Because of this I went to the grocery store after work, got the ingredients for the pizza, two bottles of red, two bottles of white and two six packs (one of fancy beer, one of good old American beer) so Mitch would have choice. Friday morning I set the chicken to marinade and Saturday morning I went back out to the grocery store so the salad fixings would be fresh.
* * * * *
And that brought me to now. The salad in the fridge, the beer and white wine chilled. I was staring at a prize winning pizza that, after twenty minutes in the oven, would be a pizza feast fit for a king.
* * * * *
I slid the pizza in my fridge, turned on the oven in preparation for baking, grabbed my phone, hit the three for speed dial and Bradon picked up.
“Hey girl, what’s shakin’?” he asked, having caller ID on his phone and knowing it was me.
“Can you do me a favor, look out your window and tell me if Mitch’s SUV is there?”
I heard silence before I heard Bradon ask, “Why?”
“He fixed my faucet and payback is me making him barbeque chicken pizza and the pizza is ready. I just want to check if he’s there before I go over and knock.”
I heard more silence then, “You made him your pizza?”
“He asked for it.”
I heard even more silence then on a shout, “Brent! Get this! Mara made her barbeque chicken pizza for Mitch. He fixed her faucet. He’s going over there tonight for pizza!”
Ohmigod!
B and B lived right across from Mitch! He might be able to hear Bradon shout.
“You’re joking!” I heard Brent shout back then I heard a closer to the phone shout of, “Excellent!”
“Bray!” I hissed. “Stop shouting!”
“I love this,” Bradon said in my ear.
“I love it too!” I heard Brent shout.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it’s cool and because it’s about time. I don’t know what your deal is, girl, but he is hot. I was a girl and I was straight, I would have made my move a long time ago,” Bradon told me.
“This isn’t a move. This is a thank you pizza,” I informed him.
“Unh-hunh,” Bray mumbled. “I hope you’re wearing that little camisole, the sage-y gray one that’s satin. It’s hot. You’re hot in it. And if I was straight and you made me pizza and I came over and you were wearing that top, I’d jump you …” he paused, “before the pizza.”
See what I mean? Friends always thought you were in a different zone than you truly were.
“It’s just a neighborly thanks for fixing my faucet pizza,” I again explained.
“Right. Wear that top,” Bradon returned.
“Definitely wear that top,” Brent said loudly in the background.
“With those jeans, the tight ones that are faded and have the split in the knee,” Bradon added.
“Oh yeah,” I heard Brent put in. “And the silver sandals. Not the wedges. The ones with the stiletto heel.”
“Absolutely. Those silver sandals are beyond hot. They’re smokin’ hot,” Bradon continued.
“I can’t wear those sandals with those jeans. Those jeans are knockabout jeans. Those sandals are fancy sandals,” I argued. “You don’t put those together.”
“Oh yeah you do, especially since those jeans do things to your ass that would knock the gay out of Elton John,” Bradon retorted.
These guys.
“Whatever,” I muttered and got back to the matter at hand. “Can you just tell me if his SUV is out there?”
I didn’t want to wander over there and knock if he wasn’t there and I didn’t want to have to go out there to see if his SUV was there. If I had to take time out to do anything that scary, I’d lose my nerve. I’d made the pizza. I’d gone all out. I was psyched up. This had to go smoothly. Anything going wrong could put me off.
There was nothing for a second from Bradon and I figured he was going to his living room window then I heard, “Yeah, his SUV is there.”
Damn. Suddenly I decided that was bad news.
“Change, girl, into that outfit and go, go, go,” Bradon encouraged. “Then call me tomorrow morning when he’s out buying you a bagel and let us know if he’s as good with that fabulous body as the way he moves promises.”
I felt these words all over my body but my scalp, nipples and points south tingled the most.
Would that I lived in a world where Detective Mitch Lawson ate my pizza, spent the night and left my bed the next morning to buy me a bagel. I loved bagels. I’d love Mitch leaving my bed to buy me one more. Mostly because that would mean he was coming back.
“Shut up. You’re freaking me out,” I told Bradon.