Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills Series Book 6)

by Mary B. Moore

  The smile on Ava’s face dropped. “What are you going to do if you don’t get the job?”

  I’d thought long and hard about this before making the call to the school in Boston and the company moving my things. “If I don’t get it, I’ll set up a business as a tutor while I help Dad out with the business.”

  The smile on her face this time was immense. “So we get you back no matter what.”

  “Looks like it.”

  Squealing, she clapped her hands together, then gave Logan a gentle shove. “We’re getting her back.”

  “‘Bout fucking time.”

  There was a chorus of chuckles from behind us again, only this time it looked like the whole department was there, watching the show playing out in front of them.

  “That was eloquently put,” a guy I recognized as Garrett snickered. I’d met his girlfriend Tamsin, who worked at Piersville High, yesterday when Tabby had invited me out for coffee during their lunch break, and he’d been in the area and dropped in to join us. Then, looking at me, he added, “He’s a man of so many words. I don’t know how you can resist.”

  Logan shifting beside me, brought my attention back to where he was glaring at them all.

  “So, that’s the update,” I said lamely, figuring now was the best time to remove myself from the awkwardness of it all. Then, remembering the other thing I was here to do, I dug around in my bag until I found the clump of keys he needed. “Here’s the spare set of keys for the house because your one is only for the front door. I marked the front door with red nail polish, the back door with green, the garage with pink…” I trailed off when he started laughing as he inspected them.

  “I’ll figure it out, but thank you for narrowing it down. Jesus, how many keys did Lawrence need?”

  The answer was: fourteen, that’s how many were on the keyring I’d given him.

  “If it makes you feel any better, the one I’m carrying around has six more than yours.”

  “What the hell are they for?”

  “My best guess is windows, doors, old door locks, probably a couple of the boxes in the loft, drawers—”

  “He’s got a spare for my grandpa’s place,” he interrupted. “I couldn’t tell you which one it is, though, but just in case you get a call one day saying he’s locked himself out and no one with a key is nearby.”

  “I’ll be ready and waiting for that call, but warn him I won’t be around until Tuesday, so not to do it before then, or he’s kind of screwed.”

  Chuckling again, he tossed the mass of keys in the air and caught them, wincing as they hit his palm.

  Checking my watch, I realized time was getting on, and I had to go through the final instructions if I wanted to get any sleep before the flight.

  “You guys are taking the furniture out over the weekend, right?”

  “Right. We’re going to put as much in the garage as possible, then we’ll store the rest of it at Ren’s place. He doesn’t have plans for the space for a good five months, so he said not to panic about sorting it out. Did you put the Post-It notes on the stuff you wanted to stay in your bedroom?”

  “It’s only the bed, side table, and the drawer unit that needs to stay, but just in case you develop amnesia between now and then, I stuck pink ones on them.”

  “I’ll make sure they’re left behind. If you need anything else, though, just call or text, and I’ll get it sorted out,” he promised, taking a step closer.

  It felt awkward with all of the eyes on us as he leaned in to hug me, watching us like we were the best entertainment since the television was invented.

  And then it got more awkward.

  Just as I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, he turned his head to do the same, meaning that our lips pressed against each other instead of hitting our intended targets.

  I’d been mid-blink when it happened, and when my eyes shot open, I was looking straight into his shocked blue ones. No doubt our expressions were identical, and if you couldn’t guess what that looked like, imagine a total what the fuck one, times two.

  I didn’t know what to do, but later on when I was on the plane, I’d smack myself on the forehead and wonder why I hadn’t pulled away immediately. On the tail end of that, I’d wonder why he hadn’t pulled away immediately either.

  But, at that moment, we stood there for a good minute, neither of us pulling back.

  That was until choking noises from the peanut gallery reached us, and like a fool, I pressed my lips harder against his and made an exaggerated “mwwwah” noise.

  And then, just to hammer into my reputation that I was a total twat, I made it much worse.

