by Jody Wallace
“Probably me,” Lisa said with a muffled laugh.
“Dammit, Onion,” Heck hissed. “Why are you here?”
“Wait a minute.” Caroline elbowed him aside. “That’s Onion Meeks. He’s not a cop.”
“Go sit down,” Heck begged. “All of you, please go sit down.”
“I don’t believe it,” Jhi crowed. “It’s strippers.”
Caroline backed away from the door. “Onion Meeks is also not a stripper. He’s a fry cook at the Tallwood Diner.”
The rest of the party dashed for the den, finally, in a high-heeled stampede of giggles and shrieks.
In a rather anticlimactic manner, the new guests swaggered into the house. The short guy entered the room of women first, a stern expression on what Heck could see of his face behind mirrored sunglasses. Onion followed, holding a duffel bag and a set of speakers.
The short guy—who was the guy who knew the guy Onion knew, Onion being the guy Heck knew—handed Onion the megaphone and whipped his baton out of his holster. He addressed the crowd. “We received complaints of disorderly conduct from the neighbors, and I’m here to restore order. You can call me…Officer Sexy.”
Half the women laughed and the other half catcalled. Onion fiddled with the speakers, plugging them into an MP3 player.
Officer Sexy pointed the baton at each lady in turn. “Have you been bad?”
They all said yes, and some described their crimes, but he didn’t miss a beat. He was the professional, after all. Good-looking, clean-shaven, straight posture, and no stomach lapping over his belt. Heck hadn’t known what to ask for when he’d had Onion talk to his guy about finding Heck a guy to do this, so he was pleased the guy wasn’t ugly.
He just didn’t understand what Onion was doing here in a cop uniform, too.
The professional stripper, once he’d questioned each lady, pointed his baton at Heck. “Have you been bad?”
“Me?” Heck held up his hands. “Dude, I’m not part of this.” He planned to vacate the room while the actual stripping happened. That was not something he needed to see.
“That’s Officer Sexy,” the guy demanded. “Not Dude.”
Caroline, her lips twitching, said, “Officer Sexy, don’t let him fool you. He’s very much a part of this. He’s the maid of honor.”
“I’m going to wait this out in the kitchen,” Heck began. “Onion, you coming?”
“Naw, I’m apprenticing,” Onion said. “My pants rip off.”
Good Christ. If Onion was shucking his clothes, Heck was beyond out of here.
Officer Sexy was suddenly blocking Heck’s escape route. He smacked his palm with the baton.
“Who gave you permission to leave?” Though the top of his head only reached Heck’s chin, about the same height as Caroline, the stripper’s fierce attitude gave Heck pause. He caught a glimpse of his expression in the guy’s mirrored shades—pure panic.
“I don’t need permission. It’s my house,” Heck blustered. This guy had been hired to entertain. Embarrassing the male maid of honor would be entertaining to the women, as the guy doubtless realized.
“I think you need to sit your ass down, boy, and show some respect for the badge.” The stripper poked Heck in the chest with the baton.
Laughter erupted through the room. “You tell him!” somebody encouraged.
“Spank him good!”
Shonda patted the love seat. “Come on, Heck, you can have Frances’s spot. You’d better do what Officer Sexy wants, or he might have to handcuff you.”
“That’s right.” The stripper rattled the cuffs attached to his belt. “It wouldn’t be a first time, boy. Though maybe it would be for you.”
“Herman knows more guys than anyone realized,” Jhi said to Caroline. “I’m glad you held off telling him until after this.”
Ears burning, Heck seated himself beside Shonda. Caroline, in an armless chair as requested by the stripper, blew him a kiss.
Well, if it was making her happy, he guessed he could tolerate it.
Onion adjusted an MP3 player until a loud, bass-heavy dance song streamed out of the speakers. Officer Sexy warmed up with some thrusts and stretches that had the women applauding and raising their glasses. Heck tried not to look at the guy’s hips, but he kept pushing them at the audience, so it was hard not to. His leg muscles and other things bulged in his tight pants as he danced from person to person in the semicircle, threatening them with his baton.
