He wasn’t happy with that.
I sighed. “Look. As fun as one-sided conversations are, I need to know you hear me, okay?”
He sat down on his hindquarters, turning his head away from me.
“Pouting’s not going to work.”
One ear turned toward me, but that was it. I watched as his front paws began to slide along the linoleum. He brought them back, but they immediately began to slide again.
“Just like a dog,” I said.
He jerked his head toward me, flashing his eyes.
“Doesn’t work on me, dude. Come on. Your brother’s going to be here soon. I know he’d like to see you.”
He grumbled as he stood. Dominique held the door to the back open for him. She nodded toward me and followed Gavin through the door.
I rubbed a hand over my face. The men at the lunch counter were whispering to each other, but I ignored them, especially when they kept sneaking looks at me as if they thought I couldn’t see them. Dominique reappeared through the door.
I looked over.
She was trying not to laugh.
I arched an eyebrow at her, not sure if I really wanted to know.
“Pants,” she said. “Not really a fan.”
I groaned. “He can’t be naked in public.”
“I’m not,” he said, sounding extraordinarily put out. He walked through the swinging door. I started choking when I saw what he was wearing. Oh, the jeans were fine, the ends rolled up around his ankles. He wore cheap flip-flops. But it was his shirt that almost made me fall out of the booth.
It was pink.
And had rhinestones on the front, spelling out the word DIVA.
“What the fuck,” I said faintly.
He frowned as he looked down at himself. “What?”
“I don’t think that’s the right shirt,” I managed to say.
He scowled at me. “Why? It’s shiny.” He poked the rhinestones on his chest. “I like shiny.”
“It’s for girls.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Dominique said, squeezing his arm. “Toxic masculinity rears its ugly head yet again. You can wear any old thing you want. That one’s mine, so I know you’ve got good taste.” She tugged on the shirt, pulling it tight against his arms. “A little small, but you’re skinny. Too skinny. Go sit down. I’ll bring you out something to eat. And you better eat it all.”
“Bacon?” he asked hopefully, and if he was shifted, his ears would have perked up.
“Bacon,” she agreed. “Sit.”
He practically strutted as he came back to the table. He looked ridiculous, and I was struggling not to laugh in his face. I wasn’t surprised when, instead of sitting at the other end of the booth, he crowded against me on my side, forcing me to scoot over. “There’s plenty of room over there,” I told him, knowing it was useless.
“I sit here.”
“I see that. I’m just saying you don’t have to. And don’t give me that look. You can’t be pissed off when you’re bedazzled. It doesn’t work like that.”
But oh, he was trying.