Fireball (Cheap Thrills #1)(39)

Putting the wand back in the tube and throwing it into the basket of makeup beside me, I gave myself a final look over. I hadn’t gone all out, but I’d attempted to look natural, but better than natural. You know the natural makeup look that takes forever, but looks like you just threw it on and you don’t look much different to this without it on – but you totally do? That’s the look I was rocking right now.

“Go stand over there so I can see what you’ve got on,” Jose instructed, making a shooing motion with her hand.

Walking backwards, I stopped when she held her hand up. “Well?”

I’d put on a short light blue denim skirt with buttons up the front. It was tight and looked awesome against my new Texas tan. Let it also be said, that I hadn’t purposefully gotten the aforementioned tan. This had happened naturally thanks to shorts, the blazing hot sun of Hades shining down, gardening, and falling asleep next to the pool. On my top half, I was wearing a racerback tank in a turquoise color that had subtle sprays of a paisley type pattern sporadically placed all over it. There was only a slight shade variation between the pattern and the color of the tank so you had to look closely to see it, but I loved it and how it looked with my hair.

This was an issue that I was plagued by too – bright pink hair meant colors clashed with you and you had to take extra care picking clothes to wear. I must be the only woman who goes into the changing rooms in a store to hold up a garment next to my head to check in the mirror. I knew my size, I knew what my body shape suited, but color was a whole different matter.

Whistling, Jose gave me a slow head nod as she looked me up and down. “Me likey! What are you wearing on your feet?”

“Shoes,” I deadpanned, rolling my eyes as I walked over to where I’d put a pair of sandals which had straps that wrapped around your ankle.

“Smart ass. Well, I was expecting to tell you to change and put on the short turquoise sundress in your closet, but I think I like this one better.”

Shit, I’d forgotten about that sundress. Maybe I should change into it? Just then, there was a knock at the door and I looked over at Jose starting to panic.

“What are you waiting for? Go and get the officer of the law to stick his baton back into you!”

“He’s taking me on a date,” I hissed, picking up my phone and making my way toward the door. “Not sticking his baton into me.”

“Oh, come on. We’re all friends here. The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone, the thigh bone’s connected to the hip bone, and just in the middle is Tabby’s vagina ready for the sheriff to connect his bone into it too.”

Unfortunately, I was opening the door as she said the last bit, meaning that Dave got to hear it. For a second he looked confused by what he was hearing, and then he looked down and saw Jose painting her toenails on the screen, not realizing she had a new audience. The owner of the baton bone himself.

His burst of laughter got her attention, and her head snapped up to look at the screen in horror. “Oh shit.”

I maybe should have waited to open the door, but I’d been too focused on the butterflies going around in circles in my stomach to wait for her to finish. I also thought she was singing me the song most kids learned in elementary school about which bones are connected to which. I was such a twat.

“I’ve never heard that version of the song, Jose,” he wheezed, circling his arm around my back and pulling me into him. I’d realized that this was his standard way of greeting me over the last couple of days, like he needed that closeness after not seeing me for a while. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it was no hardship being pressed against him like this. “Might wanna look at the words to it before you teach it to your daughter though.”

“Oh shit,” she whispered again, still staring at the camera with the same expression on her face.

“Maybe we should let Ellis know about it?” I suggested, smiling when she looked even more uncomfortable at the thought. Score! “I wonder if his bone is like a baton too? But I’ll bet he has handcuffs…”

She was just about to say something back when Dave reached over and hit the end call button, saving us from whatever crudeness had popped into her head. Taking it out of my hand, he put it into the back pocket of his jeans, and then that arm joined his other one around me.

Leaning in, he gave me a kiss on the nose, and then the lips. “Hey, baby,” he rumbled.

It had to be said, Jarrod had a great voice, but Dave’s made me think of dirty things no matter what tone and volume he spoke in.

Leaning into him and tipping my head back a bit more, I noticed he’d tidied up his facial hair slightly since I’d seen him earlier. When I’d asked why he didn’t just go full lumbersexual instead of the short boxed beard he had, he’d told me that each police department has different guidelines. Some allow the full-blown beard, others preferred that you didn’t. Equally, some even allowed visible tattoos on the hand and neck. The Piersville guidelines weren’t too harsh on beards, but years ago a friend of Dave’s had been involved in a tussle with a suspect. The suspect had grabbed hold of the big beard his friend had and had used it to yank the man’s head around leading to a sprained neck and the suspect getting away. During his time on the lam, he’d almost raped a young woman before they caught him, making Dave’s friend feel even worse. Since then, he’d kept his beard in a shorter style. Can’t say I blamed him, plus the shorter length suited him and made him look fierce, like a well-groomed lion. Rawr!