Cuffed

EIGHT - 2

"It's an emergency." His voice booms over the PA system and draws the eyes of some of the customers waiting at the photo counter.

"Thank you." Grant flashes a huge grin his way "Oh, wait. What brand do you like, Emerson?"

"You're joking, right?" I sputter.

"Only if you're joking." He lifts his eyebrows as he throws down the gauntlet to see if I'm going to come clean or keep lying. The problem is that I think if I don't continue, he might really haul me off to jail to prove a point. "I don't think generic will do for such a dire situation. Brand?"

"Tampax," I say defiantly.

"Tampax," he relays to the clerk, whose cheeks are burning brighter with each second that passes. When the clerk continues to stare at Grant as if he's crazy, which I'm beginning to think he is, Grant points to the phone in his hand. "Go on. Let them know so they don't bring the wrong one, and then we have to start this whole process all over again."

The clerk goes to protest and then realizes that it's in his best interest to relay the message. "To the associate in the, er, woman's aisle, please make it Tampax."

I stare at Grant and his smug grin, and I know there is no way I'm going to let him get away with this. Funny thing is, I'm a woman. Tampons don't embarrass me... but I know something that will sure as hell embarrass him.

"Are you still having that problem?" I loudly ask Grant, getting the blank look from him, I was banking on.

"Problem?"

"Yes. You know..." I cringe and give him a sympathetic look before turning to the clerk. "While your associate is at it, can they grab one more thing for Officer Malone?"

The clerk's eyes widen. "Can't he go and get it himself?"

"No, he can't. He has a suspect in the car, and department policy says he can't be more than a hundred feet away from him at all times." I push Grant back as he tries to step forward and interrupt. "Please?"

"Yeah. Sure." The clerk looks at Grant and then back to me, uncertain how he became the ball in our ping-pong match.

"He needs his Viagra."

"Viagra?" The clerk's voice is suddenly soprano.

"Emers-"

"Don't be embarrassed, Grant. A lot of guys have trouble getting it up." I pat Grant's arm and return the smug smile as the muscle in his jaw clenches.

"Em," he warns.

"Viagra," I reiterate to the clerk, ignoring the hand Grant squeezes on my bicep. "He's really embarrassed. I mean I wore lacy lingerie, high heels... everything, and he still couldn't get hard."

If the clerk's cheeks could get any redder, they would. "Th-that's a prescription. The pharmacy-"

"Emers-"

"The urologist has already called it in." I cut Grant off again, smile sweetly at the clerk, and point to the phone. "So just get them on the PA and tell the pharmacy that you need the prescription of Viagra for Grant Malone to be brought up to the front."

Grant's hand tenses, and I swear I hear him mutter son of a b***h as the clerk stares at me as if I've lost my mind. I nod in encouragement to him.

He picks up the phone and keeps his eyes on mine the whole time he speaks on the PA system. "Uh pharmacy, I need the prescription of Viagra to be brought up to the front."

"For Grant Malone," I say.

"The Viagra is under the name Grant Malone." His voice booms overhead.

Snickers of laughter from somewhere in the store echo up to us. The teenagers in line shift their feet and try to hide their smiles. The older lady standing at the Hallmark cards glances my way and then shakes her head in sympathy. I can only wonder if the sympathy is because I'm having a period emergency while wearing white shorts or because my assumed boyfriend can't get it up.

"Nice try, Malone, but I think I won this round," I mutter under my breath.

"Excuse me, Brian, is it?" Grant says to the clerk after looking at his nametag.

"Yes."

"Can you tell your associate that Emerson here needs the largest box of tampons you have?"

"The extra-large size box on the tampons?" he says, and looks at Grant with wide eyes.

"Yes." Grant smiles.

"Associate, please make that an extra-large box of tampons." Brian hangs up the phone and is about to turn his back when I speak.

"Brian, one more thing."

"You're joking, right?" he asks, exasperated.

"No, it's important. Pretty please?" I turn on my charm and bat my lashes.

"What?"

"Viagra. Could you make sure it's extra strength?"

Poor Brian looks at Grant and then back to me for what seems like the tenth time. "You two are crazy. I don't want to be in the middle of your weird fight. Use the PA yourself if you need anything else." He holds the phone out to me. I'm more than tempted to make my request but figure we've caused enough of a scene, and by all accounts, I think I won this round.

"Thank you for your assistance, Brian, but we're good now," Grant says as he eases his grip on my arm and slides his hand down to the small of my back. I step away from him with the low hum of his chuckle in my ears.

Asshole.

