by Jenny Penn
“You really want to go hang out with those fools?” Cindy pressed.
“I really want to go swimming and eat free food,” Cybil corrected her. “And if all of you come, I’ll have somebody to talk to.”
Janice and Cindy looked at each other and shrugged before Janice answered, speaking for the both of them. “Okay. We’re in.”
“But I don’t have a bathing suit,” Kristen spoke up, though not loud enough for any of the women to hear her other than Cybil, who shot her a comforting smile.
“Don’t worry, honey. We’ll get you one.”
“Uh-oh, check it out,” Cindy leaned in to whisper as she nodded to the portly waitress who had come storming back out of the kitchen. “Heather looks fit to be tied.”
That was an understatement. From where Kristen sat, she would have said the woman looked hurt. There was no denying who had caused her pain. A hush fell over the dining room as she stormed over to the sheriff and gave him a look that assured everybody knew she thought he was the dirt beneath her feet.
“Get out.”
A long, tense moment followed before the sheriff scooped up his hat and shoved out of his seat. Without a word, he stormed through the dining room and out the front door, leaving a trail of whispers growing in his wake. Those whispers swirled around the table as Kristen gathered that nobody thought that situation was going to end well.
Kristen rather thought that it was her situation that wasn’t going to end well. After all, she didn’t not only own a swimming suit. She didn’t know how to swim and was afraid there were going to be sharks in the water.
She fretted over the matter the rest of the day and couldn’t help but ask Gwen what she thought that night. That was mistake. Before she knew it, they were down at the mall in Dothan with Gwen picking out bikinis that covered less than Kristen’s underwear.
“I’m not wearing that.” Kristen shook her head, refusing to take the skimpy two-piece from Gwen’s hands. “It’s inappropriate.”
“It’s a bathing suit,” Gwen corrected, snatching up Kristen’s hand and slapping the hanger into it as she imparted even more of her sage wisdom. “It’s supposed to be inappropriate, and we’re not going to know if you’re wearing it until you try it on.”
“But…what about this one?” Kristen gestured to a black and white polka-dotted one-piece. “It has a nice little skirt.”
“And unless you’re forty, hairy, and have a few kids running around, it’s inappropriate,” Gwen snapped before jabbing a finger toward the changing room. “Now go try on the bikini.”
Conditioned to do as she was told, Kristen slowly began heading for the changing room. Once she got there, she moved even slower, feeling completely stupid as she shed her clothes and strapped on the stringy two piece that didn’t cover as much as her underwear. In fact, her underwear stuck way out, which Gwen took immediate notice of the second she stuck her head into the changing room.
“Oh God. Look at those granny panties,” Gwen groaned, both embarrassing and horrifying Kristen as she declared that new underwear was needed.
Before she could object, much less even stop her, Gwen had bought Kristen not only the bathing suit but also a whole set of lacy thongs that Kristen would never wear. Just the idea of having a string floss her there had her blushing. Her nightmare, though, hadn’t ended.
It had only just begun.
That became clear as, instead of heading for home, Gwen headed to an all-too-familiar strip mall and the small salon tucked into it. Kristen stared up at the door Gwen led her to but refused to budge as she read the sign.
“We’re getting tans?” She blinked, not certain she wanted to risk her delicate skin in some human glow tube.
“No. Don’t be ridiculous.” Gwen smirked. “We’ll work on those on Saturday at the party, but first…well, I hate to tell you this, cuz, but you are a little hairy.”
Gwen imparted that news in a hushed whisper as she pointedly glanced down. “You know, down there.”
Kristen felt her face go up in flames as the truth of what Gwen was implying hit her. As if that humiliation wasn’t enough, the truth of what Gwen intended hit her, and Kristen dug her heels in.
“No. No way. I’m not getting…”
“Waxed?” Gwen provided when she couldn’t seem to get the word out. “Don’t be embarrassed. Be thankful we caught this before any of the guys found out you’re bush. Now come on.”
