“Well,” my soft-spoken friend says, “I’m married with a baby, so can I say showering alone?”
“No one should ever shower alone,” Machlan teases.
“Trust me. When you have kids, things like showering and peeing with the door closed is the guiltiest of pleasures,” Lauren sighs.
“That’s so, so sad,” I lament. “And also, why I’m not sure I ever want kids. I don’t want to give up … me.”
Lauren’s eyes sparkle, partially from the lemon drop martini she downed like a camel and partially from thoughts of her baby girl. “It’s so worth it. Every hour of no sleep. Every night with screams of colic. Every poop bomb that goes up their back—”
“No kids.” Machlan laughs. “I’m getting on that train.”
“Speaking of pulling trains …” Emily says, her eyes pinned on the back of the room.
Peck strolls in, an Illinois Legends cap stuck backwards on his head. Blond, unruly locks peek out from under as he makes his way toward us.
Machlan takes all but three seconds to stand upright. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” Peck says, stopping at the head of the bar.
“And who are you?” Emily says, unconcerned with the look being exchanged between Machlan and Peck. “You look like a great time, baby.”
“Em, hush a second,” I say, waving her off. My heartbeat strums a little too quick, causing my lips to part to catch more air. With this guy, anything is possible. His heart is pure gold, but his actions aren’t always logical. “What did you do, Peck?”
“I didn’t do anything.” He squishes his face together. “Not really. Just if anyone asks, I’ve been here since eleven.”
“Seriously,” I tell him. “Is this better or worse than the time you got thrown out of the skating rink?”
“I was fifteen,” Peck deadpans. “But this is better. Or worse.” He side-eyes Machlan. “Bob Shaw’s tractor might be sitting in the middle of the road out by the water tower.”
My head falls back as Machlan groans.
“I didn’t do anything but borrow it,” Peck insists. “I was going to bring it back. I just kind of ran it out of gas.”
“Did Bob give you the keys? Say, ‘here, Peck. Borrow my tractor at midnight’?”
When Peck doesn’t respond, Machlan punches him in the arm.
“Um, Nora?” Lauren asks. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great,” Peck says, brushing off Machlan. “What were we talking about?”
“Guilty pleasures,” Emily chimes in. “Have one?”
Peck’s boyish grin gets a sigh from Lauren. As dark and outright sexy as Machlan is, his cousin is the opposite. Tall, thin, with baby blue eyes, Peck’s attractiveness stems from his charm. He’s kind and sweet and a little goofy—totally Lauren’s speed if she weren’t married.
As I look at Emily, it might be her speed too.
“Back off, Em. You’d kill him.” I laugh.
Peck scoffs, his lips pressed together to bite back a grin. “You underestimate me, Nora.”
“Oh, do I?”
“You most certainly do.” He folds his hands in front of him, leaning on the bar. His Nirvana t-shirt is a little washed out and smells like the outdoors as he moves. “My guilty pleasure, huh? I like s’mores.”
“S’mores?” Emily grins. “I can get with that.”
“I’m starting to think you can get with whatever comes through the door,” Machlan jabs.
“You judging?” she asks.
Machlan shakes his head, turning his attention to me. “Where do you find these girls?”
“She actually found me in the bathroom of Court Pub over in Lancaster,” Emily groans. “Long story. Bad night.”
“Great story. Entertaining night,” I offer. “I guess we see it a little differently.”
“I didn’t look good with no pants to put on. It doesn’t matter how you look at it.” Emily gives me a pointed look then promptly affixes her attention on Machlan. “I actually look great with no pants, if you were wondering. Just not that particular moment in time. I can prove it.”
Machlan laughs, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “I gotta get out of here, Nora. Can you finish up?”
“Sure. I just have to check the register and I think it’s good to go. I can lock up …”
My voice trails as a sound raps on the door. Machlan and I glance at each other. This is why he doesn’t let me stay alone at night, afraid someone will pop in late and try to rob me. It’s never happened and I can’t see it happening in Linton, but it’s a hard and fast rule of my boss. Either he stays or Peck stays, sometimes even his friend Cross comes by to walk me to my car. It’s sweet, predictable Gibson boy behavior.
“Stay put,” Machlan says, rounding the corner.
