Page 58 of SWAT

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“I thought you moved here when you were ten, how come you have Slovak military inked on your body?”

“When I was eighteen I returned to my home country for national service.”

“Surely you didn’t need to do that if you were living here and—”

“I wanted to. I wanted the experienceandthe training.”

“Oh, okay. And did you get what you wanted from it?”

“Yes.” He nodded and turned so his back was to me and reached for the shampoo.

I cupped some water in my hand, rinsed and spat. “And then you came back here to your family. I like that you did that.”

“My family aren’t here any more. When the political climate changed in Slovakia a few years ago they made a decision to move home. My father’s business had peaked and he sold it for enough money to keep them comfortable in Bardejov, the town I was born in.” He shrugged and scrubbed at his hair. “They’re happier now.”

“And you stayed here.”

“This is where my life is. I’m a SWAT officer. The people I protect are the people I grew up with. I feel it’s my duty to them.”

I reached for a towel and walked up to the cubicle.

The last of the suds were slipping down his shins and calves. “And we’re lucky to have you, officer,” I said with a smile.

He didn’t reply. Instead he stepped out, taking the towel from me. His cock wasn’t as flaccid as it had been.

Ah, so he’s not quite as cool as he pretends to be about being in here with me, naked.

“What was that?” he said, glancing at the door.

“Coms, I think.” I wandered out, sashaying my ass just a bit.

Balko was hot, and exotic, and if I was honest, he fascinated me.

I picked up my earpiece. “Chief?”

“It’s over,” he said. “Find a TV.”

“Yes, chief.” I shoved the piece under my vest and reached for a remote, flicked on the large black screen hanging on the wall over a polished grey table.

The courthouse filled the screen, and a ticker was rolling over the bottom.

Walter Riley found guilty on all counts. Life sentence doled out by presiding judge.

“Thank fuck for that,” I said. “Balko, come out here.”

I turned.

He was already standing next to me. How had I not noticed? I frowned slightly. “Look.”

“Good,” he said, folding his arms over his bare chest. “Bastard got what he deserved. Let’s hope they throw away the key.”

“I agree.” It was like a weight had been lifted off me. After my rash promise to the women of Florida and then my too-close-for-comfort encounter with a suicide vest, the situation had concluded peacefully. Justice had been served.

As I stared at the screen, watching the jubilant crowd of women on the road outside the courthouse, I became acutely aware of how close Balko was standing. The scent of shampoo swirled in my nose, and my skin reacted to the heat of his, my small hairs seeming to stand to attention.

I looked up at him.

He was staring at me with an expression I didn’t recognise on him, but damn it was sexy. With his eyebrows pulled low, a small line between them, his cheeks a little flushed and his lips parted I had the urge to trace the angles of his face.


Tags: Lily Harlem Romance