His smile said everything. His wink told her he’d see her later.
When Luke walked out the door, Zoe curled up and hugged a lacy pillow. She couldn’t remember being this happy.
Chapter Thirty
Ziggy held out his hand the minute Sheryl walked in the door. “You’re late.”
“It was busy. Took time for the place to clear out.”
Once again, the smell of hamburger and french fry grease followed Sheryl around like a cloud. Felt like he was screwing a grease pit lately.
He snapped his fingers until she pulled a wad of bills from her purse and placed it in his hand. It amazed even him how quickly she fell back into her role.
He dug through the one-dollar bills to find the larger notes. “This is it?”
“It’s the same as always.”
He counted it again. “You said it was busy.”
“Everyone came in late.”
He took a swig out of his water bottle. Damn thing was almost empty.
“Late, huh?”
Sheryl’s skinny ass moved into the kitchen. Ziggy looked her up and down, settled on her face. “Well, maybe if you wore a little makeup and tried to smile, you’d make more tips.”
“Nobody in this town cares if I have makeup on.”
He thought about how makeup and a dress could transform a woman. It could take a bitch cop and make her fuckable.
“You telling me I don’t know what I’m talking about?” His hand tapped on his knee.
She stopped moving dishes around and looked up. “No. No, Ziggy. I just . . .” she stuttered. “I’ve been in Sam’s for twenty years. None of ’em care if I have on blush is all.”
He stood, real calm . . . and walked into the kitchen. His chest hurt with the pounding he felt in his veins. Go for the hair. No bruises. He twisted the pan Sheryl had in her hand away and set it in the sink.
“This needs to get clean.”
“Uh-huh.”
He took her elbow nice and easy.
“Ziggy, let me finish this first.”
Poor woman thought he wanted her naked.
With careful ease, he inched his hand up her arm and to the back of her neck. When he grabbed a scruff of hair and pulled, she cried out.
“We need more money ’round here. And if I say you put on makeup, you put on makeup.”
He pulled until she stumbled back and her knees started to give. His arms felt the power of her surrender. His cock decided maybe it wanted to screw after all.
Holding his scrawny wife in one hand, he pulled her out of the kitchen, through the living room, and into the only bathroom. He slammed his hand on the light, let adrenaline fuel his lesson. A cosmetic bag sat on the counter. He poured everything inside into the sink. With one hand, he managed to remove the top of a lipstick.
Sheryl held his hand to keep him from taking part of her scalp.
“Lipstick makes men think of blow jobs.” He pushed the lipstick onto her lips, leaving a clump on one of her bottom teeth. He tossed the stuff back in the sink and grabbed a black tube.
“Ziggy, stop.”
Using his teeth, he opened the mascara. Sheryl closed her eyes as he scraped it over her eyelids.
She cried and he tugged harder.
“Yeah . . . I like that.” He rubbed against her hip, let her know what the makeup did for him.
The door to Zanya’s room opened.
Ziggy pulled Sheryl all the way into the bathroom and slammed the door.
He dropped the makeup, put both hands in her hair and his lips close to her ear. “You say my name, real slow. Ziggy baby.”
He pulled her harder. “Ziggy. Baby.”
He knew his daughter sat on the other side of the door, listening.
“Yeah, baby,” he moaned, watching the door. “Moan!”
She didn’t move fast enough. When he pulled, she moaned enough to sound like he was giving it to her.
“Not so loud,” he said with a forced laugh. “Our baby will know how much you like it.”
The sound of Zanya’s door closing was like walking past a cop with a jacket full of dope. He turned his attention to Sheryl.
With a smile, he pushed her to her knees in front of him and opened the fly of his jeans.
The dinner party was at Wyatt and Mel’s house.
“You know Mel can’t cook,” she told Luke as they walked the few blocks it took to get there. It wasn’t raining, and since they planned on drinking, they decided to enjoy the warm September night.
“I know she’s been poring over cookbooks ever since you announced you were writing one.”
“Oh, has she cooked for you before?”
Luke cringed. “Lord, no . . . Wyatt has to be the guinea pig for that mess.”
She lifted the bottle of wine she had in her hand and tapped it on the one in his. “We’ll be fine.”
Jo’s squad car sat parked across the street, and Miss Gina was just pulling into the drive.
Zoe couldn’t help but wonder if Miss Gina owned something other than a floor-length skirt.
Miss Gina eyed the wine in their hands. “Oh, thank God.” She lifted her hand to show a jug of what Zoe had to guess was the famous hard lemonade.
“Open container, Miss Gina? That’s naughty of you.”
“Pft.” She slammed the door to the throwback sixties VW van and headed for the door. “I have connections at the top.”
Wyatt was a general contractor, and it showed in the work he’d put into his home. Mel greeted them at the door, all smiles, and Zoe had to admit, good smells came from the kitchen.
“I’m waiting to smell burnt,” Miss Gina said right off.
Mel slapped the woman’s shoulder and took the lemonade from her hand. “Do you want this or wine?”
“Or beer?” Wyatt asked from the living room.
“I’ll take a beer.” Luke lifted a hand.
Jo held Hope’s hand as they drifted from a hallway.
“Auntie Zoe!” Hope pulled away and hugged her.
“What? No love for me?” Luke opened his arms.
“Oh, Uncle Luke.” Hope shared the love.
Zoe followed Mel into the state-of-the-art kitchen and ran a hand over the edge of the oven. “Nice digs, Mel.”
“Wyatt did all of it. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Stone countertops, stainless steel appliances, downlighting from under the cabinets. “The wine fridge is perfect there.” A well thought out wedding gift, she thought with a grin.
“Yeah, he’d planned the space for a beer tap. Can you imagine?”
Zoe almost choked.
Luke clearing his throat from the doorway had her standing taller.
“Let me open this.” Mel took the wine from Zoe’s hand.
Luke slid closer, took the bottle opener off the counter. He moved close, whispered, “Christmas present.”
Zoe fluttered her lashes a few times and blew him off with a smile.
Luke kissed her without invitation and then left them alone in the kitchen.
“Do you have any idea how great that is to see?”
“I know how great it is to feel.”
Mel offered a one-arm hug and continued opening the wine.
Marinated chicken, just slightly overdone, steamed vegetables, and brown rice that needed another twenty minutes to cook. Zoe had to hand it to her nonculinary friend. “I’m impressed,” Zoe said after the first few bites.
Poor Mel looked nervous. “The rice isn’t cooked enough.”
“I like it, Mommy.”