Hide Your Crazy (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “I know, that’s the problem,” he grumbled. “If she knows that I came here willingly, she’ll ask me to come again, and I don’t want to paint.”

  “Well, you’re going to want to paint tonight,” Captain Morgan interjected. “Quit being a little bitch and let’s go.”

  Captain Morgan, six-pack in hand, threw open the door and walked inside like he owned the place.

  Lucky for Justice, they sat us in a different part of the building than where his mother was painting.

  Unluckily, that part of the building was also housing a goddamn bachelorette party.

  “You hired strippers!”

  Both Pace and I, who were the only ones still in uniform since our shifts had ended and we’d grabbed a quick bite to eat before we were supposed to be at the painting place, looked at each other.

  A woman with the penis headband stood up with a short squeal.

  Captain Morgan ignored her, us, and everything else, then walked to the table. He took the seat that was farthest in the corner of the room, and then promptly twisted off the top of one of his beers.

  “Are those even supposed to be twist-off?” Ruby asked as she walked toward Captain Morgan.

  “They should just fuck already,” Jonah muttered under his breath.

  “I can’t believe you did this for me, Tatiana!” the penis headband woman squealed.

  “I didn’t.” Tatiana, or who I assumed was Tatiana, stood up with a frown on her face.

  She had a bottle of wine in one hand and a brush in the other.

  “Sexy,” Justice muttered.

  That Tatiana was. She was in a short red dress, had long hair all the way to her ass, and her heels made her legs look a mile long.

  “Well then, who are they?” penis headband asked.

  “They are actual police officers,” Ruby said. “Here for a work function. Now please, step aside and let them sit down.”

  That’s when I opened my own beer.

  I’d stopped off to get two Silver Bullets at the gas station.

  And since I had to work tomorrow mid-afternoon, I knew I couldn’t risk getting drunk off my ass.

  But two beers—although they were big ones—wouldn’t kill me.

  Normally I would’ve at least changed out of my uniform but seeing as Captain Morgan had given us a ‘be on time or else’ message about halfway through the shift, I’d thought it better to be on time rather than changed out of my clothes.

  Hopefully I didn’t get paint and shit all over the uniform.

  That would just be wonderful.

  Though, I had a feeling my dry cleaners could get it out.

  They could get out blood, vomit, and other shit that I’d rather not think about. What was a little paint?

  “Sit down, sit down.” A frazzled looking woman with a paint-stained apron came in, carrying more paint-stained aprons. “Here, take one of these. Sit down where the station is already set up.”

  I took one, put it on, and shook my head.

  The ends of the ties wouldn’t even reach behind my back.

  “Mine’s defective,” I muttered.

  “Just tie it to your gun and your nightstick,” Justice suggested.

  I didn’t, but I did tuck it into my utility belt so that it was mostly snug around me.

  “Everybody have a station?” the still frazzled woman asked. “Good, my name is Joanie, and I’ll be taking care of everyone today. Do you all know what we’re painting?”

  The women started to clap their hands, and I ground my teeth.

  None of the men at our large table said a word.

  “A lighthouse!” one of the women clapped.

  What the fuck?

  Why a lighthouse?

  Who the fuck wanted a painting of a lighthouse?

  “I can’t believe you’re so excited about painting a lighthouse,” the lady I recognized as Tatiana said. “Why wouldn’t you choose a Mr. and Mrs. painting or something? And why are you in sweatpants? You’re dressed like a weirdo.”

  “Because I’m a Miss, and a Mr. and Mrs. painting wouldn’t make sense for me. Plus, I’m the only one that’s not going to be married. Plus, I’m paying. I’m not doing something that I can’t actually use,” Ms. Obviously Excited about Lighthouses said. “And I’m kind of a lady, but definitely more of a weirdo.”

  I snorted at that and took a sip of my beer without turning around.

  It was only when Joanie had us mixing the primary paint colors to get more than the basic three—red, yellow, and blue that were provided in our class—that what the weirdo in the bridal group said had me once again paying attention to their conversation.

  “What color do you get again when you mix yellow and blue?” the weirdo asked.

  “Jesus,” I muttered.

  Pace snorted.

  I looked over and caught a ton of blonde hair piled on top of a cute little head in a messy looking bun.

  I turned away when I caught sight of her midriff being exposed, and the hint of a tattoo peeking out from her waistband.

  Nope. No. Nuh-uh.

  Not happening, Gibbs!

  ***

  Katy

  “I’m a cop, not a miracle worker.”

  I stiffened at hearing those words.

  Vaguely I remembered hearing that voice as the men in the group in front of us had filed in, but I’d been quite engrossed in a new romance book that I’d purchased on Tuesday but hadn’t had a chance to read just yet thanks to my awful job. While I’d been waiting to get started with the painting, and been ignored by the others in the bachelorette party, I’d gotten quite a bit into the book, and hadn’t spared anyone else entering a glance.

  Now, I did.

  I looked out of the corner of my eye at the table in front of us, and one painting, in particular, caught my eye.

  That definitely isn’t a lighthouse.

