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Snorting, I caught her hand and pulled her along behind me to where they were standing.
“Been a while since I saw you here,” Mace mused once we reached him. “Last time, it was when you and your brothers got the matching Egyptian scarab tattoos under your necks.”
“Those are badass,” DB said as he looked at mine, which was just visible over the V of my t-shirt’s neckline. “Didn’t Jarrod need to get his done separately?”
“Yeah, he was in Jamaica with Katy when we had them done,” I explained, just as Reid piped up, “He wasn’t cool enough to sit with us.”
Hearing something off in my little brother’s tone, I frowned when I saw how strained his smile was.
“You okay?”
“Mrs. Gallagher told me a guest is coming into town sooner than we realized.”
Oh, hell. Ryanne being here was going to send Reid into a spin mentally and emotionally. The fact it was happening sooner than we’d thought didn’t really give him the time to prepare mentally and emotionally, either.
Not wanting to question him in front of everyone else, I gave him a nod and mouthed, “Two o’clock.”
One side of his mouth tipped up in acknowledgment, and then he blinked and smiled widely at Jacinda. “So, are y’all coming for couple’s tattoos, or what?”
I was hoping she’d think up a good enough excuse for these assholes to leave, but that’s not what happened.
“No, your brother’s going to mangle his dangle.” At their confused expressions, she sighed. “Slama-lama-ding-his-dong.”
“You… what?” DB asked, looking at me like he expected me to explain it.
I had zero intentions of opening my mouth and wished Jacinda would do the same.
“Jesus Christ his Superstar,” she tried.
Again, when none of them got it, she threw her arms up. “He’s getting bajangled? Making his prince charming?”
“I own this place, and even I’m confused,” Mace muttered, watching Jacinda like she was a science experiment doing something he’d never considered possible.
I knew my grin was sinister, but the analogy that’d just hit me would do just fine. “Jacinda got a Queen Elizabeth, and Monroe’d her chooch, so I’m getting a Prince Albert to match.”
Garrett and Raoul’s eyes widened as they took a step back, and the others just stared at me in shock.
If I’d have known how painful it’d be to have it done, I wouldn’t have been so cocky. I also wouldn’t have divulged it to them because then they wouldn’t have been there to hear me scream.
Which I did. Loudly!
“Laugh it up, fuckers,” I groaned, sorely tempted to take off my pants and underwear.
My desk was covering me, that was enough, wasn’t it?
“Don’t even think about it,” Bond chuckled. “If someone walks in, they could sue us for sexual harassment in the workplace.”
“And we don’t want to see it, either,” Reid added.
“I don’t want to see his junk,” Jarrod rumbled with a shrug. “But I’m intrigued about what the piercing looks like.”
“Then go and get it done yourself or look it up online,” I snapped, finally giving up and pushing away from my desk so I could widen my legs. “Fuck, that didn’t help at all. Can one of y’all get me an ice pack? Maybe we could call Mrs. G for some more brownies? Can you ask if she could add more of her medicine to them this time?”
Who the hell did this more than once? In fact, who came up with this shit? A masochist, that’s who.
“So, now that you’ve got matching promise rings,” the one quiet member of the group today, Cason, said as he colored in a picture in one of Nemi’s books. “What happens next?”
I didn’t judge him for taking advantage of our niece’s coloring books, and neither did Bond, Reid, or Jarrod. We’d all taken turns on them, and there was something incredibly soothing about coloring in a squirrel or a puppy. Don’t even get me started on the fairy tale ones with the castles and flags.
Bond looked intrigued by Cason’s question. “Yeah, are y’all getting married?”
Were we? Did what we’d done count as a proposal?
I also couldn’t help but notice that none of them were taking out their phones to contact Mrs. G. I knew for a fact I didn’t have her number, so this didn’t bode well for me getting the brownie painkillers I needed so badly.
Maybe she was in the phonebook? Did we even have a local phonebook?
“That might be a bit awkward when they tell their kids how it happened,” Reid snickered, not realizing how much of his foot he was sticking in his mouth.
Here’s the thing: I really would take Jacinda any way she came. Three hundred pounds, covered in hairy moles, missing half her teeth, and a shaved head still wouldn’t put me off her. Something about her called to me in a way that I couldn’t understand and didn’t want to fight against.
