I’m Della freaking Munroe, and I’m baaaaack.

“Have you given her a name?”

A name? Della blinked. She didn’t know anyone who named their car. “Umm…no. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well you should. A car with flames down the side demands to be named.”

Della concurred. “I can hear Arlo rolling his eyes already.”

“Even more reason to do it.”

Laughing at the faux-innocent expression on Winona’s face, Della asked, “Does yours have a name?”

“Sure does.” Winona’s lips twitched. “Scarlet.”

Of course. Della couldn’t have picked a more suitable name for Winona’s deep-cherry-red Jeep. Suddenly, a name came to her. “Jolene,” she said, saying it out loud, trying it on for size.

It might have seemed a strange choice—the other woman. But Della had always felt a little sorry for the much-maligned Jolene. And hell if it didn’t make a statement. Della was stepping out. Like Jolene. A woman who had gone after what she’d wanted.

“I love it.” Winona held her palm up, and they high-fived. “Okay, where are we taking her on her maiden voyage?”

“Oh. Is that a thing?”

Winona nodded vigorously. “First chance you get, you gotta take her on a bit of a trip somewhere special. For a start, you need to let her out, see how she handles, right? But then you’ve got to mark the occasion. Make it an event you can tell your grandkids about. Life can be pretty dull and mundane most of the time. It’s important to celebrate milestones.”

Della nodded slowly, an idea forming in mind. “Okay…”

“Oooh…” Winona quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve got it, haven’t you?”

Della shifted in her chair. “Would you…come to Frieda’s with me?” Who better to visit a sex shop with than a woman who wrote sex scenes for a living?

Winona didn’t bat an eyelid. “Well, hell, yeah.” She slapped her palm down on the table. “Now we’re talking. It’s definitely memorable.”

“Yup.”

“Probably spare the grandkiddies the story, though.”

Della laughed, her heart beating weirdly fast. “Gotcha.”

Winona nodded. “It’s a date.”

Yeah. A date with a dildo. She couldn’t wait.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

A pang of nervous excitement jitterbugged in Della’s stomach as they pulled up at Frieda’s lunchtime Thursday. She couldn’t believe she was about to visit a sex shop.

At lunchtime. On a Thursday.

She wasn’t sure what was a more appropriate time to be visiting a place that sold sexual paraphernalia, but late, late at night seemed more fitting. Or Sunday morning, maybe when every other person in eastern Colorado was in church and not around to witness any scandalous purchases.

“It really is god-awful, isn’t it?” Rosemary said as she exited the vehicle and looked up at the giant gyrating condom doing its little turn atop Frieda’s roof.