Page 31 of Five Alarm Kiss

“As long as he brings his gun.”

“Done. How ’bout Friday night? I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’m not giving you my address, but nice try.”

“Shit. Guess I won’t need my duct tape and ski mask, then.”

She was smiling so much, her cheeks hurt. “Guess not.”

“Let me talk to Gage, and I’ll call you back. Anything you hate eating?”

“Sushi.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t do raw fish.”

“I knew you were perfect for me.”

She wasn’t expecting the giddiness that statement conjured.

“Talk to you soon, Princess.”

Chapter Nine

“I can’t wear that!” Laurel said, staring at the red dress her friend was holding up.

“Why not?” Britt asked. “You wouldn’t wear it to Hannah’s, so now’s your chance.”

“Hannah’s is a meat market,” Laurel countered, as if that explained everything.

“So?”

“So, this…” she touched the delicate silk fabric, “is high-class cocktail hour. Cocktail hour and meat markets don’t mix.”

“Well, since you’re not going to Hannah’s, that means you can wear it tonight,” Britt rationalized.

“Why do you keep pushing this dress on me? Is it hexed or something? I wear it and suddenly sign over my paychecks to you?”

“Yes. That’s exactly it. Hurry up and put it on before my car payment is due,” Britt deadpanned. “Because Jake’ll shit grits when he sees you wearing it, that’s why.”

“I don’t want Jake to do anything with grits.”

“Sugar, don’t say that until you’ve tried it.” Britt waggled her eyebrows.

“Eww. That’s it. I’m never eating grits at your house again.”

Britt snickered.

Laurel had asked Britt to come over to help her pick out something to wear for her date, but now she was regretting it. Thankfully, Skye had a late client and couldn’t be here, otherwise, they’d both be ganging up on her.

“Jake will never see me in it,” Laurel vowed.

“I’m sure he’d rather see yououtof—oh, shit!”

“What?” Laurel vaulted off the bed in a panic. Spinning around, she expected to find a huge bug or snake or something horrible enough to elicit a shriek like from Britt.“What?”

Britt leveled a what-is-wrong-with-you look on her before declaring, “We should’ve done number nine.”

Laurel pressed a hand to her chest where her heart was pounding against it. “Number nine?”Nine, nine, nine…?“Wait, on the list?”

Britt nodded.

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