“Works for me,” she went back to her blusher. “Tips went wild after you and Lottie left the stage.” Another smile to me, this one making the back of my neck prickle because it was melancholy. Possibly because she just handed her tips to Gibbons, or knew she’d be handing them to Steiner. “Thanks for that.”
“No probs,” I replied.
She again turned her attention to her blusher.
“JoJo?” I called. Her eyes came to mine in the mirror, her brows went up and my voice dropped low. “No matter what it is, you put your faith in the right person, they can move in and work it out. You with me?”
She was with me. She’d frozen and looked utterly freaked.
“Just take that in,” I whispered. “You don’t have to do anything. Just take it in. Yeah?”
She nodded slowly.
I smiled at her and moved away, hoping she’d more than take it in.
Then I moved into the hall because it was time to strip.
* * * * *
The rendezvous point for our late, late night activities was Tex’s house.
After finishing my last set, Ren followed me home so we could drop his Jag. We were taking my car, because in Tex’s ‘hood where tweakers were abundant, Jags were like shining beacons calling all to commit mayhem.
When he came to my ‘stang, he opened my door and leaned in. It was then I saw the look in his eyes, which meant I was hoping this business would be done, and quick, so we could get back home and f**k each other’s brains out.
In other words, one could just say that Ren liked to watch me take my clothes off while dancing. He might prefer it if I was a private dancer, but he still liked getting it as it came.
However, once positioned in my door, he proceeded to boss me with, “Get out, babe. I’m drivin’.”
My reply was, “It’s my car, Ren.”
Which got me a, “Yeah. I know. And I’m drivin’ it.”
Thus commenced a Rock Chick/Macho Badass exchange of words that got mildly heated and lasted ten minutes before Ren leaned further in, undid my seatbelt, hauled me to my feet, shoved me against the car and laid a hot and heavy one on me.
While I was recovering, he pushed me aside, folded behind the wheel and didn’t delay in adjusting the seat.
I allowed myself five seconds to fume. Then, as I couldn’t execute the same maneuver, I stomped to my side and angled in.
But once in, I declared immediately, “That lost you head for a week.”
“Bullshit, baby. I get you breathy and tell you I want your mouth, you’ll suck my c**k deep so fast I won’t be able to blink.”
His words made me want to go down on him right there.
I didn’t give indication of that.
I buckled in saying, “We’ll see.”
“Yeah, this is done, we will.”
That sounded like a promise.
Hmm.
Ren drove to Tex’s. I grabbed my little pepper spray and stun gun out of the glove compartment before I got out. Shoving my stun gun in the back waistband of my jeans and my pepper spray in my front pocket, I stormed the rest of my pique off by stomping up to the door, Ren following me.
Tex opened it before we got there and ordered, “Keep it quiet inside. Nance’s sleepin’.”
She would be. It was three thirty in the morning.
We would also know to do this since Tex now had an official ball and chain and if she wasn’t flitting around serving coffee, we’d know to keep it down.
I understood why he gave us this warning when I walked in and noticed several things right off the bat.
One, Tex seemed to have twice as many cats as usual, and since he had about fifteen of them the last time I was there, this was a lot.
Two, Hector was there, as expected.
Three, Mace was there, as was not expected.
And four, The Kevster and f**king Rosie were there, as was insane.
“What the…!” I started on a shout. Tex cut his eyes to me and I brought it down about ten notches, “Hell?”
Rosie, looking like Rosie—that was to say a less kempt Kurt Cobain (except, obviously, alive)—jumped up from Tex’s couch and said (on a whisper), “The Kevster went to get some stuff from Kumar, Kumar told him what was goin’ down tonight. He told me and I came to help. It’s my way of sayin’ sorry.”
I glared at Kevin then I transferred my glare to Tex. “Why didn’t you kick them out?” I demanded to know.
“Did I not mention Nancy’s sleepin’?” he asked back on a low boom.
Crap.
I moved my glare to Rosie. “Daily deliveries of flowers for a year, replacement of my Firefly DVDs, and twenty-five rock ‘n’ roll t-shirts say I’m sorry, Rosie. You showing up prior to a mission does not.” I looked back at The Kevster. “And you know better.”
“Dudette,” he replied then said no more.
Then again, often for The Kevster, that was all he had to say.
I stared at The Kevster, who had a ginger cat in his lap he was stroking, a tuxedo kitty snoozing at his side, and a tiger cat on the floor by his leg, batting at the ragged hem of his jeans, and I sucked in breath.
“Two potheads and bring your boyfriend to work day. This isn’t startin’ great,” Mace noted, and I looked at him.
“And what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Not convinced about you. Here to get convinced,” he stated then uncrossed an arm that was crossed on his chest and swung it out before finishing, “Though, gotta say, this shit isn’t convincing me.”
It was nice he was considering backing my play. It was better he was there to help.
He was still annoying me.
“I’ve been here a minute and Ren can take care of himself, which I suspect you know. So keep your pants on, I’ll deal with shit and we’ll move out,” I returned.
“Right,” he replied, still obviously unconvinced.
I didn’t have time to chat with Mace. I had tweaker robbers to locate, a fight with my man to finish, then I wanted sex. Though, I could combine the last two. Angry sex worked for Ren and me, seeing as we mostly existed on that for a year.
I turned back to Rosie and The Kevster and ordered, “Go home.”
Rosie felt like being obstinate, unfortunately.
“No. We’re gonna help. A tweaker will open a door to one of us way faster than they’d open one to one of you.” He, too, threw out an arm to indicate the crew. “We can go in, get the lay of the land, give the high sign.”
I stared at him and saw what I didn’t want to see.