A week later, Dave threw himself into one of the blindingly yellow booths at Delightful Doughnuts with a relieved sigh. His muscles ached from rescuing what must have been half the cats in Maplevale from trees all across the city. Scratches and splinters lay scattered across his hands in a stinging mess.
"Woof, you look like hell," Dylan said as they plopped a jumbo bag of Dunkers onto the table between them. "Hopefully these will be a nice pick me up. I asked Joaquin to give us a variety."
The Hispanic man standing behind the counter wiggled his eyebrows at Dave. "I made sure to give you lots of chocolate ones. They're an aphrodisiac."
Dylan blushed as Dave shot him a thumbs up. "As long as there isn't any hot sauce hiding in these, I'm good with whatever you pick."
"Speaking of hot sauce," Dylan said, "I still can't believe that jerk didn't get arrested for what he did, or at least get fired. I mean really, what kind of monster messes with somebody's doughnuts?"
"I know right?" Dave popped a chocolate Dunker into his mouth. "Trying to keep pests out of the trash, my foot. I heard they're at least going to make him do some community service though."
"Maybe he'll do us all a favor and throw himself into the trash," Joaquin muttered from behind the counter. "That pendejo treats everyone like they only exist to wait on him hand and foot."
Dave chuckled before asking, "Would you mind if I take a couple of the Dunkers to the station for Polka?"
"Aw, that little cutie likes doughnuts?" Dylan said, "You'd better not be feeding her chocolate, or else you're the one who's going to need to call 911 for a change."
"No worries, we always make sure they're safe for her before asking her to do a trick for one."
"Okay, now you've gotta show me what she does," Dylan said as they passed him a handful of Dunkers carefully bundled inside a wad of napkins. "That sounds too precious!"
The door swung open, letting a whoosh of warm air inside as Dave showed Dylan a video of Polka dancing for a peanut butter Dunker. Roger marched to the counter as if the fate of the country depended on him getting his weekly doughnuts. "Could you please put a little extra chocolate drizzle on these?" he asked after giving Joaquin his order.
"You bet," Joaquin said. He went off into the back to fulfill the request.
Dave narrowed his eyes as Polka took a bow that turned Dylan into a gushing mess. Roger was never that polite. Something was definitely up.
Roger leaned over the counter to make sure Joaquin was out of sight before slipping something inside the coffeemaker on the counter. He glanced over his shoulder and winked at Dave.
Dave handed Dylan his phone to keep them occupied with more videos of Polka prancing around the station as he mouthed, "What are you doing?"
Roger put a hand to his chest in mock offense.
Before Dave could interrogate Roger further, they were interrupted by Joaquin returning with a boxful of doughnuts that were literally dripping chocolate. "Since you asked so nicely, I gave you a couple extra squirts."
"Thanks!" Roger slipped a five-dollar bill into the tip jar before making his way to the exit. "After you," he said as he held the door open for Maria.
"I'll take half a dozen Boston cream doughnuts, please," she said as she fidgeted with the badge pinned to her chest.
"That'll cost you half of tonight's tamales," Joaquin said with a smirk.
"Oye, you know your doughnuts aren't worth that much!"
"Tell that to Dumpster Dave over there." He gestured in his direction. "With how much Dylan has been making goo-goo eyes at him, I'd say he's been getting the hot dude discount, and that's not just because he's a fireman."
Dylan's nervous laughter sent Dave's heart fluttering. Heat rushed to his face faster than it ever had on the job.
"You're embarrassing them!" Maria said. She smirked. "Maybe I'd better take my business to Dippin' Doughnuts instead."
Joaquin let out a gasp so loud Dave would have bet money on Polka perking her ears up all the way down at the station. "You wouldn't dare! They wouldn't know a doughnut from a bagel."
"Then get the doughnuts ready. I'd better get a small coffee to go with that, too."
Dave jolted upright mid-Dunker. "Don't drink the—!" he yelled as the partially chewed ball of fried dough and chocolate sauce lodged itself in his throat.
YOU ARE READING
Sirens and Sprinkles
HumorWhen Dave starts doing the weekly doughnut run for Maplevale's small team of firefighters, he expects his only problems to be his coworkers' latest pranks and which flavors of doughnut he should pick. Unfortunately for him, the most irritable police...