Page 2 of Shortcake
But this guy? Mr. Dark Hair, nose in his phone… he looked different. Women surrounded him. Scantily clad, Halloween decked out hotties were circling him like sharks. And he was the chum in the water. But he’d barely lifted his gaze to any of them.
Not the hot blonde dressed as a Playboy Bunny. Not the brunette angel whose wings kept knocking into his shoulder. Not even the Megan Fox lookalike who was eye fucking him from across the room.
I brushed a handful of red waves off my forehead and crossed the bar, weaving through the sea of people until I stood beside him.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said. “I’m afraid I’m going to need to see some ID.”
It took a moment before he blinked, looking up at me. “Excuse me?”
“I’m going to have to write you a ticket.”
He studied me for a quiet moment with a long scan of my body until his eyes landed on my fake badge. Finally, a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and he set his phone down. “What are the charges being brought against me, Officer …Cavitysearch, is it?”
“That’s right,” I flicked the plastic edge with my navy blue painted fingernail. A bit of the sharpie had smudged off in the few hours since I had scribbled the name while tipsy in my motel room. “Anita. Officer Anita Cavitysearch. As for the charges, are you aware that it’s Halloween?”
His eyes flashed. “Of course. That’s why I’m here… for the boos.”
I winced. “Wow. That was… wow.”
Despite the terrible joke, when his eyes cut to mine, a thrill passed down my body.
“Really?” he challenged. “Worse thanOfficer Anita Cavitysearch?”
I cleared my throat and plucked a piece of lint off his flannel shirt. “I’m afraid to tell you, that it’s illegal in these parts to be out on Halloween without a costume.”
“Who says I’m without a costume?”
“Look, I’m from New England… and in my part of the country, flannel shirts are a uniform. Not a costume.”
“Ah,” he said. “But I’m not from New England. I’m from right here in the city. So for me, it’s a costume.”
“Really? Your costume for this Halloween is aNew Englander?”
He held up a finger before reaching down and grabbing a roll of paper towels from the floor near his feet. Then, he hoisted the roll over his shoulder. “Actually, I’m the Brawny man.”
A laugh snuck out of me and I shook my head. “Your fine just doubled.”
“What? Why?”
“Lazy costumes are worse than no costumes.”
“Says who?”
I rolled my eyes. “Everyone.”
“One might say that a sexy cop is a lazy costume, you know.”
I scoffed, jaw dropped, and pressed my palm to my overabundant cleavage popping out of the low-cut cropped top. “You call this lazy? This,” I said, gesturing up and down at my body, “is anything but lazy! Have you ever walked a few blocks in four-inch patent leather boots? Or contoured your face? Or teased your hair?”
His dark blue eyes swirled with heat, like a hot tub at night and he shook his head, slowly. “Can’t say I have.”
“Okay, then.” I looked around, searching to see if he had any friends here. It was pretty damn weird for a grown man to be sitting in a bar on Halloween, in a half-assed costumealone. “So… who are you here with?”
One side of his top lip curled with what some might call a smile. “A couple of my friends forced me to come out tonight after work.”
Again, I looked around, not seeing anyone who remotely looked like they knew this man, let alone had come with him. I pinched my fingers into air quotes and asked, “Are these ‘friends’ of the imaginary kind?”
With a kick of his feet off the back of the bar, he twirled the stool around and pointed through the crowd at a man dressed as a fireman. He was making out with the Megan Fox lookalike, pressing her against the wood paneled wall of the dive bar. “That’s Jim.”
