Trixsters Anonymous

“Before Walker, how long was it since you’d had sex?” Nina pipes in.

“I’m not telling you. For all I know, you’ll broadcast it across the police station tomorrow.”

“I won’t, pinky swear.” She offers her pinky, and I eye her suspiciously before gripping it with my own.

“Fine, I can tell you I had lots and lots of orgasms.”

“I’m not talking about your collection of silicone. I want to know when you’d had sex—hot, sweaty, body-grinding, fireworks-exploding sex,” Maren says a little too loud, attracting the attention of group near us.

I gawk at her, horrified, until Rachel starts to giggle, which spreads to all of us. The waitress interrupts, forcing us to straighten up, and Nina orders a round of tequila shots.

“Answer the question, Emi,” Maren continues.

“If you must know, I hadn’t had regular sex in a year. But nothing has ever happened like you described until I met Walker.”

“AAAGGGHHH, here goes the bragging again.” She drops her head back to the sky. “I can’t take it. I’m dying over here.”

“Are you saying slick-dick Carlton gave you hot, sweaty, body-grinding, fireworks-exploding sex?”

“No, that’s why I asked. I wanted to know if it does exist.”

“Yes, it exists.”

“You’re not the only one with a glow, Emi. Walker has a little pep in his step every day, too.” Nina surprises me with this information.

The thought of Walker with a pep in his step is humorous. “Really? He seems normal when he leaves me in the morning.”

“He’s always been a little broody. Nothing specific, but he’d speak when spoken to, never offering any personal information. It’s no secret that, when he started, all the single women in the Admin Pool started circling him. He was fresh meat. No one, not one woman, caught his eye enough for a conversation. And believe me, there were a lot of skimpy skirts and low-cut blouses for months. But now, he grins at people—actually grins. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, and the guys give him shit all the time.”

“Do the women still try to get his attention?” Jealousy spikes in my blood. I’ve seen the women Nina works with and most of them are really pretty.

“Maybe, who knows? It’s a wasted effort. He’s made it clear he’s only interested in one woman.”

“What did he say?” I scoot in closer.

“It’s not so much what he says but the way he acts when your name is mentioned. Oliver and Captain tell him stories once in a while about you, and he listens intently with this look in his eyes. A few times, I’ve seen his lips twist, trying to hide his grin. Except the one time they told him about when you were convinced you had a peeping Tom. That time, there was no twitch. Instead, his jaw started ticking. He was pissed.”

“Why would they tell him stories about me?”

“Because you’re a handful.”

“I’m not!” I throw my hands in the air. “How was I supposed to know the guy was a land surveyor? He was wearing plain clothes and carrying a camera.”

“Emi, I hate to break it to you, but your flare for the dramatic has given you a reputation. The guys at the station get a kick out of you.”

I’ve known this for years, and it’s never bothered me, but knowing that Walker is hearing it firsthand makes me feel like an idiot.

“Great, now I can’t even count on my law enforcement to take me seriously.”

“I doubt you need to worry about that. Your boyfriend told them he had you covered.”

This tidbit of information makes me feel a little better. The waitress returns with our shots, and Maren sits up, passing around the salt and lime slices.

“Last time we got together, we made the toast to Emi and it worked. So, tonight, I am selfish. To me, may the next time we get together, we talk about my dating life.” She raises her tequila in the air.

We all lick, swallow, and suck, my eyes watering with the sting of the alcohol burning down my throat. Suddenly, the air changes around us, and the hair on my arms stand on end. The same sensation washes over me from the night in the hotel bar at the gambling bust.

“Holy hell.” Maren pinches my knee, whispering low.