When he got to Heck, he whipped off his sunglasses. “Are you looking at me funny, boy? You’d better not be looking at me funny.”
Heck covered his eyes. “I’m not looking at you at all.”
“I’m not looking at you, sir!” the stripper shouted. “What do you say, ladies? Should we make him show me some respect?”
Everyone screamed so loud it hurt Heck’s ears, and he didn’t exactly have great hearing, what with working around construction equipment all his life. In the background, he heard Onion holler like he was calling pigs.
Beside him, Shonda cackled and slapped her knee. “This is the best party ever.”
The baton tapped Heck under the chin. “Look up here, maid of honor.”
Heck sighed. “All right, fine.”
He straightened and eyeballed the stripper as if he hung out with guys named Officer Sexy all the time. The man glared at him, his jaw perfectly chiseled and his eyes like gray flint.
Then he winked. But that was his only acknowledgement of the absurdity of the situation. In fact, how the guy was keeping a straight face, Heck had no idea. Everyone was laughing so hard, it was about to make him laugh, too.
“I’d like to hear you address me properly,” the stripper said. “I’d like to hear you say, ‘Officer Sexy, you are so sexy.’” When he said the last part, he gave hip thrust that made Shonda snatch Heck’s arm and yelp.
Heck leaned back as far as he could in the love seat, despite Shonda tugging him. “I’m not saying that,” he declared, swallowing a snicker.
“Say it, say it, say it!” the women chanted.
“You’re gonna put up a fight, huh?” Officer Sexy flipped off his hat, twirling it on his finger. He had a blond buzz cut, like an actual police officer. “Maybe he can’t say it because I’m not sexy enough.”
He strutted to the sofa and asked the women there, in a deep voice, “Hello, ladies. Am I sexy enough?”
“Yeah,” they told him.
He popped the collar of his shirt and struck a pose, pointing at Caroline. “Are you sure?”
“Uh, no?” she suggested.
“That’s what I wanna hear.” He ripped off his uniform top and threw it at the bride, who caught it and laughed.
Heck blinked. The dude was cut like glass, and he started contorting his stomach in these weird ripples. That couldn’t be healthy for his spine. Then he let all the women touch his abs. Shonda made Heck touch his abs while everyone screeched. Damn guy was hard as a rock. Must be why he’d cost so much.
“Am I sexy enough now?” he asked the room while flexing his muscles.
“No!” everyone answered.
Onion turned the music higher and started doing an awkward, hip-stuttering dance in the background. Heck winced, glad everyone else’s attention was on Officer Sexy, who rid himself, in a routine that involved a lot more humping than Heck had ever wanted to see another man do, of his handcuffs, his baton, his gun, his belt, his pants legs, and finally, his boxers.
Everybody screamed. Heck might even have screamed.
Thank God the guy had a pair of briefs on underneath.
Not that the briefs hid anything. They were idiotically tiny, and Heck realized far too quickly they had no ass.
The stripper, who’d worked up a sweat by now, did some gyrating in his G. Ouch. He gave Caroline a special, close-up performance that made Heck clench his fists, and then proceeded to do things with his baton that shouldn’t have been legal.
Jesus. Heck wiped his brow on his sleeve.
Th
e officer strutted around the room, letting everyone fondle his baton. “Am I sexy enough?”
“Yeah!” the women agreed.
“Then how about we get the maid of honor to admit it? Officer Sexy, you are so sexy!”
“Officer Sexy, you are so sexy!” everyone yelled back.
“Now let’s hear from the big guy.” The stripper held out his baton to Caroline. “You wanna help me, honey?”
“Do I ever.” Caro accepted the baton from the stripper, who escorted her to the love seat. Her hips swayed, and her face was flushed. “Say it, Heck. Officer Sexy, you are so sexy.”
Heck flinched when the baton got too close. Chuckling, Shonda seized his shoulders. “He’s not getting away until he says it.”
“Say it, say it,” everyone chanted. Caroline smacked her hand with the baton like the stripper had done and tossed Heck an evil laugh.
“You have to do what she says. She’s the bride,” Officer Sexy chided him. Then he put his hands behind his head and did some hip pops. His package jiggled like it was in a paint mixer.
