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“I already said I’d go, but I’m not above a little bribery now and again.”
He smirked. “Good to know.” When he stepped back my body rejected the cool air and the distance now between us. “See you soon, Vivi. Be good.”
“Why would I when it’s so much fun being bad?”
***
“It’s official,” Rocky said giving me one of her infectious laughs. “Any woman who can scare that big cowboy into hiding is my new favorite person.”
Rocky was a sassy redhead who talked like a cheerleader and dressed like a hippie. When I arrived last night she refused to let me wallow in my sullen mood, using compliments and then insults to get me to talk to her. She hadn’t stopped talking since.
“He’s not scared of me, just tired of my bitching. Not that I’m not appreciative of your hospitality or anything because I am. It’s just that, I don’t really stay at people’s houses.”
She blinked big green eyes and sat back, rubbing her belly. “Never? Not even a girlfriend or anything?”
“Nope. I left home when I was a kid and used my computer skills to get an apartment and pay my bills, which meant I didn’t have time for things like girlfriends and sleepovers.” I was glad Rocky didn’t look at me with pity because I hated that.
“So how’d you meet Jag? Lasso said you were his online girlfriend.”
That pulled a laugh out of me. “That’s how he would put it but we were just friends. We met online and talked and chatted. Only online. I met him for the first time now, when I got to Vegas.”
“That’s so cool. I don’t have any friends from Florida. I was too busy helping my dad plan bank robberies.”
Even though I could hear the pain in her voice, the wistfulness for a different, more idyllic childhood, I didn’t pity her. She’d moved past it and made a life for herself.
“Not as cool as it sounds, right?”
“Too right.” She stood and rubbed her belly. “Hungry?”
“Uh yeah, but I’m pretty sure you should be lying in a bed surrounded by pillows. Sit down, I can do it.”
“You cook too?” she said, heading for the kitchen and unloading the refrigerator.
I frowned at the disbelief in her voice. “I can’t cook? I can read instructions and follow them better than anyone. Besides I used to dabble in a bit of chemistry.”
“Just remember I got a pregnant nose.”
I didn’t know what the hell that meant but I stood and stared at all the things Rocky had lined up on the counter. “I take it that you can have all of these things on the counter?”
“Yep.”
I diced mushrooms and onions and peppers, whipped up eggs and slid bacon into the oven. It was a mechanical sort of activity, cooking. The perfect thing to do when I needed to stop thinking and just let my mind work in the background on a solution. “Sorry, I’m not a chatty cooker.”
“That’s okay. Are you really a badass hacker babe? Lasso’s words, not mine.”
Lasso was such a guy’s guy, so alpha yet so well-meaning it was hard to take offense. “I wouldn’t say I’m any of those things. But I do have mad computer skills that I use for good and for evil, but not too evil and only if the price is right.” I shook my head as an ironic laugh bubbled out of me. “And to think, it’s not the shady jobs that sent me on the run. How’d you end up with a cowboy biker?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Actually, it was a one night stand. He was in San Diego for a wedding and I was catering the reception. He was charming and stepped in when a few of my ex’s goons got a bit too handsy. One thing led to another and we had the most amazing night together. Like you, I ran to him when trouble fell in my lap.”
Damn. That was kind of cool but when I thought about what that could possibly mean for me, I froze. “Good for you,” I said uncomfortably.
Like she’d read my mind she breezed on. “It might not happen, but I’m pretty sure it will,” she said with a smug smile. “Lasso’s never seen Jag serious about a girl. A woman, sorry.”
“Jag isn’t serious about me, Rocky. We’re old friends and he’s a good guy who wants to help me out. If anything, he probably feels bad that he ghosted me.” Which was something I needed to keep in mind whenever my thoughts became a little too fanciful.
Rocky gave me a side-eye and said, “I don’t think so, but I can see you’re hardheaded. Plus I’m hardly going to lecture someone who took my weak ass breakfast and turned it into a feast. Me and baby thank you.” She dug in before I could even grab a chair, but I wasn’t judging. Sharing meals with another person was a rarity, so I tried to enjoy it.
“Not a feast. Eat up.”
