"Better luck next time, Street," Chris said, snatching a ten-dollar bill from Reagan.
Street shook his head and stepped back from where he'd just arm wrestled with Luca. "One of these days, man…"
"Keep dreaming," Luca said with a laugh.
"So no one thought to warn me that Luca here is a beast? Because that's ten bucks I'm never getting back," Reagan said.
Luca put a hand to his chest. "I'm hurt that you hadn't noticed that by now."
She scoffed and smacked him on the arm.
He laughed again. "Why don't you give it a shot? I'll pay you back the money you lost…"
"Hah!" she yelled. "My dignity is worth much more than that. I'll pass, thank you very much."
The thwack of a driver against a golf ball caught Reagan's attention. She glanced up at the concrete ledge above them. Deacon watched his ball sail through the night sky until it got swallowed by the darkness.
Deciding that she'd lost enough money, she made her way up the old escalator and walked over to stand behind him. She let her gaze wander over the mall ruins below. She'd forgotten about this place. Her mom had brought her here once to meet Santa when she was a kid, but the rise of online shopping and strip malls put it out of business. Some of it had been demolished, the rest left to go back to nature.
"Beautiful night," Reagan said, taking in the huge swath of stars over the glittering city.
"It is," Deacon replied, and hit another ball.
She admired the turn of his athletic body and impeccable form. She didn't need to know much about golf to know that he was doing it right.
"You wanna try?" he asked suddenly without looking at her. He set up another ball.
She let out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Uhh…I'm better at spectating. Golf and I have never agreed."
"Oh come on," he said, turning toward her with a gentle smile. "I'm told that I'm a pretty good teacher."
Reagan chewed on her bottom lip in self-doubt, but found herself moving toward him like a magnet. She sighed, then shrugged. "Okay, help a girl out."
His handsome smile pulled up at the corner and he handed her the golf club. She stood parallel to the tee and lined up the driver. Then his large hands were on her waist—lightly—but just enough for her heart to lodge in her throat.
"All right," he murmured, his voice silky in the humid air, which suddenly seemed warmer to her. "Feet hip-width apart. Hold the club out like this. Then turn your waist as you bring it back…" He briefly tightened his grip, helping her turn. "And then swing through, turning your hips and pivoting your back foot."
They did a dry run and then he stepped back, giving Reagan plenty of space. She ran through the steps in her mind, but all she could focus on was the absence of his strong, warm hands on her body.
When she finally hit the ball, it flew downward diagonally, striking the concrete column next to everyone below. It ricocheted off and smacked into the side of Deacon's car, leaving a small dent.
As everyone yelled in alarm, Reagan gasped and turned back to him. "I'm so sorry!"
Deacon laughed. "Don't worry about it. My car already has a variety of dings—hazards of the job. Why don't you give it another try?"
Her eyes were wide. "Do you think that's safe?"
"Yeah, is that safe?" Street shouted from down below, teasing.
They both ignored him and Deacon gestured for her to go ahead. She teed up another ball, took a deep breath and felt her focus fall in to place. She hit the ball just as she was supposed to, sending it to the far edge of the mall lot.
Reagan whirled toward him in excitement as Deacon said, "You did it! That was great!"
Next thing she knew, she was in his arms, spinning around. She hung on tightly until he set her down. Her arms stayed around his neck for a moment and their smiles slid away.
"Nice one, Cas!" Hondo hollered.
His voice broke through their trance, and Deacon was the first to move back, clearing his throat in the process. "I knew you could do it," he said quietly, acting as if they hadn't just held each other intimately.
"I had a pretty good teacher," she reminded him. "Speaking of, do you use that move on all your girlfriends? The hands on the waist thing?"
Deacon frowned at her forward question. "No." He glanced at the group below and lowered his voice. "And you're not my girlfriend, Reagan."
Her expression clouded over as she whispered, "You're right. I'm not."
He stepped toward her, sighing. "Hey, I'm sorry…"
Beep, beep, beep.
One by one, everyone's phones went off, the equivalent of their Bat-Signal.
"Time to go!" Hondo announced.
As Deacon and Reagan hurried down the escalator, he said, "We'll talk more about this later."
She didn't look at him as she replied, "There's nothing to talk about, Deke," and climbed into her car, missing the sullen expression on his face.
