Page 42 of The Better Bride

“What did you do—call the police station?” I laugh.

“Yeah, actually I did,” Becky says. “I wanted to make sure for myself.”

Percy, Sammi, and I exchange looks before turning back to Becky.

“God love you, girl,” I say as I throw an arm around Becky and hug her to me. “Did you ask them if they had an Office Mike Oxlong?”

Becky lowers her head and says, “Yes, yes I did—” our laughter stops her for a second “—and yes, they laughed just as hard. But the important thing is that I figured out where it is from.”

Becky triumphantly holds up the badge and does a little victory dance. There are tons of things I love about my best friend and her ability to endure our teasing in stride is definitely up there.

Luckily, she gives as good as she gets.

“Okay, you got our attention,” Percy says. “Where is it from?”

“The Post Office!” Becky says.

“Of course it is!” Sammi says.

Really, that should have been our first guess. Becky’s husband owns a male strip club called the Post Office. The fact that we found a police badge with a questionable name on it should have immediately made us think of the Post Office.

Hell, it might as well have had blinking neon lights coming out of it.

“Laugh at me all you want, but it was the cop’s laughter that made it click for me,” Becky says. “The guys have so much fun thinking up names just like this. They’ll sit there throwing out names and cracking themselves up.”

“I still can’t believe you actually called,” Percy says. “You need some food in you, apparently.”

“No, I need some Liam in me.”

“When are you not horny for your husband, Becky?” I laugh.

“True, but what I meant was that Liam’s expecting us,” Becky says, linking arms with Sammi and me, and Percy falling in beside me. “I called him once I realized it was one of their badges. He confirmed we were there last night.”

I stop walking. “What did we do?”

“He didn’t say, but it was us so I’m guessing we didn’t sip water and knit a scarf all night, you know?”

Of course, we were. Just thinking about that place gets my cunt humming to life. It’s like it has its own version of sense memory.

Something happened there, I can feel it. I start walking again toward the club, my cunt leading the way.

After just a few blocks, we arrive at the Post Office. Piling into the place, I can’t help but notice that even before noon, the club is already lit to moody perfection, with bass-heavy music playing.

A sound my pussy knows all too well.

So well, in fact, that it’s starting to pulse along with the music.

“Bruce!” Sammi says as she heads straight for the bar.

The guys gyrating on stage are a treat for most, but for me, I can’t get enough of the sexy bartender or the drinks he mixes.

Not today, though.

The mere thought of more alcohol has me feeling a little dizzy still.

“Girls!” Bruce greets us in return. “Good to see you again.”

“Wow, I don’t like the sound of that,” Sammi says as she takes a seat at the bar. “Did we make fools of ourselves last night?”