by Kat Addams
They sat on the hill in complete silence, their hands intertwined as they took in the scene around them. The same spot they had met, the same spot they had married.
“Look around, darlin’. What do you see?” Chris said, turning toward Klara with a smile.
“Hmm … well … I see the sun setting over the river, the lights on the bridge starting to flicker on, the waves crashing into the shore, the tourists milling about. I see … wait … is she …” Klara nodded toward a woman casually bending over to tie her shoe as she nervously looked up and around.
The woman stood right in line of a man barreling toward her, not paying attention to where he was going. His eyes instead on the sunset.
“Oh my gosh! It’s you! Let’s save her!” he said, hopping up.
“Wait! We shouldn’t! Maybe that’s her soul mate running toward her. Can’t we just let fate happen?” she pleaded.
“It’s not fate if we’re here, watching a story we already know unfold! Now, come on,” he replied, pulling her up.
“But we aren’t exactly hot stuff for her to fall in love with! We’re not a cute single man! It’s different!”
“Maybe she is into threesomes?” Chris teased.
Klara elbowed him hard.
“Let me take this one over. Show you how it’s done.” She cracked her knuckles and bent her neck left and right as if to ready herself.
“All right, my little badass. You’d better hurry though. Someone’s about to get hurt!”
She raced down the hill just in time to catch the runner, startling him as she touched his shoulder, making him stop. The woman stood feet before them, looking up, clearly frustrated with Klara.
Klara put her hands on her hips as the runner took his headphones out of his ears.
“You could have killed her! What are you doing out here, running full speed like that and not paying attention? You didn’t see this woman in front of you, innocently tying her shoe? If I wasn’t here, you would have stumbled right over and broken her gorgeous face! Look at her! I think you owe her an apology. She looks terrified,” Klara dramatically spouted off.
The man looked terrified more than the woman, but that was what Klara wanted.
“I’m so sorry! I guess I wasn’t—” the man started.
“You’re damn right you weren’t! You need to tell this lady you’re sorry,” she continued, turning toward the lady. “What’s your name, miss?”
“Jenny,” the woman answered, frightened. Is this one of those crazy Memphians people talk about? “I’m fine. Really, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay, Jenny! He could have killed you!” she said, turning back toward the runner. “I hope you can make it up to this poor, frightened woman in some way!” Klara muttered, turning around to leave and talking to herself like a maniac.
She could hear the couple nervously laughing behind her as she left the scene and walked back up to Chris, who stood in disbelief.
She gave him a high five, and they both sat back down in silence, watching the young couple now in conversation.
“Wow, that was much better than what I had done to you! You deserve a standing ovation for that one!” Chris laughed, putting his arm around Klara.
“Just setting them on the path toward limerence, is all. I’ve got a lot of experience in that area, ya see.” She shrugged.
“Come here, you! I’ll show you some limerence.” Chris laughed as he pulled her toward him and into his arms.
“All the limerence I can handle?” she said, making her eyebrows dance on her forehead. She never quite got the hang of flirting.
“It’s all yours, Mrs. Kaiser. All yours,” he whispered in her ear, instantly making her melt. Again.
Book 2 in the Dirty South series, Nashvegas Nights, is available here!
Check out the first chapter at the end of this book!
Playlist
Curious as to what Klara was listening to on her morning runs? Check out these songs from the Grit and Grind playlist. If you'd like to listen to the whole playlist on Spotify, please click here.
“Crash Into Me” | Dave Matthews Band
“Stuttering (Kiss Me Again)” | Ben’s Brother
“Memphis Sun” | Rival Sons
“Who’s Your Farmer” | Chris Janson
“Stubborn Love” | The Lumineers
“All Shook Up” | Avila
“Big Jet Plane” | Angus & Julia Stone
“Oceans Away” | ARIZONA
“The Reason” | Hoobastank
Acknowledgments
Writing has been a lifelong dream of mine, and I couldn’t do it without the help of a good support system.
First and foremost, I want to thank my daughter. Without her, I wouldn’t have the motivation to follow my dreams and show her that we can do anything if we believe in ourselves. My family has always backed me one hundred percent, and for that, I am incredibly grateful. A big thank-you to my dad for supporting me through my misadventures and loving me anyway. Even if he’ll never know my true pen name because I’m an angel, and I totally don’t write dirty stories!
I’d also like to thank the amazing sisterhood of support I’ve come to know in this indie author world. My awesome editor, Jovana Shirley, who held my hand several times when I had minor—or not-so-minor—freak-outs. My amazing cover designer, Lori Jackson, who not only is one of the most talented designers out there, but she also helped me above and beyond in introducing me to even more wonderful women in writing. Kelley Jefferson at Wonder PR, who offered me a wealth of information and guidance in every step of the way. And, to all of the hardworking authors that I’ve met who are also navigating this crazy writing world we so love, I am so grateful for you. I appreciate you. You’re all rock stars. Let’s do this.
