Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  “Yeah, my roommates and I are a little more security conscious in Raleigh.”

  “Good thing.”

  “So you find being a cop interesting, but you’re not really into it.”

  “It’s part of a bigger plan,” he said, turning onto the ramp for I-85 South.

  “Where are we going?” Lolly asked, amused.

  “Brooks didn’t tell you?”

  “No. He just texted me that he’d pick me up at seven.”

  “He texted you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Are you telling me that Brooks, Golden Boy Bennett did not call you up and properly ask you out for dinner? That he just texted you a time?”

  Lolly nodded.

  “He’s worse than I thought.”

  Lolly laughed. “I was fine with it. Really.”

  “Really? You were fine with it?” Vance pressed. “A nice, safe, boring text.”

  When Lolly reiterated that she was perfectly fine with the text, Vance gave her one long oh-really look before punching the accelerator and shifting his father’s Corvette into the next gear, tossing her back into the seat. He repeated the process twice, blowing the speedometer well past the one-hundred-miles-an-hour mark.

  All it took was a quick glance to see Lolly’s eyes shining over a big I-love-to-go-fast grin.

  “You do realize we’re breaking the law right now,” he said.

  He glanced over to see her nod, nervous laughter tinkling out of those heart-stopping lips.

  “Not really a nice thing to do, me being a cop and all,” he said while easily maneuvering the Vette around a car they’d cruised up on in the fast lane. “Probably not all that safe, either, considering the speed limit is seventy-five.” Then he shot across the three-lane highway and up the exit ramp, downshifting quickly as they flew to the top, gliding to a stop at the very last second. Vance turned his head and stared hard at the woman whose hand was at her throat, whose breathing was rapid, and whose eyes sparkled above a dazzling smile. “Not. Boring.”

  Lolly fell back into her seat. “Definitely. Not. Boring.”

  ***

  When the call came in at 4:57 that afternoon about Mrs. Darley’s pit bull, Pansy running loose around the elementary school, Brooks figured it would take no more than a half hour to lure Pansy to him with one of the dog treats he kept in the trunk of his patrol car and deliver her back to the Darleys. Pansy was just a puppy, as sweet as sweet could be, but she was big and muscular, and that breed struck terror in the hearts of some no matter how often you reassured them that all pit bulls weren’t killers.

  Pansy turned out to be the least of his worries. Once she was back on a leash, all the kids who’d run away screaming, climbing up fences and onto playground equipment to get away from her, now wanted to pet Pansy. So he used that opportunity to talk to them about what to do when confronted with any stray dog.

  On the way back to his patrol car, ninety-year-old Dottie Lewis waved him over to her old gray Cadillac to thank him for taking care of that incident with her paper boy. This created a traffic jam he needed to unfurl because she’d stopped right in the middle of the street to do it.

  When he finally got Pansy up to the front door of the Darleys’, no one was home. They were probably out looking for their dog, so he strolled Pansy over to their long-time neighbors, the Craigs, hoping they would take Pansy off his hands so he could head home and shower before picking up Lolly.

  The Craigs said they’d be happy to puppy-sit Pansy but while he was there, would he please take a look at something going on in the backyard?

  In disbelief, Brooks used his cell to call the fire department while staring at a wire so live it was spewing sparks and had already burned up half an oak tree. It was then that he made the decision he was now starting to regret.

  Instead of calling Lolly and explaining the situation, he called Vance.

  It was a snap decision made because he didn’t want Lolly left hanging. Since his house was already halfway to the Magnolia Grill, he’d head home for a shower while Vance picked her up. It made a lot of sense when he’d first thought of it––what with the tree burning down in front of him and all.

  But now the thoughts running through Brooks’ head resembled something akin to a Stephen King horror flick.

  Over the better part of the last hour, his imagination had run rampant. It started with some very pleasant highlights of Lolly from last night, snapping to an image of her on the training table in Vance’s office, and then back to last night and her falling apart in Brooks’ arms. Then he saw her misty-eyed gaze as she commented about Vance’s freaking hands.