With that blunt summation of the situation, Gwen latched onto her arm and began dragging Kristen toward the door.
Chapter 5
Saturday, May 10th
Brandon woke up early Saturday to go for his ritual run. Dylan wasn’t anywhere around, but he hadn’t expected him to be. Alex had decided to punish the man for picking on the little Miss Kristen, assigning him the night shift all weekend and assuring his buddy wouldn’t be able to enjoy the party that afternoon for more than a few hours.
Brandon, though, was free and clear with the whole day to himself. He had a full day planned. Those plans started with jogging all the way down to Gwen’s street and then past her house in the chance he might catch Miss Kristen out and about.
That had been his hope for the past several days, but Miss Kristen had yet to show her pretty face or to admire Brandon’s sweaty physique, which was just why he’d taken to running without a shirt.
That was okay. He’d catch up with her later at Duncan’s party. Brandon had it on good authority from Gwen that she was bringing her cousin, and he couldn’t wait to see what kind of bathing suit the woman owned. Brandon was betting on something with a skirt.
That is if Gwen didn’t dress her. It had become clear over the past two days that Gwen had taken to dressing her cousin up like some deranged doll. It hadn’t helped that she was pulling from her own wardrobe, which was clear from the horrible fit of Kristen’s clothes. Gwen was built like a playmate, a surgically enhanced one, where Kristen was more petite and delicate, even fragile looking.
She was clearly way too shy to put up with the games that Dylan liked to play, but that was okay by Brandon. He wasn’t looking forward to introducing Kristen to the exotic world of erotic delights because he wanted to win some bet. He was just looking forward to the fun.
Fun was the last thing Dylan looked like he was having by the time Brandon made it home. He entered through the garage, coming into the kitchen to find Dylan bent over the coffee maker as he watched it drip looking haggard.
“Rough night?” he asked, though that much was already obvious.
“Floyd and Frank Young got into it again,” Dylan muttered, offering no further explanation because none was needed.
When it came to the title fight of town drunks, the two brothers could throw down and often did. With Floyd tipping the scales at three hundred pounds and his brother being bigger than that, it normally took a good four to five deputies to separate them and a few extra to pin them. That wasn’t anybody’s idea of a good time.
“You still thinking you’re going to make it to the party this afternoon?” Brandon wouldn’t be disappointed if the answer was no, but it wasn’t.
“Of course, I’ll drop by for a while.” Dylan glanced up from the coffee pot to shoot Brandon a smirk as he pulled out the milk from the refrigerator. “Can’t miss the sight of Miss Kristen in her bathing suit, can I?”
That drew a sour look from Brandon as he slapped the refrigerator door closed. “Why do you have to be like that? Huh? You know I’m sweet on the girl.”
“Which is just why I’ve got to be like this,” Dylan shot back. “Wherever you go, I shall follow.”
That stopped Brandon dead in his tracks as he realized just what Dylan was thinking, but he was crazy to think it. Too crazy, even for Dylan.
“You don’t actually think we’re going to share her, do you?” Brandon gaped at Dylan as his buddy snickered.
“Why not? Why should Kristen be any different?”
“Because she’s probably never been kissed!”
“So she’s a late bloomer.” Dylan shrugged, seeming completely unaware of the ridiculousness of his comments. “That doesn’t mean she can’t bloom.”
“No!” Brandon shook his head. “I’m putting my foot down.”
“Oh, are you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, then,” Dylan drawled out as he turned around to confront Brandon and warn him that he’d made a mistake in challenging a man who loved to take on any dare. “If it’s not united we stand, then you know how it’s going to fall.”
“Damn it, Dylan, this isn’t a game,” Brandon argued. “I’m serious.”
“About the girl?”
“Yeah.” Actually he didn’t know if he was. The only thing Brandon knew was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, which was kind of insane.
“She hasn’t even spoken two words to you.” Dylan snickered.
That was actually part of the allure in a weird way. It was the mystery of what was really going on behind those cloudy gray eyes that had Brandon wondering just what she was really thinking. Who knew?
