by Liz Kelly
Either he was fixing this with Piper, or he was going to get laid.
Christ.
He phoned Brooks.
“I’m about to do something stupid,” Vance said. “And since Lolly will probably cut my balls off when she finds out, I’m giving you the chance to talk me out of it. Meet me at the Club.”
Chapter Eighteen
Harry The Bartender had served Vance a second shot by the time Brooks walked in. The two of them watched Brooks glad-hand his way through the tables, smiling his big grin at everyone, spreading sunshine all over the damn place. It made Vance wonder why he bothered to work so hard on Brooks’ campaign. If the guy so much as hinted that he’d like to be mayor, Vance had no doubt the town would carry him on their shoulders to the Mayor's office, toss the incumbent out on his ear, and place Brooks in it. Then they’d commission a crown to be sculpted, declaring him king at the swearing in.
Vance glanced at Harry.
“King does have a nice ring to it,” Harry agreed.
Vance pounded his fist on the bar and growled. “I did not say that out loud. How the hell do you do that?”
Harry waved him off. “It’s certainly not rocket science.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Vance said, but he was interrupted by Brooks.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “You manage to hold off stupid ’til I got here?”
“Yes, but after two shots, stupid is starting to look a lot like a good idea.”
“I hear ya,” Brooks said before he downed his shot. “Mmm. God, that’s good. Harry! Hit me again.”
“Really?” Vance said. “What stupid thing are you trying to work into a good idea?”
“Third Base,” Brooks said after a long “Ahhh” following his second shot of tequila, “if there is one thing I’m learning, it’s that when it comes to the Final Frontier, stupid is standard operating procedure.”
“Final Frontier?”
“That one, sweet morsel of womanhood that is so perfect, so satisfying, once discovered all you can do is settle in and stake your claim.”
“So, Lolly’s…lady parts?”
“Are making me crazy. I enjoy staking my claim.”
“And it’s made you stupid.”
“So stupid that the words, ‘Anybody can finish off your momma’s wedding dress, but you’re the only one who can finish me off,’ actually came out of my mouth.”
“Dear. God.”
“Yeah. Like I said, stupid.”
“Harry! Two beers, please. And do me a favor,” Vance said, handing Harry his phone. “Call Pinks. Tell him to fill up the big cooler, grab The Outlaw and my truck, and pick us up in an hour.” Vance looked at Brooks. “Tonight you and I are taking the S.H.I.T.s to the lake.”
“The shits?”
“Super Heroes in Training.”
Brooks laughed so hard he fell off his stool.
***
Boom, boom, boom—one email after another was quickly read and then answered or discarded. Piper was on a roll as seven o’clock on Friday evening turned into eight o’clock and then nine. She was handling things with speed and alacrity, staying at the office to open and delete the slew of emails she’d let pile up in her inbox for close to a month.
The last emails she went through were not personal, but general interoffice blasts. She liked to know what was happening with the rest of the firm and reading and deleting the string of emails served that purpose. She was close to the bottom of these, feeling genuine relief at having taken the time to get through them. With three to go, she read and deleted one, causing the next to open automatically.
It was a picture taken in the maternity ward of a hospital showing off the family portrait of a young father, mother, two-year-old son, and their brand new baby daughter.
Piper’s breath caught at the sight of the photo, her body tense and tingling, unable to move. She knew she should just hit the delete button, but her eyes latched on and devoured the precious expression on the toddler’s face and then the pink baby bundle in the woman’s arms. “A boy and a girl,” her heart sighed. The longing she felt was poignant. The connection she felt, keen.
Because those precious little ones could have been hers.
There had been a time when she was busy planning her wedding to the man in the picture, and in just five short years he’d fulfilled their dream of a family—with another woman. He now had what she’d always wanted. Children to dote on, a family to raise. A household to love and care for. That’s what the two of them had planned together. It was her dream. It was his dream. And she had taken that dream and thrown it away with two hands.
Because her mother had died in the middle of it, and Vance Evans had shown up at exactly the wrong time.
***
Back in Henderson, it was the perfect July night—less humid with an actual breeze—for an impromptu by-the-lake party, and the crowd kept gathering. Brooks and Vance sat on the tailgate of Vance’s truck, the large cooler vertical between them. They were situated far enough away from the action that their cop personas would not spoil anybody’s fun, but close enough that they felt like part of the party. They kept their eyes on Pinks and The Outlaw as the two did a meet and greet, working their way into the good graces of the Henderson faithful.
Newcomers were unique and welcomed, especially if they were connected to an influential family. It seemed from the look of things that Davis Williams and Jesse James—two boys from the North—were taking Henderson by storm.
“So you gonna talk about why you can’t take your eyes off of Racy Lay’s ass?” Brooks asked.
“Been in a drought for a long time now,” Vance said, taking a swig of his beer. “Just admiring the view.”
“Bullshit. It’s becoming pretty apparent I’m here to talk you out of taking an unsuitable woman into your bed.”
Without taking his eyes off of Racy’s ass Vance said, “I cannot confirm or deny. Besides, it looks like I’d have to fight Pinks off. And who’s to say that Racy Lay is unsuitable?”
