Page 24 of Her Filthy Grump
Rich isn’t a big drinker, but we hung out several times–before Tabitha. The fact he hasn’t beat the shit out of me is surprising.
If someone bet Layla’s virginity on a dare, I’d kick their ass. My heart pangs against my chest. Not Layla’s–anyone’s.
“The station’s great. We work twenty-four-hour shifts. We’ve only had two fire calls this week. A couple of rescue calls. Last week’s highlight was a duck round-up.” I chuckle quietly as I envision Layla directing traffic with her hair blowing in the wind.
“A duck round-up? Dude, what in the hell?” He makes a scraping sound. I recognize the sound of the chair legs in the kitchen of the station. Rich must be on call tonight. The bottle opening must have been a soda. None of us were irresponsible enough to drink on the job.
No wonder he called. Waiting for a call is excruciatingly dull if you don’t find a way to pass the time.
I walk to the back of my pickup, let down the tailgate, and sit on the end. “Apparently, a resident duck lays her eggs in the park every year, and the citizens play crowd control to keep them safe.”
Rich laughs. “That’s a riot. I can’t wait to tell the guys you’ve given up the city life to lasso ducks.”
“Nice,” I groan as I envision the future shit the guys are going to give me.
“How’re the women?”
“I’m not here to get laid.” The crunch of tires comes from the right as someone drives into the lot.
If I were, I’d be inside with Layla draped all over me on the dance floor. As I imagine her in another man’s arms, the tension between my shoulder blades feels like a letter opener has been shoved into the muscles.
“What exactly are you there for? I told you I don’t hold you responsible for Tabitha’s actions.”
“I was dating her.” A car door slams shut, and giggling voices fill the air.
“We’ve all done stupid shit. Stop beating yourself up. You walked the second you found out.” The sincerity in his voice rings as true today as it did months ago when he first said it. I should be relieved, but it only makes me feel like a bigger prick.
They’re too forgiving. I couldn’t be that good of a person. I sure the hell am not forgiving Tabitha and Jim Ferguson for what they did. Not that either of them would ever think to ask.
“Thanks, Rich. I appreciate the support from you and Chloe. I do. You two have been terrific, but I needed to get away for a while.” Until people forget I ever dated Tabitha.
“Permanently?”
I sigh, “I don’t know. My cousin will be back in the winter, so I’ll have to move on. Where I go afterward is hard to say.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
As I get ready to click the ‘off’ button, Rich yells, “Shit!”
“What?”
“I forgot the reason I called. How far is San Francisco from Meadow Bay?”
I wrinkle my nose and squint. “I don’t know. Maybe a little under two hours.”
“The team’s playing there in two weeks. Chloe and I are going to watch Tony play. We’d love to catch up with you.”
Tony Timmerman is Rich’s best friend, and he plays football for our hometown team. They’re well on their way to an undefeated season. “I’ll think about it.”
“It would be fun. Bring one of those hot, tan, long-legged blondes to the VIP suite. She’ll love it.” It would be fun to get together with the guys, but the ideal stereotypical California woman does nothing for me.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
The only part of the description that fits Layla is hot, and I’m trying desperately to keep her in the too sweet to touch category.
Taking her to the city. Spending hours with her in a vehicle. Then, spending all day with her drinking beer and cheering on my team would annihilate the box I’m putting her into–for her own safekeeping.