She’d covered for them with the sheriff, which had shocked Brandon outright. He hadn’t expected that at all given her mother’s disposition. It left him wondering if maybe Dylan wasn’t right. Kristen was cutting ties and just starting to bloom.
“Hello? Earth to Brandon.” Dylan snapped his fingers at Brandon, jarring him out of his thoughts and back to the argument they’d been having.
“Hello, it’s Uranus calling to tell you to get your head out of your shithole and stop being a dick,” Brandon shot back, going with as juvenile a response as Dylan deserved.
Dylan knew it, too, which was probably why he laughed instead of taking offense at that observation. Of course, that’s because Dylan excelled at juvenile behavior. Brandon was playing on his home turf.
“You know what’s grosser than gross, man?”
“I’m going to go get a shower,” Brandon stated, not about to engage Dylan at this game. Instead, he headed for the door, taking the milk with him as Dylan called out after him.
“A man so pathetic he can’t even get up the nerve to talk to the girl he likes!”
* * * *
Dylan laughed as Brandon slammed the bathroom door loud enough to echo down the hall and into the kitchen. His buddy was in somewhat of a temper. He had been these past few days, ever since Duncan and Dylan had agreed to make Kristen the prize of the Deputy Dawg Challenge. They’d named it after Killian just to irritate him, not that the man needed help with his brooding.
God help them all. There wasn’t a man on the force who didn’t pray daily for Rachel to take Killian and Adam back and save them all from the two deputies’ dour moods. They were grumpy and distracted because that’s what women like Rachel, like Kristen, did to a man. Whether Brandon wanted him to or not, Dylan was going to save his friend from that fate.
That is if it wasn’t already too late.
There was a frightening thought. Brandon was Dylan’s wingman. He couldn’t lose his wingman. That was what was really motivating Dylan. He knew it was selfish. He didn’t care. He didn’t worry either that he’d end up hurting Kristen. In fact, that thought was unfathomable.
Dylan had known and been with a lot of women. Not a single one of them had a bad word to say about him, except maybe that he was brash, but he didn’t see any reason to either bother lying or disguising his intent. Those were two lessons Miss Kristen was soon to learn. It was a lesson that Brandon already knew, which probably explained why he didn’t bother arguing over the woman.
There would be no point.
Brandon could make his choice to aid Dylan’s cause or be prepared to battle. He hadn’t made his decision. That much became clear as they headed out for Duncan’s party several hours later. They were some of the first guests to arrive, most of the women choosing to show up late.
He had to admit he was surprised when Cybil and her gang showed up at all. Duncan was clearly caught off guard, too, but he was gracious enough not to let it show as the woman picked up drinks and then pointedly distanced themselves from almost every other body there. They took to the loungers on the far side of the pool, which was just where Kristen headed when she showed up an hour later, following behind Gwen and her friends.
Dylan noticed her right off, mainly because Brandon’s attention suddenly shifted from talking about going fishing the next day to the women at the back. Otherwise, Kristen was easily missed in the bevy of beauties stripping down to next to nothing. Within a minute the gaggle of scantily clad, nicely endowed, half-naked women were swarming around them.
That was normally when things got fun and, better yet, interesting, but Dylan kept glancing back at Kristen. She’d seated herself on the foot of a lounger and was quietly listening to the other women. Occasionally she’d smile or nod, but damned if he ever saw her actually speak.
That began to bug Dylan as he wondered if she had nothing to say or was afraid to say what she thought. One meant she was boring as dirt. The other intrigued him, making Dylan wonder what she was thinking that couldn’t be said. There was somebody who might know the answer to that.
Dylan glanced over at where Gwen was hanging off of Duncan’s arm, pointedly pressing her generous bosom into the man’s side. She was on the make, as usual, and she normally got what she wanted. Not that she was that good looking, but she was that well rounded and easy to boot, which explained why, when she noticed Dylan staring, she immediately abandoned one mark and latched onto him.
