Page 22 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
I stare at Grant and his smug grin and 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 sure as hell will 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 one 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 phar-pharmacy—”
“Emers—”
“The urologist already called it in.” I cut Grant off again, smile sweetly at the clerk, and point to the phone. “So just get 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 bitch 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 asks and looks at Grant with wide eyes.
“Yes.” Grant smiles.
“Associate, please make that an extra-large box of tampons.” Brian hangs the phone up and is about to turn his back when I speak.
“Brian, one more thing.”
“You’re joking right?” he asks exasperated.