The awkward tension only builds between us as the seconds tick by. Grant chats amicably with the cashier about how nice the weather is, while the poor kid fidgets restlessly and refuses to meet his gaze. I glance around the store, waiting impatiently for the associate to bring the Tampax to the counter and wonder what is going to happen to my Viagra request.

Finally, the associate makes her way down the main aisle with the familiar blue and green box and holds it up to the male clerk. "Is this what you were looking for?"

Poor Brian blushes a darker red as Grant steps forward and takes the box from the associate. "Thank you, Eileen. You're looking wonderful as always," Grant says, prompting her to pat down her mass of gray curls. "How are the grandbabies? Is little Brett still as rambunctious as ever?"

Impatient to get the hell out of here, I force myself to watch the exchange between the two. Grant is holding the box of tampons in his hand, casual as can be, which is both surprising and unnerving. Not only am I privy to his personable skills with the nice lady who works at CVS, but also im in the position to notice how perfectly well Grant's uniform pants hug his ass.

And what a mighty fine ass it is.

Stop it. Here he is dragging me through this stupid charade, and instead of being mad at him, I'm checking out his ass? Again.

But it's not just his ass. I'm also admiring the way his uniform sleeves hug his biceps and how broad his shoulders are.

But this is Grant Malone. He's the little boy I used to giggle with and play cops and robbers in his front lawn. He was like the brother I never had... so how is it possibly okay to find him this attractive?

It isn't.

That's the plain and simple answer. I can't find him attractive. I can like him, but he's off limits. He knows too much. Him just being here reminds me of before too much.

He's too close when I've never allowed anyone to be.

I can be mad at him. I can be pissed as hell that a little while ago he was threatening to haul me off to jail because I was a smidgen over the speed limit. I can also be livid that he called my bluff.

That's all I can be.

Oh, and I can be damn proud that I just met him tit-for-tat with his little plan to embarrass me.

"Right, Em?' His gravelly voice cuts through my thoughts-of him.

"Right, what?" I must look like a deer caught in headlights, and Eileen just smiles softly.

"He's such a good boy, isn't he?" Eileen says as she pats my arm.

I smile with so much saccharine that my teeth are going to rot. "He is."

And then she steps into Grant and lowers her voice. "No need to be embarrassed, dear. Having trouble getting an erection can sometimes be caused by stress." She pats his arm much like she did mine. "Try some good old-fashioned pornography. I may have experience in knowing it does the trick." She winks and gives a knowing smile that leaves me biting back my snicker before she walks off as if she didn't just talk about porn.

Way to go, Eileen!

Grant blushes for the first time during this whole charade and blinks as if he's trying to make sure he actually heard her say what she said. I take his stunned silence and use it to my advantage by pushing a ten-dollar bill across the counter to Brian. The poor kid is standing there trying to act like he didn't hear the exchange when he clearly did.

"I got it," Grant says with authority, taking my money off the counter and shoving it back in my hand.

"I can pay for my own-"

"No one said you couldn't." His lips quirk into a cocky smile, a clear indication he's regained his footing. "But it's the least I could do to help out with your... situation."

"Apparently, porn is what will help you with yours," I say nonchalantly, needing to get one last cheap shot in, before I turn and walk outside to wait for him in the fading daylight.

Within minutes, Grant strolls out of the drugstore with a bag in his hand and stops before me. We stare at each other for a moment.

"Viagra, Emerson? Really?" he asks, disdain owning his tone.

"I can go back in and wait for your prescription, if you'd like?" I bat my lashes.

"Cute. Very cute."

"You're not the only one who can dish it out."

"So it seems."

A new set of looky-loos slow their pace as they walk by, curious what crime I committed, and despite my little show inside, I'm not a fan of being the center of attention.

"Are we done now?" I huff as I hold my hand out for the bag.

We wage a visual war on the sidewalk in front of CVS. The lights on his squad car are still flashing and lighting up his face as he looks down at my hand and then back to me. "You tell me, Emerson. Are we done yet?"

"It's just a box of tampons."

"Oh, this is about so much more than just a box of tampons," he says, voice serious, eyes locked on mine. We stare at each other for a minute more, both of us wondering who will give in first. My wanting to believe the lie, I tell myself that this is only about feminine hygiene products, against his waiting for me to realize I'm wrong.

"May I have the bag, please?"

"Of course you can, so long as we get one thing clear." He steps closer to me and leans in. "Nothing's changed, Em. Don't you remember? I can always tell when someone is lying. Especially you. That's one thing about me that's still the same, so it's best you don't forget that. Otherwise, next time will be a lot worse than a box of tampons you don't need."

I grit my teeth as he leans back, those brown eyes of his laden with humor as he places the bag in my hand. "Is that a threat, Officer?"

"No. It's a promise."