the phone to his ear. Pretending he was on a call, he said, âYou two got pretty strong chemistry.â
âYeah, thatâs for sure. And I care about her. But it wouldnât be fair to her. I canât come and go in her life. Sheâs not that kind of woman. She wants stability, peace. She doesnât want some guy who spends his life like this.â He gestured around the grungy bar.
âYou plan on doing this for the rest of your life?â
âDonât know what else Iâd do.â
âDonât see the basketball thing working for you?â
Jake snorted. âGuess I donât see myself as a parent. Most parents fuck up their kidsâ lives. Donât want any part of that.â
Nor did Jamal. Karen seemed to think heâd be an okay dad, but Jake had known him way longer. âYou think Iâd fuck up my kidâs life?â he asked, still pretending to be on the phone.
Jake pondered. âYouâd try not to. Besides, seems to me Karenâs got her head on pretty straight.â
Jamal couldnât hold back a grin. âSo youâre seeing me and Karen?â
âArenât you?â
âWhite gal,â he pointed out.
âDidnât seem to bother her. Does it bother you?â
âNah. Poor mongrel kids, though. White, black, and Latino.â
âCould be pretty.â Jake grinned. âIf they take after Karen, not you.â
And that was the truth. Noting the college kid returning, Jamal lowered his phone and pretended to find another number as he surreptitiously snapped more shots. Kid was sniffing like heâd tried out a sample. He joined his friends, said something, and they abandoned their pool game and headed for the door. Mission accomplished. The two gang members took a corner table.
Jamal put his phone away. âFree table. Shoot some pool?â Itâd keep them occupied while they kept an eye on the Black Devils.
âWhy not?â Jake rose. Then he leaned over and muttered, âWhen you go to Caribou Crossing, get Karen to take you line dancing.â
âLine dancing?â Now that, he had some trouble with. Basketball, yeah; line dancing, not so much. âBrooke do that?â
âSheâs good.â
âBet sheâs good at most anything she chooses to do.â
âThatâs the truth.â Jake finished his beer.
âNever saw you like that with anyone before.â
âLike what?â
Jamal searched for words. Unfamiliar ones. âRelaxed. Happy.â
Jake frowned, then said, âGet us some more drinks, will ya? Iâll grab the table before someone else gets it.â
Chapter 6
Karen walked back to the detachment on a Thursday morning after a quick coffee break with Brooke Kincaid. She was glad the two of them had become friends, but they needed to stop talking about Jamal and Jake. In more than a month, thereâd been no contact from either man. Though Brooke asserted that she and Jake had enjoyed a good time and agreed to end it, he was clearly still on her mind. As for Jamal, that night Karen and he had talked and kissed had obviously meant more to her than it had to him.
Vowing to put him out of her mind, Karen strode into the detachment. Her detachment, until a replacement for Miller was put in place. The phone on her desk was ringing. âCorporal MacLean.â
âKaren MacLean.â A male voice, molasses rich, caressed the four syllables.
Jamal! His name almost burst out on a gush of excitement but she managed to hold back. Likely this was a business call. Briskly, she said, âJamal? What can I do for you?â
âSay that youâll see me.â
âI, uh . . .â Sheâd made it clear she was only interested in a real relationship and heâd said he had some thinking to do. If he wanted to see her . . . Her heart skipped.
âJake and I are in Winnipeg. Been doing a U/C assignment.â
âOh?â Was
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