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I knew better than to play that game. I glared at him.
“Is there a problem here?”
The voice came from behind Blake, low and authoritative.
I looked past him and felt my chest loosen. Lane Daniels stood there in full uniform, one hand resting on his duty belt.
Blake turned, posture changing immediately. “No problem, officer. We’re just talking.”
“Didn’t look like talking.” Lane’s gaze flicked to me. “Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”
I nodded.
“Sir, I need you to step away from the lady.”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Blake protested, but moved back from her cart.
Lane lifted a dark brow. “It looked like you were blocking her path and holding her cart after she asked you to leave her alone.”
Blake glanced between us.
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Wasn’t worth it, anyway. Fat bitch.”
He stalked off, boot heels pounding on the tile.
Lane watched him go, jaw tight, then looked back at me. “Are you okay?”
I let out a breath, my face burning with Blake’s last insult. Yeah, I’d heard it before, but it still pissed me off. “Yeah. Thank you.”
“I was picking up Pop-Tarts.” He gestured to the discarded basket on the floor, looking almost embarrassed. “Remy won’t eat anything else for breakfast this week.”
Despite everything, my lips twitched. “Strawberry?”
“Brown sugar cinnamon.”
“Good choice.”
My shoulders were tight. I straightened and consciously relaxed.
“She slept through the night last night,” he said. “First time in weeks.”
That really did make me happy. “That’s wonderful! I thought it would just be a matter of time before she bounced back.”
“I should follow you out,” Lane said. “Make sure that guy’s gone.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know. But I’m going to.”
And just like that, the professional boundary I’d been careful to maintain felt less solid.
Chapter 4
Lane
* * *
I should have gone home.
