Bubba went to the counter-less island.
I went to Deke.
And Deke came to me.
We met halfway.
He stopped in my space and bent his neck to look down at me.
“Again, you do not gotta buy these boys lunch,” he said low.
As the word “again” would attest, he’d said this before. Every day now since the boys had come to work. It was Friday so that “again” consisted of him saying this (now) five times.
“And again, I’m not gonna bring us lunch and not do the same for the guys,” I replied.
“And again,” he stressed, “you don’t gotta buy me lunch.”
“And again,” I stressed as well as drew the word out, “I like buying you lunch. You give me a hutch, I buy you lunch. And so it goes. So seriously. Shut it about lunch.”
His head went back an inch. “Did you just tell me to shut it?”
“About lunch, yes,” I confirmed.
“Justice.”
“Deke.”
We grew silent.
Then his eyes traveled the length of me and he got a look on his face I didn’t get.
It seemed like a sneer at the same time it seemed like he wanted to drag me to my bedroom and have his wicked way with me.
This meant my back went up at the same time I experienced a lovely shiver.
“Something on your mind?” I asked when he said nothing.
He looked to me.
“Hate those overalls,” he stated bluntly.
Well!
“So gonna like strippin’ ’em off you after the boys leave.”
Right, one could say that explained the look.
He leaned in, his eyes again aimed low, and muttered, “Fuck, can see your panties.”
I leaned in and muttered back, “Deke, don’t turn me on when seven men are horking back pizza in my kinda kitchen.”
Deke stayed where he was but his attention came back to my face. “Then don’t wear shit that’s gonna make me fight gettin’ hard when the boys are horking back pizza in your kitchen.”
“And what would you like me to wear?”
“I’d say those overalls because they’re butt-ugly but since that only makes me think of how fast I’m gonna get them off you after the guys leave, that doesn’t work.”
I tipped my head to the side, prompting, “So?”
“So, I got no ideas because pretty much anything you wear makes me think how fast I wanna strip it off you, even if it’s cute.” The look in his eyes changed, I felt that change in my pussy, and he finished, “Especially if it’s cute.”
I got closer to him and hissed my warning, “Deke, this is not helping.”
He grinned at me. “Like how easy it is to get my gypsy hot for me.”
“Put a lid on it, baby, or your comrades in hammers are gonna know how you sound when you come.” I paused before I finished, “Hard. And how you can make me come. Harder.”
“Fuck,” he growled, that look in his eyes intensifying.
It was my turn to grin.
“I’m gonna get pizza before the good shit is gone and before I miss it altogether ’cause I gotta take a cold shower,” he muttered.
My grin got bigger.
Then I remembered my chat with Sunny and Shambles.
“Go eat,” I ordered. “But before you go, think about dinner tomorrow night at Sunny and Shambles’s place. They asked while I was in today and I promised them after my drama was done, we’d get together.”
His expression lost the look I liked and got a different one I’d never seen when he declared, “Babe, we’re goin’ to The Rooster with Max and Nina tomorrow.”
We were?
“We are?” I asked.
“Max called while you were pickin’ up pizza. Said Nina sorted a sitter and they got a reservation. We’re meetin’ them there at seven.”
“She got a babysitter and made a reservation?”
“Told you Max said he wanted to take us out. He mentioned it earlier this week, said they might not be able to hustle a sitter, but if they could, we were on.”
I felt my brows go up. “Did you think of telling me this?”
“You got plans tomorrow night?” he returned.
“I didn’t. Now Sunny and Shambles want us at dinner tomorrow night.”
Deke put a hand light on my waist, getting deeper in my space to do it. “No offense to them, Jussy, like ’em. They’re good people. But they’re vegetarians.”
“So?” I asked.
“I’m not. You aren’t either. And The Rooster does a kickass steak.”
I heard that.
And Lauren had also waxed poetic about The Rooster’s talent that could be appreciated most by carnivores.
As did Faye.
And Lexie.
Still, even if Shambles was unlikely to make us meat, he’d probably kick ass with whatever he did make.