Cocktales

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Cocktales Page 27

by The Cocky Collective


  Gio turns his head and, with a squawk of, “Fuck no!” flaps his wings and flies off.

  I move my hand up to cover my eyes and groan. Great. More running.

  Drake is already chasing after him as I check the road. It’s clear, so I cross it and run after him.

  I swear. I’m going to have an entire pizza to myself tonight after all this running. And a bottle of wine. Drake can wake up in the middle of the night for the babies as punishment for roping me into this.

  Within minutes, I’m wheezing, and I have the worst damn pain in my side. I am going to kill my husband and force my grandmother to cook for me every day for the next month.

  Not to mention that I’m not designed to chase a parrot. I’m not a parrot. I don’t have wings. I can’t fly. This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve done a lot of stupid things.

  “Ohhhh,” I moan, catching up with Drake. I grab his arm and lean into him, trying my best to catch my breath. I’m dying. I know it. I’m so dying. “Where did he go?”

  “Over there.” Drake points to a new store.

  A pet store.

  “Holly Woods has a pet store? Since when?”

  He shrugs. “Not sure. Mom would probably know. But Gio flew over there and around the back.”

  I frown. “Why would he go there?”

  “There’s food there? I don’t know, babe. But we have to go in and see what’s going on.”

  “He’s probably there for the food,” I mutter, crossing the street once more. “How many trays of lasagna do you think I can get away with asking Nonna to make us?”

  “At least one a week for the next year.” Drake pushes open the door to the pet store. A tiny bell above our heads jingles, and we step into what is, quite literally, an animal wonderland.

  Birds, hamsters, rabbits—you name it, and it’s here. A massive caged area stands in the middle of the room, sectioned into four. Three hold rabbits and the fourth a slew of guinea pigs. Fish tanks line the wall to the left of us, filled with a whole selection of different kinds of fish.

  Note to self: bring Antonio here.

  “Can I help you?” A man with a deep Southern drawl appears from behind a high shelving unit.

  “I sure hope so,” Drake replies, holding out his hand. “Detective Drake Nash with the Holly Woods PD. This is my wife, Noelle. She owns Bond P.I.”

  The man shakes both our hands. “Calvin Royce. What can I do for you, Detective?”

  “Please, call me Drake. I’m not here officially.” He smiles. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen a green parrot, would you?”

  “Well, sure. Got two of ‘em in the back.” Calvin stuffs his hands in his pockets.

  “Not yours,” Drake says. “Noelle’s grandmother is the dubiously proud owner of a green parrot with a potty mouth, and he’s escaped.”

  Calvin tilts his head, smiling slightly. “Does this parrot speak like a pirate?”

  “Yes!” I say a little too loud. “Have you seen him?”

  “Sure have. He’s out the back. Got here just before y’all did. Follow me.” He nods toward the back, and we follow him. “It’s the third time he’s been here this week. Reckon he’s taken a liking to my lady back here.”

  “The third time?” Drake questions.

  “Sure. He was here two days ago, and again at the weekend.” Calvin nods. “He flies in through this here back window, stays a while, then goes off. I wondered what he was doing, and I tried to get him in a cage, but he wouldn’t let me.”

  “That sounds like Gio,” I mutter.

  “He’s a lively one.”

  “He’s something all right.”

  Calvin chuckles. “There he is, right next to my lady, Dora.”

  Dora? What kind of a name is that for a parrot?

  “Gio!” I scold him. “What are you doing here?”

  He squawks. “Filthy wench! Off with yer head!”

  Well, that’s new.

  “Are we British royalty now, Gio?” Drake asks.

  Calvin moves to shut the window, laughing quietly.

  “King Gio!” Another squawk.

  Why…Where the hell did he hear that?

  “Come on. You’re coming home. Nonna is going crazy.”

  He bristles, flapping his wings. He flies up and perches on a cage with Dora in.

  Calvin grimaces. “I don’t think he’ll leave without her.”

  Drake looks at me.

  I step back and shake my head. “No. No. Fuck no, absolutely not. She does not need another parrot!”

  “But he loves her,” Drake reasons.

  “No. He’s a parrot. They don’t fall in love. Absolutely not, Drake.”

  Gio whistles, moving swiftly into an off-key rendition of what is, in all probability, a commercial tune. It’s freaking miserable, and I cannot believe I’m standing in the back room of a pet store I never knew existed, arguing over whether or not Gio is in love.

  The bell rings, and Calvin excuses himself to go back to the front of the store.

  “Come on, Noelle.” Drake positions himself in front of me. “We have Gio. It sounds like he’s been sneaking out of the house—”

  “Yeah, how exactly?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll be talking to Nonna about security,” he says. “Still, it sounds like he’s going to keep on coming back to see Dora.”

  “Which is a stupid name for a bird.”