“Was there something you wanted?” Gwen all but purred as she pressed her big tits into his side. They were soft, and he knew not real. Not that it mattered. Not then. He had other interests at that moment.
“Yeah, I was wondering about your cousin.”
“Oh, her.” Gwen sighed and stepped back with a look of disappointment. “Yes, she’s probably a virgin.”
“What?” Dylan blinked, unsure of where that had come from.
“She’s a virgin,” Gwen repeated without any sense of shame. “That’s what you were going to ask, right? I mean that’s what everybody has been asking.”
“Actually, I was just wondering what was up with her.”
“What?” Gwen glanced over at where Kristen sat before making a face and turning back to Dylan. “Nothing is up with her.”
“Does she speak?” Dylan pressed, only appearing to confuse Gwen all the more.
“Huh?” Gwen frowned. “Of course. I mean, sometimes. Why? What do you care what she’s got to say?”
“He cares about the competition,” Duncan butted in, carrying two plastic cups full of beer and passing one over to Gwen. She took it, though she appeared more interested in what Duncan had said than the drink he offered her.
“What competition?”
“The deputies’ competition,” Duncan elaborated, going into greater detail as Gwen prodded him along.
It would have been appropriate, if not expected, for Gwen to get indignant on her cousin’s behalf when she found out the deputies had turned her virginity into a prize, but Gwen had never cared about appropriate. Instead, she laughed and shook her head.
“You idiots.” Gwen snickered and shook her head. “Isn’t it obvious? Nobody is going to pop that cherry until they put a ring on that finger.”
“There is no such thing as the un-seducible,” Dylan insisted. “It’s not even a word. So watch and learn.”
Snatching Gwen’s beer out of her hand before she even took a sip, he headed off around the pool that had already started to fill up with people splashing all about and hollering. Somebody cranked up the music, and by the time he made it over to the old lady group, the sound was deafening.
Dylan shot an annoyed glance back across the pool where Duncan was grinning at him from the stereo before plastering a smile on his face and approaching Miss Kristen.
“Excuse me?” Dylan spoke up, interrupting the conversation, only nobody heard him or responded. So he tapped Kristen on the
shoulder, making her start as she turned.
“I’m glad to see you made it,” he began again but didn’t think she heard him as she shook her head.
“I’m sorry. I…drink…you.”
Dylan didn’t catch everything she said, but the way she smiled, nodded, and turned her back, he knew he’d been dismissed. Everybody else knew it, too. Their howls of laughter echoed across the pool, but Dylan wasn’t so easily turned off. Just the opposite. He was kind of turned on.
So he tapped her on the shoulder again, this time drawing a frown from the woman, but Dylan wouldn’t relent. He just spoke louder.
“I’m glad to see you made it.”
Kristen’s frown deepened, and she shook her head. Dylan knew she hadn’t heard him. So he spoke even louder.
“I’m glad to see you made it!”
The music clicked off halfway through his practiced line, leaving him yelling like a fool and drawing every eye in his direction. Kristen blushed, clearly embarrassed by the sudden attention, but Dylan wasn’t. Instead, he silently promised to get Duncan back as he reached out and latched onto her hand.
“Come on, let’s get you some food.”
“But I’m not hungry,” Kristen responded as he began dragging her back around the pool.
“Well then, you can watch me eat,” Dylan offered.
“I can?” Kristen blinked.
“Yeah, and while I’m chewing, you can tell me about yourself.” Dylan shot her a smile. “I’m interested in hearing everything you have to say.”
Kristen frowned at that. “Everything?”
“Yes.” Dylan pulled to a stop near to the buffet of chips and sub sandwiches. He paused to release Kristen and hold his hands up in surrender. “Go on and hit me with what you’re thinking right now.”
“You’re very rude.”
“What?” Dylan hadn’t expected that.
“You’re very rude,” Kristen repeated, slower this time as if he was a little slow himself. “You didn’t say hello to my friends. You dragged me over here without actually asking me. You humiliated me the other day at the station house, and you were lewd at the bakery. I think you’re very rude.”
