He throws his head back and laughs, then disappears inside.
I end up making them dinner. After all, it’s the least I can do. Plus, like Sin said, love the man, love the club.
And I sure as hell love both.
* * *
Several days later, I’m packed and ready to deal with my father’s house. Vinnie and Sin are coming with me, and although I feel like this is an unsafe trip, the two of them assured me that it’s going to be fine, that they’ve covered every angle. Faye and Clover are staying with Tracker and Lana until we get back—we decided it would be easier to just spend the night there. The thought of going through all my father’s belongings and putting them into storage makes me feel sick, but it needs to be done. I need to start facing things head-on, and I’m going to start with this. It’s a six-hour drive to get there, and although I offer, for some reason Vinnie is adamant that he drive the whole way there and back.
“I can drive, you know,” I say, wanting to prop my feet up on the dash, but I don’t, because we’re in Vinnie’s four-wheel drive, not my car. “You’re going to get tired if we drive the whole way.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he says, then mutters, “Unlike if you were driving.”
I gasp, my head turning to him in an instant. “What is that supposed to mean? I’m a great driver, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that I passed my test on the first try.”
Vinnie doesn’t look impressed. “I rode behind you on the way here, remember? Babe, you suck. You swerve all over the road, probably because you’re singing along to some terrible song and not paying attention to what you’re doing. I saw you dancing too, and the car was flying all over the place. Don’t even get me started on the way you slam your foot on the brakes.” He glances at me and says, “I don’t know what the brakes ever did to you, but there’s no reason to kick the shit out of them.”
I roll my eyes at his exaggeration. “I’ve had only one accident, and that wasn’t even my fault. No one else has ever complained about my driving.” I pause and add, “I’m such a good driver that I get to sing and add in little dance moves when I see fit.”
“Sing and dance all you want on this trip, because I’m driving the whole fuckin’ way,” he says, softening the blow with a cheeky grin. “You can even listen to any music you want. I have a great skill of being able to block shit out when I don’t want to deal with it.”
“Charming,” I mutter, pursing my lips. Still, I turn on the radio, letting the music fill the car. Twenty minutes into the drive, I sigh heavily. “I’m hungry.”
“We planned to stop in about half an hour, so can you wait? If not there’s some snacks in the back. I got chips, chocolate, and bottled water.”
I turn around and see a plastic bag on the car seat that I didn’t notice before. I go through it and pull out a packet of chips. “You’re the best.”
“Can’t have my woman hungry, can I?” he says, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. I’m about to tell him how sweet he is when he continues talking. “Then I’d have to deal with you being grumpy the whole night. What’s it called? Hangry?”
“Hangry?”
“Yeah, when your hunger makes you angry.”
“I don’t get angry,” I say, scowling at him, then forcing my lips to soften to prove my point. “See? All smiles.” I shove a chip in my mouth. “Do you want one?”
“No, thank you,” he says, mouth twitching. “I don’t know how you can eat those.”
It’s the habanero ones I always get from the store; they’re my favorite, but after a while my mouth does start to burn a little. I must like it though, because I keep going back for more.
“They’re addictive,” I say, crunching into another one. “You’ve never even tried one, yet you don’t like them.”
“I can barely eat pepper, Shay,” he says, making me laugh. It’s true, he couldn’t really handle much of any spice.
“You think that’s funny, huh?”
“I do, it’s like we’re opposites.”
“Opposites attract,” he says, running his hand down my thigh.
“That they do. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive? Just let me know if you get tired. I won’t kill us, okay? I promise. Wouldn’t want to do the mobsters’ work for them.”