by Marika Ray
I parked down Main Street, walking a few blocks before I found the shop Esme had texted me about. Apparently, Polly, Lucy Sutter’s mom, had just opened a tea shop that served little snacks and every tea you could imagine. I about swallowed my tongue when I read the painted sign out front for all to see with the official logo being a delicately petaled flower in various shades of pink.
The T-Spot.
Jesus, that woman was a hoot. Polly was a man hater, for good reason. She’d had two kids, both with fathers who’d left the second the pregnancy test turned positive. I’d hate men too. Only made sense the female sex organ would inspire her shop and company logo.
I waved to Polly behind the counter helping a customer, while grabbing a table and making sure we had five chairs. Esme came in next, a bustle of activity in her business suit and leather messenger bag. I didn’t even quite know what Esme did for a living, but I was fairly certain it was business coaching, whatever that was. Vee came in right behind her, yelling across the whole store.
“That is the prettiest vajayjay I’ve ever seen, Polly!” She gave the woman two thumbs up and a broad smile. Vee saw us and came over to the table, sitting down despite her trendy puffy vest not cooperating. “Did you see the logo? I mean, is that clever or what?”
Esme smiled. “Polly knows her audience, that’s for sure. What better way to say ‘No men allowed’ than to put a giant vagina on the front of the store?”
“Oh my God,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. My sisters were too much.
The little bell over the door rang out again, drawing our attention to the newcomers. Izzy stood with her arms wrapped around her waist as Poppy, Yedda, and Penelope patted her on the back and gave her huge smiles. What was that all about?
Izzy pasted on a smile us girls knew was as fake as Vee’s nails, then broke free of the ladies and nearly ran to our table to sink low into a chair. Amelia came through the door and nearly pushed over Penelope. Something made me think that was on purpose.
“Save me,” Izzy whispered urgently, pretty eyes wide with terror.
“What do those ol’ biddies want with you?” Amelia rushed over to our table, rounding out our circle of five. “I can probably take Penelope, but I get a weird sense from her. She’s more than she seems.”
Amelia made a face like she was going off on a wild goose chase. Amelia only liked a secret if she was in on it.
“Did you see the sign out front?” Izzy asked quietly, grabbing a laminated menu card out of the centerpiece. She wasn’t meeting our gazes, and that made me nervous.
“Fuck yeah, we saw it. How could you not see it?” Vee giggled.
Izzy’s cheeks went pink, reminding me of myself. “I painted it.”
Amelia hopped out of her chair. “You’re the pussy painter?”
“Shh!” I whisper-shouted to no avail. Izzy clearly was embarrassed. We didn’t need to blab to the entire town.
Izzy giggled nervously, covering her mouth. She nodded and her cheeks went a deeper shade of red.
Vee leaned over to give her a hug. “It’s beautiful!”
When we got done congratulating her on a job well done, I couldn’t help but groan a bit. “Great. So one sister spray-paints the Welcome to Hell sign. The other paints hoo-has in exchange for cash. What secrets do you have, Vee and Esme?”
Vee shook her head vigorously and put her hands up, curiously quiet on the matter.
Esme shook her head. “I don’t have any secrets. How much did you make on that job, Iz? You should have told me. Maybe I could have brokered a better deal for you.”
Izzy shrugged and handed the menu over to me. “I felt the deal was fair.”
Knowing Izzy, she probably got paid pennies for her work. The girl was a damn fine artist, wasting her talents as an accountant. Then again, she said she painted and cooked because it made her happy, so why did she have to monetize that? She had a good point.
“What can I get you girls?” Polly lumbered up to our table and had her pad and pen ready to take our order.
“I’ll take the Loverboy spiked hibiscus peach, please,” Izzy said sweetly.
“On the house for you, girlie.” Polly winked. “Your artwork is drawing quite the attention.”
“I’m not sure what to get. They all sound amazing,” Esme added, leaning over to read off my menu. “What do you suggest?”
