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“Shut up.”
“Huh?” Davis frowns at me. “What crawled up your pussy and died?”
What a piece of shit. But this piece of shit happens to be the sheriff’s son.
“Keep your foul fucking opinions about women to yourself.”
I set the coffee in the cupholder and glance at the diner. I have to get out of here. Much as I love fucking with Marci, hanging around her gives me unwelcome thoughts. It pisses me off.
“Oh, please,” Nate says. “Like you’re some fucking bastion of women’s rights? You’ve boinked half the town.”
“Consensually,” I reply.
The women I’ve been with have known the deal. I’ve never lied to get anyone into bed, which is exactly what Nate does to get what he wants. I despise working with this guy, but I don’t have a choice. Doesn’t mean I’ll accept his shitty views.
“Whatever, dude. You got a thing for her?” Davis asks, and guffaws like a psychopath. “Because you can have my sloppy seconds.”
The coffee idea is becoming more appealing by the second.
“Not only is that my sister’s best friend you’re talking about,” I say, “but a human fucking being. Not a thing. Not a meal. So shut the fuck up.”
“She’s not even worth the time. Fucking Walshes,” Davis murmurs it under his breath.
I start the engine, roll down the window, and lean my arm on the car door. Inside the diner, Marci’s smiling and laughing as she talks on the phone to someone. Must be Han or Jayjay. Her cheeks are pink, those green eyes alive with excitement.
She catches my eye and then flips me off.
I grin as I drive off, focusing on the road ahead and flipping my sunglasses down.
Heatstroke may be entering fall, but the heat isn’t gone yet. We’re patrolling today, looking for any signs of trouble, but with the tourists moving out of town, the calls we get are mundane. Drunk and disorderlies, one indecent exposure at the beach, and a suspicious guy hanging around the local bookstore. Turns out, he was a regular dude looking for a book to read.
I endure it with the sheriff’s son, who walks through the world like it owes him a favor. Makes me want to do the world a favor and give him what he’s owed. Knocking out another deputy is, uh, frowned upon, unfortunately.
We grab a couple of donuts from the popular donut joint in town, Doughies, and eat them with a view of the beach. Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead fueling the donut-lovingcop stereotype but I defy anyone to resist the crullers that Doughies turns out fresh daily.
“You ready?” Nate asks, casting me a sideways glance.
“You’re going to have to give me more than that,” I say, because I’m already thinking about Marci, and how ready I am to take her down at the potluck this weekend.
And hownotready I was to see her naked last night. The thought makes my dick twitch.
“For my father to retire,” Nate says, between chews. “For me to take over the reins. You’ll be working for me, soon enough.”
My chewing slows.
“You’re going to run?”
“Sure. It’s not like I won’t win. People in this town love me.” He waves at a passerby, and they wave back. “The Davis family has run this place for years, and I’m going to carry on that legacy.”
“I’m going to run too,” I say. “Guess you’ll have some competition.”
Nate snorts. “You’re going to run? You?”
“Yeah.”
“You?”
“You need me to slap you in the back of the head to get you out of whatever record skip you’re stuck in?” I ask.
