Free Page A

need the bullshit McMillian could dish out before he even got a chance to really know Jenna.
    “She was too much like Shelly, I think.”
    “I thought that was what you liked.”
    “Past tense, McMillian. I’m not a really into that type of girl anymore.” He couldn’t help appreciating that Jenna Turner didn’t flip out when it sometimes took him a while to return a call or text message.
    “I’ve got a dozen cousins man. They are all sexy. You can’t tell me Jenna wasn’t sexy.”
    “There are so many things wrong with that statement I can’t begin to tell you.”
    “What?” he asked, actually confused.
    Marcus’ phone vibrated and he saw a blushing yellow smiley face emoticon that rolled on its back as little hearts floated out of it. He’d outdone himself this morning replaying his dream to her in text form. Normally when he was on rotation he would just crash and sleep hard for three or four hours, then be up and unable to sleep until the end of his next shift. He never dreamed. It was recharge and go. Not this week. This week he made sure he’d checked in with Jenna.
    It made him nervous that she seemed to be in the office until close to midnight most nights. He asked if the security guards would escort her to her car and she said no.
    “We’ve seen an increase in vehicle break-ins right after dusk.” Sergeant O’Leary began the briefing. “It’s getting dark earlier and we all know what that means.”
    “Teenagers get bold,” Larson blurted.
    Marcus stifled his shiver. Having been cleared of a shooting only a few months ago, teens had become his Achilles heel. He hated hunting down vandals and car thieves whose voices hadn’t even dropped yet. The chair on the other side of him screeched as his partner, Les Noonan, finally showed up.
    Les was everything a cop should be and had been Marcus’ mentor for most of his career. Sure Les had only been on the force five years before Marcus became his partner, but he had an ease to him that could calm the most irate of suspects. With his traditional high and tight he maintained probably from birth, he made sure Marcus stayed in shape both physically and mentally. Why he never wanted to do anything but be a patrolman was beyond Marcus’ comprehension. He’d give anything to see captain’s bars on Les’ uniform and once the next round of openings in homicide came up, Les would be the only thing he missed if his promotion went through.
    “’Bout time,” Marcus chided his gray eyed friend out of the corner of his mouth.
    “You were right about that Hmong place last night.” Les placed his hand on his gut. “My cheat day charged me in ways I never saw coming.”
    “You got that under control? It is too damn cold to keep the windows down and you know I can only entertain the female clerks at the gas station for so long.”
    “Please, they’d love it if you parked your chocolate ass there all night.”
    “Fine, but if we spend half the shift 10-7 because you’re dropping loads around the East Side, it’ll be suspect.”
    “Noonan. Peterson,” O’Leary barked. “We know you two love whispering sweet nothings to each other, but save it for when you’re alone in your car together.”
    “It’s not the same since you stopped providing the script,” Noonan’s deep baritone voice seemed to echo off the walls. “Your erotic poetry gets Peterson so damn hot it’s all I can do to keep him off me.”
    “One day Noonan you’ll be as deep as I am.”
    “That’s what he said.”
    The room, that had been stifling a laugh since Sarg called them out, erupted in laughter.
    “Get all your perverted asses out there and relieve the day shift coffee drinkers.”
    “Yes, Sir,” the room said as they all took their leave.
    O’Leary came up to Les and Marcus and pulled them aside.
    “Noonan, show some respect. Someday you may be stuck up there with a group of assholes not payin’ attention.”
    “That’d never happen to me O’Leary.”
    “Oh