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I paused to point at the detour sign. “So she immediately moves one of their paisley-print couch pillows onto the floor and gives him a blowjob.”
“Oh, this is the Goodwill Hunting joke. The one she tells in the bar.”
“Would you shut up and let me finish? It’s not the Goodwill Hunting joke.” I glared at him. “Anyway, she finishes the blowjob and wipes off her mouth, and he says, ‘Thank you, honey. That was amazing.’ She settles back in her recliner and they continue to watch the news.”
“Hilarious joke.”
“A half-hour later the phone rings and the old man picks up the receiver and says hello. After a beat of time, he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs it back up. His wife waits for an explanation. After several minutes pass, she asks him who it was.” I paused for effect. “Her husband shrugs and says ‘How would I know, cocksucker? It was for you.’”
Easton took a moment, then laughed. “Funny.”
“It is funny,” I protested, a little miffed he hadn’t found it more so.
“Aaron’s mom told that joke?”
“Oh my God, in front of the entire wedding party. Becca turned white with embarrassment.”
He paused. “So, uh, you’re the cocksucker in this scenario?”
“I’m the cocksucker.”
“Literally and figuratively.”
I laughed and he braked at a stop sign, then leaned toward me, cupping the back of my neck and pulling me toward him. Navigating around the veil, he kissed my lips. “I love you and I will always respect you.”
“Thank you.” I kissed him back, then settled into the seat, thinking over everything he’d said. “So, if I wanted to, you’d be okay with doing something like that again?”
“Yeah. And if you don’t like the idea of the club’s website, we can try something else.”
I chewed on the inside edge of my cheek. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Easton was right. We had to go all the way around on Fulton, then back north, and twenty minutes passed before we pulled up to the guard shack of Chelsea’s neighborhood. A security guard waved us forward, then approached the car. E rolled down the window.
His gaze flitted from Easton to me and zeroed in on my veil. His face hardened. “I take it you’re here for the Pedicant event?”
“Yep.”
“Name?”
“Easton and Elle North.”
“Do you have any animals, weapons, or noise-creating items?”
“Uh… no?”
The man peered at him. “It doesn’t sound like you’re certain about that.”
I leaned across the armrest. “I don’t understand why it’s any of your business if we have any of that stuff. You’ve never asked me that before.”
“We’ve had multiple complaints from our residents about Miss Pedicant’s… event. We are keeping order best we can.”
“Oh my God.” I sat back into place.
“We don’t have anything like that,” Easton said.
“Please give our regards to Miss Pedicant, along with a reminder that the association noise ordinance goes into effect at ten p.m. In fifteen minutes.” He held out a pass, which Easton tossed onto the front dash.
The iron gate before us began to move, a slow and arduous process that seemed to take even longer than usual. I waited until E’s window was up before I spoke. “What was up with that? Asking if we had animals? What if we’d brought Wayland?”
“Or your can of pepper spray.” He grinned.
“I wonder how many people she invited, if they’re already getting complaints.”
“Well, you know what this neighborhood is like. They’ve had it out for her ever since she moved in.”
“Yeah. I told her she should have bought the house on our street. Half our neighbors are too deaf to hear anything.”
“Shit.” E came to a stop at the intersection before her street. “Look.” He pointed to a row of cars parked on the side of the street.
“What? You think those are for her?” I craned my neck forward, trying to see the end of the line of vehicles. “No way.” We were a quarter-mile from her house, if not more. There was no chance the parking was backed this far up.
“Does that answer your question about how many people she invited?”
Ahead of us, a car was stopped in the middle of the street. As we watched, partygoers in skimpy black outfits crawled into the back.
“I think it’s a shuttle.” He spun the wheel to the left and pulled out, going around the vehicle, which ended up being a hearse.
“She’s really sticking to the funeral theme, huh?” I glanced in the side mirror, watching as the long car began to follow us.
“Looks like it.” He turned down Chelsea’s street, where the parked cars clogged both sides of the road. “I’ll drop you off out front.”
“I have her garage opener. She said we can park there.” I bent forward and opened my purse, looking for the small fob.
“Yeah, I’m not sure that will work.” He nodded toward Chelsea’s driveway, which was a parking lot of cars. “Just hop out here. I’ll park, and then come and find you.”
