“It might have spoken in tongues, too, had it actually existed,” I say.
He shudders. “I don’t scare easily, but demon babies scare the fuck out of me.”
“Question,” Hunter chimes in, raising a hand as if he’s in school. “What happens when the fuck is scared out of you? Does that mean you can’t, I dunno, fuck anymore?”
Shaw pumps his hips. “I can always fuck.”
Are these guys for real? There’s a call to go on, and they’re trash-talking.
Granger knows it too, and with two fingers in his mouth, he issues a powerfully shrill whistle. “Children, shut the hell up. We have serious matters to tend to. Got a guy out on Vintage Oaks Road. Says he has a bug in his penis.”
I cringe but school my expression. It can’t be worse than the vegetable wearer or the Tide swallower. But God, I fucking hate dick calls. “We just need to take him to the ER, right?” I ask, nodding toward the ambulance so we can get the hell out of here.
Shaw shoots me an are you kidding look. “Dude, you’re a paramedic. Don’t you think you should try to fix the problem, stat?”
Yeah, I’m going to need to revise my stance on staying stoic. “That’s why doctors get the big bucks. To remove shit like that.”
Granger claps my shoulder. “You use the forceps to get it out.”
I die inside. This is the worst. Give me the unbathed masses needing transport, any day. “Okay,” I choke out.
He lifts his chin, studying me. “What? Is this hard for you, city boy?”
I swallow harshly, squaring my shoulders. “We’re on it.” With my gear in tow, I head to the passenger side of the ambulance, Hunter to the driver side.
“No sirens needed for this call,” Hunter says. “It’s only a mile away.”
Granger calls out as I get into the vehicle, “Don’t you guys want to know what kind of bug it is?”
Not really. “Sure.”
Granger and Shaw join us in the garage. The boss man’s face turns graver than I’ve ever seen him. Shaw looks at Granger, almost as if he’s saying take it away.
Granger clears his throat. “It’s a . . . cockroach.”
They both spill into laughter, doubled over, hands on their bellies, faces contorted. Hunter joins in too.
I couldn’t be happier to be the butt of a first-week prank. I get out of the van, laughing too. “You fuckers.”
Shaw points at me. “You passed, man. You passed the initiation.”
As I head home that night on my bike, I ride past the spot where Officer Sexy As Sin stopped me. I’ve ridden this road every damn day since I’ve been in town, actually, wishing for her siren.
But one of these days, I’m going to bump into her again, and I’m going to get her number and then some.
Because that insta-lust is strong, and I don’t think even a demon baby could scare it the fuck out of me.
4
Perri
“Let me get this straight—you’re saying for a full half hour they were just kissing?”
The question comes from Arden as we gather at the bowling alley on Friday evening. Vanessa’s joined us for a quick game while one of her employees mans the check-in.
I grab my neon-pink ball from the return. “Like they were in seventh grade, making out after sixth-period science class behind the shed on the dirt path behind the school.”
Vanessa raises one skeptical brow. “That’s very specific. Oh, wait. That’s where you kissed David Bruno for the first time.”
“How could you forget? She called us over to her house and made us listen to the story ten times,” Arden chimes in.
I bask in the memory of when I first experienced the glory of French kissing. David and I had been dating for two weeks, which translated into going to Starbucks after school for Frappuccinos. One fine Wednesday after a particularly yummy mocha, we stole behind the shed and he planted his lips on mine, and we didn’t stop for the longest time. “And it was the most epic first kiss ever.”
Vanessa sticks out her tongue. “Only you would have an epic first kiss. You do realize most first kisses suck?”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I do, but mine didn’t. And I’ve been a devotee of epic first kisses ever since.”
Arden raises a hand like she’s in church. “Preach, sister. No other kind allowed.”
I take the ball, start at the end of the lane, and let it fly, knocking down five pins. When I turn around, I resume the report. “So today, it was a full-on make-out sesh on the bench in the town square. Which made me think . . . when was the last time you did that? The kind of endless kissing and groping that is only that—endless kissing and groping?”
Arden lowers her blonde head, a guilty-as-charged look strolling across her face. “Last night.”
I roll my eyes as I wait for the ball. “You don’t count. I know you do that all the time with Gabe.” She is ridiculously happy and in love with Gabe Harrison, a local fireman.