Shonda howled, and Heck covered his face.
When the noise escalated, he peeked through his fingers at Caroline, who had dissolved into helpless laughter at the stripper’s antics. She’d rubbed her eyes, and her makeup had definitely smeared on her cheeks.
Happy smears or sad smears? From her expression, he was guessing happy.
This was making her happy.
“So sexy,” she mouthed at Heck and fanned her face. Then she said something which might have been “I love you” and might have been that she loved her party.
Heck let his hands drop and admitted defeat.
“Officer Sexy,” he said, looking straight at Caroline, “you are so sexy.”
“Good boy.” Officer Sexy jiggled to the middle of the room and held out his arms. “Do you ladies want to see something special tonight?”
Of course they did. Everyone whooped and whistled. To Heck’s surprise, Caroline nestled onto the love seat with him and Shonda, waving the baton in the air.
“Tonight,” the stripper said, “you’re in for a treat. You’re getting two for the price of one. I’d like to introduce you to Officer Horse.”
Officer Sexy had been so mesmerizing, everyone had forgotten there’d been two officers at the door. Onion Meeks stumbled out to the center of the room and stuck out his chest.
“You may ask why he’s called Officer Horse,” the stripper said, strutting around Onion and pointing at people with baton. “That’s right. Ask me, honey.”
“Why is he called Officer Horse?” Caroline said quickly, before muffling a laugh against Heck’s throat. He could feel her smile.
He could feel her eyelashes tickle his jaw. He could feel her breath on his skin.
He could feel her kiss him, so lightly he wasn’t sure he was supposed to notice.
What the hell? He tensed, waiting to see if she repeated it, but Officer Sexy switched out the music on the MP3 player, changing it to a rowdy country song. Caroline tossed her hair out of her face and leaned on Heck’s chest.
“How about I let him show you?” the stripper said. “Give it up for the Horse.”
Onion didn’t have Officer Sexy’s style. He couldn’t dance. When he tugged his shirt off, it didn’t unsnap all the way, and he had to wrestle it over his head. The women clapped, encouraging him, but Heck could tell they weren’t buying it.
“Why did you include Meeks?” Shonda whispered. “I don’t want to see the man who makes my onion rings take off his clothes.”
“I didn’t hire him,” Heck replied, the sensation of Caroline’s soft, warm body putting him in a special kind of agony. Why had she kissed him? Because she was drunk? Or because they needed to talk about the thing he wouldn’t like? “He knows a guy who knows a guy. I have no idea why he’s here.”
Caro bent close and muttered to them, “Don’t look now, I think he’s going to—”
Onion ripped off his pants, and all hell broke loose.
This time Heck did scream. He screamed like a little girl. He and Caro and Shonda grabbed each other and screamed.
None of them, however, hollered as loud as Frances, who’d returned from wherever she’d been hiding once she’d realized the cops weren’t actually cops. Her black hair stood on end, and there was a scratch on her leg as if she’d crawled through brambles.
“Owen Reginald Meeks, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Onion, flaunting a bulge in his spandex so oversized it really did look like a third leg, whirled toward the doorway. And then he screamed.
For good measure, everyone screamed again.
“I thought you agreed not to strip in Tallwood.” Frances gestured wildly, her hands like flags. “These are my friends. And library patrons.”
“I need the money.” Onion pointed toward his crotch with both hands. “This is going to get me a new truck in half the time.”
“Onion is that guy.” Caroline threaded her fingers through Heck’s in her excitement. “The secret lover Frances wouldn’t name .”
Shonda chuckled. “She wasn’t exaggerating about his whatsis, that’s for sure.”
“You ladies were telling the truth in the limo?” Heck asked, amazed.
“That’s one difference between men and women, Herman,” Jhi offered. “We don’t have to lie about sex to impress our friends.”
“Do you think the part about his tongue is true, too?” Lisa crossed her legs and watched the floor show eagerly.
“Hold on a minute,” Officer Sexy said, dropping out of character. “Meeks, you know these people? That won’t work. First rule of strip club is, do not strip for your neighbors.”