  Oh, so much worse.

  Reaching up, I tapped his nose with the tip of my finger and shouted, “Boop!” Then I lightly tapped the top of his head with my fist and sang, “Knock, knock.”

  The choking sounds got louder, and even Ava was making them now, as Logan’s eyes widened at what I’d done.

  A glance behind him showed his colleagues either bent over with their shoulders shaking as they laughed quietly—with the odd snort or wheeze reaching us—or they were holding their side with one hand and covering their mouths with the other. Evil bastards! Not that Ava was much better when I looked over at her. She’d crouched down with her hands covering her face as she laughed and snorted into them.

  Why does my life suck so much? For someone who woke up cringing and reliving awkward and embarrassing moments from her childhood, this one would haunt me until they put me six feet in the ground. Knowing my luck, I’d be stuck in the afterlife with it still chasing after me.

  Clearing my throat, I threw a hand up and waved it frantically. “Okay, we need to go. If you need me, just text, and I’ll obviously answer… You know, by text? On my phone?” I pulled the device out of my purse and moved it around in front of him.

  He knows what a fucking phone is, Bexley. Stop before you dig a deeper hole. Then again, maybe digging a hole and burying yourself in it might not be the worst idea?

  “Uh,” he hummed, watching me warily like he was expecting me to run away. “I’ll definitely do that. Have a good trip,” he glanced at Ava, “both of you.”

  The others were still laughing as I literally ran out of the building and back to my car, except as I got to the door, the laughter changed from the odd snort to outright bellows. Why didn’t the door close faster?

  I managed to get into the car without knocking myself out on the roof, and was reversing out of the space before Ava even had her belt on.

  “Don’t say a word,” I growled as we drove toward her and Mace’s house to pick up her bag. He was away just now doing something with some of his Marine buddies, which was why she didn’t even hesitate when I asked if she wanted to come with me to collect my stuff. Something that I was second-guessing the wisdom of. “If I don’t move back, maybe I’ll forget about it?”

  “I doubt it,” she gasped, still laughing. “That was— I don’t think any of us will be able to forget that.”

  “Shut up.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  There was a long pause, and then I sighed. “I wasn’t thinking. I panicked.”

  “You—” she broke off with a wheeze. “You booped his nose.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  She only just managed to get out, “Knock, knock,” before she burst out laughing, full belly laughs. “His face!”

  Wincing, I thought about his expression. It was a cross between shock, horror, and total confusion.

  “My life sucks!”

  “Girl, if that’s your way of seducing a guy, we need to work on your game while we’re away,” she snickered, wiping under her eyes. “I can’t unsee it.”

  Neither could I.

  Pulling into her drive, I cut the engine and dropped my head onto the steering wheel, ignoring the buttons pressing painfully into my forehead.

  Four days was enough time for people to forget about it. They were law enforcement officers, for fuck’s s
ake, they dealt with bizarre and hideous things every day, didn’t they? Surely one of the cases would delete the memory of me booping Logan on the nose and then knocking on his head… Right?

  Chapter Seven

  Logan

  Two days later…

  “Okay, that’s the last of it,” Kenton sighed, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, but Dad put a majority of his shit in the attic.”

  “Dibs, I don’t have to come and help out with that,” Tom Townsend yelled, holding his hand in the air.

  Not missing a beat, Hurst clapped him on the shoulder. “So nice of you to offer. I’ll write your name down.”

  Glaring at his grandpa, Tom stalked away to where his brothers were standing laughing.

  Seeing DB, Garrett, Ellis, Alejandro, and Carter standing in a group, looking at something, I walked over to join them, squeezing in between two of them to see the screen of what turned out to be one of their phones.

  “Pa-pa-pang pai,” Ava shouted, as the group behind her chanted, “Down in one, down in one.”

  Squinting, I made out what looked like a restaurant with Ava and Bexley sitting at a table, surrounded by other patrons. On the table were plates with the remnants of what they’d eaten and numerous small ceramic shot glasses.