  I bit my lip and pulled my phone out, pretending to take a selfie while in actuality, I was taking a photo of the man and his “lighthouse” painting in front of me.

  Then, grinning widely, I sent the picture out to my friend and college roommate and waited for the reply.

  It didn’t take long.

  AJ: Is that a penis?

  See, that was why AJ and I worked. She knew me just as well as I knew her. Sure, we didn’t spend much time together anymore since we’d both graduated, but that didn’t matter. I could text her, day or night, and she would be there for me. Just like I’d be there for her.

  In college, when we’d both been assigned a dorm room, we’d both been much younger than the general population of students, hence being stuck together. But it’d all worked out great in the end.

  Katy: Yes. Except, I don’t know if he purposefully drew a penis for his lighthouse, or if the penis is really supposed to be a lighthouse and he just really sucks at painting.

  AJ: Well…I’m going with he purposefully did it, otherwise that would be just sad.

  Katy: I was thinking that, too. I’m having a terrible time, by the way. I was all excited about this lighthouse, and everyone’s being a complete jerk about me picking it since it’s ‘boring.’

  AJ: It is boring, Katy-did. But you like lighthouses. If they hadn’t foisted all this shit on you, then they could’ve chosen. But you paid for them all. You bought the wine. You bought the food. You paid for dinner. You literally did everything but drive their asses there.

  That was most definitely true.

  I’d been working at my current job for six months now, and ever since I’d started, I’d hated it. I’d hated the people more, and I was fairly sure that Tiffany asked me to throw her the bachelorette party and invited me to be in her wedding party only because she wanted me to throw it and give her an extra dress in the pictures.

  “Now,” Joanie, the woman teaching this particular class, said. “The final addition will be a shooting star.”

  I couldn’t help it.

  I had to look and watch this man draw his shooting star.

/>   And in the end, it totally looked like his giant penis was ejaculating all over the canvas.

  It was brilliant.

  Too bad he was a cop.

  I had enough authority and testosterone in my life thanks to my dad, the chief of police. I didn’t need to add anything else that even resembled him to it.

  Chapter 1

  I panic at a lot of other places, not just the disco.

  -Coffee Cup

  Katy

  “You’re such a shithead.” I pushed my German Shepherd, Lou, out of my face and away from my ice cream cone. “Go sit over there, you pig.”

  Lou moved, but his eyes never left mine.

  “You’re a failure,” I said. “Why would I buy you an ice cream cone when you failed?”

  Lou gave me a pitying look.

  “No.” I refused to give him a lick. Not after the embarrassment he’d just put me through. “How hard would it have been to sit and lay down?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “We’ve been working on this shit for weeks, Lou,” I told him. “Seriously, all you had to do was sit. Lay down. Leave it. And then roll over. That’s all!”

  Lou blinked at me and then turned away from me to stare out his open window.

  I sighed and then stopped gently at the stoplight, careful not to throw the big beast forward.

  And he was big. And a beast.

  He was over a hundred and thirty pounds of muscled stubbornness, and I loved him with my whole heart.

  He was my friend, my confidant. He was all I’d ever need out of life, and I appreciated him every single second that he graced my life with his presence.

  Until, that was, two hours ago, when he’d failed his obedience training class.

  He’d embarrassed me by doing not one single thing I asked him to, and the entire time he looked at me like I’d betrayed him.

  So, I’d forgotten his favorite treats at home and had to settle for the off brand that the store offered. My bad!

  But, apparently, Lou didn’t give one shit about the fact that I’d already been late from work.

  He didn’t care that I was in a hurry.

  All he cared about was the fact that I didn’t follow through, and he wasn’t going to follow through on his end out of spite.

  The big bastard.

  Just as I was about to continue with the scolding that Lou had coming, I watched in astonishment as Lou whimpered, placed both large paws on the ledge of the window, and vaulted straight out of the car.

  I gasped, immediately watching where the big bastard went, and then pulled over, cutting off two other cars, and parked illegally. Half on the curb, half off the curb, I bailed out of my car.

  “Louis Kuntz!” I yelled my dog’s full name, knowing that would make him change his tune. “Get your furry butt back over here!”

  Then I stopped, realizing I’d just left my brand-new car—though it was a Corolla and nothing special—parked illegally with my bag, keys, and cell phone planted in the seat for anyone to come upon.

  I moaned and turned back, hauling ass back to my car.

  “Move!” I bellowed, not realizing that I’d just said that to a cop.

  Instead, I barreled past him to get into my car, yanked the keys out of the ignition, and slammed it shut in the next instant.

  Once I beeped it locked, I took back off after my dog, only to come up short when I saw the damn dog sitting there, looking at me like I was stupid.

  And he had my ice cream cone in his mouth.

  “You little asshole,” I growled.

  “Ma’am?”

  I ignored whoever was talking to me and instead stared at the traitor in front of me.

  “You’re going to Hell, you know,” I informed the dog. “All dogs go to Heaven my ass. You’re going straight to Hell, and in Hell, they won’t have ice cream cones.”

  My dog burped, and I closed my eyes in agitation.

  “Ma’am, here.”

