Page 17 of Golden Touch
“Don’t they? Didn’t want to leave you out, but I was after some bonding time with the brew boys. Need them to trust me so they’ll answer all my questions.”
“Yeah, I get that.” I put the lid on the last serving of chili. “I don’t go out to bars, anyway. You’re visiting your dad tomorrow, right?”
“Right,” he says in a grudging voice. “I’m going to need you to go with me.”
“Me? Why?”
“Leila says he likes you.” He takes off his leather jacket, and I hate myself a little for admiring the shape of his body beneath a clinging waffle-weave shirt. “And I need him all calm and reasonable, two qualities he usually lacks whenever I’m around.”
Interesting. “All right. Remember that you need to bring him some samples.”
“I know. Gotta sneak those in. Do you have a big purse or something?”
“Sure. No problem.”
He gives me a hot smile. “Thanks. I’ll be upstairs, questioning all my life choices.” He turns toward the stairs. “And I’ll be up there all alone.” He stops, one hand on the banister. “Unless you had a mind to visit me.”
“I do not,” I say a little too quickly. “Not, uh, at this time.”
He actually laughs. “Let me know if you decide to fit me into your busy schedule. You know you want to.”
Heat climbs up my neck, because he’s right. My attraction to him burns brightly. But it was a bad idea back in November, and it’s a much worse idea now. “I’ll keep you in mind.”
“You do that, pussycat.” He climbs the stairs, still smiling. “Nightie night.”
Not two minutes later, I hear the song “Call Me Maybe” playing upstairs. Loudly.
And I have to laugh as I put my chili away. I’m a sucker for a man with a sense of humor.
His music gets quiet after that, and I hear the sound of the upstairs shower running.
As I settle myself in for the night, I try not to picture water sluicing down his inked body. And I try not to wonder what he looks like wearing nothing but a towel.
I get into bed and check social media. Some women use Instagram to follow celebrities. I use it to keep tabs on a motorcycle club that’s trying to kill me. Two of the members’ girlfriends post a lot of pictures, and every time I see my ex in one of them, I feel nauseated.
But it’s useful information. Tonight, I copy the links to some photos and share them with Jennie.
Do any of these guys look like the scary dude who came to your house?
If someone is hunting me, I’d like to know who.
Then I text my brother to feel out whether he’s had any violent visitors to the front porch of the house he shares with some other guys in Winooski.
Hey Brady. Everything good with you this week?
He replies immediately. And when I read what he says, I roll my eyes.
Brady
I could use $100. I’m out of groceries.
Hell. That’s what I get for vague-texting.
Something happen to your paycheck?
I quit the grocery store. Manager was an asshole. I don’t have time for that kind of negativity in my life.
My brother, ladies and gentlemen. Too good for this world. Or at least too good to work in it.
