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Rocky grins. “I’m gonna enjoy watching you getting led around by your dick for a change, but we’re not gonna find Figaro this early in the day.”
I start pacing, trying to think of a solution to this mess. “You and Red could handle it without me.”
Rocky shakes his head like I’ve got shit for brains. “Hangman ain’t too happy with you right now, so my advice is not to piss him off. You know he’ll jump you.”
“Evanee’s worth it,” I declare.
“You’re nasty enough already. You want Evanee to see you full-blown ugly?”
“This is shit!” I yell. “He’s fuckin’ doing this on purpose.”
Rocky grins as he heads for the door. “Figure it out asshole. I say we head out at eleven.”
When I call Evanee to tell her I’m gonna be tied up tonight, there’s no pissiness in her voice when she asks, “Why?”
I don’t want to start our relationship with a lie, so I tell her the truth.
There’s a momentary lapse and then she says sweetly, “I totally understand, sexy. If I had a pet emergency, I’d have to do the same.”
I’ve hit the fuckin’ jackpot with her. Too soon to say I love you, so instead I say, “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”
“Why not go on the date as planned? You know, just dinner, then after you’ve finished your meeting with your snitch, you can come over for coffee.”
That gets my curiosity goin’. “Where’s home exactly?”
There’s a pause. “Maybe I should come over to your place.”
Fuck. “Evanee, I don’t have a place. I stay at the clubhouse.” I think of other options. There’s a bedroom in a back room at Hook’s, but I’m not sure the strip club is a good idea for a first date.
Dick’s Picks has possibilities because it’s as five-star as it gets. Still, it is a brothel, and I don’t know Evanee well enough to know how she’s gonna take it. Shawshank, the nearby hotel, won’t have a free room – Saturday nights are usually booked up.
“This is a problem.” She’s clearly thinkin’ so I let her. “How about over dinner, we can discuss where we can go for coffee.”
“You’re better than a cold beer on a hot Sunday.” I wince inwardly. My kind of charm might work on the passarounds, but with Evanee, I’m gonna need some new material.
She doesn’t seem to take offence. “And you’re like a hot fudge Sundae after a hard workout.”
I don’t exactly get what she means, but it don’t make me less happy when I hang up the phone.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Evanee
When I was a teenager, I’d agonize over a first date. What to wear, how to do my hair and what color to paint my nails. I’d rehearse how I was going to say hello, what I would talk about. I’d even kiss my pillow in hopes that we’d make out.
I quickly grew out of those insecurities, mostly because I realized that boys didn’t really indulge in that kind of preparation, but also because I decided that they were the lucky ones for dating me and they could take me or leave me.
Most of them chose the former.
But with Trigger, those familiar teenage feelings come back. Both of my previous meetings with tall, tanned, and sexy were serendipitous and what I was wearing was what he was seeing. For our first date, I want to be breathtaking.
“How do I look?” I ask Wendy as I stand in front of her in Saint Laurent black glazed-leather boots and an Ena Pelly matching leather jacket. The skirt I was wearing last time Trigger and I met was a little too tight for riding on the back of a bike, so the flare from the pleated denim skirt I’m wearing tonight will have enough give to straddle the bike seat. The problem is that it’s so tight across my backside that I have to wear a seamless thong. I’m not really a thong kind of girl, but this is an emergency. Hopefully, Trigger will appreciate my compromise.
“Great, hon, like always,” she rasps.
The roar of a bike tells me my date has arrived right on time. I’m relieved that he brought his Harley, because if he showed up in a vehicle, then the skirt would be a fail.
“Hey,” I say as he struts through the door of the clinic looking like the sexy confident man he is. My butterflies can’t help but respond to his fineness.
