“Stand outside his place in a sundress with one hand on your heart?” Faye throws in, of course, because she does.
I feel the color rise from my neck to my face. “No. I’m not going to do any of that.”
“We thought you might say that. So we made a casserole for you to take him.” Wilma delivers it as a directive, not a suggestion.
“I’m not taking him a casserole.”
“Maybe you could declare your love at the same time.” Faye’s pushing boundaries.
“Oh my lord.” I snatch the phone from my back pocket. “Have you ladies met him? He’s not the kind of man who sleeps in the same saddle twice!” I don’t realize I’m shouting until all eyes are on me.
Shit.
The hush that follows feels louder than the shouting.
12: TELL ME ABOUT LEVI’S ERECTION
HART
––––––––
I’VE BEEN IN jail exactly six hours and sixteen minutes, and the highlight so far was when Sheriff Nash dropped his sandwich on the floor, picked it up with a grunt, and ate it anyway.
That was at the four-hour mark. He hasn’t spoken much more than three-word sentences since. And he hasn’t moved from his desk either.
He sits there now, across from my cell, thumbing through a Bass Pro Shops catalog.
I clear my throat.
Nothing.
I rattle the bars a little.
He raises one eyebrow like he might tase me just for sport.
“How long am I in here?”
“Depends.” His boots rest on the edge of the desk.
“On what?”
“My mood.”
Fuck me. I swear the guy just likes to hold people overnight for company.
“That’s great, Nash. You want me to braid your hair next, or are we skipping straight to ghost stories?”
“You braid, and I’ll tell you about that time I found Levi in The Underwood House with his pants down.” There’s no urgency in his tone; it remains flat and unchanging.
I curse.
“And rushing him to the Doc.” His voice drags on, even and dull. “When he landed on his erect—”
“Fuck no. Stop.” I spin around, digging my hands through my hair. “You tell the worst horror stories.”
I swear he chuckles. And Nash ain’t a chuckler, but I’m pretty sure he just did.
A low creak rolls from the front door all the way to my cell.