  “Completely agree. I can’t help but picture that stupid little cartoon explorer Less won’t take her eyes off.” He runs his hand through his hair. “It’s Nonna’s birthday in a month. It can be her early birthday present. Let’s just buy Dora and take Gio home, okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay.” I pout, crossing my arms. “But I don’t suppose I have much of a choice.”

  “Good answer.” He kisses my forehead and moves to the door.

  “But when Mom freaks out about it, I’m blaming it on you entirely.”

  Drake sighs and pushes the door open. “I’ll take it.”

  Five

  “I’m going to kill you,” Mom says, staring Drake in the eye. “Slowly, painfully, and thoroughly.”

  He looks at me. “That’s where you get it from.”

  I pick up Alessia and shrug. “I warned you. I didn’t want to bring one bird back, let alone two.”

  “I cannot believe you would do this to me,” Mom goes on. “After all I’ve done for you. I was on your side when you were dating, and Noelle was being unreasonable—”

  “Hey!” I reach down and stroke Antonio’s head as he grabs at my leg. “I was not unreasonable!”

  Drake shoots me a withering look.

  “And all the other things in between, and you bring the crazy woman another goddamn parrot!” Mom finishes.

  “Okay, in my defense—”

  “You do not have a defense! This is indefensible!” Mom wiggles her finger at him. “In. De. Fen. Si. Bull!”

  Drake takes a step back. “Point taken. I understand. I’m a terrible son-in-law. Expect flowers tomorrow.”

  I laugh, sitting on the sofa so Antonio can climb up onto me, too.

  Mom crosses her arms. “I also accept wine and chocolate as bribes.”

  “Duly noted.” Drake nods.

  “Ah, she is-a perfect, no?” Nonna says, ambling into the living room, carrying both Gio and Dora’s little cages. “No-a wonder he-a loves her. She is-a bella. They will-a make-a bella babies.”

  Mom’s eyes widen into saucers. Total deer-in-headlights look.

  Drake leans into her and whispers, “How does a day at the spa sound?”

  Mom turns her head to him. “Make it two and I won’t poison you at dinner on Friday.”

  “Done.”

  Drake props his head up on his hand and looks down at me. “Do you think Gio can still have babies? Isn’t he old now?”

  “I don’t know. How long do parrots live?” I ask, adjusting the covers over me. “I guess that constitutes whether or not he’s old.


  “I don’t know, and quite honestly, I’ve fucking had it with parrots. Not only did I manage to double them in the family, but it’s costing me around three hundred bucks.”

  “I told you. You’re paying the price of pissing off Mom. Even you should know better than that by now.” I tap his nose.

  “Whatever. It’s made better knowing that I won.”

  “Won? What did you win?”

  “Finding Gio.”

  I sit up and stare at him. “How did you win?”

  “I saw him first. On the table outside the café. I found him. Therefore, I win.” He grins smugly.

  “Well, if you wanna use that logic, me and Bek found him first.”

  “But you didn’t, did you, honey? You saw a green flash that may or may not have been Gio, and you couldn’t find him once you saw him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever. We didn’t shake on it.”

  “Oh, but if you’d found him, you would have totally won.”

  “Well, yeah. I make the rules.”

  Drake sweeps one arm around me and pins me down to the bed. He leans over me, eyes piercing into me. “I won, and you just have to deal with it.”

  “I refuse to accept the result.”

  “How about I make it up to you?”

  “And how do you think you’re going to do that?”

  He dips his head and kisses the side of my neck. “Like this.” He kisses down my neck and over my collarbone. “And this…”

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  His mouth moves further down until his lips are ghosting over the curve of my breasts.

  Okay. I can take this kind of making up.

  I wind my fingers in his hair and pull him up, bringing his mouth to mine. He kisses me slowly, teasing me by tugging my bottom lip between his teeth. Shivers shoot down my spine, and—

  Crying.

  Drake drops his forehead on the pillow next to me with a heavy sigh, whereas all I can do is laugh.

  “I’m on it,” he groans. He gets out of bed and adjusts his boxers over his cock, and that only makes me laugh a little harder. “Don’t laugh. I’ll be back to finish that,” he says, right as the sound of a second cry joining the first sounds. “Ah, shit.”

  I sigh and get up, too. “See? You just had to get cocky, didn’t you?”

  Pre-order FOUR DAY FLING now! An epically awkward romantic comedy coming July 24th. Visit www.emmahart.org/four-day-fling for all retailer links!

  About the Author

  Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.

  She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.

  Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.

  Yes, really. She's that sarcastic.

