Nice Buns (Cheap Thrills 7)

Innocence. We know what it means, and we get mental images when we think of the word that resembles its meaning in our minds. But here was an example that packed a punch I’d likely never forget.

A little girl unknowingly saving a boy’s life by giving him a lollipop of all things. The boy had treasured the candy since and kept it with items that came with overwhelming love and pain.

Years later, on a day that would rip the wounds of her loss open again, he gives it back to her. This time, in an adult way—a lollipop professionally mounted in a frame for her to stare at and get comfort from.

An innocent piece of candy changing lives.

“If you’re going to start crying, maybe go inside and see if Naomi’s around? I don’t do well with that shit,” he huffed and then got out of the cruiser, leaving me staring at his seat in shock.

Frowning, I undid my belt and got out. “I wasn’t going to cry, asshole. All I was doing was thinking how beautiful and perfect that was.”

Carter looked relieved. “Thanks. The guy says he’s finished framing it, so I need to go and collect it.”

Rapping my knuckles on the top of the cruiser, I smiled widely at him. “Thanks for being my wingman, Carter.”

“Sure thing, Maverick.” The wise-ass saluted me and then jogged up the steps to the entrance of the station.

I didn’t have anything I needed to do or drop off in there, so I locked up the cruiser and made my way to my car. The whole time I had Carter’s story running through my mind, and it kept molding itself into the situation with Evie and Cody.

We didn’t have that history at all. Over the months that we’d lived next to each other, we’d built up a friendship and a rapport, but it was a passing one. Sure, she was a beautiful woman, and I enjoyed talking to Cody, but it hadn’t been anything deep.

But over the last couple of months, things had started to change. I’d begun to notice them more often and found my eyes moving toward their house when I was in the yard, or at night when I’d wonder what she was doing.

If I was honest, I’d pictured her doing some stuff I’d never admit to out loud, and it’d fueled some hot dreams. But on the outside, our interactions were more blasé than anything.

Yesterday I’d allowed myself to admit that she was something I wanted badly. I’d dropped my walls to help Cody and let him know he wasn’t alone.

All of the intentions I had to just focus on DB and his family were still there and a priority, but I’d added more of them to my life—like Carter had with Naomi. He clearly hadn’t intended to end up living in the same town so far away from their home, but he was dropping his protective walls and his intense focus on just living his life.

I was doing the same.

I just hadn’t realized it until that moment.

So, yeah, as I drove home, I felt a little off-balance and unsure, but I also felt determination growing inside me.

Things like this didn’t change overnight. You didn’t go from walking down one road to taking multiple routes without thinking it through properly, so I’d take it slowly.

I also had to make sure that Evie was walking the same routes as me and that Cody was happy to take them, too.

Patience was a virtue that I had a lot of, and I was willing to let it work its magic in this situation.

Chapter Eleven

Evie

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Jacinda huffed as she put the contacts into her eyes.

“Talk you into it?” Sayla said drily. “Have you seen my predicament?”

I’d never been professionally trained in makeup, it was just something that came naturally to me. My special effects—or SFX—makeup had been learned from watching tutorials in my spare time, but I could admit I was good at it. Hair was my forte, but makeup came a close second.

Which was why I was currently looking at a replica of Neytiri from the movie Avatar and a female version of The Terminator.

Looking over her shoulder at Sayla’s Terminator look, she nodded. “You’re right, I was the lucky one.”

Then, reaching behind her, she used her tail like a whip and landed a solid smack on Sayla’s thigh, making her yelp.

“I mean, I only have a fucking tail. A tail, Sayla. And what the shit is this in my braid.” She held up the wig that we’d ordered for the look, which had the same weird pale tendrils in it that the characters used for sex, to ride horse-like creatures, to bond with their dragons, et cetera.

“That’s if you want to do the nasty with someone,” Sayla winked.