“Headaches suck.” I turned to survey Ford.
“Linnett’s been gone a long time,” I admitted.
He looked at me, blowing out a breath.
“Go check on her,” he suggested.
I wanted to do that about as much as I wanted to have an abscess between my toes.
“Ummm,” I began to say no, but then he narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth as if he was about to say something I wasn’t going to like.
The moment that he did, I wrinkled my nose and got up.
“When the waitress comes, you know what I want,” I told Ford.
Ford nodded once.
“Okay, well thanks.” I walked around the corner of the table, staying close to Ford.
When I passed him, I dragged my fingers along his nape, causing his neck to tense and his shoulders to raise.
Snickering because that was his ticklish spot, I started in the direction of the bathroom only to come to a stop when I nearly ran into Linnett.
“Oh, there you are.” I smiled. “Ford was wondering what happened to you.”
She narrowed her eyes, gaze flicking from me to Ford and back.
“Keep your hands off of him,” she ordered.
I rolled my eyes.
“Why?”
“Why?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because he’s not here on a date with you. He’s here on a date with me.”
I snorted and moved around her, heading to the bathroom.
It took me a while longer than I meant it to because I found a fish tank right outside the bar that was next to the bathrooms.
My eyes were on the tank when a throat cleared behind me.
“Oh, hey Trace.” I smiled. “I’m sorry. I got distracted.”
Trace grinned and came to stand beside me.
“Ford gave me the third degree while you were gone,” he said conversationally.
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ll just bet he did,” I sighed. “What did he say?”
Trace shrugged. “Nothing I didn’t expect… but you do know he’s in love with you, right?”
I laughed at that.
“That’s funny,” I snorted.
Because it was.
The idea that he was in love with me was just laughable.
What was even funnier was that Trace thought Ford would show that in front of Linnett.
“No, he really is,” Trace assured me.
I narrowed my eyes.
“How do you know?” I questioned.
He gestured to me.
“He talks about you like you’re his,” he answered. “And he didn’t even care that I was supposed to be your date.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “And I’m also sorry about using you.”
He waved his hand in the air.
“It’s nothing,” he assured me. “But I don’t think you have to try very hard here. He wants you. A lot.”
I knew Trace was a good guy, but wow.
“You’re great,” I said softly.
I had no idea when I explained to him how I felt about another man, that this was what I would be getting.
“It really was nothing,” Trace whispered. “And, just so you really know it was nothing, I’m gay. I really, really just wanted to go out and spend some time with a friend.”
I blinked. “Then why were you on a dating app?”
He winced. “My sisters. They think that by me being on the dating app, I’m getting out there. But… yeah.”
“They don’t know you’re gay?” I asked in surprise.
Trace snorted. “My dad would outright disown me. And I can’t let that happen. If he disowns me, my sisters will follow. I’m a quadruplet. We’re super close. They would straight up disown him right along with me.”
“That... holy shit! A quad!” I laughed. “How did that happen?”
His brows lifted. “Well, there’s this thing where a sperm and an egg…”
I slapped my hand over my mouth to contain the laughter.
“No!” I snickered. “I mean, how did it happen? Naturally? Were y’all test-tube babies?”
He shrugged.
“Naturally, believe it or not.” He grimaced.
He seemed like he didn’t really want to say anything more about the situation, so I changed the subject once again.
“What are you—”
“Drinks are here.”
I turned to see Ford at the end of the hallway standing with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Oh!” I clapped. “I completely forgot what I was doing.”
Ford narrowed his eyes.
“Linnett is driving me nuts,” he admitted. “I forgot how annoying she is.”
Trace snorted.
“Why do you think I got up to go to the bathroom?” he asked.
Ford looked to Trace, then back to me. I could practically see his mind spinning.
I clapped and gestured for the table. “Let’s go find something to eat.”
Ford waited until I passed to turn and follow me, making sure to place himself between me and Trace.
If I wasn’t so excited, I would call him on it.
Thirty minutes later, I’d had enough.
Ford wasn’t the only one to forget how annoying Linnett was.
Even nice guy Trace wasn’t able to stand up to the onslaught.
“Then I decided that I liked to work in marketing,” Linnett continued to chat. “When an opening came up here, I thought, well isn’t that where Ford moved to? So I decided to give it a try. So far, it’s only for a short three-month contract.”
I nearly picked up my fork and stabbed myself in the eye.
The only thing that was keeping me here at this point was that Ford had brought me.
I would’ve walked home, but the wind was picking up and it looked on the verge of storming.
And I would’ve asked Trace to take me home, but he’d been back and forth texting since we’d gotten back from the bathroom, and he looked distracted now.
“Who are you texting?” I asked conspiratorially. “Will whoever it is, call and give us an excuse to leave?”
Ford kicked me underneath the table, obviously having heard what I said.
