***
“Ohhhh, Tucker. I love what you’ve done with the place,” Racer coos in womanly voice, holding a pack of beer to his chest, acting like an idiot.
“Just get the fuck inside.” I grab his shirt and yank him in the door. Smalls follows in behind him. “You two are late.”
“Smalls forgot to put deodorant on. We had to stop at Price Chopper so princess could smell like a ship sailing into bay.”
Smalls moves past me and says, “It’s actually Swagger Red Zone scent.” He lifts his arm in my face and asks, “Want to take a sniff?”
Scrambling with his arm, I push him away and say, “Christ, no. Just get in the fucking house.”
I shut the door behind us and turn to see Smalls and Racer both taking in the empty space. “Wow, man. Going for the minimalist look?” He turns to me and gives me a thumbs up. “Nailing it.”
I push past both of them and turn around so my voice doesn’t carry through the empty house. “They’re in Emma’s room right now doing a little bit of studying. Don’t be assholes, don’t hit on Emma, and for the love of Christ, don’t take off your pants at any point in time.”
“We’re not fucking untrained dogs about to pull out our wild whizzers and piss all over your walls,” Racer protests.
“Speak for yourself.” Smalls starts to unbuckle his pants. “I haven’t had a good piss on a wall in a long time and these plain Janes are calling my name.”
Giving him the death glare, I whack his hands away from unzipping his jeans. “I’m not fucking kidding. Behave yourselves or else I’m putting you on dumpster duty for the next month.”
“Settle down.” Racer pats my shoulder, a fucking twinkle in his eyes I don’t appreciate. “We’re going to be on our best behavior. Now, are you going to give us the grand tour?”
Taking a deep breath, I concede, giving them the nickel tour, scratch that, I give them the penny tour. “Living room, dining room, kitchen is through that door, bathroom is right there along with Emma’s room; upstairs is my bedroom and the room off to the left is off limits.” Growing serious, my voice lower, I say, “Don’t ask to go in there. Got it?”
Either from the tone of my voice, or the look in my eyes, they both nod in understanding. We may give each other a hard time whenever we get the chance but when it matters, we understand one another.
Emma’s door opens and she filters out, bringing her girly scent with her. “I thought I heard voices.” Adorably she waves and holds her hand out to Racer. “Hi, I’m Emma.” Racer gives her a quick once-over before stepping forward to take her hand.
“Racer, nice to meet you, darling.” From his term of endearment, Racer winks at me. Fucker. He’s always been a big flirt.
Emma turns to Smalls and her eyes widen slightly from his intimidating size. “Emma, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Aaron, but everyone calls me Smalls.”
She takes his hand and then laughs. “Yeah, because that nickname really suits you.” Turning to me, she claps her hands and says, “Are we ready to make some goulash?” Shit, she is cute.
“Pasta is cooking as we speak. We just need to brown the meat and dump the sauce in.”
“Lovely. Logan is finishing up on a chapter and then he’ll be out here. Boys, why don’t you make yourself at home.” She gestures to the dining room table that I added a few chairs to and then grabs my hand and leads me to the kitchen.
Whispering under her breath, she leans close to me and says, “That Aaron guy is huge. Does he use his fist as a hammer at work?”
“Only on Fridays.” I wink and pull out the pan for the meat.
“Seriously he’s—”
“Do you have a bottle opener?” Smalls asks, making a motion with his hand. “The beer isn’t a twisty top.”
I pull the bottle opener magnet off the fridge and toss it at Smalls. “Beer shouldn’t have twisty tops, dude.”
“They’re easier,” he mumbles and walks out of the kitchen.
Face bright red, Emma buries her head in my back and says, “Oh my God, he almost heard me talking about him. How embarrassing.”
I chuckle and put the beef in the pan. “He wouldn’t have cared. Probably would have loved to hear how big you think he is.”
“Still, ahh, he’s huge.”
Pulling her from behind me, I put her in front of the stove with a wooden spoon and lean down to her ear. “If you keep talking about how big Smalls is, you’re going to give me a complex.”
I start toward the basement door when Emma asks, “Hey, where are you going?”
“To do some bench pressing, lift some weights, bulk up so I can keep up.”
Laughing, she pulls me back toward the stove. “Oh stop. You know you’re a beefcake.”
From behind her, I lean over her shoulder and help her stir the beef, loving how unexpectedly easy it feels with her again. It’s all Emma, though. I know I’m a stubborn shit. “Beefcake, huh? I’m going to have to put that on my résumé right next to DJ Hot Cock.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she mutters and shakes her head.
I step away and open the fridge. “Thirsty? I can offer you a beer or make you a drink.”
“Water is fine.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Water won’t do, Emma. Rule number one.”
“Man, you’re a stickler with these rules.”
“You bet your pretty little ass I am.” Her face immediately blushes sending a surge of pride to my chest. Odd, never thought causing Emma to so innocently blush would affect me, but I guess I was wrong. “Now what will it be? Beer or should I make you an Old Fashioned?”
Turning away from the meat, she considers her options. “Hmm, let’s go with the Old Fashioned.”
“That’s my girl. Two Old Fashioneds coming up.” Knowing I should be a good person even though I don’t want to, I ask, “Do you think Logan will want one as well?”
“Want what?” His voice trails into the kitchen, pulling my gaze to the doorway. He’s wearing jeans, a Binghamton University T-shirt, and for some unknown reason, just his presence in this moment with Emma annoys me.
Pushing my feelings aside, I say, “I’m making Emma an Old Fashioned. Want one? Or a beer?”
“Ah, no drinking for me. Just water. We still have some studying to do, right, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
Sounds like fucking rusty gears grinding coming from his mouth.
Answering for Emma, even though I know she should and can talk for herself, I say, “Emma is done studying for the night. She promised me one night a week free of studying, just relaxing, and that’s tonight.”
The look on Logan’s face doesn’t read happy or even pleased. He glances at Emma who is happily smiling and nodding.
“It’s rule number one.” She shrugs as if it’s common sense that Logan should know this and starts pushing the beef around in the pan again.
“Uh, okay. I guess I’ll take a beer then.”
I reach into the fridge and gently toss him a bottle of mine, knowing Racer is not keen on sharing with strangers. “Bottle opener is in the dining room with my buds. Dinner will be ready soon.” And with that, I dismiss him.