To the Grind City—You stole my heart! I am beyond thrilled to be a part of such an amazing place and its amazing people. Memphis has some of the best and most relatable citizens. I see the work you all are doing to make Memphis better and better every day. Memphis, you rock! Grit and grind, baby! Grit and grind!
Last, but not least, I want to thank my friends who have been in my corner, cheering me on. The ones who have given me gold stars and more support, kindness, and inspiration than I ever thought possible. On days when I felt like climbing into a bed-fort instead of finishing this novel, my friends were always there to sing in my ear and encourage me to keep going. So, thank you. Five hundred and seven times over, thank you.
About the Author
Kat Addams is a forever twenty-nine-year-old fashionista following her lifelong dream of writing contemporary romance inspired by the exotic men she meets in her worldly travels. At least, that’s what she would like for you to think. She’s certainly not a stay-at-home mom indulging in excessive daydreaming, frozen pizzas, an unhealthy addiction to purchasing pajamas, and one too many cocktails on the regular. That’s some other romance author. The poor thing probably has to sneak away upstairs to write her dirty stories! What would her family think? Thankfully, that’s not Kat!
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Other Books by Kat Addams
AVAILABLE NOW!
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p; Nashvegas Nights (Dirty South Series, Book 2)
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Hotty Toddy (A Dirty South Series Novella)
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COMING SOON!
Can’t get enough of Ms. May?
Join her on her online dating adventures in Mayday: Tinder Love in the Golden Years, a Dirty South novella.
Available on Amazon on April 1, 2020. Preorder here.
A new series by Kat Addams!
DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female), available May 5, 2020.
Preorder the first book in the series, On the Rox, here.
Book 2 in the Dirty South series, Nashvegas Nights, is available here!
Check out the first chapter now!
1
Liz
Prudence. Dorothy Elizabeth Prudence. That had been my name since birth. I might as well have a tattoo on my forehead, branding me as unfuckable. Not that I was actually unfuckable. Because, ya know, I wasn’t. Not really anyway. I just hadn’t been … shall we say … properly handled … in the history of ever. I’d had lovers, but they were all just okay. They had been a little too vanilla and a little too dry—if you catch my drift. Just ho-hum in the sack. And I was so over ho-hum. Life was too short for ho-hum sex. It was a waste of my time, which I didn’t have a lot of anymore. My job as a nurse in the ER left me exhilarated, breathless, challenged, and dead tired—which was exactly what I needed in my bed right about now.
“Come on, Liz! We’re going to be late! The band starts at ten!” Jessica paced back and forth in front of my bathroom door.
She was always on time. I was not.
It wasn’t that I was high maintenance or that I took forever to get ready, but it was my extreme indecisiveness that often led me down the path of: Oh shit, I’m late again! Which jeans make me have a bubble butt? Do I want a bubble butt tonight? Or do I need a man who is okay with my not-quite bubble butt, not-quite pancake boohiney? Maybe a mix between an apple and a peach? An overripe and slightly squishy one? Am I looking for serious conversations, or am I looking for a good lay? Those were the important questions. I had to know these things before I left for a night out on the town, and so often, I just couldn’t make up my mind.
But tonight was different. I knew what I wanted. I just had to find the perfect outfit to get me there.
Cleavage? Check.
Legs? Check.
But not too much legs? Check.
If I was showing the top, I couldn’t be showing the bottom, and vice versa. A girl had to have some class, you know.
Strappy heels that he can imagine slowly taking off like some romantic Cinderella scene? No.
That was not what I wanted. Tonight, I needed to get ridden hard and hung out wet to dry.
Come-fuck-me heels. That was what I needed to wear.
Except I would also be drinking and likely break my neck in heels like that.
Hmm. Blood-red heels for a pop of color against the little black dress?
“Jess! Does this look okay? What do you think about the heels? Too much?”
“Oh my gosh, lady! You always look great in whatever you wear! You can wear a paper bag, and you’ll get fucked tonight.” Jess rolled her eyes.
“So, that’s a yes on the heels?” I tapped my foot.
“Yes! Of course! Now, let’s go. Luke will be here in a second,” she said as she stared down into her phone.
Jess was so incredibly lucky. Her husband was the sweetest man. He always offered to be the chauffeur on girls’ night. Although playing chauffeur wasn’t much of a stretch, considering that they lived in the same neighborhood as me. But still, he was a sweetheart and always looked out for us. I’d watched him hold Jess’s hair back one girls’ night while she nearly died on the side of the road from one too many tequila shots. I remembered thinking at that time, even drunk, that was what real love looked like—and also that we would never drink tequila again.
“Okay, let’s go! I’m ready,” I said, dousing myself in the sultriest perfume I owned.