Trace turned his phone.
He wasn’t texting.
He was playing Mario.
“Mario has an app on the iPhone?” I all but screeched.
Before I could reach for my phone, Ford had a hold of my hand and wouldn’t let it go.
My heart started to race.
“Not only no, but hell no,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes.
Then I moved quickly, twisting out of his grasp and moving until I was standing on the other side of the table closer to Trace’s side.
“That’s not fair,” I said to him.
“Life’s not fair,” Ford started to say, standing.
“Ford,” I said.
“Ashe,” he said just as sarcastically.
“Listen, GMC.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I need this.”
I couldn’t afford to move my gaze away from Ford or I’d chance him rounding the table and snatching me up. Or, more importantly, my phone.
I didn’t mind if Ford snatched my body up at all…as long as he didn’t take my phone.
“Jesus.” Linnett grumbled as she got up. “Y’all are embarrassing. I’m going inside to listen to the band. Ford, let her play the stupid Mario game.”
“Yeah, Toyota.” I shook my hips and upper body in a taunting way. “You should go inside and listen to the band.”
Ford narrowed his eyes at me, and I could tell that he was contemplating vaulting the table and coming for me.
“You’re making a scene,” he said, hoping that I would stop.
I wouldn’t.
But I had a feeling that we weren’t making a scene as much as he just wanted me to look away so he could make h
is move.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Are y’all gonna order? Or should I just get my food to go?” Trace asked curiously. “Because I’m starving, but I’m really tired. I had to work an accident today in the direct sun for hours. And honestly, getting home to sit in the air conditioning in my underwear sounds heavenly right now.”
Ford shook his head. “I think we’re gonna go, too. And, I don’t want to eat here.”
“Cool,” Trace said. “I’ll just order on the app since our waitress seems to have disappeared.”
Said waitress was talking to Linnett over by the bar where she was ordering a drink.
A massive margarita that she most definitely wasn’t going to be able to drink and drive home afterward.
Likely, she was counting on Ford to give her a ride, but that wouldn’t be happening.
The door to the outside opened, and a loud pounding amount of sound poured through, and I became extremely thankful that we hadn’t sat inside.
“Time to go,” Ford said.
I wasn’t falling for that. We were at an impasse right now. I couldn’t move, and he was waiting for me to slip up.
Because Mario was a big deal, okay?
Ford and I had a rivalry going that spanned twenty-plus years.
One time, out of desperation, our parents had sat us down in front of a television with Super Mario on the screen.
For the next twenty years, even now, we continued to play that fucking game.
And I was right on his tail.
Always.
But the only thing that saved us was that the game console was at home, in Benton, Louisiana.
The idea that Mario was at the tips of my fingers, though… yeah, it was about to go down.
Excitement poured through my veins, and Trace moved, allowing me to see his screen.
My breath caught as I watched him jump onto the green tunnel.
The next thing I knew, Ford was right beside me, latching onto me with an unbreakable grip.
And dammit if the high-handed ape didn’t bring excitement and butterflies to my belly.
Peripherally, I heard Linnett start to sing to the next song that was still coming through the propped open door. Linnett being the one that was now propping.
She seemed unwilling to go all the way into the restaurant and take her eyes off of us, but she also wanted to enjoy the music.
Bonus, she knew that the music would still cause me to have a headache if I had to listen to it too long.
“Tequila makes my clothes fall off!” Linnett hollered, dancing around the man that most definitely wasn’t her ‘date.’ He was the waiter that was trying to get through the door that she was standing in.
“No, Linnett,” I drawled. “That’s because you’re a whore.”
Ford clamped his hand onto mine and said, “Time to go. Have a nice one, Trace.”
Linnett didn’t even notice us leaving.
Trace did, however.
He waved as Ford tugged me into moving. “Have a good night.”
Ford snorted and led us to the cruiser.
“I’m driving,” I said as I got in.
“Whatever,” he muttered, walking to the passenger side door and getting in.
I got into the driver’s seat, pulled the seat up until I was comfortable, and then started it up.
Ford leaned his head against the window and sighed. “I’m starving. I can’t believe she went there.”
Ford didn’t mind the place that we went. He minded the country music that’d been pouring out of the speakers.
Ford hated country music.
The only reason he tolerated it half the time was because I liked it.
Any other time, he would leave it.
Ford was more of an old rock-and-roll, oldies, very old country type of man.
He hated new country.
Hated anything pop.
And really hated Taylor Swift.
Not because she sucked at singing, but because she sang ‘country’ that wasn’t ‘country.’ Even though I’d explained multiple times that she was now pop, and hadn’t done actual country in years.
At this point, I didn’t think that he hated the music as much as he hated that country had lost its way. And he was saying he hated it on general principle.
