Page 124 of In Spades

Speak of the devil.

Maddie strutted through the shabby screen door that served as the main entrance to Jokers. She had on a pair of cutoffs and a ripped-up black tank top that read All You Gotta Do Is Put A Drink In My Hand. It was November and forty-two degrees outside.

The girl gave no fucks.

“Eric Church lyrics, but you were close,” I said to Hannah.

“Is Will coming to the staff party?”

Oh shit. I hadn’t even thought to mention it. I’d never had a date for the end-of-year party before. “I’ll have to ask.”

“Come hell or high water, Isaac will be there,” Hannah said staunchly. “I swear, that man doesn’t know how to delegate.” She turned to Bridget and rambled on about Isaac’s travel schedule.

Maddie wiggled onto the barstool beside me. “There’s my sweet little peach! How’s my baby unicorn?”

I laughed. “You sure you’re not confusing Zoey and me?”

Maddie tossed her nearly white hair to the side and smirked. “You’re the most adorable thing. It’s no wonder Will is all over this,” she said, twirling her finger in my direction.

I looked down at my jeans and well-worn cowboy boots. I wore a flannel shirt over my tank top, but now it was tied around my waist. My gray tank had a slight tear that split the neckline between my breasts. I felt frisky when I was getting ready and decided to wear a push-up bra. My tits looked fantastic tonight. It was solid girls’ night attire.

At least, Will seemed to think so. I wasn’t blind to the way he checked me out when he picked me up from my house.

Maybe I could sweet-talk him into a quickie behind the bar before we went home.

The bell above the door rang again, and Steve and Erica barreled in, all bundled up. A gust of chilly air chased them inside, sending a shiver up my spine.

Steve took one look at Maddie and shook his head. “Put some damn clothes on before you get fuckin’ pneumonia.”

Maddie giggled. “Well, hello to you too, Detective Grumpy Pants!”

Steve narrowed his eyes and stroked his beard. “You pre-gamed, didn’t you?”

“Possibly,” Maddie said, smirking. “What’s it to you?”

“DeRossi’s outta town. Did you drive?”

She rolled her eyes. “I took an Uber, thank you very much. And before you get your crotchety boxers in a twist, Chase is taking me home.”

Erica patted Steve’s shoulder and told him to sit down before his blood pressure skyrocketed. A little late for that in my opinion. She pulled an elastic off her wrist and finger combed her big curls into a bun on top of her head.

“How’s it going?” She surveyed the room, confused. “Where’s Mel?”

“Sorry! I’m here!” Mel said as she ran in. The screeching door slammed behind her. “God, I’m so tired. I was twenty minutes from clocking out, and things had been quie?—”

Steve cut her off. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare say the Q-word.”

I craned my head around and caught a glimpse of Steve’s badge clipped to his belt. “Are you on call?”

He nodded, begrudgingly sipping the sweet tea Bridget gave him.

Steve, Melissa, and Chase were superstitious about saying the word q-u-i-e-t or s-l-o-w. According to them, all hell would break loose the minute someone let it slip.

“Like I was saying,” Mel continued. “I expected to get off work without a whole lot of fuss, but there was a big structure fire off of Bridge Street in Morehead. Multiple vics with burns and external injuries. A few of our guys got banged up, too.”

Steve frowned. “Everyone good?”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, nothing too serious, thank goodness. They should all be discharged within a few hours. It made triage a pain in the ass, though, with them all coming in at once. And firefighters are awful patients.”

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