Dad’s Policeman Friend by Lena Little
3
Caden
“You okay, Captain?” Harris asks, leaning against the squad car as we wait to turn in our ride at the motor pool after a night on the beat. “You haven’t been yourself since that B&E we looked into at your buddy’s house.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I snap, clearly not.
Harris takes a step back and raises his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to bite my head off. I’m just trying to help.”
I exhale hard, not realizing I was holding my breath. “You’re right. My bad. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” Harris goes to leave. “You want me to put in my report that we drove up and down that block fifty-seven times.”
“It wasn’t that many.”
“I counted. It was.”
“Just put it as patrolling and keeping that neighborhood safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
And with that Harris leaves and I hand over the keys to the motor pool attendant and move toward my locker inside to change into civilian clothes. I told Camila I need to debrief, but I had no idea it meant I was going to need to take my boxer briefs off and relieve myself in the men’s shower after the changeover. No way in hell I can do that, but damn do my balls ever feel heavy.
I’ve never felt like this before. Never. The nature of my job requires me to protect, but something about Camila has cranked it up to another notch. Maybe these paternal vibes I’m feeling are because my best friend isn’t here and I need to watch out for his kid.
But she’s not a kid.
I shake my head, trying to focus on something else but I just can’t. All I can think of is that girl’s, that young woman’s, perfect body in the bathtub…and how much I wanted to join her in it.
It was only for a split second, but I saw those perfect little mounds on her tiny frame. When she snapped that curtain clean off the rod I wanted to put her over my knee and scold her, tell her to never cover her perfect self in front of me again. Ever.
I’ve seen part of her but I need to see all, but I know it won’t just stop at looking. I need her and without her, I suddenly feel like a fish out of water. I scrape a hand over the back of my neck and change out of my clothes real quick, racing to get to my personal automobile and get to Camila’s, I mean Chris’s, house.
My foot feels like it’s filled with lead as I navigate the streets making my way back from the spot I apparently patrolled fifty-seven times in one night. Fifty-seven times and it felt like maybe five at most. I could get written up or reprimanded for that behavior. I need to be keeping an eye on the entire city, not just one block.
And what if Harris would have laid eyes on Camila? Then what? It’s not like I could punch him out when we’re on duty, not to mention it wouldn’t have even been his fault. It would have been mine for not keeping her body covered. I’m the only one who gets to see her like that. Ever.
The steering wheel creaks under my grasp and I look down and notice my fingers are wrapped around it so tightly my knuckles are turning white.
I round the corner to her house and my cell phone rings in the center console. It’s a ring tone that only one person has because I chose it specifically so I’d know to take their calls.
I know the number but I still look at the name on the caller ID anyway, as if doing so is somehow going to make it change.
I hit the green button and accept the call. “Chris,” I say into the receiver. “How’s the business trip?”
“Hey, brother. Going good, but that’s not why I called you. Just wanted to say thanks for swinging by my place last night and checking up on things.”
“Oh, you heard?” I ask, my voice flat not trying to give away any clues as to how he might know I was by his place last night, although the answer seems obvious.
“Yeah, Camila told me you came in ready to stop a breaking and entering only to discover her.”
“Yeah. I was as shocked as she was.” But at least I had my clothes on. Does Chris know that?
“That’s what she said. Said she’d just got home and you caught her within five minutes of entering the house. You must have been keeping a close eye on it. I owe you, buddy.”
“Don’t mention it.” There’s a lump in my throat that I can’t quite swallow down. Yeah, I was keeping a good eye on your house, and an even better one after I knew Camila was there.
“Glad to know I can always count on one person in this world.”
“Damn straight,” I respond, and then there’s a weird pause in the conversation.
“Whatchu getting into today?”
“Boo!” I turn to my side and see Camila standing there, her thumbs in her ears waving her fingers as her face is nearly pressed against the windshield. I drop the phone and quickly fumble for it on the floorboard. I’m too big to just bend over and grab it, my six foot six inch frame unable to fold in half like that. I open the door and she takes a step back.
“Ready to go?” she asks, and as I reach down to swipe my phone from the ground I see my hand shaking. I grab the device and then twist my watch on my wrist, for no reason whatsoever other than trying to calm myself down. I never get rattled. Never.
But this situation is more dangerous to me than a hostage negotiation because my mind is flying through possibilities, rapidly debating how I’m going to mediate this situation between the girl on my left, that has brought out a need in me like never before, and my best friend on the phone, who is trusting me in a time of need. And a big part of that trust extends to not laying a finger on his daughter. It goes without being said.
“Is that Cam’s voice?” he says as I pick up the phone. “Caden, are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Chris.” My voice is shaky, my foot bouncing up and down on the floorboard like I’m going to wear a hole through it. I adjust the collar of my shirt, trying to get some air but there’s none to be found.
“Oh. You’re…back at the house?”
“Yeah. She’s home alone so I figured I’d come by and check up on her. Take her out to breakfast.”
“Thanks, man. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll have her back home in a couple of hours.” I freeze up, realizing it sounds like I’m taking her on a date. Chris doesn’t pick up on it at all because he trusts me completely. But why don’t I trust myself?
“Well, I’ll let you two get at it.”
The irony of his words isn’t lost on me. “Thanks, man. Good luck with everything. Catch you later.”
I end the call and Camila is already around the other side of the car, letting herself inside the passenger side door, the smell of flowers and watermelon bubble gum assaulting me, making my pants tighter than they already are.
“You told your dad about last night?”
“I know. I wanted to surprise him, but he already knew. Apparently, he installed a tracker on my phone without my knowledge so he knew where I was. He hid the app in an app drawer so I never saw it.”
I just nod.
“So,” she says, her body straightening up as she claps her two hands together. “Ready to get something to eat. I’m starving.”
I try and look her up and down with a disapproving look, cocking my eyebrow. “What happened to a jacket and long pants.”
“I checked the forecast. Says it’s going to be sunny and well above eighty today. It’s already in the seventies. I won’t need a jacket…” she pauses, wrapping a lock of hair around her index finger and twisting it, “unless you plan on hanging out longer than just breakfast.”
Hanging out? She’s using words like I’m one of her friends, but her tone and body language say anything but.
If I tell her she needs to go back inside and cover up she’s going to think I’m her dad. I am her dad, or at least his representative in this situation. Or at least I should be, but the ability to be her chaperone slipped through my fingers long ago. I’m no longer here on a friendly mission. I’m here to let her know what’s mine.
You’re too old for her, Caden. She’s your best friend’s daughter. Just take her for this one breakfast, play it cool, and bring her back. Don’t try and come down on her with rules and regulations on how she needs to dress. Yet.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I agree, deciding right then and there we aren’t going to go where I had planned. We’re going to go to one of those frou-frou bakery places where there will be no men or boys, or at least not straight ones. Problem solved…for now.
I hope.
