Love On Tap (Love By Design 8) - Page 32

“What?” I said stepping back. I had no idea where he was going with his accusatory attitude. “Look buddy, I didn’t give your number to anyone and definitely not some dude with a willy-wanker looking like…that!” I sputtered.

“No, but I did give my number to your girl back in Vegas. I thought if she needed to call for an emergency then she’d have someone reliable to reach.” He scowled at us. Even Evan kept his face neutral and I knew that was stretch for him given their tenuous treaty. He raised his eyebrows and cop or not if he so much as smirked the wrong way I’d hit him myself for setting Damien off.

“What the fuckery, man. I didn’t expect her to leave it on a greyhound for the world to procure.” Damian left the bar and headed for the restrooms, hopefully to cool off. The second he was out of earshot Chase and Whit started snickers and Hunter heaved a deep sigh. Evan for all he was worth chugged his beer slamming the glass down.

“I have no words. I really don’t.” Evan coughed a chuckle and Pedro placed two plates of appetizers down. Hands reached and I slapped them out of the way.

“Nobody touch the nachos. Those are a peace offering.” I said sliding them out of Evan’s reach. Hunter agreed and pushed the potato boats toward the guys on the end. I poured a fresh round of beers for everyone as Damien slid into the barstool, his shoulders hunched.

“So ah you find anything interesting in the restroom.” Hunter nudged his cousin lightly.

Damien took a sip of his beer and rolled his eyes before speaking. “In case you assholes were curious the only thing I saw in the bathroom was my giant pierced dick. I’d put it up on the wall, but I don’t want to make you cry next time you go in there.”

Hunter grunted. “Fair enough. Anything you want me to remodel. Paint? Hammer?”

“Nope.” Damien said popping the p like he wished it was someone’s face.

I leaned over the bar and snatched a nacho from what I designated as Damien’s plate. I figured since I owned the place I could at least snag a chip. “I’ll talk to Sierra.”

I crunched down and take another hoping Damien will be reasonable like I think he will be.

“It’s fine, but since she’s okay, don’t think I’m letting this go.” He pointed at me again, and chomped another chip. Damien acted like it rolled off him, but I knew he’d plan something devious. He couldn’t help himself. It would have been like asking Jim Carey to not do an Ace Ventura impression, it simply wasn’t happening. My only concern was how far he might take it. We’d all been victim to a Damien prank or two, the most recent involving dick bread thanks to Carmen letting him loose in her kitchen.

“Fair enough. Should I warn her?”

Damien clucked. “Now Andrew, what would be the fun in that?”

Yeah, I would definitely give her a heads up, but she kind of asked for it. What on earth had she been thinking? I doubted Damien would do anything too over the top. Kristen kept him pretty busy and he was more of the dad joke type these days, but I had to wonder what the dick pic equivalent punishment would be.

29

Sierra

Shower sex was interesting. It definitely wasn’t in league with horse trough sun kissed water and thick fingers pushing inside my walls interesting. No. That was an entirely different sort of thing that brought back sweet memories of what I thought was corrupting Emmett Walker but turned out to be him showing me kindness and that things didn’t have to be complicated or weird. I hadn’t expected my bus to break down in Lancaster County and I didn’t expect to be taken in by a bachelor Amish farmer who clearly hadn’t followed all

the rules laid out for him.

Thank God for small mercies, I supposed.

Shower sex was interesting in the way decaf coffee was a novelty. It’s a nice thought, tastes nearly the same, but if you’re not careful it could leave you hanging, bruised, or a little broken. As flexible as I was and as athletic as Andy tried to be there was more elbow whacking, knee jamming in his clearly one person shower.

“Sorry.” Andy mumbled wrapping his hips in a towel on his way to make coffee. I watched his back muscles ripple as he stalked away leaving the door open. I angled my head out of the shower following his path with my eyes.

“It’s okay.” I muttered washing the rest of the conditioner from my hair and then towel drying off. We could fix the shower and it wasn’t like sex was something I should have been doing with him anyway.

“You want an omelet or something?” He called from the kitchen. I shivered in the open floor plan of the loft. This wasn’t Vegas for sure and my skin pebbled reminding me that upstate New York definitely saw all four seasons. Even my nipples hurt drying off and I slipped the lace bralette over my breasts followed by a slouchy sweatshirt, non-matching satin panties, and ripped skinny jeans. My toes were in desperate need of a pedicure but I didn’t have the time to hit up CVS for polish. Yeah. The state of my finances was a rationing of beauty goods until I could get the vineyard sold.

“Sure. I could eat.” I towel dried my hair and twisted it up in a turban style following Andy into the kitchen.

He stood at the counter facing away from me. He reached above the sink for a pan in the cupboard and then into the fridge for eggs, veggies, meat, and cheese. I never really knew Andy could cook until this moment and it was nice to watch him in action. He definitely had done this before and my chest twisted wondering if he’d done this for other women. Of course he had. We’d been separated for ten years. It wasn’t like I lived a saintly life scratching the occasional sexual need to numb out the loneliness. I couldn’t exactly judge Andy for doing the same. Didn’t change the fact that I wanted to claw whatever bitch’s eyes out but I reminded myself that this was my doing.

Andy cracked eggs and chopped a few items before tossing it all in the buttered pan. Delicious smells filled the air and he poured me a cup of coffee before he turned again with a masterful flip of his spatula.

“When did you learn to cook?” I asked sipping the heavenly coffee.

“After I moved out of mom and dad’s house I came here.”

“Weren’t there tenants here back then?” I tried to remember but the details were fuzzy and time rounded out the sharper points.

Tags: M.C. Cerny Love By Design Romance
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