Lord Have Mercy (Southern Gentleman 2)

“What’s your name?” I asked, seeing that I’d intrigued the kid with the anonymous tip program.

“Keith,” he answered. “Keith Johnston.”

I nodded once and held out my free hand. “Have a good day, Keith.”

Keith smiled tightly. “You, too, Officer Flint.”

With that he was gone, disappearing inside the grocery store, coming to a stop next to an older woman that was in a powered mobility scooter.

Taking one last glance at the kid, I headed to my cruiser and hopped inside. Once I set an alarm on my phone for an hour from now to check the submissions, I headed in the direction of Camryn’s place.

I came to a stop outside her house to find her on the front porch swing, slowly swinging away while she skimmed over the newspaper and drank from a large silver mug of what had to be coffee.

The moment that I got out of my cruiser, she looked up, and her eyes widened.

Grinning, I looked down at myself.

I was in sweatpants, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops.

Her eyes started on my face and came to a rest on my crotch.

I looked down to see what held her so transfixed, but saw nothing.

Reaching back into the passenger side, I grabbed the buttermilk and headed up Camryn’s front walk. The closer I got, the wider her eyes became.

“What?” I asked when I got to the first step of her porch.

She licked her lips and brought her coffee cup up to cover her smile.

“I can see the entire outline of your dick.” She paused. “Not that I’m complaining, but I hope that you didn’t go out like that.”

I looked down to see if I could see my dick, and couldn’t. “You can’t see my dick.”

“Not when you bend down like that you can’t. It tents up the front of your pants. But when you’re standing up straight, you sure the fuck can.” She paused. “Very, very well.”

I gestured at her with my chin. “Take a picture.”

She didn’t hesitate. Taking the phone from the swing beside her, she pulled it up and aimed it at my crotch. Seconds later she was holding her phone out to me.

I took it in my hands and humphed. “Well, look at that. You can.”

“I like them,” she said. “But you probably should be aware that you might cause minor motor vehicle accidents if you cross the road in those.”

I grinned wildly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Taking the last few steps, I walked past her and into the house, tapping away on her phone while I moved. By the time I got to her kitchen, I’d programmed my sweatpants dick shot as not only the wallpaper on her phone but as her lock screen as well.

By the time she arrived to where I was standing in the kitchen, I’d put it down on the counter and already started in on breakfast.

“What are you making me?” she asked excitedly.

“Pancakes,” I said as I gestured to the bar where a few stools stood. “Take a seat and watch the master work.”

She snorted, but nonetheless did as I asked, taking a seat at the bar so that she could face me.

“I’m not normally a pancake person,” she said teasingly. “At least not lately. There’s this guy that is really strict about what I eat.”

I grinned at her. “They’re healthy…ish. They’re protein pancakes that I stole from someone on Pinterest.”

“You have a Pinterest?” she asked with surprise. “I thought men didn’t get on Pinterest. I thought that was only a female thing.”

I shrugged. “It’s a very good website. I look for workouts on there. If I like them, I tweak them to fit my needs and the needs of my gym goers. It’s actually quite convenient.”

“So you’re telling me that the workout we’re doing tomorrow, that I just saw you post, is something you got off of Pinterest?” she teased.

“No,” I disagreed. “That one is all me. I combined a couple of hero WODs—workout of the days—and made a really sucky one that everyone hates. I call it a benchmark. We do it once a month on Sundays. That way the people that don’t want to come don’t have to, and the people that want to do it can. But, just sayin’, it’s not really a beginner workout. But you can give it a try. Most beginners do.”

She shook her head. “I’m going. Though, I’m not quite sure if that’s because Raleigh is making me, or because I actually want to go. I ate pretty badly last night, and I’m thinking that I need to atone for my sins by going.”

I snorted. “You can have a cheat meal every once in a while. It’s not going to kill you.”

She stood up and walked to the fridge where she pulled out a couple of beers. “Since I’m going to hell, I might as well enjoy the night before.”