Page 37 of A Wild Card Kiss
“Fine. I’ll be cute,” I say, faking indignation.
Katie gives me aso therelook. “Yes. You’re cute. But…” She studies me seriously, tapping her chin. “I’m thinking you could be a fireman.”
Interesting choice. “Does someone have a thing for firemen?”
“Who doesn’t?” Katie asks.
Daisy points two thumbs at her ample bosom. “I’d love a man to rescue me.” She spins on her silver shoes, and props to her for pulling off those heels at work. “And, handsome, now you have no choice but to be a fireman. I hope you have a good hose.”
Katie’s lips part into anOas she catches my gaze. “I hope you do too.”
I crack up, loving that she’s ventured so far into the flirty zone. My good-time superhero would do this for a damsel in distress—make her laugh. Help her flirt.
“I’ll take a fireman helmet,” I tell the shop owner.
“And what about turnouts and suspenders? I hope you’re going to take that polo off and run around shirtless for the rest of the night,” Daisy suggests.
Mischief sparks in Katie’s eyes. “You have to do what Daisy says.”
Five minutes later, my jeans and shirt are tucked in a plastic bag, and I’m decked out like a fireman about to do a striptease. I emergefrom the dressing room, shirtless, as if I’m ready to work the pole, and I don’t mean the kind you’d find in a firehouse.
I spin in a circle for Katie, and she wolf whistles. “You look fabulous, Harlan. This is celebrating being left at the altar in style.”
Daisy’s eyes widen, and she sets a hand on Katie’s arm. “You were, sweetheart?”
“I was,” Katie says, even and cool, then points to me, nibbling on the corner of her lips. “But he found me at the bowling alley bar. And now here I am, playing dress-up.”
Daisy smiles, shaking her head, then beckons for Katie to come closer. “Girl, you know the best way to get over a man?” the drag queen asks.
“Tell me,” Katie says, her tone dripping with interest.
Daisy points at me, circles her finger in my direction. “Get under another one. Like this handsome piece over here.”
Chapter 13
Katie
What’s the protocol for jilted brides on what to do or say on their should-have-been wedding night?
Someone should write that manners guidebook.
Is it okay for me to feel a little flirty, a little dirty when my heart’s been so recently stomped on?
Daisy certainly seems to think so, and who am I to argue with her?
Heck, if I were developing a yoga class for this situation, I’d call it How to Shavasana When You’ve Been Dumped on Your Asana.
And pose number one would be…on your back.
Just like Daisy suggested.
With her confidence and tell-it-like-it-is-ness, she seems to be exactly the type of woman you’d bank on.
Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever received better advice.
As soon as she voices those wicked words, I’m positive that’s exactly what I need. A hot, toe-curling, no-strings-attached roll in the hay.
A good, old-fashioned screw can reset me to human again.
