Logan’s shoulders rose up, held, and then lowered.
B10 was called out.
Logan began looking over his cards, placing tokens on two of them. “Oh, my God. I’m actually playing bingo. What is it you wanted to talk to me about, Allen?” His eyebrows shot up. “And if you called me here to play bingo with you, I will put you on the holiday blacklist because you and I both know you’re hoping to get an invite to Christmas.”
“You have a point, but…” Zeke stood up, and reverted to his almost giggling self. “One second. I’ll be right back.”
Logan frowned before saying, “He’s like a lovable gnat, and no offense because his crush on my brother sometimes alarms both Mason and me.”
I sat up straighter. “No offense back to you, but do you actually know him?”
He got quiet but held my gaze.
I added, “He could’ve gone down a much different path. That’s how he was growing up and he changed himself, decided he wanted better mentors. He did that. No one else.”
Logan cocked his head to the side. “I heard he got a nice push from his best friend and his father.”
“And your brother. You talk about him like he’s a fanboy. You’re wrong. He chose Mason to look up to, to help him into being a better guy. The idea of your brother, but he’s the one who made that decision to look for a guide. He’s the one who latched onto Blaise. He’s the one who didn’t get pissed off when his dad did what he did. The way I heard it, Zeke lapped it up and he used that to make himself a better person. Takes some intelligence and discipline to make the decision and then follow through with it.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” A different look edged into his gaze. “Other guys like Zeke might’ve gone a different way.” Those eyes were suddenly all-seeing, and I saw the sharp intelligence in them, a ruthlessness there that gave all those stories told about him some credibility. “Just as long as he treats you right.”
I frowned.
Logan smirked. “Heather loves you. Adores you. And because she does, so do we. You just didn’t know that part.”
My frown deepened. Zeke had made reference to something like this. I knew about Heather, Brandon, my other bosses, but to hear those words being said from Logan Kade? Who I knew, but I had no idea he knew who I was.
I couldn’t react. I didn’t know how.
Logan laughed a little. “Heather said you’re kinda clueless about how much you’re cared about. See she’s right.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“You’ve been serving me food and drinks since you were fifteen.” He leaned forward, his voice gentling again. “You’re seen. And if Zeke wasn’t attached to you, I wouldn’t have taken him on as a client.”
I snorted at that. “I know that’s not true.”
He looked ready to argue.
I got there first. “It’s Zeke. He would’ve hounded you, and you know it.”
He growled. “I don’t like to think I would’ve given in under said houndage.”
Now my grin gentled. “It’s Zeke.”
He nodded, giving in. “You’re right, and–oh my fucking–” He shot up from his seat and pointed. “Take that out of here. Now. I don’t want to see that.”
Zeke was carrying a six-foot cardboard cutout of Mason Kade in his NFL football uniform, a football tucked under his arm. He had his helmet on and was staring hard at the camera. Zeke positioned it at the end of our table, and I was now understanding why he insisted on getting seats at the edge. His chest was puffed up as he took his seat.
“I mean it, Allen. I’m not going to play bingo with you staring at my brother’s cardboard cutout.”
“G,15.”
Zeke was still laughing, but he saw he had G,15. He motioned to Logan’s cards. “You better look to see if you have it because they’re not going to call it again.”
Logan was glaring at him, still standing.
“I,7.”
Zeke covered his. “Oh!”
Logan groaned but was eyeing the cards before him and cursing. He scrambled to cover two more of his cards. “Shit. I almost have a bingo.”
We kept playing, and Logan did in fact get a bingo. He also kept asking Zeke to remove his brother’s cardboard cutout, but Zeke just ignored him every time. When they announced we needed new cards, it was an hour later. Zeke had taken to holding my hand under the table, and Logan was the one who got up to get us all new cards. His phone kept ringing while we were there, so Nate Monson, another from that group, was going to join us. When Logan was gone, I leaned over. “What’s with the cutout?”
Zeke grinned, his finger rubbing over the inside of my palm. “Consider it my good-luck charm.”
I shot him a look. “Zeke.”
He laughed again. “Don’t give it away, but I actually ordered two. The other one is inside of Logan’s Escalade. He’ll find out when he leaves.” Kade came back after, and Monson was with him. Both sat down, and we played for another two hours.
Zeke never had anything to talk to Logan about. He was told he was in town and made the call, but it was when we were heading home that I brought it up. “You owe me another date night. That didn’t count.”
He was holding my hand – he always reached for me when he could – and he lifted our hands to kiss the back of mine. “I know. You pick the date tomorrow night.”
“I work the closing shift at Manny’s tomorrow.”
“We can do something after or the next night you have free? I’m easy either way.”
He was. We did midnight golfing the next night.
It was another night after Manny’s when I walked into the house and saw a giant bouquet of dandelions on the counter alongside a cardboard cutout of myself.
“Zeke!”
He came in from the hallway, holding a box in his hands. “You like them?”
I pointed at myself. “What the–”
“Oh yeah. That.”
“Yes! That. What is that doing here?”
He went over and put his arm around it, smiling wide at me. “I only get cutouts of the people I look up to.” He was teasing, but then he got serious. His eyes got dark, and he came toward me. “Jokes aside, you’re the only cardboard cutout I want in my life.”
“What happened to the Mason Kade one?”
He shrugged. “The bingo people asked if I’d leave it with them.”
I started laughing, and kept laughing even as he lifted his hands, cupping the side of my face. “Like a mascot?”
“Probably.” His thumbs swept over my cheeks, and I noticed the box he was still holding. It was cupped into his palm, resting against my face.
“What is this?”
He was suddenly really serious.
My heart dipped. “Zeke?”
“Okay.” He seemed flustered now before bringing the box between us. It was a jewelry box. Velvet.
A lump rested on the back of my throat. “What is this, Zeke?”
“It’s not an engagement ring.” He said that quickly and rushed. “I mean, shit. I should’ve put this in a different box. I’m not trying to be an asshole, in case you thought it was an engagement ring and now I’m saying it’s not, but…” He stopped talking, trailing off as I reached up and took the box from him. He stepped back, his head lowered. His shoulders hunched down, and he shoved his hands in his pockets.