Page 42 of Mistletoe Masquerade
“No more man-dy cane for you, then,” he teases back with a smug grin.
My jaw hits the floor. “How did you know?” I’m certain I never told him about our little term of endearment for him.
“Overheard you on the phone.” He brings his lips close to my ear and murmurs, “Don’t worry. I would never deny you your sweet tooth. This candy shop is always open for you.” He accentuates his point with a snap of his teeth, sending me into a fit of giggles.
At the same time, Tommy and Dani, along with her mom and gran, walk through the doors. I give them all big hugs and introduce them to Dean. During the process, Sante and Amelie join the party. Dean shakes hands with Sante. Tommy gives him a lift of the chin. So far, so good.
Once we’re shown to our table, Dean and I sit across from Sante and Amelie while Tommy and Dani sit across from her family. We don’t even have time to pick up our menus when a loud bang ricochets through the restaurant. Us girls flinch while all the guys look ready for war. The instinctive reflexes relax when we realize the noise was a car backfiring, though Gran must not have gottenthe memo.
“It wasn’t me,” Gran quickly announces. “I made sure not to bring my gun this time.”
Dean mutters beside me, “I did not just hear that.”
Dani shushes her grandmother. “Dean is a cop, Gran. You can’t go saying stuff like that.”
“It was a joke, right?” Dean asks, eyes cutting from Amelie to Sante. “She doesn’t really carry.”
“She’s not afraid to use it, either,” Sante confirms with a chuckle.
Tommy just shakes his head in exasperation.
Dean leans back in his chair with a sigh. “I knew I might hear shit if I was around you guys more. Didn’t expect it to be about grannies gone wild.”
The guys both laugh, cutting away any residual tension from the room.
“You must see all kinds of crazy shit working on the force,” Sante notes.
“Let’s just say I won’t have any trouble coming up with topics if I ever decide to write a memoir.”
“Come on, you gotta give us more than that,” Sante pushes. “What’s something off-the-wall nuts you’ve had to deal with?”
Dean narrows his eyes as though thinking back. “Last night, some drunk asshole froze his dick to a metal streetlight.”
The entire table erupts in groans and laughter.
Dean chuckles. “Yup. He tried to take a leak and got tired. Thought he’d rest for a minute with his head on hisarm against the pole, too drunk to realize he’d let his dick touch the pole, too. I had to pour water from a Solo cup on the damn thing to get it unstuck.”
More groans.
“You still gotta do that shit even now that you’re a detective?” Tommy asks.
“Everyone works New Year’s Eve.Everyone.”
The guys grimace, then launch into a story about some guy they know who caught his own hair on fire with New Year’s fireworks. From there, the conversation flows with ease throughout the rest of brunch. As soon as the plates are cleared, Dean sets his napkin on the table and scoots his chair out.
“I hope you all don’t mind if we go ahead and cut out. I’m pretty damn tired.”
“Hell, I’m tired for you,” Sante says before standing and extending his hand for Dean to shake. The rest of the group shares the sentiment, initiating a round of goodbyes before we slip away.
“I can go back to my place and let you sleep,” I offer once we’re out on the sidewalk.
Dean drapes his arm around my shoulders, and we start walking. “No way. You’re coming to my place. If I need to nap, I can do it with you there. Besides, I have something for you.”
“Yeah?” If I smile any bigger, my cheeks will crack.
“Yup. Been waitin’ all night to give it to you.” He’s not lying. His pace is lively despite his exhaustion. His excitementhas me racking my brain over what the gift could be. I adore a good surprise.
When we get back to his place, there’s a shoelace on the entry floor. It’s strange because Dean is relatively tidy. He doesn’t even leave his shoes in the entry, let alone a single lace. I pick it up just as a flash of white shoots across the living room floor.