  Website

  Facebook

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  Also by Emma Hart

  Standalones:

  Blind Date

  Being Brooke

  Catching Carly

  Casanova

  Mixed Up

  Miss Fix-It

  Miss Mechanic

  The Upside to Being Single

  The Hook-Up Experiment

  The Dating Experiment

  Four Day Fling (coming July 24th)

  Hot Mess (coming September 25th)

  Tequila, Tequila (coming November 13th)

  * * *

  The Vegas Nights series:

  Sin

  Lust

  Stripped series:

  Stripped Bare

  Stripped Down

  The Burke Brothers:

  Dirty Secret

  Dirty Past

  Dirty Lies

  Dirty Tricks

  Dirty Little Rendezvous

  The Holly Woods Files:

  Twisted Bond

  Tangled Bond

  Tethered Bond

  Tied Bond

  Twirled Bond

  Burning Bond

  Twined Bond

  By His Game series:

  Blindsided

  Sidelined

  Intercepted

  * * *

  Call series:

  Late Call

  Final Call

  His Call

  * * *

  Wild series:

  Wild Attraction

  Wild Temptation

  Wild Addiction

  Wild: The Complete Series

  * * *

  The Game series:

  The Love Game

  Playing for Keeps

  The Right Moves

  Worth the Risk

  * * *

  Memories series:

  Never Forget

  Always Remember

  Cockamamie

  Staci Hart

  Short story featuring Rin and Court from Piece of Work.

  * * *

  This is raw, original material written just for this anthology. Due to constraints and the immediacy of the timeline, this story has not been edited.

  Copyright © 2018 by Staci Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cockamamie

  Rin

  You can do this. Just walk in there and be a boss bitch—don’t let him scare you.

  I smoothed a hand down my pencil skirt, which, to the naked eye, might have looked like I was righting the material. In truth, my palms were a swampy, clammy nightmare. Must have been where the moisture in my mouth had gone—it was dry as the Sahara at high noon.

  Drawing myself up with the aid of a fortifying breath, I stepped into Dr. Lyons’ office and put on my best smile.

  He looked up from his desk, and I was struck dumb and senseless for a moment, just as I had been every time I’d been in his presence since I’d started my internship at the museum last week.

  My God, he was gorgeous. So gorgeous that I forgot just how gorgeous, and the shock of seeing him hit me like a lightning bolt whenever we shared air. The long, stunned moment would always be spent cataloging every line and angle of his body—the hard cut of his jaw, this chiseled bow and curve of his lips, always resting in a discerning line, the ridge of his dark brow over stormy, gray eyes, the shock of thick, dark hair casually tossed, as if he’d combed it first with a comb, then with his fingers. The thought of his big hand running through that dark mane was enough to send a shiver spiraling down my spine.

  “Good morning, Rin,” he said, breaking the silence.

  I took the steps required to get me to the chair across from him, my mouth answering automatically. “Good morning, Dr. Lyons. What can I do for you today?”

  His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t place before it was gone. “We have a last minute addition to the exhibition—a pearl pendant from the Medici treasury. Add that piece to your research today.”

  I scrambled for my notebook in my bag. “Of course.”

  He watched me fumbling, and one side of his lips lifted slightly in what I’d come to learn was his version of a smile. “I emailed you the information on it.”

  My cheeks warmed just as my fingers closed over my notebook. “Thank you. I was wondering—”

  “Morning, Court,” a cheery, sensual voice said from behind me, and we looked to the sound to find Bianca, his assistant and the bane of my existence, standing in the doorway. Her smile slipped when she saw me, everything about her flattening with discontent. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in a…meeting.”

  I fought the urge to look away, curl into myself, try to disappear—which was a really, really difficult thing to achieve when you’re six feet tall—and instead I kept a smile on my face and hoped I
didn’t look terrified.

  All I’d wanted was to come into this internship and learn, to do well, to impress my superiors. I could land a permanent position at The Met if I worked hard, if I did a good job, earned their respect. Or so I thought. Neither of them had been impressed with me, although I thought I might be winning Dr. Lyons over. Bianca was hopeless—I had a better chance of winning the New York City Marathon, and I hadn’t run since I’d donned matching yellow gym clothes under duress in high school.

  Bianca eyed me for a split second before looking back to Court. “I’ll swing back by later. I wanted to go over our itinerary for Florence.”

  I shifted in my seat, feigning interest in my notebook so I could sneak a glance at him—his expression was closed and unamused. “I’m working on my Medici publication, thanks to Rin’s help. And thanks to you sparing her a little time to work on it.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem,” Bianca said, and I wondered if he caught the hint of aggravation in her voice.

  Because it was no skin off her nose. Last week, she’d permanently banished me to the library to work on my dissertation, stripped me of all my responsibilities. Which was almost worse than being fired.

  “Let’s talk about it over lunch then,” she insisted.

  Somehow, he closed off even more. “Just email me what you need, Bianca. Thank you,” he said, dismissing her.

  By some miracle, she left the room. I was a little surprised she didn’t pull up a chair so she could have a clear shot at exploding me with her eyes.

  I jotted in my notebooks. “I’ll make the pendant a priority today, Dr. Lyons. Is there anything else you’d like me to focus on for your publication?”

 

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