Page 2 of Heat Wave
“No!” She pulls away from me, catching me by total surprise. “You’re not going to pound me, hot cop!”
She tries to run, but I wrap my arm around her and lift her so her feet no longer touch the ground. Did she just call me…hot cop?
“You’re not putting me in the things. The, um, clinky things. No! You don’t tell me what to do, Way.”
Way?
All sorts of new things are falling out of this little thing tonight. It’s kind of amazing how alcohol can be a truth serum to some. I would love to keep learning more about Oakley, but I think it’s high time we should be leaving.
“Alright, Oakley. Up we go!” I catch her mid-stomach and put her over my shoulder. I always knew she was small, but it’sdriven home just how small she is in comparison to me when I have her like this.
“Waylon. Is that you?”
And finally, an appearance from fucking Landry himself. Just the man I would be hoping to see if I didn’t have a drunk Oakley thrown over my shoulder, distracting me with that sweet scent I can only pray is her perfume. If it’s not…I’m in a lot of trouble.
Chapter Two
Waylon
“Landry!” Oakley calls out to the man standing in front of his bar, and something inside of me flares to life that leaves me shaken. What the absolute hell? Why the hell would I care about little Oakley calling out to Landry Peterson?
“Landry, tell him to put me down.”
Her hands land on my ass, of all places, when she props herself up to look around my body at him.
“Uh, Waylon, maybe you should…”
“Maybe you should think long and hard about what you’re going to say next, Landry.”
I narrow my eyes and wait. I have no problem putting Landry in his place since it is his fault Oakley is so fucked up right now.
“I just think maybe you ought to set her down if she doesn’t want to go with you.”
I applaud Landry for taking care of his customers and not letting Oakley go off with just anyone.
“Landry, either I take her home with me, or I take you to jail for the night and charge you with serving alcohol to underage girls. You can’t tell me you didn’t know Oakley isn’t twenty-one. Hell, she isn’t even twenty.”
“Well now, damn, Waylon. Just damn. What the hell am I supposed to do? She clearly doesn’t want to go with you. And I didn’t know the girl was under twenty-one. I can’t keep up with all the girls in town.”
“Landry, stop him!”
I reach up and smack her on the ass. She lets out a squeal and stiffens in my arms.
“Waylon Abernathy, did you just…?!”
“Um, Waylon,” Hell, even my sister is giving me shit, and why does hearing Oakley say my whole name kind of turn me on?
“Look, you called me for help. Now let me handle it.”
“But you smacked her ass.”
I narrow my eyes at my sister and Landry, but it’s not them I have to worry about. Oakley starts yelling at the top of her lungs.
“Help! Police brutality!”
She can fucking remember police brutality but not the fucking word for jail, which is slammer by the way!
“Help! Someone stop him! Someone…”
