Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“Sorry, I have chicken juice on my hands, just a sec,” I said, dashing to the sink to wash off the juice.
After I got that done, I approached Big Petey with hand raised. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too, doll,” he replied, taking my hand, squeezing it firm and friendly, then letting me go.
“Have you had breakfast? Coffee?” I asked.
“Got covered on the way over,” he said.
“Suzette hasn’t come out yet, but I’ll go in and get her so I can introduce you before Hugger and I leave. I just have to get the Crock-pot sorted, and I’ll do that.”
“Got nowhere else to be but here, Diana,” he assured.
I smiled at him, “Make yourself at home, with everything. Food, drink, TV streaming, whatever.”
“Thanks, darlin’.”
I returned to the kitchen and got a carton of broth.
I was pouring it over the chicken when Hugger asked, “What are you doing?”
“Setting up dinner.”
“Now?”
I looked up at him. “It’s a slow cooker.”
He glanced inside the Crock-pot then back to me. “What’s for dinner?”
“Shredded chicken tacos.”
His head twitched to the side. “We had tacos last night.”
“And we’re having them again tonight. And if you have an issue with that, suck it up, because we’ll probably have them tomorrow night too.”
“Tacos are tacos. You can never say no to a taco,” he spoke the gods’ honest truth. Then he veered off the righteous path. “Unless you have to eat them every night.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a whole repertoire of tacos. You’ve had the beer-battered cod. Tonight, shredded chicken. Then there’s shredded beef. And ground beef. And shrimp. And grilled fish. Also grilled chicken. And then there’s fajita tacos. And steak. And—”
He put a palm up in front of my face and commanded, “Stop.”
Not a fan of that palm (though definitely a fan of his big, long-fingered hand—God, someone kill me), I wrinkled my nose at him.
He stared at my nose a good deal like he’d stared at my mouth last night, and his hand went away.
I ignored how much I liked the expression on his face and retorted, “Don’t be dissing my tacos.”
“So you’re sayin’ you’re a taco aficionado too.”
“I’m an aficionado of a lot, and all of it revolves around food.”
His eyes dropped to the vicinity of my hips and he mumbled, “Approved.”
My clit pulsed.
Hugger put his bowl to his mouth and drank the milk from it.
And God help me, my clit pulsed at that too.
Big Petey cleared his throat.
I turned to see biker grandpa had turned into Biker Grandpa! because he was grinning hugely at Hugger and me, his eyes were dancing, and the very air around him sparkled with glee.
“I love tacos,” he announced.
“Well, good, because there’ll be plenty,” I replied.
On that, Big Petey wandered to the couch. I got on with setting up the Crock-pot. And Hugger, to my shock, rinsed his bowl, spoon and coffee mug and put them in the dishwasher.
Proof.
Bikers tidied.
With nothing else available to delay it, something I wanted to do because I wasn’t sure she was ready for it, and I knew I wasn’t ready to push her on it, but I had no choice (not to mention, I needed to get to work), I told Big Petey, “I’m going to go get Suzette now.”
“All right, honey.”
I walked down the hall, knocked softly and was taken aback when the door immediately opened several inches and Suzette appeared.
She was dressed, and this was a thing for her. I’d seen her precisely once wearing pajamas. This when I was in the middle of a TV binge in the living room, it was late, and she’d shuffled to and from the bathroom.
All other times, she was ready to rumble at any given moment, for the most part, even wearing her Chucks.
It hurt my heart, understanding why.
But I understood why (we could just say, after the incident, I’d had no study dates anywhere but in public places, and no man, to this very day, was allowed in my house until after the fifth date, no exceptions (wait, there was one: unrequested biker security services)).
Understanding this, I didn’t say anything about it.
“Hey. Big Petey is here. I want you to meet him before me and Hugger have to take off.”
“’Kay,” she whispered, opened the door and slithered out.
She wasn’t wearing shoes.
Perhaps improvement?
We walked down the hall.
Hugger kept his distance, and I loved he knew to do that.
Big Petey rose from the couch.
On sight of her, a fleeting moment of unadulterated fury swept through his face before he controlled it and smiled at Suzette.
“Hey, girl,” he greeted.
“Hey,” she whispered timidly.
“I’m Big Petey.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled.
“You have breakfast?” he asked.
“I’m not super hungry,” she answered, and since she ate two tacos last night, this time, she might actually not be hungry.
“Maybe not, but we all gotta eat, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Pete returned, then looked at me. “You got eggs and bacon?”