Trixsters Anonymous

“I think Nina reads too many erotic books.” I try to sound annoyed but fail.

“Nina also says he’s ex-Army. You know what that means. I see a very smitten Emi in the future.”

I squirm in my seat. The first time I saw Pearl Harbor, I declared I was going to marry a military man. “You’re acting crazy. I’ve had one conversation with him.”

“Maybe, but I can’t wait to meet this Walker Scott.”

“Whatever.” I wave her off.

“I’ll bet you a hundred dollars he asks you out the next time you see each other.”

“You’re on. He’s helping me with my car, that’s it. Tell Nina not to start gossiping all over town.”

“Uh-huh, we’ll see.”

I gulp the rest of my wine, using the glass to hide my expression. The last thing I want her to see is the hope on my face.

The hope that I lose this bet.

“’Lo,” I answer my phone groggily, not checking the caller ID.

“Emerson?” I bolt up in my bed, completely awake, recognizing the deep, rich, gravelly tone.

“Yes?” My voice comes out in a

n unattractive croak.

“This is Walker Scott.”

“Hi, Detective Scott.”

“Did I wake you?”

I look at the clock and see it’s seven-thirty a.m. What the hell did he think I’d be doing? “Um, yeah, it’s the crack of ass in the morning.”

He chuckles, the rumble sending a tingle up my spine. “The sun is up. Pretty sure it’s been up for a while.”

“Not in my house. I’m coated in a cloud of darkness until at least eight a.m.”

“I highly doubt you could ever be coated in a cloud of darkness.” He mutters softly, but I still hear and fall back on my bed with a goofy grin.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me before the chickens crow?”

“You mean roosters?”

“Huh?”

“Roosters, they crow.”

“Whatever, you’re really confusing me.”

“Rooster… never mind. I called with information on Carlton Breen.”

“Fuck-stick,” I murmur under my breath.

He laughs again. “I need you to text me the name of your body shop and the quote for repairs.”

“He’s going to pay?”