Page 38 of Warrant
I pasted a hurt look onto my face. “We weren’t doing anything. Just coming to see if you wanted to grab some lunch.”
Owen was always a good source of entertainment and I was bored.
“Yeah,” Demo added, “that new deli just opened up. Supposed to have bomb cheesesteaks.”
“Youdon’t get to say the word bomb,” Owen reminded him. “Not after that incident with the old ironworks plant.”
Demo scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Place was a deathtrap anyway.”
“Now it’s rubble,” Owen grumbled. “Fine. We’ll check out the new deli.”
“Meet you there,” I said, heading over to my bike and starting her up. I grinned as Owen got in his car and headed out first. There, on the back of his squad car, it now said, “Sheriff,” then underneath “Booty,” then on the other side of the tailgate, “Patrol.”
Demo and I bumped knuckles then pulled out behind him. Not close enough that the entire town couldn’t get a good look at Owen’s new title, of course. Fuck, I loved my life.
“Fucking delicious,”Demo groaned, shoving another bite of a Philly cheesesteak in his mouth.
Owen gave him a look of disgust and handed over another napkin. “Jesus, at least swallow before shoving more in.” But he was biting back a grin.
“These are fucking good,” I said, polishing mine off.
“Don’t tell Scythe about this place,” Demo ordered.
“There’s enough to go around,” Owen said with a chuckle.
Demo and I looked at each other, then at him. “You haven’t seen Scythe put food away.”
“He’s not any bigger than this asshole.” Owen jerked a thumb at Demo.
“You know those restaurants in Cheyenne? The kind that do the eating challenges?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” he replied. “Like Starries Pizza. I love that place.”
“Yeah. Scythe is working his way around all of them. He has yet to not beat a challenge.”
“Or hold the record. Including Starries,” Demo added.
“No shit,” Owen said, looking between us.
I shrugged. “Fucker can eat.”
“I saw someone try to do that challenge the last time I was in there,” Owen said. “That pizza was massive. Guy only got like a third of the way through it.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how he does it,” Demo said, looking ashamed. “I tried and ended up with five slices left.”
Owen whistled. “Even that is damn good. I wouldn’t have made it more than a few slices in.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re a pansy ass,” I told him with a grin.
He flipped me off.
“Nice car, Deputy,” Tansy, one of the waitresses, said with a giggle as she tied her apron around her waist.
Owen stiffened. “What’s wrong with my car? Kids egg it again?”
She looked over at us and saw our grins, then stifled her giggle with her hand. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and wrote a number on it. “If you find yourself searching and not finding any, you can call.” She handed a baffled Owen the paper and pranced away.
Demo let out a howl of laughter.
