Chapter 25 Everett
EVERETT
Icatch Noah with a firm hand to his chest before he can bullet past me, stopping him in his tracks with the kind of authority that comes from years of keeping order in a courtroom—and occasionally keeping Noah from doing something stupid.
“I want Conner arrested.” I bite the air with the words because I’ve reached my limit with teenage boys and their wandering eyes.
“For what?” Noah inches back as Ivy catches up. Her red hair looks as if it could double as a siren.
Ivy glances between us with a hint of amusement. “Let me guess—Essex here is having a paternal meltdown about his daughter’s dating choices.”
I’ve never slept with Ivy, but she’s one of the few women who insists on calling me by my proper name despite the fact.
“I want him arrested for ogling my daughter all day,” I mutter, gesturing toward the lake where a group of teenagers in various states of undress are supposedly having innocent fun.
Ivy squints toward the water, then turns back to me with a smirk. “If your daughter is with that group of nearly naked girls, then I have news for you, Essex. Her boyfriend isn’t the only one ogling her.”
The growl that escapes me sounds more feral than judicial.
Noah shakes his head with the patience of a detective who’s dealt with overprotective fathers before. “I don’t like it either, but right now—”
He’s cut off as a platinum blonde approaches with a look on her face that lets us know she’s never met a situation she couldn’t make more complicated.
Jolene Johnson struts up in a micro pink bikini and a sun hat the size of a kiddie pool, looking like she’s trying way too hard to be someone’s Spring Break dream—despite being old enough to remember the ’70s.
“Well, well,” she purrs, batting eyelashes so hard I can feel the breeze.
“If it isn’t Honey Hollow’s finest law enforcement officers.
I don’t suppose you boys would be interested in donating a little piece of yourselves to a worthy cause?
” She winks suggestively. “Via a very big delivery system, no doubt because as fate would have it, I’m ovulating! ”
Both Noah and I groan in unison.
“Jolene,” Noah says with the tactful tone of someone defusing a biological weapon.
“I have a favor of my own to ask you, and I can probably speak for Everett with this one as well. Would you please help me out and ask Evie to cover up for a bit? We don’t want the big guy here dropping dead. He just had twins.”
I give an approving nod his way. I wouldn’t have thought to ask Jolene any such thing, mostly because the woman doesn’t know how to cover herself up. But if it works, hats off to Noah.
Jolene chuckles as she looks me up and down like I’m a prime cut of beef.
“Oh, hon, we all know you’re bound to drop dead sooner or later.
My baby girl told me that men and women alike drop dead at Lottie Lemon’s feet on the regular.
It’s exactly why I won’t get within three feet of the woman, and I’ve instructed Dashy to do the same. ”
Note to self: stay within three feet of Lemon at all times.
“Anyway,” she continues, adjusting her hat and nearly falling out of her bikini top in the process. “I’m a big believer in letting a woman wear however much or little she wants. It’s called bodily autonomy, sweetie.”
Knew it.
I pull out a hundred-dollar bill, wave it in front of her, and she snatches it faster than a bailiff collecting evidence.
I hold back the smile wanting to curve on my lips, because I also know exactly what makes most people tick.
“Make sure that girl is wrapped up like a Christmas present,” I tell her, my paternal instincts overriding any sense of fiscal responsibility.
Jolene grins as she tucks the bill into her bikini bottom. “Now you’re speaking my language, Your Honor.”
Noah does a double take to his left and, without warning, takes off toward the festival with the urgency of someone who’s just remembered he left the stove on.
“Where’s the fire?” I call out as Ivy and I follow in his wake.
Noah moves faster as he glances back at us. “Wherever Lottie Lemon is.”
And knowing my wife, that’s exactly where the next disaster is about to unfold.