I drove silently through the streets, looking for my destination once I got close to where I wanted to go.
We were about two minutes away, and I could see the sign, when Ford finally perked up.
“What are you doing?” he asked, trying not to sound hopeful.
I flicked on my blinker and pulled into the parking lot that housed the new Ramen shop that he’d wanted to go to.
When next I looked over, Ford was practically dancing in his seat.
“Jesus, you’re so embarrassing,” I said as I parked.
When I rounded the car, Ford was there, practically picking me up and jumping with me.
I never knew what it was about the Japanese cuisine that had him so enthralled, but Jesus Christ, the man was obsessed.
I was willing to humor him, too, which made me his victim more than most.
“You’re giving me shaken baby syndrome,” I said when he shook me too long.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, placing me down on my feet. “But God, I really wanted to try here. I’ll never touch you again. I promise.”
And all the wind in my sails was suddenly gone.
In its place was a saggy pile of useless shit.
Sadly, he kept to his promise.
And when he finally dropped me off at home and went to his, there was not a single touch to be had.
Balls.
Chapter 11
If history repeats itself, I’m so getting a dinosaur.
-Ashe to Ford
Ford
Six weeks later
“All units be advised,” the disembodied voice of Royal, the dispatcher working today, said. “I have a report of a 2930 at 1254 Hillside Lane. The victim called and said that his neighbor shot him in the nose. He’s returned to his residence, but the shooting happened at 1244 Hillside Lane.”
I looked at where I was located and knew it would take me at least ten minutes to get there.
“Unit 5353 responding.”
The husky female voice had fucking terror sliding through my veins.
Ashe.
Ashe. Officer 5353. Unit 5353. Responding.
Son of a bitch.
Today was her first official day of ‘work’ not on probation. She’d spent the week going to classes and was at the bottom half of working Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, twelve-hour days.
It was her sixth hour into her third twelve-hour day, and I knew that she was tired.
Just by seeing her this morning, I knew that she was exhausted.
I wasn’t sure that she was going to be able to keep it up, to be honest.
And then now she’s responding to an active shooter situation?
I didn’t like the feeling that was pouring through my chest at all.
Not one fucking bit.
Putting my foot down on the accelerator and using my lights and siren, I made it to the house five long minutes after Ashe arrived.
Heart pounding in my chest, and an uncomfortable feeling rocketing through me at just how worried I really was, I made my way down the driveway and took in the scene.
Ashe was standing at the corner of the grass, her eyes on a couple of teens who were trying to talk over each other as they explained what had happened.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I came up beside them.
Ashe turned to me and looked as if she was about to kill the two kids.
“I think we can allow the medics on scene,” she said softly. “It’s just these two kids right here. They’re likely going to laugh when they find out what happened.”
I frowned, my eyes going to the two tee
ns. One teen, in particular, had a red welt on the end of his nose.
And that’s when it hit me.
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re getting it now. This one” —she pointed at the no-welt kid— “shot this one in the nose with a BB gun.”
She moved her arm to the kid with the red dot on his nose, then re-crossed her arms.
“From what I can understand, they thought it was real. Both started freaking out. 911 was called, and here we are,” she continued.
My heart, still pounding too hard in my chest, was making me sick.
I looked at the two teens, then reached for the mic at my shoulder.
“Yeah, you can call the medics in. Scene’s secure,” I said into the mic.
“10-4,” Royal replied over the air.
Moments later, the medics were rolling up, as well as the fire engine and two more police cars.
It was only found out moments later, as the kid with the welt was getting checked out, that the one kid had indeed thought the gun was real. And he was actually trying to shoot him in the face.
Once we found out, the kid tried to run.
At some point, after getting all the information out of the kid with the welt, kid two was told to sit down and sit still.
Only, when I went to find him again, he was gone.
When next I looked up, it was to see a black truck barreling down on us.
I moved just in time to watch the truck whizz past me and slam so hard into Ashe’s police cruiser that the horn started to blow.
The kid’s truck came to an abrupt stop, and the cops swarmed him.
Ashe, standing not even a foot from where the truck had passed, stared at us in abject horror.
Literally, right before my eyes, she’d nearly been run over.
Right. Before. My. Eyes.
I used a little more force than I probably should have, slamming my hand down hard on the kid’s head and shoving him down onto the ground beside the mangled truck.
“You’re done.”
I gave my position up to Sammy, understanding that I wasn’t in the right state of mind to be dealing with the little shit.
Once I was up, I looked around for Ashe, finding her standing next to my cruiser with her arms crossed over her chest, watching the scene.
The boy who’d been shot in the nose was in the ambulance not a foot away from her, which was where Ashe’s attention was directed.
I used the time that she wasn’t paying attention to me to walk a bit away and draw in a few deep breaths, trying to tell myself to calm the fuck down.
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