Because he usually did it when he didn’t know what he was talking about.
“She’s not rando,” Jag bit out.
“So you’re seeing some woman who you’ve never mentioned to anyone and she’s important enough to bring to a family dinner?”
“I met her the day her mother was put into the ground. It was a day I was visiting Dad’s grave. And that day was my sixteenth birthday.”
That shut Dutch up.
Jag kept talking.
“I haven’t said anything because we haven’t pulled our shit together. Now, we’re pulling our shit together. She wanted to have dinner tonight. I told her I had plans, told her about Carolyn and she wanted to be there. So she’s gonna be there.”
There was stuff he left out and Dutch didn’t miss it.
“You’ve been seeing someone for over ten years and I’ve never heard of her?”
“It’s a long story,” Jagger replied. “But bottom line for you is, this isn’t about Carolyn. You want this not to be weird for Georgie. And you want what Georgie wants. Family sitting down together and breaking bread and you want it to go well for her. Now, the bottom line for me is, you and Georgie are going the distance and I’m eventually gonna end up with someone and Carolyn is gonna see that and she’s gonna have to move on with her own life. If she’s not ready to do that, then I should not have been invited to this dinner.”
“I’m still not feeling the fact you’ve known some woman who clearly means something to you for ten years and I’ve never heard her name.”
“How ’bout you let me have my shit, and I’ll let you in on it when I’m ready, like you have your shit, and I hang tight and wait for you to let me in on it, if you’re ever ready to let me in on it.”
“When have I had shit that isn’t yours?” Dutch demanded.
Was he for real?
“Uh…Carlyle. And you and Georgie investigating his dad’s murder,” Jag returned. “And, say, you and Georgie being hot and heavy at all and we only found out because we showed at your house as a surprise and she showed at your house and it was a surprise to us, but it absolutely was not to you.”
“Fuck,” Dutch muttered.
“Unh-hunh,” Jag returned.
“That was going on days, not a decade, Jag,” Dutch shot back.
Okay, he was done talking about this.
“Listen, there’s something between me and Archie and there’s something Archie is dealing with and something I’m dealing with and it’s ours. Just lay off. And be cool with her when she comes over. Or if you can’t be cool with her, and me, tell me now and we just won’t come over.”
“What are you dealing with?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Did you not hear me when I was talking about shit that was mine and I’ll let you in on it when I’m ready?”
Dutch went silent again.
“So, Archie and me good to come over tonight, or not?” Jag pushed.
It took a second before Dutch spoke again.
“I’m always there for you, man, you know that, don’t you?”
Jag felt that in his throat.
So much, something he was not allowing himself to lock onto, he locked onto.
He was dealing with some shit.
Some major shit.
And Archie triggered it.
“I know,” he said to Dutch.
But that was all he could say.
For now.
“You’re always welcome, Jag. Look forward to meeting Archie. And it’ll be cool,” Dutch assured.
“Thanks, brother.”
“See you in a while,” Dutch said.
“Yeah. Later.”
“Later.”
They disconnected and Jagger took in a big breath, because he didn’t know what was up with him, he didn’t know if he wanted to know what was up with him.
But he had a feeling whatever it was, it was about to come out.
* * * *
Before he left her at her shop, Archie told him that the way to her place was the door to the side of the store.
So when he showed at six thirty, he went there.
There was a call box with four buttons, and Jag guessed the one that had a picture of Grace Jones next to it was Archie’s.
In other words, he was grinning when he hit the button.
There was a speaker on top of the call unit, and through it came Archie’s voice.
“I’m door number two, brother.”
And then the door buzzed.
He opened it and it was heavy, no window, steel enforced, which was good, considering it was on Colfax.
He went in and was in the outer vestibule that was cut off from the inner by a code-lock door.
He saw color-block floors in big squares of white, black, gray and yellow, and the mailboxes were there, built into the wall. Four across, tall, but narrow with a large USPS lockbox underneath for the postman to lock bigger packages.
His phone buzzed with a text that was from Archie.
9768, it said.
The code for the inner vestibule door.
He punched it in, the lock clicked, and he moved beyond the second secure area, seeing more color-block flooring, an orange tub with some umbrellas sticking out of it, and under the stairs was caged storage that had a couple of bikes locked behind it.
The walls were white, as were the stairs. The treads black. So were the doors.
And there was an all-weather mat that said Hola on his side, and upside down on top of that (so if he was coming from the other direction), it read Sayonara.
The area was clean. It was nice. It was stylin’.
It was Archie.
He jogged up the steps and found himself in a hall that led down the middle of the building.
Her door was to the back of the building, on the left.
He barely knocked before it was opened.
And then he was knocked out.
Archie had on a Chinese embroidered, pink miniskirt and a creamy blouse that had a high neck and ruffles down the front, no sleeves. There was a hidden slit coming down from the throat that he knew, with movement, would hint at the goodness underneath. Rounding this out were her vibrant green pumps.
Her makeup was dark and smoky around her eyes, just the top of her hair was pulled back in a spiky mess at the back of her head.
And she smelled like Archie.
He’d changed into a dark blue button down and nicer jeans.
And before he could tell her how gorgeous she was, her fist was in his shirt, she’d hauled him in, slammed the door, lifted her other hand, caught him by the back of his head, and pulled his mouth down to hers.
Her lips were soft and cushiony, but he didn’t get to enjoy them long before her tongue spiked into his mouth and took all of his attention.
Fucking fuck.
She tasted as dark and smoky as her eyes and he liked that taste so much, he couldn’t stop himself from rotating her, shoving up against her at the door, going for her ass with one hand and bunching her hair against the back of her head in the other to give himself something while he let her have her way with his mouth.
She broke their kiss by sliding her tongue out and nipping his lower lip with her teeth, so he lifted his head and stared up close into her gorgeous eyes.
“Hey,” she said.
The word was kinda breathy, but mostly it was just cool, confident and Archie.