9. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Joe Armstrong was pumped. He looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of his wardrobe door. Black shiny leather boots. Pants with a sharp crease up the front. The belt, heavy and satisfying, weighed down with the tools of the trade. The lapels on his sky-blue cotton shoulders. The hat. He grinned at himself. Then he quickly furrowed his brow, practicing his serious face, the one he’d use when he got to say words like you’re under arrest.

“Bye mum,” he called as he ducked out the front door, moving fast to avoid the breakfast she’d been trying to push down his throat and the kiss goodbye he knew she would aim for. He was twenty-three years old and as of today he was a goddamned police officer. She was bloody embarrassing, that’s what she was.

He got into his car. It felt weird driving the old Honda in his uniform. He was looking forward to getting around in a real squad car again, this time as a fully qualified officer. It was a great feeling: watching the heads snap up from the footpath at his presence, the other cars around him slowing down, people everywhere suddenly on their best behaviour knowing he had his eyes on them.The beat-up maroon model he was in right now didn’t quite seem dignified somehow.

He checked his watch.He was due at the Silverbloom Police Station at nine a.m and he’d planned to drive straight there. He’d arrive early, but that was the right thing to do on a first day, showing he was good and keen. But now, with his stomach was churning with hunger and nerves, he wished he’d eaten what his mum had made him. After all, he was a country copper; who knows where he’d find himself by lunchtime? Catching sight of the Ribbonwood General Store he pulled in and parked.

As he approached the entrance, he groaned inwardly. The sign on the door said closed. He stared at it in dismay, but just as he turned to leave in defeat he saw movement within and the sign get flipped to open. With a grin of relief - today really was his day - he pushed the door.

“ Jesus christ,” came a sharp voice from mere inches away and Joe nearly had a heart attack. A woman was staring at him, wide-eyed, her hand resting on her…spectacular upper chest. Oh fuck, Joe stared back. He’d heard talk of Lara Bennett, had even glimpsed her a few times before, his mates in high school slapping each other on the back and nodding towards the older woman as she passed them by at the Ribbonwood Fair. This was the first time he’d seen her up this close and he swallowed hard. She was legendary for a reason, he realised with a flash of dizziness. She was stupidly hot.

“Uh, hi! I mean, good morning.” Joe quickly deepened his voice. He was a police officer; a man in uniform. Women liked that. He’d done okay before, but now… well, Joe’s whole life was about to change. He gave Lara a suave grin. She stood quite still and watched him. Joe let his chest puff out. “I didn’t meant to give you a fright,” he said generously. She was so petite and pretty and Joe was a cop. He wanted to impress her but he didn’t want to intimidate her with his presence.

“Late for a doughnut were you?” Lara raised her smooth eyebrows, recovering her equilibrium surprisingly fast. Joe frowned. She gave him a guileless smile and for a second he was lost in the sky blue of her eyes. He decided not to take offence. He also decided not to buy the chocolate milk he’d been planning on.

“Uh no,” he stood his ground, taking her all in. “Just a quick breakfast before a busy day.”

“Mmhm,” she said. “Take your time then.” He watched Lara walk away down the aisle, the sway of her hips just… obvious. Blood rushed to his crotch and he diverted his gaze quickly before his pants could tighten. Overeager teenage boy wasn’t the look he was going for, after all. He cleared his throat and made his selection carefully. A banana. A fancy protein bar. An iced coffee: much more manly and grownup than the chocolate milk he actually wanted. He sauntered up to the counter, the creak of his new leather boots satisfying as he crossed the wooden floor boards.

Lara was behind the counter now. She looked up at his approach. He couldn’t quite read the look in her eyes, but he was pretty sure she was impressed as he laid his selection next to the register .

“Find everything you needed?” she asked him, her eyelashes rising, and fuck was she hitting on him? There was just something about her; everything she said sounded so sexy. She was older than him for sure, but he could look past that on this one occasion. He’d heard it said that older women were wild when you got them into bed. Grateful, right? Joe wasn’t exactly that experienced but he knew he could show Lara a good time. A fit young stud like him? A police officer? Fuck, he loved that this was his job.

“Almost,” he said back, his gaze teasing.

“Oh?” She had to look up to meet his eyes and he liked it.

“Just need your phone number and I’m good.” He raised his eyebrows challengingly, proud of himself for the smoothness of his approach. He sounded confident as hell and he liked it.

Lara cocked her head, a lock of her silky hair falling over her shoulder.

“Oh honey,” she said softly, “I’d break you. Stick to girls your own age.” There was a sass to her words. She was playing hard to get, clearly. Break him ? He wasn’t entirely sure what that would entail, but he very much wanted to find out.

“I can handle myself,” he insisted, deepening his voice further. She laughed. He looked at her slightly closer. Suddenly he understood that it wasn’t a flirty laugh; it was like she was she laughing at him. He flushed. “Give me your number.” The words came out abrupt, almost angry. It covered his embarrassment at least.

The last remnant of Lara’s sparkle vanished.

“Is that supposed to be an order, officer?” Her voice was calm but he felt the accusing note.

“Hey, wait a minute-”

“No, you wait.” Her voice had gotten even softer and for some reason all the more intimidating because of it. “How long have you been a cop? Five minutes?” His face went redder, all but confirming the accusation. She watched his expression almost sympathetically. “A little advice? Just because you’re wearing the uniform doesn’t mean you need to be a bully as well.”

As well? Wow. He could see what she thought of police officers, loud and clear. Offence swirled tightly in his gut, despite the gentleness of her tone. Where did she get off being so condescending? He was here to protect and serve, goddamnit! She might find herself needing to call 000 one day and you know she’d expect help just like the next person, even as she stood right there, mocking the police to his face. He wasn’t going to stand for this. Start out the way you intend to progress, right ?

“Listen here,” he started, “that’s-”

“Honey,” she interrupted him. “We’re done here. Off you trot.” She gave a little flick of her fingers in dismissal and he heard a titter behind him. He jerked his head and saw Millie Robinson, his brother’s ex-girlfriend standing there with a bottle of milk in her hand, her eyes amused. He felt his blush turn to dark red.

“That’s enough,” he snapped, at Lara, at Millie, at every woman who’d ever laughed at him. He shrivelled, anger welling up inside him.

“Or you’ll arrest me?” Lara raised her eyebrows. “Well that’s just adorable.” She shot an exasperated look over his shoulder at Millie and unable to take it any more he turned and stormed out of the store. He gunned the car down the main street, hurtling towards the back road, towards Silverbloom, toward his destiny. He was going to get some power in this fucking town and Lara Bennett would regret the day she laughed at him.

Goddamnit he’d forgotten his chocolate milk. Iced coffee. Fuck!