“Really dig your dad, baby,” he murmured.
She cuddled closer. “I do too.”
He grinned at the ceiling, tracing random partners on the point of her shoulder.
“We need to arrange you to meet my folks,” he told her.
“I really wanna do that. Do you think they’d come here? My haul today included this pretty kickass table with these pale blue bucket chairs. I haven’t put it out on the floor because it’d fit perfect up here. And I need a dining room table. They could help me christen it.”
“They’d love that.”
“They can name the night, boyfriend. All my nights are for you anyway.”
Christ, he liked that.
So much, he rolled into her and took her in both of his arms in a way she knew how to read.
This meant she pressed into him and tipped her head back for his kiss.
When he finished with her mouth, he whispered, “I’m sorry your day sucked.”
“It happens.”
“Wanna fuck again?”
“Yes.”
He grinned at her.
Then he kissed her.
And after that, they fucked again.
Chapter Fifteen
I Try to Be
Jagger
“Got something I’ve been putting off talking to you about.”
It was the next morning after dinner with Archie’s folks. Jag was at her bar, sipping coffee and watching Archie make breakfast (eggs, cheese, sautéed mushrooms and taco sauce in a tortilla—it looked awesome, but he’d already learned his woman could cook).
“What?” he asked.
She didn’t answer his question and he had a feeling that wasn’t about the fact she was folding burritos.
“Babe?”
She looked from the food to him. “I’m going to watch that movie. The one about your Club.”
His gut fell like he was on a roller coaster.
“Are you still okay with that?” she asked.
“Sure,” he muttered.
“I just…wanted you to know,” she said, her gaze intent on him.
He nodded.
“I’ll watch it during the day sometime, so you don’t—”
“We can take a night off from each other.”
She stopped moving and her gaze got even more intent.
“Do you want to take a night off?” she asked.
“You said you have a sales assistant who’s on vacation so you’re short staffed.”
“To my dismay, we’re never covered in customers, Jagger. Lafayette has been on vacation, he’s coming back to work today, but I leave the floor all the time to Fabe and Joany. I did it yesterday to go out and search for stock.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Do you not want me to watch that movie?” she asked. “Tell the truth.”
“You’ve only met a couple of the men.”
“And?”
Christ.
What was his problem with this?
“I want you to meet Hound first,” he blurted, he had no idea why, it just came out.
“I can do that, baby,” she said softly.
“Cool,” he muttered.
“Now, we’ve been together a lot. Do you want some space?” she asked.
“No,” he said immediately, watching her closely. “Do you?”
“Not even a little bit. Been waiting a long time for you.”
Thank fuck.
She put his burrito in front of him with the bottle of taco sauce and stood opposite him with hers.
Once there, she said, “There’ll come a time, probably, when I’ll need my zone. Joany’s bitching about the fact we haven’t been out in a while. But I’m digging where we’re at, you and me. We’re not open on Sundays, as you know, and I left the store to them last Saturday, so I think I should hang here for this one. But I’d love to go for another ride on Sunday, or just get out of town, even if it’s to go to Evergreen or Morrison for lunch.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Cool.”
He forked into his burrito, took a bite, then poured more taco sauce on it.
“My man likes the spice,” she said.
He looked at her. “Yeah.”
She tipped her head to the side. “You okay?”
She was not going to watch that movie.
Not yet.
This meant he was okay, so he nodded.
“Okay,” she murmured, then forked into her own burrito.
“Don’t move that dining room table on your own,” he ordered. “I’ll get Dutch or one of the guys over and we’ll move it up here for you.”
She chewed her burrito, her eyes on him.
She then swallowed her bite and said to him, “You’re such a guy.”
“Well, yeah.”
“You know I move furniture, and shelves, and boxes around all the time. It’s part of my job,” she shared.
Dragging shit around her store was one thing.
Carrying it up some stairs was another.
To communicate that, he repeated, “Don’t move. That table. On your own. I’ll get a brother and we’ll move it up here for you.”
And that was when she grinned at him.
They did breakfast, he helped with cleanup and they made out at the door before he moved out and headed for home.
He needed to change clothes and get to the garage.
He did the first part of that, but on his way out to his bike, he stopped and texted his ma and Hound.
You guys free to have dinner at Archie’s? I want you to meet her and she said she’d like to cook for you.
He knew how much he was on his mother’s mind when her reply took about two minutes to chime in.
Absolutely! When?
You pick. Neither of us have anything on. He texted back.
Thursday? Friday? His mom replied before he’d even made it out to his bike.
Like I said, you pick. Neither of us have anything on. He returned.
But is Friday night a date night for you two? Would that be cramping your style? His mom shot back right before he fired up his bike.
And before he even got his thumbs again to his screen, another came in from her.
If so, we can do Thursday.
He was about to tell her he didn’t give a fuck—neither of them had anything on—when thankfully, Hound butted in.
Friday. And we’re getting a sitter.
The man speaks. His mother texted. Then sent, Which means the discussion is over.
No, I’m just sick of my phone fucking beeping with you rattling on when Jag says they don’t give a fuck which day we show. Hound declared.
I don’t rattle. His mother retorted.
Woman, you are in another room from me in the same house right now. Why are you texting? Hound asked.
To which his mother said, Love you, Jagger. See you Friday and can’t wait to meet Archie!
And that was the end of that.
Jagger started up his bike and headed to work.
But he did this smiling.
* * * *
The next day, in the afternoon, Jag sat at the soda fountain next to Mal.
Mal was showing him the difference between a chocolate shake made with chocolate ice cream and one made with vanilla and chocolate syrup.
Actually, he wasn’t. Archie had made the shakes.