Chapter 8
Lauren
I was on my second cup of coffee the next morning when my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I picked it up from the table to see a message from Dustin.
Dustin: I’m sorry again about last night.
Me: No apology needed. I hope it’s something easily fixed.
I received a “thumbs-up” emoji in return, then put the phone down with a sigh as I thought back to the clusterfuck that last night’s date had been.
All through dinner I’d been distracted by thoughts of Trick, and how nicely he filled out his jeans.
I’d had a great view of his ass from my spot at the base of the ladder as he’d replaced the battery for me.
For several minutes after he’d left, I could swear I’d still felt the side of my face tingling from where he’d touched me.
I didn’t even want to think about the jolt of awareness I’d felt in the rest of my body.
Of course, the moment he’d opened his mouth and called me babe again, I’d wanted to shove him off the ladder. Beau had always called me that. Of course, he always called every woman that, as I’d learned after discovering his hidden Tinder account and reading the extensive chat history.
Dustin hadn’t seemed to notice my distraction, thank goodness, or my irritation with myself that I kept mentally comparing him to Trick.
By the time we’d both declined to order dessert, it was clear to me that the attraction I’d initially felt for Dustin had faded.
He was a nice guy, but he wasn’t holding my attention, and I refused to lead him on.
I knew that if he asked me out again, I would politely decline.
I had been quiet on the drive back to my place, a fact that Dustin didn’t pick up on simply because his “check engine light” came on as we were leaving the restaurant. By the time we had reached my house, it was obvious that there was something seriously wrong with his car.
We’d barely made it to the duplex, and Dustin was beyond frustrated that his brand-new vehicle was sputtering and lurching each time he accelerated, and that the engine had almost stalled at the last stoplight.
“I just bought this two months ago,” he’d complained, smacking his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. I couldn’t blame him for being aggravated. Car problems were the absolute worst.
He’d pulled to a jerky stop in my driveway, apologizing profusely as the engine sputtered again, and it was obvious that he was equal parts angry and embarrassed.
I had assured him that I understood, and he’d left me with nothing more than another apology and a distracted peck on my cheek.
I was thankful that he hadn’t mentioned seeing me again, as I would have hated to kick the man when he’d been down, as the saying goes.
I busied myself with some household chores until it was time to shower and get ready for the cookout.
After a quick debate about what to wear, I settled on a pair of fitted, navy blue shorts with a light blue sleeveless shirt.
I slathered on a little more sunscreen than usual, since I assumed we might be outside on such a nice day, before adding minimal makeup.
It wasn’t like I was trying to impress anybody, I reminded myself.
I gathered my hair up into a high ponytail and slipped on my favorite sandals before heading out the door.
Ella’s daughter Mia greeted me at their door and told me that everyone was out in the backyard. I was happy I’d made the right call about the extra sunscreen because it looked like we would be eating outside. With my fair skin, it would have been a disaster without it.
I stepped outside and spotted Molly, Ella, and Camille sitting at a picnic table under a shade tree and walked over to join them.
“Hi Lauren, I’m so glad you could make it,” Ella greeted me, as Molly scooted over and gestured for me to sit next to her.
I glanced around, seeing a few familiar faces along with quite a few I’d never met before. “It looks like you have quite a crowd,” I commented, and Ella nodded.
“Brick and his family had plans already, and Cowboy and Michelle took his younger two kids to Texas to visit his sister, but the rest of the club brothers are here, aside from a few who had to work.”
“Who wants to bet whether Viking and Sinner start arguing and burn the burgers this time?” Molly asked.
“I swear those two enjoy bickering more than anyone I’ve ever met,” Ella responded with a chuckle.
I laughed, too, having seen it for myself.
I glanced over at the huge grilling station on the patio, where Viking and Sinner were clearly in charge.
Jagger, King, and several of the club members were standing around talking and keeping an eye on them, as if waiting for the show to start.
I didn’t see Trick and told myself that I wasn’t actually looking for him.
“I was afraid we were going to be late,” Abby said as she hurried over and plopped a large diaper bag down on the ground, before sitting down in a chair at the end of the table.
