Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Do you think the leather teddy would fit me?” Fitz scratches his chin.
“No.” I mirror his chin scratching. “Perhaps I should be the one to wear it.”
“And I’ll go as a smoke jumper.”
“Come on.” I grab his arm. “Let’s scrounge you a costume at the eleventh hour.”
“This is a terrible idea,” he grumbles while I pull him toward the door.
“Grab your keys,” I say. “We’ll be back.”
Maren and Will laugh. “Good luck.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
CALVIN
“Don’t give me that look,” Jamie says.
I’m not sure what look she’s referencing. Is it the there’s-no-fucking-way-I’m-letting-you-wear-that-leather-teddy-out-in-public look? Or is it the I-can’t-believe-I-let-you-talk-me-into-this-mouse-costume look? The same look works for both. Either way, I’m rethinking this party idea.
I don’t know if my long tail, pink nose, and whiskers do it for her, but I’ve never wanted to fuck a pussy so bad in my life. This woman looks more like a dominatrix than a cat.
“If you would have planned ahead of time, there would have been a bigger selection of costumes.” She practices whipping my pillow while I sulk in front of the mirror on my wall.
Her leather teddy barely covers her boobs. And the bottom of it doesn’t fully cover her ass.
“But let’s be honest, had there been a bigger selection, I still would have bought you the mouse costume. You have a few wrongs to right in the mouse community. Think of this as community service or a form of rehabilitation.” Again, she whips my pillow.
I adjust my erection so I don’t look like a mouse with a tumor. And yes, she bought the costume because I refused.
“Let’s go so we can hurry and leave the party.” I head toward the stairs just as Will opens his bedroom door dressed in his Jack Skellington costume.
He presses a fist to his mouth and sniggers. “Jesus, what the fuck, man?”
Before I can knock out his teeth, the wicked kitty steps out of my room. Will’s eyebrows crawl up his forehead as he drops his fist.
“Will! I love your Jack Skellington,” she squeals, jumping up and down.
“You look . . .” He whistles and shakes his head.
“Don’t look at her,” I warn just as she spins in a circle. “And don’t spin around.” I grab her shoulders and lead her down the stairs.
As soon as we get to the party, I fetch a drink from the cooler in the backyard. Alcohol is my best friend tonight. It will take the edge off the snickering behind my back.
Gary, Captain America, rests his elbow on my shoulder. Leaning against me like a pillar, he nods toward Jamie, her usual life-of-the-party self, with a group of women, including Evette. She certainly garners a lot of attention for someone who claims not to be a people person.
“As if showing up to my party in this mouse onesie didn’t already scream ‘pussy whipped.’ You actually brought a pussy with a whip.”
I don’t want to laugh, but I can’t help my grin. “Shut the fuck up.”
Gary cackles. “Seriously, man. I know she thinks she’s a cat, but she’s—”
“Don’t say it.”
A wet dream.
“Is she coming back to Missoula after her assignment in California?”
“I doubt it. She wants to travel the country. Why would she come back here?”
Gary stops using me as a post and turns toward me. “You. Ya dickhead.”
“She’s here now, but she’s not living here.” I take a long swig of my beer.
“Don’t you want to be with her?”
I nod toward her. “Here we are. See how easy that was?”
He shakes his head. “She’s in California. What happens when she’s someplace like Maine, working nights, less time off, longer and more expensive flights, and you’re in the middle of a long fire season? What kind of relationship is that?”
After staring at her for a few seconds, I shrug. “It is what it is.”
“Dang, Fitz. Whatever you do, don’t say those words to her. Women don’t like aloofness. Todd, what the hell are you supposed to be?” Gary heads toward the garage door, where Todd’s gesturing to his chest, but I’m not sure why.
Wicked Kitty, with her painted face, makes eye contact with me and worms her way in my direction from the opposite end of the porch. “Cheese?” She holds out her plate.
“You think that’s funny?”
She pops a cube into her mouth. “It’s not not funny.”
“What are your plans after you’re done in San Bernardino?”
“Don’t know yet. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
A tiny vein along her forehead pushes to the surface. “You’re a locked vault with some things, and with other things, you’re so transparent it’s cringeworthy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I steal a spiderweb pretzel from her plate.
“You’re scared to death that I’m going to move back to Missoula, and you’ll have to make a real decision to commit.” She turns.
I ogle her scantily clad body as it distances itself from me, getting lost in the sea of costumes. Am I supposed to go after her? I don’t know how this works.