Chapter 6
Damon
“Hey, Damon!” Rudy called from the living room. “This hot chick is texting me, man. She wants in my pants.”
I massaged spicy peppercorn seasoning into the two ribeyes on my butcher’s block in the kitchen. “Sure, she does.”
“She does, man! And you won’t believe the rack on her. You’ll be so fucking jealous.”
“Maybe you should go hook up with her then.”
Rudy leaned in through the doorway of the kitchen with a grin. “Nah, ese, I can’t miss out on that fine beef you’re cooking up all nice for me.” He walked over to my refrigerator and opened the door. “Not to mention all the chela.”
“What?”
“Beer, man. Beer.” He pulled out a Michelob and popped the top. “How can you call yourself my friend and not even know my Mexican slang?”
“I don’t remember calling myself your friend.”
Rudy laughed off my comment as I ran my hands under the water, then flicked a few droplets onto my indoor grill to test the temperature. It hissed, signaling it was ready to sear some steak.
I’d have preferred to grill outdoors, but I was out of propane. Unlike Dad, I preferred a gas grill and a nice even cook. My countertop Foreman did a pretty good job in a pinch.
Rudy started out of the kitchen.
“Do you have any manners at all?” I asked.
“No. Why?”
“Get me a fucking chela while I cook for you.”
“Oh, my bad.” He backtracked to the fridge and grabbed a second beer, passing it over. “But seriously, dude. Just look at this girl.”
He thrust his phone under my nose, and I was treated to an up-close shot of a woman’s breasts straining a low-cut blouse. It took a minute for my eyes to find her face. She had wavy dark hair, full lips. A real beauty.
“Fake.”
“What? No, her tits look so—”
“The picture, Rudy. The woman. You’re getting catfished.”
“How can you say that?” he protested, pressing a hand over his heart. “You don’t think I can score with her?”
“No,” I said bluntly. “But also, there’s no way that woman lives here. We’d have seen her.”
Rudy squinted as he re-examined his phone. “Maybe she just doesn’t get out much?”
I snorted. “Maybe she’s an Internet troll. Has she asked you for any money yet?”
“Just for twenty bucks to get an Uber…”
“Which Granville doesn’t even have,” I pointed out, “And if it did, it’d cost like five bucks to get anywhere in this tiny town.”
He sagged. “Fuck, man. I’m an idiot, huh?”
I smirked. “No comment.”
Rudy slunk into the living room, defeat written all over him. I’d feel sorry for him if he wasn’t such a damn player. The guy had a good heart, but he was immature and annoying as fuck. But then, he was twenty years old. He still had some growing up to do.
“You don’t think she’s really a dude, do you? I already sent her a shot of my dick, man!”
I choked on a swallow of my beer. “Well, so what if she is? Love is love, ese!”
“Not funny!”
Rudy’s predicament was hella funny, actually. I tried to imagine how I’d feel in his shoes. But when I tried to imagine this so-called guy looking at a dick pic, Maverick’s face with his shiny lip gloss popped into my head.
Weird.
I lifted my beer for another gulp, then focused on cooking the steaks to perfection. There was no room in my mind for images of Maverick gazing at a screen, biting his bottom lip, then slipping a hand down his pants…
“Yo, Damon!”
Rudy’s voice jerked me back to reality.
“What the fuck now?” I snapped, irritated that my mind had drifted into such unsettling waters. I’d never been into guys, never even thought twice about it. I was just putting Maverick into that imaginary scenario because he was the gay guy I knew best, right?
I mean, I knew Lyle really well, but he was taken—and I wasn’t gonna perv on someone’s boyfriend, even in my mind. That was all. Mav was single and ate me up with his eyes. He’d probably love it if I went for men.
Not that I would. Because I was straight.
Obviously.
“Are you expecting someone else, man?” Rudy said. “A big-ass pickup just pulled up outside.”
“What?”
I clicked off the grill and went to the front door. I pulled it open at the same time Maverick opened his. Speak of the gay devil.
He cut his eyes my way. “What do you want?”
I raised an eyebrow, sweeping my gaze over him. Tight jeans, shimmery silk top, and more of that damn lip gloss.
“Just seeing who rolled up.” I checked out the big truck idling loudly at the curb. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”
Maverick nodded. “That’s because he’s here for me.”
I did a double take, doing the math. Maverick looked dressed up, and his date drove a beast of a truck. What were the odds?
“No way,” I said. “You’re not telling me…”
Maverick smiled sweetly. “Iola was very helpful in helping me find a good match. She even had a profile already done for me.”
My jaw dropped. What the fuck?
Maverick was supposed to be pissed that I set him up. He wasn’t supposed to smile those glossy lips at the man emerging from the truck at the curb. Wasn’t supposed to sashay those narrow hips down the steps or half turn and give me a smug little wave.
“Don’t wait up, Damon,” he said with a wink. “I plan to have fun tonight.”
“You’re bluffing,” I called from the steps, gaze darting over his shoulder to the six-foot linebacker of a man headed up the walk.
“Am I?”
“That is not your type at all.”
Maverick tilted his head. “He’s not?”
“No! I filled out that profile to annoy you. I put in everything I thought you’d hate. You don’t like big pickups or going to The Stag Pub for beer and darts.”
Maverick shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe it all depends on who’s doing the driving, Damon.”
“What?”
“I better not keep Jory waiting.”
“Jory?” I choked. “That new guy on the landscaping crew?”
“Yeah.”
Maverick glanced toward the sidewalk, where Jory was making his way toward us. The man was brawny as fuck with sandy blond hair, matching scruff, and a plaid jacket. Seriously? This dude was gay and matched up with Maverick on the first try? What were the fucking odds?
“I should get going,” Maverick said. “I know you signed me up to be an asshole, but thanks, Damon. I think Jory is exactly what I needed.”
I ground my teeth, so fucking annoyed I could barely see straight. I’d been so sure this would be sweet revenge after that truck-for-sale stunt, but Maverick was happy.
Or at least pretending to be.
“Right,” I bit out. “Well, don’t have too much fun throwing those darts at the pub.”
Jory laughed as he reached us. “Actually, we’re headed over to Riverton. They’ve got a great new club opening tonight. Should be fun.”
Shit. That sounded more Maverick’s style. I cast a look his way to see him watching me with a speculative expression.
“Right,” I said hollowly. “Have a good time, kids.” I pointed at Jory. “Don’t keep him out too late.”
Jory laughed. “You got it, Dad.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Maverick said as he linked his arm through Jory’s and started walking down the sidewalk.
A strong, violent urge struck to rip off Jory’s arm.
With a growl, I stomped back into my house, where fucking Rudy was still sprawled in my living room. “Get your fucking boots off my coffee table.”
Rudy dropped his feet and sat up straight. “Damn, what crawled up your ass?”
“Nothing.” I scowled. “If we’re gonna eat this steak, let’s fucking do it. I’ve got other shit to do tonight.”
“Like what?” Rudy asked, mystified.
I didn’t have an answer to that, but I was fairly sure it was going to involve waiting up until Maverick walked his perky little ass back into his half of this duplex.
I didn’t want to stay up late. I had risen with dawn for work, and I was already tired.
But fuck if I knew what else to do with this antsy tension thrumming in my veins.
I could go out, try to pick someone up, but then I might miss Maverick when he returned. I needed to see that he got home all right. I’d been the idiot to set him up with these blind dates.
The least I could do was make sure he stayed safe, right?