We sit quietly as Machlan peeks out of the blinds next to the door. He pulls away, his eyes lit up. “It’s Kip,” he whispers.
“Ah,” I moan as Peck’s eyes grow wide.
“Shit,” he says. “Remember: eleven o’clock. I was here from eleven until about … half hour ago.”
“Hang on, Kip,” Machlan says, hiding his laugh. “Door is stuck.”
The knock continues along with muffled threats from the other side. Machlan, ignoring everything Kip is telling him, waves a hand at Peck to follow him. “Let’s go.”
“Isn’t that aiding and abetting?” Lauren asks.
“Yup. And it’s gonna be so much fun.” Machlan cackles. “Nora, cover for us.”
My friends look at me in amazement as I shake my head, watching the two boys leave through the back. My attention is turned back to the door when Kip pounds on it again.
“Girls,” I say, looking at Lauren and Emily, “you’re about to meet my guilty pleasure.”
The door lock unfastens easily, the cool night air blowing in. Standing in the doorway in his brown uniform smelling of spice. He gazes down at me with his deep, dark brown eyes and lifts a brow.
“What can I do for you, Officer?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
My friends giggle from behind me, but Kip doesn’t seem to notice. His gaze is leaving a trail of flames over my face, down my chest, across my stomach that’s clenched at the site of him, and rolls over the apex of my things.
“Now or later?” he asks.
“Do I get a choice?”
The corner of his lip upturns, his gaze settling over my shoulder. “Business first, darlin’. Is Peck here?”
“Nope.”
His eyes dart back to mine. “I know he’s here because his truck is out back.”
“Well, he was but left about thirty minutes ago.” I shrug.
“Did he leave with Machlan?”
“I have no idea.” I smirk.
“Nora!” Lauren hisses. “You can’t lie to an officer.”
Kip grins, the gesture soaking my panties. He works his chiseled jaw back and forth, his eyes narrowing. “She’s right. You can’t.”
“I think you can’t do lots of things with a police officer that I’ve done. Seems very tit for tat, doesn’t it, Kip?”
He takes a step toward me but stops when Emily speaks.
“Do you guys need some alone time?”
My stomach twists into a tight knot as Kip licks his lips.
“Yes, ladies. If you don’t mind. I need to speak to Nora in private,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “I believe she has information she’s withholding.”
“I bet you do,” Emily teases.
The sound of them gathering their things and their heels clicking against the floor doesn’t register. All I can hear is the slight uptake of breath from the beautiful man in front of me. All I can feel are his eyes slowly undressing me in the doorway. All I can taste is the sweetness of his lips that haven’t touched mine. Yet. But they will. They always do.
Thank God.
Two
Nora
Emily slides into the passenger’s seat of Lauren’s car seconds before Lauren pulls out onto the road with a promise to not fall asleep until I get there. That’s all fine and good. I hope it’s a very long, wet time before I show up to Emily’s house.
Kip takes a step, the another, toward me. I back into the heated bar, the door snapping closed behind us.
“Well, Nora,” he says, his boots heavy on the floor. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m wet?” I offer, leaning against the bar. “My pussy throbs? Does that suffice?”
His grin darkens, his eyelids growing heavy. “I’d say it’s a good start.”
“You want more detail?”
“Always,” he growls. He stands so he’s in between my legs, the fabric of his pants rubbing against the tender skin of my legs. “Why didn’t you answer my calls this week?”
“I was busy,” I tease.
“Too busy to return a fucking call?”
“Well, if I knew the call was about fucking, I might’ve answered.”
“Is it ever about anything else?”
Grabbing the lapels of his shirt, I jerk him toward me. “It better not be or I’ll never answer it again.”
His lips crash against mine before I get the last syllable out. He breathes in the words, captures them with his mouth. My hands are in his hair, working the silky strands between my fingers as our kisses grow deeper.
Our tongues dance as his hands grasp my ass, fingers digging into the denim covering my bottom. He lifts me up, sitting me on a barstool, never breaking the kiss.
My head spins like it does every time we hook up because that’s just what it is—a hookup. That’s also why it’s amazing. I can enjoy myself, be myself, and then be myself with someone else tomorrow if I want to. It doesn’t matter.