LOVE ‘EM(8)

Of course.

Men.

“That ridiculous bet. That’s why I stopped.”

His face says he doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

“That bet you announced on national television, making it almost impossible for Shay and me to refuse?”

At least he has the courtesy to look embarrassed that he didn’t remember that life altering, career demolishing moment he engineered.

I wilt. “Look, the thing is—”

A cough from the doorway pushes me a large step away from Jackson.

“The thing is that this bet might end both of our careers. But, I imagine you don’t give a shit about that. Do you, Jackass?” Shay scratches her head, bleary eyed. “Sorry, I meant, Jackson, of course. Oh, and your winky’s about to escape.”

He tosses her a fake smile and does up the front of his pants. “Aw, don’t worry. Don’t they say all press is good press?”

Shay yanks open the refrigerator, her butt in the air as she rummages through what’s left of this week’s groceries. “We’ll see about that. If you cause my friend here to lose book sales, I’ll have to kick your ass.”

Dickey Bird squawks. “Kick ass. Your ass is grass. Jackass is grass.”

“You tell him, Dickey.” She bumps the fridge door closed with her hip and slams the coffee creamer onto the counter.

“I stopped by to invite you two ladies to dinner this Friday. I thought we could choose your victim.”

Victim? Seriously? “You’re talking about a real live person, who’s going to walk unsuspectingly into a trap.”

Jackson glances from me to Shay. “Nah it’s only a trap if they fall for it. And if they do, then that’s on them. Right, Leave ‘Em?”

Shay pulls back a fist as though she’s going to let him have it. “Don’t make me hurt you. I’m sure you’d get some press if I turn you into a one-nut wonder.”

I should let her pop him one. Alas, she is my friend. I jump between them before Shay winds up in jail.

I push Jackson toward the front door. “Maybe you should go.”

He blows a kiss to Shay, whose back is turned as she stirs her coffee—of course, her other hand is in the air, flipping him off.

I lightly smack his arm to get him moving. “Go, would you? You two are like a couple of bickering children.”

“Hey, she started it.” He grins.

I can’t help but smile at him. “Shh. You’ll get her riled up. Not the best idea first thing in the morning.”

Outside, he takes my hand as he heads toward his car. “Seriously, I meant it about dinner. I’ll pick you two up. Around seven?”

A seed of wariness sprouts in my gut. “I don’t know. I think you may want to steer clear of Shay for a while. She’s pretty pissed about this bet. I’m not super happy about it either.”

When we get to his car, he leans close and brushes his lips across mine.

He lightly squeezes my fingers. “I promise, it’ll be fine. Nothing can go wrong. You’ll see. Trust me.”

I pull my hand free, giving him a doubtful shake of my head. “Trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to remedy that. I’ll see you soon, Love ‘Em.” He winks as he gets into his car.





THREE





Please, God, let me get off the street before it dies.

The car sputters and chokes. I let off the gas and take the right turn, coasting along. The entrance to the pet store’s rear parking lot mocks me.

I pat the dash. “Come on, Sweet Sue, you can do this. Just another fifty feet to a spot in that lot.”

A jolt throws me against my seat belt. I wrestle the steering wheel, trying to guide the car to the metered parking spot at the side of the road. There’s no way we’re making it to the other side of the street.

The car rolls to a complete stop.

Here? It has to die here? Eight more feet, and I’d have been in the spot. Great, now I’ll have to push the car.

Shit.

I hit the button to turn on the hazard lights. I jam the gear shifter into neutral and get out.

Luckily, traffic is light at the moment.

Damn it.

I grab the door frame with one hand and the steering wheel with the other, pushing.

Push. Harder.

“C’mon, Sue, roll. Just a few feet.” Tightening my grip on the car, I try again.

Progress. She moved—all of about three inches, if that gum spot just under the edge of the door is anything to measure by. I’m sure it was closer to the front of the car a moment ago.

I’m sure.

I hope.

The breeze blows my hair into my face, I brush it back.

“One more time. This is it, Sue.” My hands strain against the car, and my shoes grip the pavement.