Page 91 of Seven Year Itch
Calder:That’s trippy. And looks way too expensive. No way is anyone going to buy that shit.
Dakota:Hush. You don’t know that.
Calder:Are you sure we shouldn’t drop the price? Your T-shirts aren’t that expensive. My shit looks way too overpriced next to your stuff.
Dakota:My friend Tatianna’s line is higher-end, so I think it’s fine. Just let it sit for a bit. You said yourself you weren’t in a hurry to get rid of them.
Calder:You’re the boss. My ass still hurts btw. Hockey should be interesting tonight.
Dakota:Maybe I should have sprung for the BPD.
Calder:I’ll take a whip to the ass over a big purple dildo any day.
Dakota:I thought you like to keep an open mind when it comes to all things kinky?
Calder:Even I have my limits, Ace.
Dakota:Does this count as sexting?
Calder:I don’t know. Are you turned on?
Dakota:A little.
Calder:Then, yes. And same.
Dakota:I love checking stuff off our list.
Calder:I know you do.
Dakota:Good luck at your game tonight.
Calder:Thanks, I’m going to need it.
The sound of a loud throat-clearing interrupts my texting and I glance up from my phone to find a stunning redhead standing before me with a teasing smirk.
She whacks my feet propped on the checkout desk and tuts, “Ma’am, I’d like some service, please.”
“Kate! How the hell are you?” I pull my feet down and run around the desk to give her a big hug.
“I’m great! How are you?” She squeezes me back and hooks her thumb toward the door. “I was just signing some books at the store, and thought I’d pop over to say hi. It’s been a while.”
“It has.” My lips purse as I take in the sight of her. She looks amazing.
Kate Smith is probably the most famous person in Boulder, but no one would ever know it. She writes erotic romance novels under the pen name of Mercedes Lee Loveletter and hits all thebestseller charts. She even has a movie and a Netflix show based on one of her series. She owns an independent bookstore just around the corner that specializes in these charity-book box subscriptions, and we collab a lot for T-shirt merch to go into her boxes. Kate’s a mom, a wife, and a boss-ass bitch that I constantly admire.
“How are the boys?” I ask, leaning on the counter to catch up.
She blows a strand of red hair out of her eyes. “They’re good. Playing all the damn sports and making it impossible for me to write. Oh, and Tucker broke his leg last week and is in a cast.”
“Oh my God!”
“I know.” She rolls her eyes. “We have to push him in a wheelchair everywhere. The other day at Target, he was so pumped because he got to use one of the electric wheelchairs. You’d have thought I took him to Disney World. And this isn’t even his first broken bone at the ripe old age of nine. Landon isn’t much better. Do you know how hard it is to write smut when your kid asks you to scratch his knee with a wooden spoon handle every other day?”
I let out a chuckle. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
She shakes her head and leans on the counter. “But enough about me. I was coming to check in on you. Your divorce is final now, right? How are you doing?” She gets a thoughtful look in her eyes as she reaches out to rub my arm affectionately.
“I’m great!” I beam and then flinch when I realize I actually mean it.
