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“Mr. Ranger, we’ve got this.”
“Did you grab her, Mr. Tustin?”
“Not any different than anyone dancing in a club would. Touches and squeezes.”
I raise my eyebrows and level my eyes on one of the deputies. He raises a finger to creeper, interrupting him.
“Miss Morgan, is that right?”
“I never made a play for him nor asked him to make anything good for me. That’s absurd. I was rebuffing him and trying to add distance between us as he reached out. That’s not the touch of people dancing. That was the touch of control.”
“Bitch,” Gerald spits.
I look back at the deputy. “This isn’t going to get anywhere with an audience. Do you need a sworn statement from me? I’ll do whatever you need, but I won’t listen to someone lie and demean my character. Not after that same person physically assaulted me and threatened more.”
Again, there’s a flex at my back. At least I’m safe in a situation that feels so out of control.
The lead officer steps back, and his circle follows to discuss something privately.
When they return, one comes straight to Layton and me. “We’re going to make this quick. You mind staying put for a few?”
I nod as a deep, “Whatever you need,” rumbles above me.
Officers move throughout the space with one making his way to Gerald as Art still hangs near him. Another goes to Marshall. Yet another starts walking through the crowd.
I shiver, only now realizing how cold it is without the throngs of bodies pressing in and the exertion of dancing.
Layton pulls my back flush against his front as Bean approaches. She widens her eyes at my situation. “Well, this was…” She looks around at the people milling about and the officers questioning and taking notes. “Eventful.”
“We can’t ever say we’re bored.”
“Seriously.”
“Remind me to consider police activity when choosing a wig and shoes next time.”
“This is a thing?” Layton asks as he extends a hand to my friend. “I’m Layton. I didn’t mean to be rude earlier.”
“Sabine.” She shakes his hand. “How do you two know each other?”
“We work together,” I offer Bean. To Layton, I add, “Not our first rodeo. But it’s the first time requiring law enforcement.”
I can’t be sure, but I think I hear, “And your last.”
SIX
I’M FUCKING LOST
LAYTON
It’s late. I drive Pix and Sabine to the pink cottage on the beach, not bothering to request directions. She doesn’t ask, and I don’t explain. I put the car in park but leave it running and move around to the passenger door to open it. Livy holds my eyes a little longer than normal as I extend a hand. She takes it, looks at the truck running board, and back to her ridiculous shoes.
“This is not a statement about your ability,” I begin before reaching and plucking her out of the cab and placing her on her feet. “I know, I know.” I do air quotes. “‘I am woman, hear me roar,’ and all, but those steps”—I look from my truck to her—“And those shoes were not made for each other.”
My hands linger just a moment too long on her waist. She’s a colleague, after all. So, even though I don’t want to, I release her and step backward, leaving her room to get to her front door.
Colleague or no, I definitely watch her ass in that little skirt as she walks away from me.
“Thanks, Layton,” Sabine says, exiting the back door and shaking me from my thoughts.