“Lolly for one. Annabelle for another. And who am I forgettin’ here? Uh…oh yeah, a lady by the name of Piper Beaumont. Pretty little thing, about this tall,” Brooks said holding his hand five feet from the ground, “tiny little waist, fabulous tits, and an ass that would kick the shit out of the one you’ve been staring at. Any of that sound familiar to you, idiot?”
Vance shook his head and met Brooks’ WTF stare for about a tenth of a second before he had to look away.
“Start talking or I’m out of here,” Brooks threatened.
Vance ran his hand over the back of his neck, groaning. “Just too much bullshit between us,” he said. “She’s as screwed up as I am.”
“Well, who the hell isn’t?”
“You aren’t. Lolly isn’t.”
“Like hell. I walk around this town pretending to be the answer to everybody’s prayers because the jackass superstar that came before me let everybody down. And Lolly—Lolly has named her business after her jackass father who refused to marry her mother. Everybody’s screwed up and we are all in this together. So lay it on me. What the hell is so blasted wrong with Tinker Bell—Goddess of the yellow polka-dot bikini and pastry chef extraordinaire—that you aren’t doing your damnedest to get into her pants right now?”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? Piper—the real Piper—is practically perfect in every way. She’s exactly as I remember in grade school. Sweet. Kind. Caring. But The Lawyer Beaumont, who Perfect Piper pretends to be, is an angry, aggressive bitch on wheels. I pulled her over on her way out of town Sunday night just to tease her, and she was not amused.”
“No one has ever been amused when I’ve pulled them over.”
“I'm telling you when that switch flips, she doesn’t even look like the same person. A total Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She treats every cop who crosses her path like he’s a link to whatever the hell happened to her in college. And I am no exception to that rule.”
“So yo
u—not being much of a cop and with everything else you’re involved in—are letting your badge get in the way of hooking up with your hologram? What part of that makes any sense to you?”
“Being a cop is part of me. If she can’t handle that part of me, she certainly isn’t going to be able to handle the rest of my bullshit.”
“What rest of your bullshit? This is your bullshit. If your mom gave birth to the fucking Prince of Wales, she still would have walked away. Her leaving was not about you. Grow up for Christ’s sake. If Piper has a problem with cops, be the cop who helps her get over it. Fucking A.” Brooks pulled out his cell phone and started hitting buttons.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking my own damn advice and texting Lolly,” Brooks said. “Telling her I’m an ass and I want a do-over. And if you don’t pull out your phone right now and start texting Piper about what a truly classic ass you were to pull her over when you knew she had issues with cops, then I’m gonna….”
“You’re gonna what?” Vance challenged.
“I’m gonna let you take an unsuitable woman home tonight and then drop Lolly off at your doorstep first thing in the mornin’. If you think Piper’s a headache….”
“Pftt. Like I’m afraid of Lolly.”
“Blow me. We're both afraid of Lolly. There’s only one man in the entire world not afraid of Lolly, and he’s marrying Lolly’s mother.”
Vance had to smile at that. “You know, if things work out for you and the Lollypop, my father will be your father-in-law. Which means I’ll be your brother-in-law.”
“And with Lewis marrying my sister, he’s already my brother-in-law.” Brooks stopped texting and looked up for a moment. “Fuck Piper,” he said, going back to his texting. “Nab one of Annabelle’s sisters so we can hook Duncan into the network too.”
“Yeah, I’m going to pass on that.”
Bing!
Brooks looked at his phone, his broad grin spilling over his face. “Check this out.”
Vance looked at the picture of a short, pink dress. “So?”
“That’s the trench coat Lolly had on the night she came to the precinct to seduce me. The only thing she had on. But it got all botched up because her uncles ransacked your father’s wine cellar, remember?”
“That, I will never forget.”
“When the dust settled that night, I told her I wanted a do-over with her in the trench coat. She must have read my text about a do-over and thought that’s what I meant.” Brooks began texting her back.
“You aren’t setting her straight are you?”
“Hell, no. I’m telling her to put it on and come pick me up.” He finished texting and held his arms out wide. “Look what can happen when you admit you’re an ass,” he said, his eyes lighting up with humor. “Now stop being a pussy and admit what an ass you were to Piper.”
Vance pulled out his phone. “Fuck that. I’m gonna tell her I want a do-over.”
Chapter Nineteen
Piper sat there, numbly staring at her ex-fiancé’s family. She didn’t cry. She felt too empty for that. But she stared and stared and contemplated the evidence of how much his life had expanded in five short years compared to how her own life had stayed the same.
Sure, she was good at her job, but it was never who she had planned to be. She had planned to be the woman in the hospital bed, in love with her new baby and her sweet family. She didn’t plan to be the little lady lawyer who had pissed off enough cops that one of them felt it was necessary to be her unofficial bodyguard.
Dear God.
That was it, wasn’t it? That’s exactly why Officer Stevenson had been following her around lately. He didn’t mean her any harm, but apparently he knew someone, or several someones, who did.
Ohmigod.
