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“Why do you even own a shirt with pineapples on it?”
“It was my grandfather’s.”
“As heirlooms you want to hang on to go, this wouldn’t have been my first choice. Maybe a Jaguar or a ring or something would be okay, but that’s one hundred percent polyester.”
“I have a picture of him wearing this shirt in Fiji the year I was born.”
“It’s very . . . orange. Why orange for pineapples?”
Will took the shirt off and started rooting through his closet for something more appropriate. He’d been trying to go for friendly and approachable, but maybe he’d gone too far.
“Where’s Grant?” Dex asked. “I can’t believe he’s not here mocking you for all of this. He’s being remiss in his duties as a younger brother. It’s a good thing I’m here to pick up the slack, or you might have actually gone out like that.”
He chose a tailored gray shirt and black pants and threw those on instead. As he buttoned the shirt, he could see Dex’s reflection in the mirror. She was nodding in approval.
“Much better. I no longer feel like you’re going to try to sell me a Ford Festiva . . . low miles . . . owned by a nun who never drove faster than ten miles an hour, and only on Sundays.”
“Isn’t Sunday supposed to be a day of rest?”
“What could be more relaxing than driving a Ford Festiva around New York?”
“I don’t know. Trying to park it in New York?”
“I guess if you’re going to park anything in New York, either that or a smart car would be my first choice. Or a motorcycle. Frankly, I’d rather take the train.”
“So is that your plan? You’re going to take the train to the restaurant we’re going to tonight and then spy on me as I trip all over myself trying to offer her a collar?”
“Should I spy on your silly daddy tonight?” Dex asked Beau, who was looking drowsy. “I so would if I had time, but I have a hot date with a sadist who’s into wax.”
“Who is it this time?”
“The Norwegians are in town for a show. Rune is going to swing by and torture me for a bit.”
“Careful. I hear they like to share.
”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” She gave him her feral cat’s grin. Cat in heat, more like.
“Hey, do you know who Grant is going so ape shit over?”
She arched a brow. “He’s going ape shit over someone? Weird. I’m not sure what’s going on with him lately, but every time we hang out together he’s fucking bitchy. It sucks. He’s busy. You’re busy. Who’s going to keep me out of trouble when I’m not working?”
“Maybe it’s time you find yourself a nice Dominant and settle down.” His suggestion had the expected response. She made a gagging noise, which briefly startled Beau out of the light slumber she’d fallen into.
“Now, why on earth would I want to go and ruin my own good time? You and I both know I’m far too bratty for a full-time Dominant to put up with me. And I’m having far too much fun to want someone stomping around behind me glaring every time I want to cut loose a little. I work damn hard. The last thing I want to do is come home to a guy who expects to be waited on hand and foot.”
“They’re not all like that you know, Dex. Some Dominants do have a sense of humor.”
“Tell that to your brother. The other day he actually lectured me for smacking the Dominant I was playing with on the ass. Grant wasn’t even involved in the scene. He had no business intervening, but he’s been watching me like a hawk lately. I don’t need a keeper. Never have.”
“Weird.”
“Very.”
“Have you told him to back off?”
“Of course! He just keeps brooding and skulking around, like I’m pissing him off and giving the club a bad name. I miss the old Grant. Thank God you haven’t turned on me too. I have no idea what I’d do if you’d both turned into boring asshats.”
