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“Motherfucker! Not again!”
About half of the townspeople passing by on the sidewalk turned to look at me, aghast. Mothers covered their innocent children’s ears. Hell, even Arlo the duck—so named by me—lifted his head from pecking at whatever the pet store had put out in a dish for him.
I was officially the town potty mouth. Did I really think I would make an appropriate wife for a cop?
Yes.Yes, I damn well did. Because no one would love that cop more than me. Besides, he’d do his job better because he was going to be sexually satisfied every night and some mornings too.
I marched toward my no-longer-an-eyesore bus. However, the other cop he worked with was going to get an earful from me. I snatched up the ticket, ready to blister the ears off anyone who had the misfortune of being nearby.
And saw a damn smiley face written in pen with the wordsHappy Halloweenand a little broom. Or a stick.
Happy freaking Halloween?Had Christian had a psychotic break? Mav had mentioned he’d taken a few days off last week, which was uncharacteristic for him. Maybe he’d gone to the beach, discovered there was more to life than work, work, work.
Maybe he’d even—gasp—gotten some.
I knew good sex certainly put a pep in my step. Part of why I was so perky today, hopefully imminent nuptials aside. Mav had given me some extra glow this morning before he’d made me pancakes.
I mean, the guy was basically perfect. Unless he turned me down, and then I would not be responsible for my actions.
Speaking of, I should make sure he knew he had plans tonight before I went to kick cop booty. Because something was clearly wrong with Christian, and it was my duty as a Cove denizen to find out what he was doing—and who.
Van: Got plans tonight, Officer?
Mav: Hoping to bewitch you.
Van: Oh, that’s already happened. I’ll be waiting for you at eight. Come find me. *wink*
Mav: Oh, I’ll come, all right. See you then.
I rushed down the street to the cop shop, wondering if I should just let things lie. It was Halloween and I had a man to seduce—and hopefully get engaged to—which required prep work. Shower time, shaving time, makeup time, illicit lingerie time. I also had to decorate the bus with a few important accoutrements. At least we didn’t need to worry about condoms anymore. Though realistically, we’d obviously never needed to. Our kid was determined to be born.
I hoped that remained true.
Before all the arrangements, I needed to talk to my sister. I’d left her out of too much important stuff lately, but I was on sisterly thin ice right now. I wanted her to know what was going on. Besides, I was so happy I could burst.
You know, in between being scared witless.
So I really didn’t have a ton of time to be hassling Christian. I could be benevolent in my current fully sexed state. If the guy was happy, good for him. Free love was a beautiful thing.
I needed to put my rainbow peace sign decal back on my bus. Assuming Mav hadn’t tossed it out when Gideon’s crew was repainting it. The man I was marrying was a wily one.
My eyes narrowed on the door of the police station. A closed sign hung front and center.
Closed? Since when? There were cars in the lot. Not many, and I knew Mav and Brady both were off-duty today, but Mr. Stick Up His Butt should be there. And there was another sedan I didn’t immediately recognize. Hey, had Christian drawn a stick to represent his personality?
Another puzzle to add to the list. In the meantime, I was going in. The cop shop wasn’t supposed to close. What if I needed assistance, for Pete’s sake?
I rattled the door and it opened without hesitation. Hmm. I rushed inside, headed around the corner to the small break room—and shrieked.
Two people were on top of the damn table. Or partially atop it. Close enough.
And they were not doing a crossword.
Hands were roaming. Hair was mussed. Clothing was askew—and a bountiful breast was out of its holster.
Dear God. It couldn’t be. Not Honey and Christian freaking Masterson.
TWENTY-FOUR