  Fucking A.

  He loved his friend, Vance. He truly did. He’d given up a lot for him, in fact. But where women were concerned, well…he’d seen it happen enough in the bars or at a party. He or Duncan would be talking to some cute babe and make the mistake of blinking their eyes only to find that Vance had stolen her attention right out from under them. Next thing you knew, his hands would be massaging her shoulders or sliding over her ass as his body moved in for the kill. Around women, Vance turned into something predatory and dark, something totally different from who he really was. Like a werewolf when the full moon hits, he didn’t think Vance could control it or was even aware of it. But it was there.

  And all that might make him sexy and alluring to a lonely female. But what they didn’t know about his buddy is that Vance did not like women. At all.

  Intentional lovin’ and leavin’ might not be against the law, but Brooks suspected Vance found it a very satisfying way to punish the female population. And Vance was Commander and Chief when it came to that rally cry.

  You didn’t have to be a psychologist when it was all so obvious. Though Vance had never once discussed the ugly part of his childhood, it was there, deep inside him. And just like that full moon, the hurt Vance suffered turned him into a dirty dog where women were concerned.

  So the visual in Brooks’ head causing his blood pressure to spike as he opened the door to the Magnolia Grill was of a fangs-bared Vance leaning over a torn and tattered Lolly in a booth, in the back, in the corner, in the dark.

  A tinkling of laughter brought back the light.

  Seduced by the sound, Brooks headed into the well-appointed bar area. There stood Lolly, sweet and fresh, not a bite mark on her, talking with Vance and Annabelle Devine’s crazy Aunt Helen who he’d never, ever seen crack a smile. But tonight she was beaming a grin and chatting merrily as Brooks approached.

  “Officer Bennett,” old Aunt Helen greeted him by name. “Did you wrestle that beast, Pansy, to the ground? Haul her into the pound and lock her away for good?”

  “Something like that.” Brooks nodded, taking the wrinkled old hand held out to him. “I see you are holding court as usual.”

  “Well, someone has to warn Miss DuVal about Officer Evans, for goodness’ sake. And what in the world are the three of you doing fifteen miles outside of Henderson?” She leaned in and lowered her voice, her flinty eyes squinting above a pursed and wrinkled set of lips. “Are the three of you planning a ménage à trois?”

  Brooks couldn’t help himself. “We’d be happy to make it a foursome.”

  “Oh you….” She shook her finger at him as they all laughed, then she tapped his cheek with her hand. “Go on and get. All of you. You’re going to scare off my date. He’ll be thinking I brought my grandchildren along.”

  Lolly, Brooks, and Vance headed off toward the dining section, wishing Aunt Helen goodbye before turning to each other and making gruesome faces. “A date?”

  “Is she serious?”

  “She’s got to be a hundred and twenty years old.”

  “Maybe she’s an undead. They’re in the news a lot lately.” They chuckled about that as the hostess ushered them to a quiet table in the back where they would not be overheard. Exactly as Brooks had requested.

  Lolly scooted into one side of the luxurious booth and Vance into the other. Brooks followed Loll
y and felt her hand on his leg as he settled himself next to her. He looked over and she smiled at him. “Hi,” she said shyly.

  “Hi,” he said back. Their eyes met and held, hers dark blue and happy. His gaze lingered, taking in her smooth skin, flushed cheeks, and pink lips. If Vance weren’t across the table, he’d have kissed them. Instead, his hand moved over hers and squeezed it. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Lolly shook her head as the waiter arrived. He was dark-haired and young. Lolly’s age probably, with an engaging grin and a name tag that said ‘Harry.’

  “Harry?” Brooks and Vance said at the same time.

  “You were the bartender at Henderson Country Club on New Year’s Eve,” Vance went on.

  “And you two were the cops who had to watch what they drank.”

  “Which is why we are here and not at the Club,” Vance smirked. “So bring us a round of tequila shots with a beer chaser and then a good bottle of red when dinner arrives.” Vance looked over at Brooks, who gave a shrug of acquiescence.