  “What’s this?”

  “Ava and Bex went to a Chinese restaurant last night and ended up doing Sake shooters. The video went viral on the internet because a news crew were visiting the building next door and heard the noise,” DB explained, bursting out laughing when Bex and Ava shot the contents of the little glasses down and fell backward off their chairs.

  Only those two would go to a Chinese restaurant, get drunk on Japanese rice wine, and then get filmed by a news crew.

  I was just about to call her dad over to join us when Ava squealed, “Totally! He’s right, Bex. We need to have a cigar to celebrate.”

  That wasn’t what stopped me from showing him the video.

  No, that was Bex shaking her head and saying, “I can’t. I’ve got the worst gag reflex. Even eating bananas triggers it, and if I stick a cigar in my mouth, I’ll probably puke. Just thinking ‘bout it makes me—” she broke off, gagging and cringing.

  All of the guys looked at me sympathetically. “Sucks to be you, dude,” Cole Townsend murmured behind me, clapping me on the shoulder and shaking it gently. “That doesn’t bode well for you.”

  “What doesn’t?” Kenton asked as he joined us. Hearing his daughter’s voice coming from the video, he frowned and squeezed between Ellis and Garrett to see the screen of the phone. “Is she… Wait, why does that have the logo for a news channel on it? Did Bexley get into trouble?”

  None of us got to answer him because just then, the news anchor came onto the screen.

  “When we went to Torus Trading to report on the organized crime and money laundering operation that was uncovered yesterday, we assumed we were finished with our story. As we left the building, we heard screaming and shouting from Pia’s Lotus, an establishment known for its cuisine and variety of Sakes, and assumed we were stumbling across something seedy and sinister related to the original story we were reporting on. What we saw here tonight was, in fact, the celebrations of two women that ended up bringing people together, people who were in shock at what had been going on in their city, under their noses, this whole time. If this isn’t proof that we can withstand anything, I don’t know what is.”

  If it’d stopped there, it would have been okay for Kenton. Instead, just then, the crowd started roaring, “Gag reflex, gag reflex!” just as Bex tried to eat a banana in the background. We saw a brief glimpse of her gagging as she bit into the tip, then the video cut off.

  “Damn,” Carter whispered next to me. “You’re screwed, man.”

  Kenton straightened, his lips pinched tightly together, and then asked, “Whose phone is that?”

  Normally DB was a take-charge kind of guy, the one who spoke clearly and confidently no matter what. However, at that moment, when he replied with, “It’s mine, sir,” he sounded more like a kid who’d been caught doing something wrong than the sheriff he was.

  “Send it to me,” Kenton ordered, pulling his phone out and reeling off his number. In seconds his phone beeped, and we heard the video start again from the beginning.

  We all could have moved away and at least pretended to be doing something, but for some unknown reason, we were rooted to the spot until he got to the end.

  “I’m going to kick her ass,” Kenton muttered, putting his phone in his pocket. “No,” he glared at me, “you’re going to kick her ass.”

  “More like kiss it,” Garrett snickered, getting a glare from me and a curious look from Bex’s dad.

  “What’s that? They kissed?” When the guys from work all nodded, he looked expectantly at me. “Well, all right, then. It took you long enough! So, you kick her ass, and me and her mother will just lecture her about doing dumb shit on live television. Not that I expect her ever to go on live television again,” he added, more to himself than the rest of us.

  Raising my hand slowly, I told him, “Uh, the kiss wasn’t exactly an intentional one.” I could feel my cheeks burning as the others smirked at me behind him, including Hurst. “It was an accident. I mean, not exactly an accident because I was aiming for her cheek, but then she tried to kiss my cheek, and we didn’t get the angles right.” I swear, it was like someone had erased all of the pauses speech patterns had to separate words because they all just mixed together.

  For shit’s sake, I was telling her dad I’d kissed his daughter… The daughter who I’d humiliated seven years ago so badly that she pretty much ran away from home.