All those insidious thoughts she’d been holding at bay flashed as brightly as neon signs. Vance was right. She had been taking her anger and frustration out on every cop she came up against because of a single incident that happened twelve years ago. She had set out to get even for an injustice that had been done to her, and look where that had landed her—all alone and working on a Friday night.
She checked her watch—Oh, God—and worked quickly to shut down her computer and gather her things. Poor Officer Stevenson was probably standing around outside the office or waiting for her to show up at home. How the hell was she going to fix this with him?
She heard her cell phone ding, alerting her to a text message, but she didn’t have time to check it. She needed to find out if her suspicions were true. Mostly, right now she needed to get home safely, so Officer Stevenson could be free to live his life.
She grabbed up her yellow patent leather tote and headed for the door.
***
Vance checked his phone for the eighth time in an hour. He waited a full beer later to check it again. Nothing but his glaring “I want a do-over” message hanging pathetically out there in cyber space.
And what the hell was Piper supposed to say to that?
So Vance texted what he should have texted the first time.
“Piper. How badly have I messed this thing up?”
Because that’s what he needed to know. Could she overlook all he'd barked at her at a time when he was feeling particularly vulnerable?
Holy Jesus. And now I need to stop being a pansy and start having a good time.
For the love of God, he needed to lighten up.
“Pinks!” he called, hopping off the dreaded lonely tailgate to join the party. Pinks—ever the Boy Wonder—showed up immediately and fell into stride. “Which one have you got picked out?” Vance asked.
“Which one what?”
“Which one of these babes are you hoping to see naked?”
“Jesus, dude. That is not how I operate.”
“Which is exactly your problem. I’ve watched you all night talking and laughing and having a good time, and that’s great if you’re Brooks Bennett and running for office. But if you want to get laid, you need to focus.”
Davis stopped in his tracks. “Are you serious? Is this a one-on-one Vance Evans How to Pick Up Girls and Enjoy a No-Strings Sexual Encounter Workshop?”
“Isn’t that what you came to me for?”
“Hell, yeah,” Davis said, tucking in his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. “About damn time you get around to teaching me something I don’t already know.”
Vance smirked at that. The kid wasn’t wrong.
“Okay. First, stand still a fucking second and survey your domain. Running around and being all things to all women is not going to get you any of them. Pick one out. The one you really want to rub up against, not the one you want to take home to Mommy.”
“Roger. That.”
“Then, take your time and study what’s going on with her—who she’s talking to, who she’s looking at. Is she the shy type, hiding behind her girlfriends? Or is she drinking a little too much, attracting attention by dancing on a tailgate and looking for a different kind of party? And it doesn’t matter where on that scale your point of attraction falls. You just want to get a good feeling for what’s going on with her before you insert yourself into her present reality.”
“Insert myself into what?”
“Her reality. Her awareness. The easiest way to do that is to watch what she’s drinking and be right there the moment she needs another. Be her hero; offer a cold beer, or even a bottle of water. The night gets chilly, you offer her the blanket out of the back of your truck.”
“I don’t have a truck or a blanket.”
“Just an example, douche bag. It’s eighty fucking degrees. Try using that double-degree brain of yours. All I’m saying is to be observant, stay close, and look for your opportunity. If she drops something, pick it up. If she wants to dance, take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor. If she stumbles over her own two feet, catch her. You want to make an impression, and you want it to be personal.”
“Ahhh,” Pinks nodded, the d
awn of understanding lighting up his eyes. “This isn’t rocket science, is it?”
Vance smiled. His little intern was growing up. “No,” he laughed. “It is not rocket science. The biggest mistake is lack of focus. Women want to be the only one you have eyes for. So pick one and zero in.”
“All right,” Pinks said clapping his hands together and zeroing in. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Got a condom in your pocket?”
“Uh—”
“Gotta adopt that Boy Scout motto—always be prepared,” Vance said, pulling out a condom from his back pocket and handing it to Pinks.
Pinks looked at it and then raised his head. “You got another you can give me?”
“Jesus, kid. Why would I be carrying around two condoms?”
“Hey, you’re Vance Evans. If you don’t carry around two, who does?”
Vance slapped Pinks affectionately on the back. “Point taken. Now get in there and back some cute piece of ass up against a truck.”
“I will not let you down,” Pinks said.
Vance watched him go, his smile eventually fading. He ran a hand over the nape of his neck, looking around at all the women at his disposal and trying to stave off that old feeling of loneliness. “Piper, Piper, Piper,” he whispered. “Are you gonna respond or is this about to get ugly?”
He pulled out his phone to check it again just as a voice floated to him from behind.
“I enjoyed your pool party after the Fourth,” Lacy said, using her sweet southern accent to nail him right between the thighs. “The first time I’d ever been invited to the Evans estate. I’m not sure I had the chance to thank you properly.”
Vance turned, offering up his best smile. It was like a knee-jerk reaction he just couldn’t help. “Why, Miss Lacy Ray, what would a pool party be without you and your pretty friends showing up in those tiny, little swimsuits?”
Her eyes dipped to the ground, and Vance was pretty certain she was blushing, even if he couldn’t see it in the dark.