“Is his name Tyler Durden?” Caro whispered, referencing one of her favorite movies. Heck buried his face in her hair and tried not to take advantage—holding her hand, pulling her tight. She smelled so good, like shampoo and skin and icing.
She’d started it. She’d started all this with her damned wedding, and now everything was going to hell. And he was helping it get there.
Onion scratched his head. “I thought the first rule was do not talk about strip club.”
“Depends on who you talk to,” Officer Sexy said. “Tonight the first rule is not to strip for your neighbors.”
“Put your pants back on right now.” Frances, shaking the police uniform, chased Onion out of the room. The front door slammed, rattling a vase on a side table.
“I think the show is over.” Shonda rose from the love seat and shook the stripper’s hand. “Officer Sexy, that was some good work. Thank you.”
The stripper slipped on a tracksuit and handed his card to everyone, refusing several invitations to stick around and avail himself of the festivities. With the stripper out of the picture, Heck’s guests headed for the exit, too.
Heck stalled them, or tried to. He’d planned games and activities. Quizzes. There was ice cream. The night was not supposed to be over yet. He’d done everything the booklet suggested. And once Caroline waltzed out his door, the next time he’d see her it would be when she was getting married to somebody else. Somebody who insisted she ditch her oldest friend.
Why did she want to marry that asshole anyway? Fuck Dan Armitage. He hated that guy. And right now Heck kind of hated Caroline for her bad taste in guys. For choosing a stuck-up bastard over… Him. She was choosing Dan over him.
Hell, yes, they were going to talk. Frankly. And soon.
She was not setting foot outside this house until she told him exactly what was going on. If she didn’t give him an explanation he liked, it was time for that drastic measure.
Chapter Seven
Caroline’s friends gathered their purses and party favors, everyone thanking Heck as he tried to prevent them from leaving. As uncomfortable as he’d been for much of the evening, he seemed genuinely disappointed the party was over.
She hoped he’d convince them to stay. She should tell them all, right now, about the wedding
, instead of waiting until tomorrow. But Jhi had convinced her they’d be annoyed she’d kept it secret all evening, while in the morning they’d be more sympathetic.
On the surface it might look as though she’d broken up with Dan because he was jealous of Heck, but she was finally doing the right thing, the fair thing, for Dan. He probably sensed it, too. After his initial suggestion that they try living together, he hadn’t argued. She and Dan never argued, unless it was about Heck. Dan claimed he loved her. He wanted to marry her, eventually. He made her feel…tranquil.
God, what did she know? The past weeks had been an emotional roller coaster. She’d be set on her track one moment, but then she’d notice Heck doing something Hecky and doubt she’d ever get over him, wedding or no wedding. She’d picked up the phone to call it off ten times and stopped herself just as quickly.
She loved Heck. And he loved her, just not the right way. The sex-all-night-long way. The wedding-and-babies way.
The rut she’d tried to escape, the rut she’d been in for ten years, waiting on Heck to have his stupid change of heart, was going suck her back in like a cesspit.
Hello, rut. I hate you like big industry and shady CEOs.
“I still have activities planned,” Heck argued as another guest hugged him. “We can eat ice cream and watch a movie.”
Lisa bounced over to Heck and fondled his biceps. “Oooh, have you got 9½ Weeks? I could get into that.”
Lisa was relentless in her pursuit of a love connection when she’d been drinking, but—Caroline smirked—Heck wasn’t buying what Lisa was selling. Of course Heck didn’t buy much of anything when it came to women, so it wasn’t that impressive, all things considered.
“No,” Heck said. “I got Sleepless in Seattle.”
“A chick flick?” Jhi asked, horrified. “Wouldn’t Fight Club be more fun?”
One of Jhi and Caroline’s reasons for bonding had been their shared love of action and horror movies. Since Dan was never here, she was glad to have somebody to watch them with. Heck preferred sappy, happy endings. Nothing ambiguous or depressing for him.
Heck frowned, the crease between his brows so familiar she wanted to kiss it. “What’s wrong with romance films? They’re my favorite.”