Free Blissful Valentine: A Novella by Amy L. Gale Page A

be no guarantees of finding the right one after hours of drinking. Dean and I work together with our cuffed hand and clip the handcuffs onto Lexie and Tom.
    “Thanks, sheriff.” Lexie winks at me.
    “My job is to uphold justice, ma’am.” I wave as she and Tom walk away into the kitchen.
    We go through the entire bucket of names and handcuff everyone together. Ah, Tanya Layton. I hand the slip of paper to Dean and lean over to see who her man is for the night. I scan the letters written in black ink. Huh, Randy Andrews. Good luck dealing with the ten gallons of cologne he uses to cover the smell of pot clinging to every article of clothing he wears. A sinister smile graces my face.
    “Your sentence lasts until 2 a.m. Beer Pong tournament in an hour.” He drops the megaphone and tugs at our cuffs. He moves his wrist around the cuff and holds my hand. “Want a drink?”
    I tilt my head and look up at him. “Hell no.”
    He walks around the table, guiding me with him. “Don’t worry, your wingman has you covered.” We walk along the dingy green carpet, swaying between the crowd of cuffed couples to the kitchen. He pulls open the refrigerator door and hands me a can of diet cola.
    I take the cool can and lean in closer to Dean. “Super Dean to the rescue.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek.
    His cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. “All in a day’s work.”
    He grabs a plastic cup and we make our way to the keg. I set down my soda and push the button on the tap. This whole party is almost a weird experiment on teamwork in a social setting. Someone should write their thesis on handcuff parties.
    We take our drinks and head to the study off the kitchen where he saved me from a drunken loser the first time we met. We plop down on an empty space of the burgundy couch. I sink into the cushion and peruse the Ping-Pong table set up with small white balls and a multitude of red plastic cups. Guess the tournament takes place here.
    Dean sips his beer. “Best sheriff in all of Lakeview.”
    I chuckle. “All in a day’s work. ” I sip my diet cola and set the can on small table next to me.
    Dean plucks his sunglasses off his head and tosses them on the table. “Everyone may try to escape when Tom starts the speeches.”
    “Huh? There’s speeches at these parties?” I rub my chin.
    “Sad but true. Tom has to give this speech on how Beta Omega coined the term handcuff party. He’s in charge until our Prez, Jesse, gets back next semester.” He reaches for his beer and takes a sip. “It’s all bullshit. Every fraternity says they created beer pong, and toga parties, and handcuff parties.”
    Great. Maybe this is why they don’t serve non-alcoholic drinks at these parties. “I could always call in and say you kidnapped me.”
    “Not sure the scholarship board will like that one.”
    I look down at the rough scabs on his knuckles. My stomach hardens. The scholarship committee probably wouldn’t be too thrilled with Dean getting into bar fights either. Thank god no one pressed charges. Ugh, what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there? My chest tightens. I still can’t believe he risked getting kicked off the team for me. Looks like I’ll have to get extremely creative to make it up to him.
    “Did you always love baseball?”
    He grabs his cup of beer. “Ever since I could walk. Plus there’s not a hell of a lot to do in Iowa, mostly farms.”
    Yeah, I know the feeling. “There’s got to be some excitement.”
    He shrugs. “John Wayne was from Iowa.” He lowers his eyes and purses his lips. “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”
    I let out a short burst of laughter, almost spitting on Dean. “You sure acting isn’t your calling?”
    “Ever notice my close shave?”
    Just about every time I look at you. “Yeah.”
    He raises his eyebrows. “In Iowa, it’s illegal for a mustached man to kiss a woman in public.” He raises his right hand. “Hand to god.”
    I laugh and sip my diet