The team blazed down the road in Black Betty, Luca behind the wheel. Deacon popped a magazine into his weapon and loaded a round into the chamber. He looked across the short space and watched Reagan do the same. She glanced at him through her clear tactical glasses, but only for a brief second.
"Okay," he began, "we have our three jewelry heist suspects holed up in a one-story house. We expect them to be armed and dangerous, so we're going in with force. Myself, Street and Cassie will go in the front. Luca, Chris and Hondo take the back. Got it?"
He knew Reagan would notice that he'd put her on his team this time. He wasn't letting her out of his sight, which wasn't the smartest decision—personal in a professional environment—but he didn't care. If something happened to her, it would be on him and no one else.
"Stay liquid. Fill the gaps," he said, reminding them of their SWAT mantra.
The team arrived two houses down and hoofed it from there, not wanting to draw attention. They stayed in a straight line and moved quickly, yet quietly. When they arrived at the house, the latter three hurried to the back door as Deacon's team waited at the front.
"30-David in position," Hondo whispered after a few seconds.
"22-David, hang back for rabbits," Deacon said, which told Luca to stay by the door in case one of the suspects tried to make a run for it.
"Roger that," Luca replied.
"20-David going in," Deacon announced.
Street muscled the battering ram up to the front door and, on Deacon's go, swung it into the wooden surface. The door splintered and flew open. Deacon headed in first, followed by Reagan, and then Street once he'd discarded the ram. A middle-aged man sleeping on the couch immediately jumped up, grabbing for a handgun on the coffee table.
"Gun!" Deacon yelled, and fired two rounds center-mass.
Reagan checked the body to make sure he wasn't getting back up and kicked his gun away.
"One suspect down," Deacon stated.
Meanwhile, Street cleared the kitchen on the other side of the open-concept room.
"Gimme two!" Deacon said as he waited by the doorway that led to the hall.
Reagan returned to her spot behind him and slapped him twice on the shoulder. Street backed up Reagan and they proceeded down the hallway. They heard shots coming from one of the bedrooms, then, "Second suspect down."
Someone darted across the hall and disappeared into the adjacent room. He didn't appear to be armed, but they wouldn't let their guard down.
"Suspect three is on the move…"
Deacon kicked open the door and Reagan moved in first. The suspect was in the process of climbing through a window.
"Rabbit! Southeast window!" Reagan yelled.
The three advanced forward, hearing a shout and a thud at the same time.
"Got the rabbit," Luca announced, out of breath.
Deacon relaxed his shoulders and then pressed the communication button on his vest. "20-David to command: Two suspects down, one in custody—requesting transport."
When the suspect was taken away by an LAPD black and white, Deacon turned to his crew and smiled. "Good work, guys."
"And girls," Chris prompted as she fist-bumped Reagan.
"Yeah, good job, rook," Luca said, throwing her a chin tilt.
"See, Cas?" Street said, smiling. "I didn't get you shot this time."
"Man, why you gotta say shit like that?" Luca asked. "It's bad luck."
"Isn't it bad luck to say that it's bad luck?" he pointed out.
Before they could get into it, Deacon intervened. "All right, come on. Let's get back so we can go home and get some rest before the sun comes up."
Everyone piled into Black Betty and changed back at headquarters. When Deacon got out to the parking garage, he happened to spot Reagan putting her stuff in her car, not far from his own.
Before he could think better of it, he called out to her.
When she saw him, a flash of apprehension crossed her features. Then, she asked, "Yeah, boss?"
"You did good out there today."
"Thanks. I'm glad I was able to show what I can do." She gave him a tight smile and started to open her car door. "Night, Deke."
Deacon's heart began to race and he glanced at the ground, before saying, "Hey, listen…"
She stopped with her hand on the door and looked back at him after a moment of hesitation.
"Do you want to get a drink with me?" he asked.
Her brows jumped up. "Right now?"
He swallowed the knot in his throat. "Yeah… Sorry, I know it's late. I just…think we really need to talk."
Reagan squinted at her watch and said, "O'Malley's is already closed for the night."
Deacon sighed. "You're right—"
"But I have another idea."
He waited for her response, finally asking, "Okay…?"
"Follow me," she said, and got into her car.
Deacon agreed and got behind the wheel of his own car. He was curious as to where she was taking them, but in this moment of recklessness, he would follow her anywhere.
It didn't take long for him to figure out where they were going, though.
He pulled into Reagan's driveway and parked behind her, but didn't get out.