  I turned just in time to see a large chest taking up my vision.

  The man was wearing a tight brown shirt. It had white buttons that ran up the middle, and a bright shiny badge settled right over the man’s heart.

  My mouth went dry.

  Instead of looking up at the face that was attached to the vest, I looked down at the man’s tight pants.

  Have you ever seen a man in baseball pants? How tight they are, and how they leave very little to the imagination?

  Well, these pants were much the same. And they were covered from foot to just below the knee with bright, shiny black boots that looked like they were polished within an inch of their life.

  Oh, and let’s not forget about the way that gun belt really brought out the bulge in his pants where his other, more yummy, attributes lay.

  “Ma’am?”

  I finally looked up past the collarbone and found myself absolutely stunned speechless.

  Oh, God.

  He had a beard. Not a full-blown one, but one that clearly showed that he couldn’t care less if he shaved or not.

  Then there were his white teeth that very clearly had braces on them at one point in time.

  Luckily that was all I could see besides his full lips.

  He was wearing a white helmet and those aviator shades that were so popular now-a-days.

  But then he had to go and ruin my day by taking them off, and showing me exactly what I didn’t have in my life.

  He hooked them in the collar of his shirt before taking his helmet off moments later.

  His black, slightly sweaty, shaggy black hair hung around his chin and around his face. Loose curls were spattered here and there throughout the midnight locks, and oh, God. I wanted to run my hands through it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  And then my eyes finally met his, and I froze.

  He had gunmetal gray eyes that looked like they sparkled, but that had to be an illusion.

  “You need to move your car,” he informed me.

  I snapped out of my reveling and stiffened slightly.

  “What?”

  “You need to move your car. Now,” he said a little more forcefully this time. “I also wrote you a citation for illegally parking your vehicle.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “My dog jumped out of my car.”

  He looked down at my dog.

  “I should write you one for no leash, too,” he mumbled, likely trying to say it quiet enough that I wouldn’t hear.

  But I did hear, and my back straightened impossibly more.

  “Thanks,” I snapped as I took the ticket. “Have a nice day.”

  He watched me stomp away with blank eyes, and I chanced one quick look over my shoulder when I realized that my dog hadn’t fallen into step beside me.

  “Come on, asshole.”

  The dog came, and I could’ve sworn I saw the man’s lips twitch.

  But that wouldn’t be right.

  The man was a dick. He shouldn’t find me calling my dog an asshole funny.

  I opened the passenger side door and gestured to Lou to ‘kennel.’ Which he did. Quite nicely, might I add.

  The jerk.

  “I can’t believe you just did that to me,” I snapped as I finally looked at the ticket.

  “Officer Gibbs,” I muttered under my breath once I saw the signature. “You’re a dick.”

  Lou sneezed, and I took that as my sign that it was time to leave.

  “Fuckin’ a,” I grumbled as I looked behind me, and quickly backed off of the curb.

  And even though the bumpers started to scrape—and I didn’t remember that happening when I parked—I didn’t stop to see if anyone was looking.

  Once my final tire fell off the curb, I gunned it and spun gravel while I did.

  Then immediately looked over my shoulder at the cop, who was watching me go while also shaking his head like he couldn’t believe I’d just done that.

  Well, he could believe it! That’s what jerks deserved!

  Chapter 2r />
  I’m a mixture of spoiled and I’ll get the shit done by my own damn self.

  -Logan to Katy

  Logan

  “Come on, girl,” I called to my beloved German Shepherd, Sister. “We have to go, or I’ll be late to Mom’s. And you know how pissy she gets when I’m not there on time.”

  A grumbled huff left my girl, and I started to smile but stopped when I heard it.

  “I’m seriously thinking about giving you up for adoption. Can’t you just poop already so we can go eat?”

  I turned to find the woman I’d given the ticket to earlier in the week standing off to the side of the walking trail that Sister and I frequented every single day. She was holding a green plastic bag and looking down at the dog—the one that’d jumped out of a moving car window—with a ferocious frown on her face.

  She was cute.

  Not gorgeous, but cute.

  Really cute.

  Like an annoying little friend that you couldn’t help but to find adorable even when she was annoying.

  She was wearing a pair of leggings. Leggings that showed off her curvy hips, and slightly thick thighs.

  The leggings themselves were black with the hot pink ‘Pink Panther’ on them. She was wearing a black sweatshirt that was about four sizes too big for her, and her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head.

  To top the whole ridiculous ensemble off, she was wearing a pair of hot pink Chucks.

  Oh, and let’s not forget the adorable glasses that were perched on the end of her nose.

  They looked like the kind that librarians wore, with the fucking chain and all.

  Sister barked, bringing my attention back to her, and I grimaced.

  “You ready to go?”

  She started forward, and I took that as her answer.

  I followed after her, keeping my head turned so that I didn’t inadvertently make eye contact with the woman.

  She looked like the talking type, and I wasn’t in the mood to talk right then.

  Maybe not ever.

  At least not after the shift I’d just gone through.

  “You!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  I nearly groaned.

  Then, in answer, I looked down at Sister, and then up at the woman.