Polly took turns staring critically at us all before listing out her recommendations. “Palm Beach raspberry starfruit for Vee, our own Boochcraft formulated just for us from Prescott Fines for Oakley, Rhode Hard Island tea for Esme, and our Virgin Ass Slapper peach tea for Amelia since she’s knocked up and can’t enjoy the good stuff.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Sounds good to me.”
We chatted for a bit until our order came. Then we sipped the best tea we’d ever had, chatting about everything and nothing. When the alcohol hit our systems, Amelia launched into it.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Wyatt, big sis?”
I set my cup down, surprised to see it almost empty. “The deal is simply this: I’m somehow obsessed with him in a way I’ve never been, but the guy is hiding something and I don’t know what it is and he won’t tell me. So, I’m mad at him.”
Vee raised her hand in the air and signaled to Polly for another round of teas for the table. She leaned across the table and took my hand in hers.
“Was the sex good though?” When I rolled my eyes, she gripped me harder. “No, but seriously. We need to know before we can focus on anything else.”
Esme nodded. “It’s true. I’m going through a dry spell right now and need to live vicariously through someone. And no offense, Amelia, but we grew up with Titus too, so he feels like a brother to me. I can’t hear about your sex life.”
Amelia folded her arms across her chest and pouted.
I swallowed a laugh, feeling better than I had in days. Feeling like all that tension between Wyatt and me was floating away on a cloud of spiked tea and sister talk. I drained the rest of my tea and set it down with a smack. “Fine. The sex was crazy good. Out of this world. Toe-curling, mind-blowing, slobbering-into-the-pillow good.”
The girls squealed, and Vee dropped low to whisper, “Big dick, right?”
I put my hands about ten inches apart in the air. Funny, they were kind of blurry. “Massive.”
Esme shoved me good-naturedly in the shoulder and I almost fell off my chair. Izzy leaned into me on the other side and kept me upright. Scratch that. She wasn’t helping me, she was laying her head on my shoulder to rest her eyes. Amelia stood up, a big grin on her face.
“As amazing as this conversation is, my bladder is protesting. I’ll be right back. Don’t spill any more details until I get back!” She ran to the bathroom and Polly arrived with more tea.
“I brought a plate of finger foods too. Those teas’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful,” Polly warned.
“Pssh. What does she know?” Vee mumbled, unzipping her vest and stripping down to her tiny tank top and jeans. “Is it hot in here?”
Amelia came back and drilled me with a look. “Let’s recap: the sex is fabulous, but he has a secret. So, do you love him? Or do you just want to bang him?”
I wiggled my shoulders, feeling like my shirt suddenly became scratchy and uncomfortable. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I think it could be that first one, but maybe I’m just blinded by the second one?”
Vee nodded sagely, taking another swig of tea. “Blinded by the dick.”
Izzy opened her eyes and snorted, still leaning on my shoulder despite the bumpy ride that was turning out to be. “Jeez, Vee. Are you like the dick whisperer or something? All wise in your twenty-one years of experience?”
Amelia leaned over the table, drawing attention back to her. “Hey, I get your point, Izzy, but we don’t shame here. If Vee has more dick experience than any of us already, that doesn’t make it wrong.”
“Dick-sperience,” Esme drawled, giggling into h
er cup of tea. “We should trademark it.”
I couldn’t help but giggle, which made Izzy snort-laugh. Even Vee sported a smile at that. Amelia sighed, for the first time having to be the sane one of the bunch. Usually she was the drunk skunk we had to manage with kid gloves and a healthy dose of patience. Turnaround’s fair playback, bitch.
Or something like that. In truth, my brain was a little fuzzy at the moment.
“Okay, so this is what you have to do. Stay away from the dick-straction—get it?—and analyze if you really do have feelings for him. If you do, then it’s worth giving him some time to get with the program. You’re a gem of a woman, Oak. If he can’t see that and be willing to address all the skeletons in his closet, then he’s not worthy of you.”
My eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, ’Lia.”
Esme fumbled with her bag, spilling most of the contents before getting her notebook and pen out on the table. “I gotta write these down. You ladies are coming up with words like little genius wordy wordsmiths.” She scribbled something on the page, but I couldn’t make it out because of the tears in my eyes.
Izzy lifted her head finally, swaying a bit in her seat with the motion. “I bet it’s hard to be a tough cop by day and yet keep your lady heart soft for a man at night. I think you’re doing great, sis.”
“More gold…” Esme muttered, scrambling to write down Izzy’s words.
“I know what you mean.” The voice came from just over my left shoulder. I turned, seeing Penelope Fines standing there in her orthopedic shoes, socks pulled up to her knees, hands on her hips. “Female officers of the law have to be stoic. It can take a toll on you after a while. I feel your pain.”
I grinned, thinking Penelope was adorable in her little meter maid uniform. She flicked the plastic badge that sat on her chest. Amelia was either holding back a laugh or going into labor behind me.
Yedda pushed her way next to Penelope, the cat hair stuck to her sweater in clumps. “You make sure that man treats you like a princess, you hear me? I told my granddaughter, Hazel, if he can’t get you off, you get off him. Know what I mean?”
Poppy popped her head over Penelope’s shoulder. “What guy are we talking about?”
I shook my head. “Nobody, Poppy. Nothing to see here. Move along.” I didn’t want to end up in the gossip grapevine by nightfall.
She narrowed her eyes at me, a sly little grin on her face. I knew that she knew what man I was thinking of. She’d delivered similar brown paper packages to both of our doors recently. I’d play it cool, though. The last thing I needed was Poppy Strauss butting her nose into my business. That’s what I had sisters for.
Vee stood suddenly, holding her tea in the air. “To Hell women. May we sip spiked tea under a giant vagina and rule our men with the same honey trap.”
“Hear, hear!” Polly cheered. Yedda cackled and Penelope grimaced. Poppy smacked me on the back repeatedly.
My sisters all giggled but toasted Vee just the same before downing the rest of their tea. I smiled, feeling highly entertained by my family and the rest of this crazy town, but still weighed down by the decision I needed to make.
Did I take a risk on Wyatt and potentially lose my job?
Or play it safe and ride solo forever?
19
Wyatt
* * *
Emmeline had stayed the night. After the serious talk about visiting Mom, she’d sauntered off to shop on Main Street. We danced around the subject of me being a shit brother. We eventually got hungry and went to dinner, having so much fun together, the sun had set by the time we were about to say goodbye. I couldn’t have her driving home in the dark, so I asked her to stay. Truth was, I was having more fun with her than I remembered. I’d shoved my family away due to grief two years ago, and it had become a habit.
Emmeline was right. I needed to visit more often.
Once Em left, I watched Oakley’s house all afternoon, wondering where she was and what she was doing. And yeah, who she was doing it with. I had no right to know about her personal life considering I wasn’t about to share mine, but I missed her. Missed her on a level that scared me. We’d only had the one night, but it was enough to lodge her deep in my system.
As the day wore on and Oakley didn’t return home, a gnawing sense of unease gathered in my stomach. I took my frustration out on a lump of pasta dough, rolling it out by hand and letting it dry before cutting into flat noodles. Em had convinced me I’d been wrong not to visit my family more often, and I was starting to wonder if I’d made the wrong decision about Oakley.
Being able to make snap decisions was one thing I prided myself on. In fact, that characteristic was what led me to law enforcement in the first place. To think I’d been so wrong about my personal life was making me doubt myself in general, and I didn’t fucking like it.
A car door slamming had me grabbing my towel to wipe the dough and flour from my hands. I pulled apart the blinds to see Chief Waldo escorting Oakley into her house, his hand on her elbow. She tossed her hair back and laughed, the joy on her face hitting me harder than her frowns and biting remarks. Then she tripped over a sprinkler head by the walkway to her front door. Chief just rolled his eyes and hustled her into the house.
