“There’s no need to apologize,” I tell her. “Like I said, I love your appetite, sweetheart. And besides, it reminds me of when you were up on stage at the Krazy Kat with a slice of pizza in your hand still. You’ve got your priorities in the right place.”
She’s blushing, but manages to shoot me a small smile. Then, Rachel reaches for another slice and eats it more slowly, chewing contemplatively. “You know,” she says, “I’ve always been a bigger girl, even when I was little. Back then, it was cute to have chubby cheeks and dimpled knees, but you know that’s not what the media holds up as the “ideal” body type. So I’ve always been self-conscious about my figure.”
I cock my head at her. “Yes, but you’re beautiful honey. Who gives a fuck what the media says?”
She sighs, looking down at the laminate table. “Not to be crass, but it’s not exactly easy to have a little junk in the trunk when magazines and social media only feature women who are tall, blonde, and stick thin. I sometimes feel like there’s no place in the world for me.”
I shake my head emphatically. “Who gives a shit about what’s on a magazine cover? You know those things are all air-brushed within an inch of their lives. I love your figure, and if I’m being honest, Rachel, I think you’d look even better if you put on twenty pounds because there’d be more of you to savor. I can’t wait to get my mouth on you, sweetheart,” I say, and then pause. Shit, did I go too far?
But instead, my girl glows with pleasure. “Damon, have you gone back to using my real name? I like when you called me ‘bunny.’ You should do that more.”
I grin. “Sure thing, bun. But I mean it. Eat more of this and put on some weight because I want to see it on you. I want your breasts to get bigger and those hips wider.” And your stomach to swell with my baby, a voice inside whispers. What the fuck? Where the hell did that come from? Now I’m the one whose face heats up, although Rachel has no idea what it’s about. But it’s true. I can see the lovely woman growing heavy with a baby in her tummy, and I’d love to be the man to put that child in her.
Meanwhile, Rachel giggles again while nibbling on another slice of pizza. I grab a slice myself and let that keep my mouth busy for a while. God knows what I’d say at this juncture. Probably something caveman and ultra-possessive, which could very well scare her off.
But Rachel merely takes a swig of her beer, eyeing me playfully.
“Tell me more about you,” she says, setting the bottle down. “So where was the manager of the Krazy Kat that night? Why were you handling his job for him?”
I swallow, and shake my head. “Tim’s the manager of the club, but yeah, I was just filling in for him. He was off that night, and I guess being the head of security sometimes makes you a jack of all trades.”
She smiles. “Do you like being the big bad security guy?”
I chuckle while taking another swig of beer.
“Yeah, it works. I was actually a cop for a long time, so it’s all in the same line of business. I walked a beat in Detroit, actually.”
She nods with understanding.
“So that’s why you’re so interested in Detroit pizza.”
I wink at her and take another sip of the lager. It’s cold and smooth, and flows down my throat. “I liked being a cop, but I left because frankly, working in the private sector pays better. The public sector has its benefits, but money is definitely not one of the pros.”
Rachel nods.
“I get it. After I become a physical therapist, we can choose to work in public or private hospitals. It’s the same work, but the pay disparity between them is humongous. Like huge, huge, huge enormous.”
I shake my head ruefully.
“The government really needs to get its act together, but I guess it’s up to the taxpayers.”
Rachel nods thoughtfully. “True, and we’re all paying taxes, so I suppose we could try to lobby someone about this.”
I stare at the beautiful woman. I had no idea I’d be having a conversation about taxes, politics, and the health care system with the buxom brunette, but the dialogue intrigues me. Clearly, Rachel’s smart as well as gorgeous.
“Do you ever miss your old friends?” she asks, cocking her head at me. I take a while before answering.
“Yeah,” I say slowly, rolling my beer bottle between my hands. “You become brothers with the other guys on the force, but here in Wyoming, I’m closer to family, so it’s not all bad. And the guys at the Krazy Kat are good too. Not as close as my buddies in uniform, but there’s some camaraderie still.”