I offered it up to Jess. She waved it away.
She didn’t need to get laid—not with her perfect husband and all. She was actually going out because she liked listening to the bands. Me? I couldn’t care less about the music. I just needed some stuffin’ for this muffin or else I was going to be hangry—and hangry wasn’t a good look on me. My poor patients at the ER would feel the brunt of that.
The doorbell rang just as we gathered our things. Luke had arrived.
“You know you can just honk the horn! You don’t have to come to the door like a gentleman,” I said to him as we hustled out the door and into the car.
“Now, what kind of manners would that be? Honkin’ my horn and waking the whole neighborhood? Besides, I like treating ladies like they’re supposed to be treated. Gets me in the good graces of this hot piece of ass right here,” he said, reaching over to grab Jess, who laughed and gave him a big smooch on the lips.
“All right, you two. Eyes on the road,” I said as we pulled out of the driveway. “Besides, doesn’t the newlywed stage end after, oh … um … one or two months? You two still can’t keep your hands off each other, and it’s been, what, four years?”
“Almost five years. And I just can’t help it. I mean, look at him!” Jess eye-fucked her husband, who looked back at her and wiggled his brows. “Liz is just getting hangry, Luke. If ya know what I mean. She’s on the prowl tonight.”
“Is that so? I wondered what you were up to in those red heels.”
“So, the red heels are a yes then? They look okay? From a man’s perspective? Your wife wasn’t much help!” I started to second-guess my choice of attire.
“I’d say they definitely put you on the market for getting your hangry face stuffed, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“She needs it all stuffed. She’s been sooo bitchy lately. Face, muffin, maybe even buns? No, Liz doesn’t do that on the first date. I know. Definitely not the buns. Yet,” Jess teased.
Normally, I would be mortified to talk butt sex, but Jess and I shamelessly talked about everything—and I did mean everything. Some days, we had all the maturity of twelve-year-old boys, making fart jokes, and other days, we held each other as we navigated this adulting world we had been forced into. We were peaches and cream, peanut butter and jelly, Liz and Jess. We were Jess plus Liz, better known as Team Jizz.
“Speaking of buns, I hope you’re careful. No buns in the oven, no grease in the pan,” Luke said, flinching.
“Grease in the pan? Ew, gross. What does that even mean?” Jess said, fake gagging in disgust.
“Don’t know. Just made it up. Like it?” Luke laughed. He was proud of himself for trying to be a part of Team Jizz … and succeeding.
“That’s brilliant!” I snorted. “I’m a smart cookie. I’m not looking to bake buns or … have a cheesy taco.”
“Fuck, that’s nasty!” He cringed. “I never knew women could be like y’all until I met you two. You two are something else. Phew, boy. Cheers to Jizz!”
“Cheers to Jizz!” we echoed our mantra as we hopped out of the car and onto Broadway.
“And no tequila!” he called as he blew a kiss in our direction.
“I’m not really sure how he handles us,” I said to Jess as she pulled me along to the bar where her favorite band would be playing.
“Luke? Oh, he loves it! He gets to indulge his inner child with us. We’re his medicine. Too much corporate stuffiness during the day. But me and you? We make him laugh. He could Jizz all night. Ha!”
“Oh, really? You’ll have to tell me all about that—after we get a drink,” I said as we made our way to the bar inside the dark and crowded room.
“Two negronis, please,” I told the bartender as we settled into two tiny barstools, squished in between a mix of college kids and thirty-somethings trying to be twenty-somethings—which, I shamefully admitted, would be us in a few short years.
“Aww! Thanks, bitch.
You know the way to my heart. I’ll get the next round,” Jess said, patting my knee.
“No way. Your husband is our chauffeur. My treat tonight. Anyway, I owe you.”
“For what?”
“For getting me laid tonight,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Ha-ha! You know I can definitely help with that. Let’s see … who can we seduce tonight?” she said, looking out over the crowd. “How about four o’clock? Beard, might have a man bun. I can’t tell from this angle.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you even know me?”
“All right, all right.” Jess laughed. “Seven o’clock, corner seat. Baseball cap and beer in hand.”
“Baseball hat inside usually means he’s hiding something. Probably a comb-over. Next!”
“Gosh damn, you’re picky. Okay. Hmm … you okay with a dad bod? I see a lot of those.”
“Damn it, Jess. I need to be picked up and put up against the wall. You think a dad bod can do that?”
“You’re pretty tiny, so yeah. I mean, what do you weigh? Like, a hundred pounds, soaking wet?”
“Hardly, but thanks.” I took a long sip of my drink and winced.
The bartender had been a little too heavy-handed tonight. I wasn’t sure if I was going to choke or cry after that first sip. Instead, I just bit my lip like a badass who could handle it and secretly apologized to my liver.
Jess and I were still scouting the room when the band’s host stepped up to the stage.
