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He waved off my gratitude. Larry del Vecchio, much like Chris Raber, who refused to let me take over his case, had a problem with women in positions of authority, and del Vecchio hadn’t returned either of my two calls. So, as much as I despised it, I had to bring in my backup.
“You sounded good,” I said before I thought better of it. “I mean, what you said to him. It was good.”
A self-satisfied smirk curved his lips. “Glad to be of service.”
I shook my head at him and washed out my coffee mug before placing it in the Keurig with a new pod. Dean handed me my creamer. “I can’t go to the gym today.”
“Why not?”
“Gig at Walt’s.”
I folded my arms, hoping my disappointment wasn’t written all over my face. “Again?”
“We have a standing date there. Every third Thursday.”
I nodded. “That’s great.”
He tidied up the counter as if he needed something to do while my coffee finished brewing, and then he slipped his mug into the machine to replace mine. After he had the pod in, he turned back to me. “What are you doing tonight? Pajamas andParent Trap?”
I leaned against the counter, holding my mug in both of my hands. “You got a thing for my pajamas, huh?”
He skimmed his hand down his slate-gray tie. “Yeah. I always figured when you went to bed, you peeled off your human mask to reveal your true form.”
“Which is?”
“A demon.”
“Of course.”
“And demons don’t wear pajamas because they don’t sleep.”
I hid my smile with a sip of coffee. “Of course.”
“So, what are you doing tonight?” he asked, removing his full mug from the Keurig.
“Definitely pajamas and maybe some coloring.”
His brows rose over the rim of his cup, and he coughed on his sip of coffee. After setting it down on the counter, he stepped right in front of me. “You color?”
“Yeah.” I set down my mug too. “It’s really relaxing.” When he bit back a grin, I rolled my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing. You coloring… It’s adorable.”
I shoved at his shoulder, and he caught my wrist. “Why don’t you save your coloring for tomorrow and come to my gig tonight?”
I didn’t fight against his hold on me. Not even when he tugged, forcing me to bend my arm when he pulled me closer to him. “You want me to come to your gig?”
His eyes, his stupid, pretty eyes, completed a circuit of my face, and the way he studied me never failed to make me feel as if he really enjoyed what he was looking at. An obviously practiced action. No doubt the reason he had so much luck with women. “Sure. Why not? You need to learn how to live, Nov.”
“Like you?” I said, finally breaking free of his light grasp. I shifted away from him, keeping my hands behind my back. “You want me to get drunk and pick up underage girls?”
His hand landed on the counter, right next to my hip. “I can’t help but point out how you keep harping on all these girls you think I’m hooking up with. I haven’t been with someone in months.”
I shouldn’t have been happy about that. I had no right. Especially when I had been with Ace in December. Although, I would have rather erased that from memory. But this wasn’t a game, and I didn’t care about notches on his bedpost. Just like he didn’t care about mine.
At least, I didn’t think he did.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” I mused. “I did notice the bartender there was pretty cute.”