Was Oakley Waldo, Miss Perfect, drunk? The thought had my lips pulling into a smile. A few minutes later, Chief came back out and got Oakley’s Grom out of the back of his truck, wheeling it under her car porch before heading out.
Pretty sure it wasn’t fair to approach Oakley when I knew she was inebriated, but I also figured this might be my only chance to get a genuine conversation out of her. Sober, she’d just yell at me or freeze me out.
I glanced at my pasta, seeing that it needed a bit longer to dry before I could finish cutting it. Perfect. Just enough time to go over and check on my neighbor. I didn’t give it much more thought than that. The door was closed behind me and I was walking across our yards before I could talk some sense into myself.
It took at least a full minute after I knocked for Oakley to pull the front door open. She swayed on her feet, drowning in an old sweatshirt over leggings. Her high ponytail sent a bolt of lust right to my dick. I wanted to tug on that hair and see her eyes drift shut as I slid into her tight body.
“Wyatt?” Oakley’s face scrunched up, bringing me back to the present moment.
“Hey. Mind if I come in?”
Like a bastard, I didn’t give her time to say no. I just stepped inside and she tilted her head back to look me in the eye. Hers were hazy, but not so gone she wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow.
“No,” she said defiantly, jamming her hands on her hips.
I looked down at my feet, which currently stood at least a yard inside her house. “I’m inside already.”
“Listen, Loot—leiutent—Wyatt. I don’t want you here.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling at her stumbling words. “I know, sweetheart, and I want to fix that.”
Her nose went in the air, and even drunk, she could morph back into Captain Waldo in a split second. “So you’re ready to tell me everything and be honest with Sheriff Locke about us?”
“That’s the thing, Oakley. Is there an us? Seems to me we should date for a bit before telling the sheriff. One of us transferring out seems a bit extreme when we don’t even know if we’re compatible. I want to tell you about my background, but that happens after dating for a while, not the first date. Plus, I can’t imagine riding out without you.”
I knew it as soon as I said it that I was feeding her a line of bullshit. I already knew we were compatible. It was why I was scared shitless to tell her about my past. Her judgement held weight, and I didn’t want it to crush me. Not when I was just making the life I’d worked so hard for.
Oakley looked down at her feet. She let go of the doorknob and swayed a bit before righting herself. I thought I heard her mutter, “What the hell was in that Boochcraft?”
She raised her head, and the sadness in her eyes m
ade my gut clench. “It’s the right thing to do. Period. And the fact that you won’t do it is a deal breaker for me.”
I reached out a hand, wanting to touch her. She flinched back, and I froze. My arm slowly fell back down to my side.
“There’s just so much in my past I’m still trying to figure out myself. I need the time to do that.”
“So, why don’t you tell me? I can help you sort through it, Wyatt.”
She was throwing me a lifeline. A way to let her in. A way to still be together. I should take it. I knew I should take it and run with the offer because I wouldn’t get a better one.
“I come from a wealthy family. I grew up doing things I’m ashamed of now.” I shifted on my feet, feeling uncomfortable even admitting that.
Oakley frowned. “That’s it? You shoplifted some craft beer and now you feel bad?”
I tilted my head. “No, that’s not it. There’s a whole bunch of shit that you don’t know about, Oakley. And I don’t want to go into all of it right now, okay?” I plowed my hands through my hair.
Oakley’s face went rigid and I could practically feel the icy armor going back into position. When she opened her mouth, her volume had increased substantially. “I don’t know about it because you won’t tell me. That’s your fault for not trusting me, which is pretty pathetic because we’re partners. You’re supposed to trust me with your life, and yet you don’t. So where does that leave us, Wyatt? Don’t you see? There is no us. There can’t be because you won’t be honest.”
I threw my arms out to the side. “I’m trying to be honest, but you can’t ask a guy to flay himself open on the first date, Oakley! Give me some goddamn time, would you?”