“Ethan couldn’t find his left shoe and absolutely refused to wear a different pair, then Everly threw a fit about the bow Caleb put in her hair,” she said, gesturing to the grill area where Rome – or Caleb, as she called him – stood with Everly in his arms, the little girl looking adorable even without hair accessories.
Ethan was already clambering up the jungle gym that King and Ella had installed for him, and I pretended not to notice as Trick appeared and stood under him, acting as his spotter as the little boy grabbed the top rung on the monkey bars and started making his way across.
Molly unknowingly distracted me by asking how my date had gone, and I gave her the highlights, without revealing that I’d been distracted by thoughts of Trick all night.
“Well, I’m done with dating for a while,” Camille announced.
“I went out with a man last week, and we’ve been texting every day since then.
Mid-forties, handsome, has a good job, smart, funny, charming…
all the things, right? Well, I should have known it was too good to be true.
He sent me a message this morning and I’m still stunned… and not in a good way, either.”
She paused for a breath, before picking up her phone to read the text to us. “Good morning, gorgeous,” she intoned dramatically. “I had the most delicious dream about you last night. When I woke up this morning, my ding-a-ling was harder than it’s ever been.”
Abby gasped, Molly’s mouth dropped open, Ella almost choked on her drink, and I just blinked. Repeatedly.
“A fully adult, grown-ass man used the word ding-a-ling, ladies! My flabbers are still gasted, let me tell you. I mean, I’ve heard men call their dicks a lot of things in my life, but I think ding-a-ling ranks up there near the top of the worst.”
The resulting giggles, snorts, and cackles that followed made every head turn our way. King broke off from the group by the grill and ambled over as we tried to compose ourselves.
“It looks like you’re havin’ a good time, sugar.”
“We always do,” Ella assured him, lifting her face to peer up at him. He took the opportunity to bend down to drop a quick kiss on her lips, then saluted us with his bottle of water before rejoining the men.
One of the prospects walked over and asked what Abby and I wanted to drink, then told the others he would bring them refills. Once he walked away, Molly continued the conversation Camille had started.
“I’m always amused by the number of euphemisms that romance authors use. I think the least romantic one I’ve read is ‘turgid member’,” she offered.
“Ooh…velvet-wrapped steel,” Abby said. “They aren’t wrong,” she admitted with a shrug.
“The love rod, the baloney pony, and the anaconda,” Camille crowed, punctuating her contribution by lifting her glass of what looked to be lemonade in the air.
Ella gave her a double take. “What the hell kind of books are you reading? Eh, never mind. I forget sometimes that you go for smut over story.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, El,” she cracked back with a wicked grin. “Don’t judge me for being a smut slut.”
We all laughed, again drawing the attention of the entire yard again. Thankfully, they were too far away to hear what we were saying.
“My first serious boyfriend in high school asked if I wanted to play with his joystick,” I volunteered.
“Well, did you?” Abby asked, waggling her brows.
“I wanted to, at least until he called it a joystick. Then, not so much,” I confessed. “Instant turn-off.”
“My grandmother was from England, and she referred to male genitalia as ‘meat and two veg,’” Ella said, using an impressive upper-crust British accent.
“Frank and beans, and twig and berries,” added Molly, grinning mischievously.
“Dingle and the dangle twins,” Camille declared triumphantly, just as the prospect returned with our drinks. The look on his face was priceless as he placed the tray down without looking any of us in the eye, and all but ran away.
Molly blushed and giggled, and I could feel my own cheeks heating as I tried not to laugh. Ella snickered, and Abby ducked her head, but Camille had no such qualms.
“You act like you’ve never heard women talk about dicks before!” Her voice carried across the yard after him, causing every head in the place to turn our way. Again.
A roar of male laughter greeted her comment, and I looked over to see Trick staring at me with a grin on his face.
“Sorry about that, Abby, I forgot to keep it G-rated for the kids,” Camille said.
Abby just grinned and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Everly’s too young to understand, and Ethan’s heard far worse, believe me.”
Molly nudged me, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “Is it just me, or is Trick staring right at you? I heard he’s been trying to flirt with you every chance he gets.”
“Ooh, wait a minute. What have I missed?” Camille asked, and surprisingly, she kept her voice down, too.