  “You sure?” Harry smiled under twinkling eyes. “Last time I served shots of tequila, your buddy Duncan fell in love with Annabelle. And seeing as there is only one rose sitting between you thorns, this may not be a good idea.”

  “How the hell do you remember Duncan and Annabelle?”

  “Because they were sitting at the bar New Year’s Eve while you two kept sending trouble their way.”

  Brooks looked over at Vance, grinning. “Damn. We did do that, didn’t we?”

  “We sure did,” Vance answered proudly.

  Brooks turned to Harry. “You have a heck of a memory. You ever considered becoming a cop? We could use a guy with a memory like yours.”

  Harry simply smiled indulgently—almost as if Brooks was a dumb-ass—but it was impossible to take offense. There was just something about Harry.

  “What are the chances?” Vance said with a touch of bewilderment as Harry moved away.

  “Guess he was just helping out on New Year’s Eve.” Brooks shrugged. “Must work here regularly.”

  “He’s cute,” Lolly chimed in.

  Both male heads turned to stare at her. “Cute,” she insisted, her eyes darting between the two of them as she tried to backpedal. “Like a puppy.”

  “Like a puppy?” Brooks questioned.

  Lolly shrugged. “I’m just saying.” She ducked her head and took a sip of water.

  Brooks laughed. “You’re the one who’s cute,” he insisted, bringing his hand up and running a thumb across her cheek.

  Vance cleared his throat. “Do you mind? How ’bout keeping your hands to yourself while I’m sitting right here?” He looked over to Lolly. “It’s hard enough swallowing the bitter pill that he asked you out first,” he said with a wink.

  Lolly blushed and gave a short giggle. Brooks smiled at the sound. Like the color of her eyes, it held happiness.

  Harry and his magic tequila shots arrived and were set before them with great flourish. Each had a lime wedge tucked on the rim of the glass. A salt shaker was set in the middle of the table and then tall, glistening pilsner glasses filled with a cold amber brew were spread amongst them. Harry eyed Lolly with a flirtatious grin. “My car is out back,” he offered, “if these two become too much trouble. Now,” he addressed the table at large, “is everyone having steak?”

  Brooks checked in with Lolly, who nodded readily. “Steak it is,” he said.

  “Trust me,” Harry said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I bet he will,” Vance said as Harry sped away. “A toast,” Vance offered, picking up the salt shaker and licking his hand. He applied the salt, handed the shaker over to Brooks, and then lifted his shot glass while removing the lime. “To the accumulation of knowledge and insight,” he toasted, eyeing Brooks.

  Lolly glanced between them before following along with the salt, shot, and lime ritual.

  “Okay,” Vance said as he licked his lips before slamming his shot glass down on the table. “It’s time to get down to business.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lolly’s stomach gave an eager little twist. What with the narrowing of Vance’s eyes and the captivating stillness that descended over Brooks, she could not wait to hear what all this was about.

  “Lolly,” Vance started. “We thought we’d better discuss this outside of town, just to be sure we wouldn’t be overheard. What we want you to do for us is a little out there. Can we count on your discretion?”

  Lolly blinked a couple of times. “You don’t want me telling anyone about this,” she clarified.

  “Exactly. Not that my reputation would suffer because it’s crap already. But Brooks has aspirations of running for office one day, and well…we don’t want anything…you know, to jeopardize that.”

  Lolly looked at Brooks. “You want to run for office?”

  “Mayor,” Brooks clarified.

  “So,” Vance went on, “it’s important we have your word that whatever takes place between the three of us stays between the three of us.”

  Lolly felt herself nodding her agreement as her brain latched on to the words “between the three of us” and started spinning them, making her woozy. The three of us. The three of us. The three of….

  Oh shit! Every fiber in her body tensed and went on full alert. They did overhear me tell Darcy I’d take them both! She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t hear. She was aware that Vance’s lips were moving, but in her panic she was only picking up words here and there.

  “You know…telling me…milquetoast boyfriend.”

