Page 65 of The Jackpot Screwer
“Well done, Mrs. Callahan,” I said, giving her a hand a squeeze.
“Yeah, well,” she replied, giving a half-smile. “If damn Carter Maples hadn’t been your campaign manager, I reckon I’d have had it.”
I took a step back wondering what she was talking about.
“Every damn time I’ve turned around in the grocery store, the library, Delphine’s, even in the ladies’ section of Myrtle’s department store, there he was asking people to vote for you.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, he damn well did. You ever tried to buy lube with Carter looking over your shoulder asking you to ‘vote Bronte’. Even got anyone with kids to promise their kid’s vote too.” Mrs. Callahan shoved out her hand and looked down at it. “So, I guess congratulations are in order.”
We shook hands and as we did, Mayor Garrison stepped forward with my crown and sash, then loud and clear I heard a voice I knew well.
“Yes, yes. Go Lollipop.” He was jumping and fist pumping the air. “Love you, baby. Love you so fucking much.”
It was then I burst into tears and leaving the Mayor holding a purple velvet cushion, ran as fast as I could towards my man.
As the beautiful blue haired girl came bounding towards me, I braced myself. I’d done good. Yes, indeed I had.
“Oh my God,’ Bronte squealed as she launched herself into my arms. “I love you, so much.”
Wrapping her legs around my waist, she peppered my face with kisses. Something clicked inside my chest, like I’d found that missing puzzle piece, the one that had been hidden under the sofa for a couple of weeks and then suddenly appeared again.
“Lollipop, I’m so glad you came out from under the sofa.”
She paused from kissing me and stared. “What?”
“Ah fuck it, it doesn’t matter.”
My lips were on hers and nothing or nobody existed around us. It was just me and my Lollipop reconnecting, showing everyone that what we had was right and was meant to be. My hands slipped under her shirt, or should I say my shirt—I’d recognized it the minute I’d seen her, and it’d given me hope that she was most definitely thawing toward me. So, thanking every God there was, I held her close. I wasn’t letting her go ever again, no matter what those crazy hormones did.
Pushing her body to mine, Bronte’s legs and arms wound tighter and my dick jerked. It had been too long, and I was more than ready to get her screaming my name. Fuck trying to prove we were more than just sex. As for my dick, well that was most definitely more than ready to be in on the action. Both of us began to breathe heavily, hands and tongues taking what was needed.
“Um, honey, I think you need to go get your crown and sash.”
Darcy’s voice sounded between us, but I couldn’t pull away from the beautiful woman in my arms.
“Bronte,” Darcy urged. “They haven’t finished the crowning, honey.”
It was Lollipop who broke our connection, but she did so with a groan, leaning her forehead against mine.
“I need to go finish being made queen,” she whispered.
“Yeah, I guess you do.”
I slowly dropped her to the floor and gave her one last kiss to the end of her nose. “Go get your crown, sweetheart.”
With a huge smile and giggle she extracted herself from my arms and ran back to Grady and Mayor Garrison. I was proud of her and every minute I’d spent haranguing the folks of Dayton Valley to vote for her had been worth it.
“You owe me,” Hunter said into my ear. “Two hours I had to sit with Mabel Clooney. Two hours of drinking her piss weak coffee and listening to tales of her ‘wonderful Jennings’. You know that son of hers leads a damn boring life in Portland. How many grave rubbings can one man get? Not least the fact it’s a fucking weird hobby.”
Okay, so Hunter had helped get Bronte some of those votes.
“Yeah,” I breathed out. “I owe you.”
Fact was I’d give anyone anything. I had my woman back—best feeling in the damn world.
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