I give him a few slaps on the back. “You’ll be okay, man. Don’t take the loss too hard.”
He gives me a look. “Why are you smiling? You’re wearing an ankle monitor. We both lost.”
Thayden kicks at my ankle, which has indeed now been outfitted with a court-ordered tracking device of sorts. One that will confine me to Sheet Cake indefinitely. It also doesn’t work with cowboy boots, which is the thing I’m most upset about. I don’t mind being confined to this town. Actually, it couldn’t be more perfect. Except for the fact that I don’t have a place to stay. Or my truck. Or shoes. I’m also still covered in dried mud, which is causing chafing in several areas I’d rather not discuss.
“At least I wasn’t slapped with a fine for being in contempt of court,” I shoot back.
Thayden groans, shaking his head and muttering about small town judges.
“How’d you fare with Sheet Cake justice?” a voice calls.
We turn to see Chevy ambling toward us in street clothes, a wide smile on his face. Clearly, he’s already heard the outcome.
I wiggle my ankle. “Is this y’all’s way of inducting me as an official Sheeter?”
Chevy chuckles. “Hardly.”
Thayden glances between us. “Well, fellas, it’s been lovely. But I’m headed home.”
“Hey—what am I paying you for? At least drive me to a hotel or to get some clean clothes and shoes.”
Thayden raises his eyebrows. “You really want to pay my hourly rate to take you shopping?”
“Never mind.”
“That’s what I thought,” Thayden says, then grins. “Plus, you’ve got a new friend! I’m sure Chevy here could be persuaded to take you. You might want to apologize for punching him first.”
I look over at Chevy, otherwise known as the deputy I inadvertently assaulted and the reason I’m currently wearing a police-issued anklet. Chevy winks.
“Rrrrright.” I clear my throat. “I’m sorry for hitting you, Chevy. I meant to hit the other guy.”
He laughs. “You could have a future writing greeting cards. Best apology ever.”
“Well done,” Thayden says. “And good luck winning back your girl!” With that, he jogs off toward his car, leaving me with Chevy, whose eyes have narrowed considerably.
“Is your fancy lawyer talking about Lindy?”
I lean over to scratch my ankle. Dang if this thing isn’t going to drive me up a wall. “Uh.”
Chevy crosses his arms, and I stand back up to my full height so we’re eye-to-eye. “What’s that he said about you winning her back?”
I’m debating which answer is less likely to get me arrested again when Chevy’s arm moves toward me. I flinch, then giggle. You know, like a real man does when faced with danger. Chevy barks out a laugh, and I realize he’s holding out his hand for me to shake.
“What’s this for?” I ask, clasping his hand. He squeezes uncomfortably tight, so I do the same until we’re both gritting our teeth.
“We’re shaking on a gentleman’s agreement,” Chevy says.
“What’s the agreement?”
“We agree that if you hurt Lindy again, I will use everything in my power to make you suffer for as long as we both shall live.”
I drop his hand, shaking mine out. He does the same. “That sounds a little like a wedding vow, Officer Chevy.”
“And like a wedding vow, it’s for life. Now, come on.” Chevy starts off down the sidewalk at a good clip.