  Just to add to my embarrassment, Grandpa walked up behind her dad, having disappeared to use the bathroom a couple of minutes before this atomic bomb had hit.

  “Son, not sure you wanna tell a father that you kissed his daughter in public by mistake. See, she’s got a reputation to uphold, and you kissing her makes your intentions known, if you get my drift.”

  Glaring at him, I snapped, “It’s not the eighteenth century anymore, Grandpa. Welcome to the modern ages where shit like that happens all the time.”

  Smiling smugly at me, he shrugged, “You’re still telling the poor girl’s dad you kissed her, and it didn’t mean jack to you. How would you feel if that was your daughter?”

  “I’d be kicking his ass if he did that to Layla,” Hurst chimed in, winking at me evilly behind Kenton’s back.

  Looking down at his boots, Kenton shook his head and sighed sadly. “It’s going to break Lorena’s heart when I show her this video and tell her you kissed our daughter—our only baby—and it was all a worthless mistake. You know, Pops always said y’all were meant for each other, and with you stepping up the way you have, he’d be so happy.”

  “Damn, son,” Gramps winced. “You’ve broken a dead man’s heart and her mother’s.”

  Kenton was opening his mouth to say something else, so I threw my hands up in the air. “Fine! It meant something, okay? It meant a lot, but it was still an accident. She didn’t mean to kiss me—”

  “And she booped him on the nose and knocked twice on his head after it,” Carter interrupted, laughing his ass off with the others. “I think we’ve got it on the security cam from the reception area. Funniest shit I’ve seen in a long time.”

  “What’s this?” Alex asked as he joined us.

  “When Logan kissed Bex,” DB explained through his laughter. “I need to pull the footage up so we can relive it.”

  The typically somber and serious Alex burst out laughing, getting a glare from me.

  “Sorry, man, but it was hilarious. I was just coming out of the door from the cells when it happened. I swear I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

  “So you’ll talk to her about doing dumb shit?” her dad asked again, looking at me hopefully.

  Rubbing my face with both hands, I gave in. “Fine, I’ll tal
k to her about it, but knowing Bex, she’ll probably stew over it for the next thirty years anyway.”

  Nodding at me, he turned back to the house and shouted, “Time to make it look like a homicidal maniac’s dream.”

  Yup, because I was a sucker, we were going back in to put the plastic down on the floors for her.

  As we walked back, Alex asked, “Why are we doing this if she’s getting them sanded and refinished?”

  “Because she doesn’t want to risk the guy sanding down too far. She got it in her head that if she gets paint on it, he’ll have to sand down, even more, to get it off and ruin the grain of the wood,” I explained.

  “She’s not all wrong,” Hurst nodded. “That can happen. When we were redoing the house, Lindee dropped yellow paint on the floor, and sanding it out was a bitch. The guy who came to refinish the floors had to sand a bit more to get it out of the grain, which meant he had to put an extra coat of varnish over the area. I swear even now, it looks different.”

  I have no idea if that was true because I’d never done it before, but Bex had started the job, so I was going to have to finish it.

  With the mental image of her shitty gag reflex haunting me.

  The next day…

  I hadn’t slept for shit last night, and coming into work today to hear that Diego Mantoya, his buddy the linebacker, Ashesh, had made bail just put me in an even worse mood.

  “Once it goes to court, they’ll be sentenced. It’s just shitty they got bail,” DB sighed as he told me the news.

  “How did that even happen? He’s got a record for similar crimes. Hell, we found the drugs in his home, we have Cinder’s statement, and we’ve got the bodycam footage of those fucking tear gas canisters,” I growled, wanting to tear the head off whoever granted him bail.

  “I don’t have the answers for why, Logan. The judge heard the case this morning and granted it. We’ve got three months until his next appearance in court for the case, so we gather as much evidence as we can, and we keep an eye on them.”

  “It was Ingleston, wasn’t it?”