“I don’t know, maybe because I was freaking busy!”
Killyama dipped a limp fry into a glob of ketchup. “Don’t blame me. How was I supposed to know that Dalton decided to call Grace while you were at the gas station? You were supposed to call us before you went into the club. You were the one who didn’t do what she was supposed to do.”
When Killyama popped the fry into her mouth, T.A. was tempted to climb over the table and snatch the bitch up in a stranglehold. If Killyama weren’t pregnant, she would.
“Don’t ask me for any more favors. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my whole life.”
Killyama stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I can. Remember when you got drunk prom night and mooned the principal? How about when you pretended you owned a BMW to get a date with a dude you worked with and were pulled over for stealing one when you were out with him?”
T.A. folded her arms over her breasts as Killyama went on talking. Her husband, Train, Jonas, and Hammer quietly listened without interrupting. They had learned a long time ago to stay out of the fights between the bitches.
“Or when you decided to go as a unicorn to a Halloween party?”
“I looked hot in the pink latex.” T.A. narrowed her eyes on Killyama, who kept eating her fries as she dissected her most embarrassing moments.
“You went to the tanning bed so much you were orange. Pink and orange don’t go together. You looked like a unicorn with a sunburn.”
“Train, when is the baby due?” T.A. asked sweetly.
“In five months.”
T.A. pushed her uneaten fries toward Killyama. “You can have mine. You want my pie? I’m not hungry.” She slid the pie toward her too.
“You trying to get me fat?”
“Would I do that?”
Killyama rolled her eyes at her but took the fries and pie anyway. She would prefer to shove the pies and fries down her throat, but she had learned when dealing with her friends to surprise them with a sneak attack rather than pulling their hair out like she wanted to do. Killyama could kick her ass even four months pregnant.
“Was he as hot in person?” Killyama stopped eating her food long enough to ask.
“Hotter.”
“Damn.” Killyama gave her husband a threatening glare.
“You’ll live.” He shrugged. “You promised me you would quit bounty hunting when you were pregnant.”
“Going after Dalton Andrews wasn’t a bounty; it was more like relaying a message.”
“The Road Slayers are the most dangerous club in the state. There was no way I was letting you go in there. Jonas, Hammer, and I all offered to go for you.”
“Whip had that club locked down tight with Dalton in there. None of you were getting in there, and you know it. If Shade couldn’t, you three didn’t stand a chance.”
“Are you saying that Shade is better than me?”
“I’m saying he’s sneakier than you.”
T.A. snickered at Train’s expression. It was nice to see the biker having to deal with his wife’s barbs. At least they weren’t directed at her.
“We going home tomorrow?” Now that the buildup of contacting Dalton was behind her, she experienced a little letdown that it was all over. She didn’t even have an autograph to show off that she had met him.
“Yes, Grace can pay if you want to stay longer.”
“No, I’m ready to go home.”
“Why are you looking so down?”
“I’m not.”
“It doesn’t look like that from where I’m sitting.”
“It just wasn’t what I was expecting.”
T.A. flushed at the stares that were coming from the men at the table; it was only Killyama who understood what she was feeling.
“It’s hard to go home to chopped liver when you’ve had filet mignon on the menu. I told you not to expect a hookup.”
“A girl can dream.”
“There are about five million women with the same dream. I had the same dream until Train knocked me up.”
Train looked like he was the one who wanted to strangle Killyama now.
“Cool down, lover. I’m just joking.”
T.A. smiled at Killyama’s wink. “I bet he hooks up with all of those actresses he’s been working with.” Dismally, her sky-high hopes took a dive from about one in five million to zilch. She had known it was ridiculous.
4
“What do you think?”
Dalton watched the images on his computer screen critically.
“It’ll do.”
His son gave him a frustrated frown. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing.”
Dax turned in his computer chair, pausing the scene they had shot that morning.
“Tell me.”
Dalton ran a tired hand through his short hair. “Nothing is wrong. I told you, Dax. I’m over doing movies.”
Leaning back in his chair, Dax gave him a considering look. “Maybe it’s action movies you’re over. We could try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like one with a story line.”
Dalton lips quirked in a smile.
“That would definitely be different.” Laughing, he stood and went to the sidebar to pour himself another cup of coffee.