Page 49 of Mountain Man Officer

“That sounds good,” I said.

We ordered a bottle of wine to share, and each picked our own meal.

“Lindsey’s never been outside of Singer’s Ridge,” I shared.

“Is that true?” Macy gasped.

“Well, I mean, I’ve been into the neighboring towns throughout my life, but I’ve never really gone more than thirty miles from home.”

“We’re going to go to Rome for our next date.” I winked.

“That would be expensive,” she laughed.

“Where would you go if you could go anywhere?” Macy asked.

“I would go to a safari,” Dillon said.

“With all the animals?” Macy turned to her husband.

Dillon nodded.

“Maybe Florida,” Lindsey decided.

“We could drive to Florida,” I said.

She looked at me like she was considering my offer. I imagined a road trip with Lindsey. She could curl up in my passenger seat, her manicured toes on my dash. We could stop at a roadside hotel along the way and have sex on a bed designed for illicit trysts. We could have sex in my truck and on the beach, under the boardwalk where no one would see. I shook the fantasy loose, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation.

“There was a street performer who used to paint himself silver and act like a statue, but the minute I saw him, he would pick up his hat and run away,” Dillon was saying.

The girls laughed.

“I once chased this kid who had those wheels on his shoes,” I interjected. “He thought he was so slick, gliding down the street, when he fell on his butt.”

“I’ve got you beat,” Dillon announced. “I was on patrol, riding shotgun, and I look over and this kid is giving us the finger. Just multiple times.” Dillon demonstrated by pumping middle fingers in the air. “He didn’t see where he was going and walked right into a pole.”

The entire table broke into hysterics. Our food arrived, and we quieted down to share a meal. It was an enjoyable evening with no pressure or awkwardness. It was as if the four of us had been hanging out forever.

“You want to come back to our place for some drinks?” Macy asked.

Lindsey and I looked at each other.

“Come on,” Dillon said. “The night is young.”

“We could go out for drinks,” Lindsey suggested.

Macy and Dillon shared a glance. “We’d really like to get home to let the babysitter go. Plus, I have this great new wine I just discovered. It’s a red, but it’s so smooth. What do you say?”

“If it won’t be too much of an intrusion,” Lindsey hedged.

I reached over and squeezed her hand. “We don’t have to stay long.”

She squeezed back, giving me a tentative smile. “Oh, it’s not that. I just don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” Dillon declared.

“This is more excitement than we get all year round.” Macy grinned.

Dillon and I fought over who was going to pay for the meal. Just like old times, neither one of us wanted to be the freeloader. I picked up the check as soon as the waitress left it, and Dillon held out a flat palm.

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