Rolling a dog from the warmer onto the grill, I said, “Not giving away. Buying.”
He shrugged, still looking everywhere but at me. “Same diff to me. Either way, I get a free lunch.”
“How do you figure?” I scooped onions onto the grill. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d like onions. “That nice woman and her son came to my rescue. What have you done for me?”
He turned his head, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? How about every time I’ve?—”
I waved my spatula in the air to shut him up. “Fine. I’ll buy.” Shit. I was losing money by working. “How’s my little buddy?”
He grinned and my stomach dropped. “I’m doing great. Thanks for asking.”
A gust of laughter broke free. More of the tension I’d been holding drained away. “Not you, you ass. Chaucer. How’s my dog?”
“Oh, him.” Aiden leaned his back against the side of the truck, arms crossed in front of him, biceps straining against his shirt. Not that I was looking.
“Well?” My eyes were back on the grill, where they belonged.
“Hell, I don’t know. I don’t have time to worry about your damn dog. I put him in the cell in back. You can pick him up when you’re done here.”
I looked around for what I had that was big and long enough to hit him in the head with.
“Strange. I don’t hear the spatula scraping across the grill anymore. Let me warn you, if you attempt to hit me with anything in that truck, I’ll put you in a cell, too.” When he turned his head to study me, I slowly lowered my raised arm. “Chop-chop. How long does it take to cook a hot dog?”
I considered pulling the three-year-old sauerkraut out of the trash but thought better of it. Instead, I dumped some jalapeños on the grill. I layered the jalapeños on the bun before I added the hot dog and chili, thereby hiding them. I sprinkled cheese and onions on top and then handed it to the ass.
“Mmm, looks good.” He stared at me for a moment. “Don’t I get a drink, too?”
I considered whether or not I could unscrew the water bottle cap and spit into it before handing it to him. He was watching me like a hawk, so probably not. Damn it. “Here,” I said as I passed him the cold bottle.
“Good choice.”
I wiped down the grill. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You realize that every thought you have is written all over your face, right?”
Ignoring him, I turned my back and drank from my own water bottle. I was trying to keep my water consumption to a minimum. If I needed to pee, I’d have to sprint across the park. The restroom facilities were on the far side, past the huge open green, the fountain, the arbor. I crossed my legs, pressure building. I turned to watch Aiden eat his jalapeño-surprise hot dog in a few huge bites.
“Mmm, I love jalapeños. How’d you know?” He wiped his mouth, crumpled up his napkin, and threw it in the trash.
Figures. “Can you do me a favor, Aiden?”
He spread his arms wide. “My being here is a favor. I’m the chief of police, and yet here I stand to make sure a sauerkraut maniac isn’t harassing you. I have your dog in my station. I’m paying to have your house rid of an ungodly number of forest animals. What the hell more do you want, woman?”
“Can you just watch the truck while I run over to the bathroom?”
He stared at me for a moment before pointing at the cupcake shop. “Trudy has a restroom.”
“Strangely enough, she doesn’t like me.” I scrambled over the passenger seat in the truck cab and ran across the park toward the bathroom.
“Shocker,” Aiden shouted after me.
Buttmunch.
I strolled back, taking the leisurely, scenic route, and noticed a line of people waiting at the truck. Crap.
“Hey, Chief. You moonlighting in food service these days?” someone teased.
“I hope you’ve gotten better at this than you were in high school. I got the runs after you made me an undercooked hot dog,” another man said.
