That sent a tremor through my whole body.
“You like my hair?” I asked.
I’d done a lot of braids falling and twists back from my face, but the back fell free in natural waves and curls to my waist.
“Babe.”
He said no more.
He liked my hair.
I lifted up my boots. “You like my boots?”
“Jussy,” he growled.
I grinned.
“You do know we’re goin’ to dinner with my boss,” he noted.
My grin died along with my fun.
I needed to be cool and we needed not to be late.
“Sorry, honey.”
Deke moved to me, got close and put his hands on my hips.
“You’re a sweet tease. I like it like that. And that’s to say I like it like that only from you. I still like it. And you know Max is a friend. But just sayin’, the man’s still my boss.”
“Right,” I whispered.
“So put your boots on, gypsy. Yeah?”
I nodded.
He gave my hips a squeeze and let me go.
I walked to my bed, zipped on my boots then went to my dresser and added a turquoise statement necklace, switched out some earrings, threw on some bangles, loaded up with rings, then I was done.
I turned to Deke, who was coming out of the bathroom, shrugging on a nice leather jacket, another item in Deke’s wardrobe I had not seen.
He looked to me, his eyes warmed and his lips muttered, “And she makes sweet sweeter.”
I gave him another grin.
“Jacket?” he asked.
“In the closet, I’ll go get it.”
“Meet you at my truck.”
“You got it.”
Deke didn’t meet me at the truck.
He met me on his way to the door while I was on my way to the walk-in closet.
He caught my wrist, stopped me, bent to me and we touched mouths.
With that, he let me go and moved away.
And I got my jacket and met him at his truck.
* * * * *
“You gonna tell them or am I?”
We were at The Rooster, a somewhat rustic but mostly elegant restaurant nestled into the side of a mountain that was made almost entirely of glass.
Deke and I were in a booth sitting across from hot guy, mountain man Holden “Max” Maxwell, and his pretty blonde wife, Nina, who had a hint of an English accent and a manner that said she was full of attitude.
I liked her on sight.
The question was asked of his woman by Max.
The full attitude hit Nina’s pretty face as she turned it to him. “We’re not going to tell them at all.”
“Duchess, anyone sits opposite us at The Rooster should know,” Max returned.
Duchess. Cute nickname. She was so a “duchess.”
“Not even sure how I got talked into comin’ here,” Max stated and looked to us. “Vowed never to step foot in this place again after the last time. I wanted you to come to our house and make you a meal. My wife can cook. Her fish pie is the best thing I ever tasted. But she wanted to get dressed up. So we’re here.”
That didn’t sound good.
That said, it was sweet Max came out so his wife could get dressed up.
“Tell us what?” Deke’s deep voice sounded.
Nina looked to him and said quickly, “Nothing.”
Max turned his attention to him, and after his wife said that, he said, “Me and Nina hit The Rooster, shit happens.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Once, a brawl,” Max answered.
Say what?
A brawl? In a fancy steak restaurant?
Yikes!
Nina, across the booth from me, leaned in. “Tables turning over, ketchup and horseradish sauce everywhere. It was insanity.”
“Holy cow,” I whispered. I slid a quick glance Max’s way, Max being a man I could totally see involved in a brawl, before I asked Nina, “Were you involved?”
“Mildly,” she murmured, giving the impression she was fibbing.
A giggle escaped me.
“Though, Max didn’t do the brawling,’ Nina clarified. “Not that night. He’d beaten the absolute crap out of another guy earlier in the week though.”
There you go.
I was right.
Max was a brawler.
Another giggle escaped me.
“Luckily, I don’t see anyone in here who might have somethin’ up their ass they feel the need to share at our table,” Max declared, eyes still on Deke. “And you may be the only man I know who’s got no enemies.”
I looked to Deke, finding this fascinating in a very good way.
Fascinating and believable.
His circle was small and tight. He lived. He worked. He kept himself to himself but did all he could for the people who meant something to him.
That was his life.
That was who he was.
That was part of what was now mine in having him.
Nina broke into these happy thoughts by snapping to her husband, “You’re intimating, darling, that that someone who might have something up their ass would feel that way about me.”
I didn’t think he was intimating that at all.
Max looked down at his wife at his side. “Baby, you’re an attorney and one who kicks ass. Anyone on the other side is gonna have something up their ass about you and a lotta them do. Was at The Mark with you just last week when I had to deal with one of them who felt the need to share that with you.”
Apparently, he was intimating that.
“It’s my job,” she retorted.
Max grinned and did it well. So well, I was surprised Nina, watching him do it, didn’t instantly lose her snit and melt into him before asking if we minded if they vacated the table for half an hour to take care of business in their car.