Page 52 of The Backup Groom
Curious, I followed her gaze.
It was the woman who had come into my coffee shop a couple of times. She had gotten out of her car that was parked behind mine. There was clearly something going on between the two of them and it wasn’t pleasantries.
Amber stepped closer and latched hold of my hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” I said.
“Please don’t ask questions and do exactly what I tell you. Get your stuff and walk away, toward those trees over there and completely out of sight. When you get a chance, sneak over to your car, and don’t talk to that woman if she’s still around or follows you.” Amber lifted her chin toward the woman storming her way.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I asked, glancing back toward the street.
The woman was speed walking toward us.
“Absolutely,” Amber said. “I can handle her—she’s my cousin. I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, including my Ryan Scott saga, but you need to go. Scoot, Scotty, Scoot!” She smacked me on the butt with her tennis racket, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to excite.
I arched an eyebrow. “Only if you do that again.”
“Scotty!” she said, urgency and amusement in her voice as she smacked me on the butt again, this time twice. “Go! Please.”
“Double the pleasure, double the fun!” I grabbed my bag and water bottle, and headed toward the gate on the other side of the tennis court.
I lost the match, but at least I was going to find out what the deal was with all the Ryan Scotts. I wouldn’t argue with Amber.
“Wait!” Amber’s cousin called out. “You need to know something! It’s about Amber!”
I picked up the pace, then reached for the gate to push it open.
“Oh no,” I mumbled, pushing on it again.
The gate was chained shut.
I grasped the chainlink and jerked the gate back and forth with as much force as I could several times. It looked like there was enough slack to allow me to squeeze through the opening. I jammed my racket bag through the space, then ducked my head under the chain, holding on to it as I slipped my body through.
“Easy-peasy,” I said, halfway through.
Unfortunately, I spoke too soon.
My tennis shorts snagged on the chainlink, ripping the front left leg portion off to expose myTranformersboxer shorts. Luckily, no certain manly body parts were injured during the process.
After squeezing the rest of my body through the opening, I grabbed my bag, and ran toward the trees, keeping one hand on the front of my shorts to keep them from opening, just in case I encountered somebody on the path. I wondered briefly if that was the brightest idea since I must have looked like I was a little boy who had to pee.
When I got far enough away, I leaned against the first big tree, trying to catch my breath.
A few minutes later, I peeked out to see if Amber was still talking to her cousin.
That was when I was blinded with a bright light to the eyes.
“Freeze, pervert perpetrator!” the cop said, in an oddly squeaky voice.
“I’m not a—”
“Come out and keep your hands where I can see them. No funny business.”
As I held my hands up, the breeze began flapping the fabric of my shorts back and forth.
The cop clicked off his flashlight, and eyed me up and down, stopping on the front of my shorts. “Transformers? Really?”
I relaxed when I saw that this guy wasn’t on the police force at all, but instead was just some overzealous volunteer community cop. He was a beefy guy who wore a tight black T-Shirt withVolunteeracross his chest. A man like that would normally have had a commanding presence, if it weren’t for his high-pitched Mickey Mouse voice.
