“Yeah, well, I’m busy, too.”

“And I’m busy with cows.”

“Moo,” she said.

“That is absurd.”

“Yep.”

“And cute,” he said, trying to get a handle on the heat firing through his veins.

Then her cheeks turned pink, a smile curving her lips. “Aw, you think I’m cute.”

“I think puppies are cute, too. Don’t go getting a big head.”

“And cats?”

He shook his head. “You know I don’t think cats are cute.”

“Which is another reason we shouldn’t have sex, is that right? Because I love cats. Not just Toby. I love every kind of cat.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Also, you’re humorless.”

“Untrue.”

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and leaned back on her heels. “Is it? Tell me a joke.”

“I’m not going to tell you a joke.”

“So you are humorless.”

He paused for a second, genuinely considering telling her one just to get her off his back and prove that he had humor, dammit. But then for some reason, he could think of only one joke. And it was...well, not the kind of joke he should tell.

“Well?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “What’s the difference between snow boys and snow girls?”

“What?” she asked, smiling wide.

He sighed heavily. “Snowballs.”

“Ha! You said balls. Also, that is a terrible joke.”

“It’s the only one I could think of.”

“I don’t think that counts toward proving your point.”

“Of course you don’t, because if it does, I win.”

“I don’t think a bad joke constitutes as a win for any involved. Are you going to stand here all day? Because I have posters to hang.”

He frowned. “And I have a job to do.”

“Are you not patrolling the streets?”

“I should be out doing traffic stops.”

“Doesn’t that just make you feel like a dick?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve lost too many people to road accidents. If I make someone mad because I pull them over or give them a ticket, that’s not really my problem. Or my concern. My concern is that they live to drive another day, as do the other people they share the highway with.”

He was annoying himself with how obnoxious he sounded, how serious and in general downbeat. Especially when talking to Sadie, who seemed to be all smiles and laughter, except when he messed with things. He was the bad guy in this scenario and he didn’t particularly like it.

“Fair enough,” she said, her voice softening. “I’m sorry, that was kind of insensitive of me.”

“Why would you ever connect doing traffic stops with the people I’ve lost? It’s my own particular issue. It has nothing to do with you.”

“We all have issues, right? And I get that you want to take care of everyone,” she said, biting her lip. “It’s pretty obvious that you really do care a lot for the people in your life. And the people here, which I think I owe you an apology about, but more on that later.”

“When later?”

“When I feel like eating dirt. Right now I don’t really want to because I’m hanging posters and I feel bad enough for saying what I did about the traffic stops.”

“Don’t feel bad,” he said, and he meant it.

She looked at him expectantly.

“What?” he asked.

She blinked. “What do you mean, what? I said I owed you an apology for saying bad things about you. Don’t you owe me one?”

“I think you’ve said a lot worse things to me than I have to you,” he said, frowning.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, and anyway, most of what I said was true.”

She blinked rapidly. “Excuse me?” And she was pointing the staple gun in his direction, with what appeared to be intent.

“Sadie...”

“You said that I ran from things. And that I was on my high horse. And that the work that I do is worthless. And you’re going to stand by all of that being true?”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“It’s pretty much what you said.”