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Oh, she sure as fuck would. “I have ways of getting what I want, Mo.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” She didn’t sound happy about it, but I let that remark go. For now.
I had plans for how I wanted this weekend to go, including the fact that Mo had no idea I planned to keep her for the next few days. Now that Sadie was safe at home where she belonged, I could count on Terry and Virgil and the guys to keep her safe while I sorted out a few things.
“You get to pick the movie.”
“Must be my birthday,” she mumbled under her breath.
I had the urge to make things right with Mo. It felt right. I had no clue why, only that it did. Maybe it was her honesty or her easy-going nature. She was carrying my baby, and I wanted her. Like no woman before. I really wanted this to work out.
“Feel free to wear your birthday suit to dinner and a movie, then.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Mo would take up a challenge like that with her usual sensual confidence, but when I stepped inside the entertainment room, all I saw was a heart-shaped ass.
“Damn, Maureen,” I growled.
She stood up and looked over her shoulder, highlighting her hour-glass figure for a hot second. Then, she turned, and I didn’t just regret loading my arms with food; I resented the hell out of that food.
She wasn’t fully naked. No, it was better than that. She wore nothing but a pink thong that matched the color of her nipples. Big, beautiful tits stared at me, nipples hard and begging for my mouth, waist nipped in before flaring out into hips that I ached to grab on to while I slid into her from behind.
“Jasper,” she groaned. “That smells incredible.”
Then, as if she had no idea just how tempting, how fucking gorgeous she was, Mo strolled across the room and relieved me of some of the food I carried. “I got it.”
“And now, so do I.” She grabbed the bowl of biscuits, the small plate with corn on the cob and the big plate stacked with ribs.
“Professional waitress, remember?” She balanced the plates expertly, or at least I think she did. I couldn’t focus on anything except the sway of her hips, the curve of her ass. Mo patted the sofa right in front of the big screen. “Come. Sit.”
Normally, I would have bristled at her command, at anyone’s command, but this time my feet started to move, and the next thing I knew, I sat beside Mo, thighs and arms brushing as we enjoyed the barbecue feast in front of us while some shitty gangster movie played.
“You know this is all bullshit, right?”
Mo looked over at me, a smudge of barbecue sauce lingering on the corner of her mouth. “What?”
“This movie. They got just about everything wrong.”
She shrugged, a teasing smile on her lips.
“I don’t know. They seem to get some things right. The family loyalty. The pain in the ass federal agent. The guns. The girls. The asshole older brother.”
I almost spit out my food. “Easy details to figure out, but the stuff that matters? Bullshit.”
“Yeah?” She folded her arms and leaned back against the sofa, gasping softly when I slid over and wrapped an arm around her. “How so?”
“For starters,” I said, aroused by her perfume and the silky feel of her skin, “you never do shit in a room full of people. Not even if they’re your people.”
I didn’t watch much TV or movies, didn’t have the time and when I did, I preferred to lose myself in a woman, drink with my brothers. I nuzzled her neck before I added, “But not for the reasons you think.”
Her brows arched in skepticism. “And how do you know what I think?”
Because I know you. “It’s written all over your face. You think I don’t trust my own damn people.”
“Wrong.”
She laughed out loud, tits jiggling as her body shook with laughter when I returned her skeptical look.
“You trust who you trust,” she said, shrugging as if the answer was obvious. “Sadie, Virgil, and Terry. You trust Kat to do whatever she does for the family, but that’s it.” She flashed a satisfied smile when I didn’t deny it. “But you wouldn’t shoot someone in a room full of people for one reason.”
“And that is?” I was getting hard listening to her. From her sexy curves or her sharp mind?
“You’re a control freak, and even in Midnight Mass, you don’t always know every single person in the place. You can’t track down and pay off—among other things—if you aren’t dead certain who’s in the room. And with all the vacationers, you can’t even begin to know who they are.”
“Smartass,” I grumbled, but I was damned impressed with her.
