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CHAPTER 157

Lincoln

We decide on dinner first. I need to eat to keep up my stamina. We hit a small Italian place a few miles away. I drive my lifted truck. Shelby’s in a short pink skirt with a white girly blouse, a cowboy hat, and pink cowboy boots. The ever-present scarf is knotted around her neck. How she stands it in this heat is beyond me. I help her step up on the side-runner and admire the flash of pink panties as she adjusts herself in the seat.

“I wore them for you,” she says.

“Nice to know. Hope you don’t mind if I take them off as soon as we get home.”

“A man of action, I like that.”

“You’ll like it more later,” I come back with.

Our sexual banter continues through dinner and the wood I’m sporting below the table would be embarrassing without the checkered tablecloth hiding it. Even nicer than the sexual overtones of the evening is not thinking about work. As a detective, it’s a rare luxury.

The drive home is mostly quiet. I think we’re at our max for verbal foreplay. I turn into my dr
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