  Oh, no. No, no, please no. She was mortified. She felt her cheeks burning up. Oh My God. What must Brooks think of me?

  “Occurred to me…you might be willing to….”

  She reached for her beer.

  “Do…Brooks and myself.”

  Lolly tilted her beer up and chugged three long pulls. Oh My God! Are they seriously asking me to do a three-way? Crazy Aunt Helen was right. And my mother! My mother said she wanted me to have fun, but this? Dear God, Dear God, Dear God. What am I going to say? Okay, okay. Focus. She took a deep breath, set her glass on the table, and tried to concentrate on exactly what Vance was saying.

  “And let me say right up front that Brooks is here somewhat under duress. I mean, after your date last night, he’s really not all that interested in sharing you with me. Can’t blame him. But he knows I need this, so he’s agreed to go along with it, as long as you are up for it.”

  Two sets of eyes––one blue, one green––were trained on her, expecting a response. Instead of calling them kinky bastards, she picked up her beer again and tried to drown herself. She really wasn’t comfortable with this. She knew girls who would be, but she’d never imagined herself in this kind of scenario. Would she regret saying ‘no’? The two of them were so gorgeous and––

  A hand on her arm stopped her train of thought. “Lolly? Are you all right?” Brooks had her hand and was bringing it and her beer glass back to the table. She snuck a peak at him and his face was full of concern, like she was losing it for no good reason.

  Are you kidding me?

  She released her glass, put both elbows on the table, and put her face in her hands. She couldn’t look at either one of them when she said, “I’ve never done a three-way.”

  “What the fuck?” Brooks exploded, as Vance slapped a hand on the table and convulsed into laughter.

  “Jesus, Lolly! What the hell did you think Vance was asking for?”

  Lolly popped her head out of her hands and took in the scene before her. Vance was beside himself with glee. Brooks was appalled. With her?

  “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I guess I got nervous with all this talk of secrecy and my imagination ran away with me. But it definitely sounded like you…wanted me to––”

  “No! We definitely do not want you to do that,” Brooks insisted, cutting her off.

  “Well, hell, if it’s up for discussion, I’m all for it,” Vance said.
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  Brooks leveled Vance a malevolent stare. “It is not now, nor will it ever be, up for discussion,” he threatened.

  Vance threw up his hands and collapsed back in his booth. “A three-way would be far from boring,” he sang. Brooks’ fist landed on the table. “I’m just saying!” Vance added.

  “Well, obviously whatever you were saying has confused Lolly. So, how ’bout I take a crack at this?”

  “Be my guest,” Vance offered, folding his arms across his chest. “I can’t wait to hear the good cop spin.”

  Brooks turned to Lolly, only to find her expression caught somewhere between hysteria and mortification.

  “I am so…embarrassed,” she said quietly and then placed her forehead gently on the table.

  “You’re embarrassed?” Brooks said as if he were the one suffering mortal humiliation. His large palm rubbed a gentle circle over her back. “Lolly, please forgive us rednecks for being so obtuse.”

  She turned her head slightly, blinking at Brooks. “I’m not sure actual rednecks use the word obtuse.” She lifted her head and sighed, unable to look at him. “There is nothing to forgive. It’s my fault, I assure you.” She took a deep breath. “Gratefully, I assume I am covered under our prevailing state of discretion, so the fact that I jumped to that ridiculous conclusion will not leave this table?”

  Both Brooks and Vance nodded. Vance’s face sported a rather overzealous smirk.

  “Then,” Lolly went on, “obviously whatever it is you do want me to do, you are now fully insured and assured that I will keep it confidential.”

  Harry arrived at the table with large wedges of lettuce covered in blue cheese dressing and sprinkled with pieces of bacon, tomato, and red onion. He also placed before each of them a fluted wine glass and then proceeded to open a bottle, describing the vintage, the winery, and what they were supposed to taste. He looked over at Lolly and winked.

  “Stop that,” Brooks scolded. “She already thinks you’re cute. She knows your car is out back. And with the way things are going, I’m worried she’ll run off with you before you bring out the steak.”