Cal shrugged. Haines wanted to see it that way, fuck if Cal cared.
He pushed away from the truck, dropping his arms and turned to the door. He caught sight of Colt as he did it and Colt wasn’t fast enough to hide his smile.
Crazy fuck.
Cal looked back at Haines as he pulled himself up into the cab.
Haines gave him a nod. Cal nodded back, slammed the door, buckled up, hit the ignition and pulled out of the Station.
His phone rang as he drove down Grant. He yanked it out of his back pocket, looked at the screen, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Yo, buddy.”
“Joe.”
Hearing her say his name, he grinned at the windshield.
“That’s who you called, baby.”
“Where are you?”
“In the truck.”
“Okay, but where?”
“On my way to your garden center to buy a dog bed.”
He listened to silence.
This lasted awhile.
Then he called, “Vi?”
“Yeah?”
“Honey, you called me, you actually gonna speak?”
“I, um… need you not to come home, I mean,” she said the last two words quickly then kept talking fast, “to the house for awhile.”
“Why?”
“I’m having an impromptu girl’s afternoon in.”
He’d left her on her belly in bed after making her sit on his face until she came then fucking her until she came again. She didn’t even twitch when he bent in, kissed her neck and whispered in her ear that he’d be back in awhile.
He hadn’t been gone an hour. Now she was having a girl’s afternoon in.
This meant she was going to tell her friends everything which didn’t make him happy because he didn’t like anyone in his business. Then she was going to get shit advice. Then, maybe, she was going to do something stupid.
“Who’s comin’?” he asked.
“Cheryl…” she answered.
Not good, that bitch was hard as nails.
“Feb…” she went on.
That was okay, Feb was cool.
“Dee…” she continued.
Wildcard. Dee Owens called ‘em as she saw ‘em and Cal had no clue how she’d see him.
“Jessie…”
Fuck, Jessie Rourke was a nut.
“Mimi…”
Christ, he’d fucked two of Mimi VanderWal’s close friends.
“And Jackie.”
Cal relaxed.
Jackie Owens was Feb’s Mom, salt of the earth. Even with the rest of the hens in that coup, Jackie’d be the voice of reason and not many people were stupid enough not to listen to Jackie’s reason, including Cheryl Sheckle and Jessie Rourke.
“Then, um… after, I’m goin’ to Mike’s,” Vi said in his ear.
Cal didn’t speak.
“Then, um… we need to talk,” she finished.
“I’ll go into the office after I get the dog bed. If I gotta stay gone, you need me to pick anything up?”
She didn’t answer his question, she asked, “The office?”
“Yeah.”
“What office?”
“My office.”
“You have an office?”
Had he been closed that tight? Christ, he had.
“Yeah, baby, I have an office in town. Got a girl named Lindy, schedules my meetings, my walkthroughs, sends invoices, does the books, arranges travel, orders the equipment if I do the install myself, shit like that.”
“In town? You mean, the ‘burg?”
“Yeah.”
“Lindy?”
“Yeah?”
“She live in town?”
“Avon.”
“Oh.”
“Take you to meet her,” Cal offered.
“That’s okay,” Vi replied quickly.
Cal sighed then let it go and repeated, “You need me to pick anything up?”
She hesitated then repeated, “Pick anything up?”
“Coffee, milk, beer, pick anything up.”
“Groceries?” she breathed, like the concept of groceries was foreign to her.
“Yeah, Vi, unless Armageddon hit while I was fuckin’ you this morning and we missed it, I’m thinkin’ grocery stores still exist and they’re all still stocked.”
He heard her soft giggle before she swallowed it.
His woman, Cal realized, was a nut.
“Vi?” he prompted.
“I don’t drink beer.”
“I do so we need it.”
“Do you have some in your fridge?”
“Buddy, my fridge is at the dump.”
“But wasn’t it a perfectly good fridge?”
“Yeah, but my Dad bought it at Sears thirty years ago so I don’t think Katy and Keirry are gonna dig on it bein’ in the kitchen they design.”
“Oh,” she said in a soft, sweet way he felt in his dick just like when she said his name.
He ignored it and asked, “So we need beer?”
“Um… yeah.”
Christ, that was a long conversation to get down to needing beer.
“Okay, stick with me here, buddy, and concentrate. Do we need anything else?”
“I don’t know, what do you eat?”
“Anything.”
“We don’t have Power Bars or Gatorade or anything like that.”
“Vi, I’m not in training for the Super Bowl.”
“Right,” she whispered.
Cal started laughing.
“What’s funny?” Vi asked over his laughter.
“You are, baby.”
“How’s that?”
“Gatorade?”
“Well, I saw you working out,” she defended herself.
“So I’ll buy water. You got eggs?”
“Yes.”
“Bacon?”
“Yes.”
“Oatmeal?”