“We like making out. What’s the big deal?”
“But it always leads to sex, doesn’t it?” I grab the ball and send it down the lane again, knocking over two more pins, since my bowling game is incredibly, ridiculously average.
Arden scoffs as she grabs a bright-green ball from the return. “Isn’t that sort of the point? We don’t have to make out behind sheds anymore, or stop above the waist. We can go . . . wait for it . . . all the way.”
Vanessa sighs happily. “Sex is seriously one of the best parts of being an adult.” She heads to the ball return. “Or so I’m told. It’s been ages since I’ve done it. The penis still goes into the vagina, right?”
Arden nods, her face serious. “Yes. I can draw you a diagram if it would help. It’s basically insert-this-tab-into-this-slot, and you’re good to go.”
Vanessa taps her temple. “Good to know it all still works the same way it did circa 2017, should the opportunity arise again. But for now, I’ll live vicariously through your Kissing Bandits.”
“Me too,” I say as Vanessa takes her turn. “They were into each other, the kind of into that leads to tabs going into slots. But it turns out they were simply practicing for this kissing contest fundraiser in Whiskey Hollows, in the marathon division, they said. My boss is entering the contest too.”
“Ooh, the chief of police will be competing,” Vanessa quips.
“And he wants our precinct to win. Don’t get me wrong—I love how the wine-country towns have banded together since the fires to raise money for those on the front lines, but I can’t imagine wanting to make out with somebody for that long. Eventually you’ll run out of spit.”
“Or interest.” Vanessa snags her phone and taps the screen. “But there are other categories. My sister and I were talking about it the other night. You can enter the marathon one, you can do sweetest kiss, or even the most passionate kiss category. And attendees bid on who they think will win each category—that’s where the money comes from. If you bid correctly, you win prizes donated by local businesses. But all the money raised goes to first responders.” Her eyes light up as she scans her phone. “Ooh, they have a category for the best reenactment of a movie kiss or book kiss. I’ll have to mention the book kiss to Ella.” Vanessa’s sister is the town librarian.
Arden pumps a fist. “Book kisses for the win.”
I peer over Vanessa’s shoulder at the phone, reading the details. “That’s a good reason to make out, come to think of it.”
Arden gives me a quizzical stare. “Is there someone you want to enter a kissing contest with? Maybe have a kissing marathon with and give that couple a run for their money?”
I scoff. “Like who?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How about that guy Toby you went out with a few weeks ago?” She heads to the end of the lane and sends the ball down the hardwood.
“The hotel clerk? He was nice and all . . .”
“But not enough bad boy in him?” Vanessa teases. My girls know me so well.
I laugh. “Yeah, duh.”
After knocking eight pins, Arden squeezes my shoulder and adopts a serious voice and meets Vanessa’s gaze. “Vanessa, have you met our friend Perri? She only likes bad boys.”
I raise a finger. “Correction. I like the look of bad boys. I don’t mind if they’re actually good underneath the bearded, inked, and smoking hot exterior.”
The guy on the bike has the audacity to invade my thoughts. He keeps doing that.
“Talk about specific.” Arden laughs. “Sounds like you’re describing the hottie you pulled over the other day.”
“Oh, gee. Was I? I hadn’t realized,” I say playfully, since I told them about Mr. Speedy.
“Have you looked him up?” Vanessa asks.
I don’t know a thing about Derek McBride, except that he’s someone who moved to town to help out his sister, or so he said. “No, I’m not going to look him up,” I scoff.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to pick up someone I pulled over. And I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone, since I have a promotion to focus on.”
“Fine. But you should still enter the kissing contest,” Vanessa says as Arden finishes her frame.
“Who would I enter it with? Whether I do the marathon, the reenactment, or the most passionate, it doesn’t matter. Jump the recording back ten seconds—I’m not involved with anyone, and I don’t want to be involved right now.”
Vanessa stares at me. “Please, girl. You don’t need to be involved to enter a kissing marathon. Plus, I bet you can find someone who’d lock lips with you for a good cause. In fact, why don’t we have a little gentlewoman’s bet and see who can raise the most money for charity?”
“In a kissing contest?” I ask. “Arden’s totally going to reenact Scarlett and Rhett, right?”