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I side-eye him. “Fine.”
“Making my famous Gumbo this week,” he sing-songs. “Know it’s your favorite.”
“When you gonna make one of those beef and bourbon pies we had at the baby’s christening?” I grumble.
“All you gotta do is ask.” He follows my gaze, and then says, “Can see why the view from here is so appealing.”
I sigh. Manny is someone we all tolerate because he’s a fuckin’ good cook. Out of all the brothers, except maybe Nevada, he’s the one always pushing at me and Luna getting together. I know they’re friends and she likes him a lot. That used to make me jealous, especially knowing he’s bi, but Manny knows not to cross me and what it’ll mean if he does.
Still, a little warning never goes astray.
“Don’t let me break all those pretty fingers of yours,” I mutter. “Be a shame to have a prospect take over the kitchen.”
I can almost feel Manny rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t.” He holds out his hands to flutter his painted nails at me.
One hand has black nail polish, the other has black and white with skulls on them.
“You pay for that manicure?”
“You betcha. You can tell a lot by a man and the state of his hands,” he says.
I hold mine out.
He tuts when he sees the calluses and scratches and burn marks. “What do mine say about me?”
“That you work hard…though calluses don’t feel good when you’re…you know, using your fingers for other things.”
“Luna doesn’t seem to mind,” I say.
Yeah, maybe I want him to know so he’ll back off.
He claps his hands together, and I roll my eyes.
“Don’t tell me the big bad wolf has finally seen sense? You know how many dudes eye up your woman when we’re out, how many numbers she’s turned down?”
I glance at him, my nostrils flaring. “You got names? I’ll break every bone in their body and gauge their goddamn eyes out.”
“Ooh.” He grins. “A man with ethos. I like that, T-boy.”
“I’m bein’ serious.”
“Calm your farm. Lucky for them, I don’t have names, but it wouldn’t have been long before one of them caught her eye. Glad it’s you, T. I think you make a cute couple.”
“Cute?” I snort.
“Imagine your kids, aww,” he gushes.
“Don’t want no kids.”
He puts his hands on his hips. “Really? I think Luna does. She’s good with kids, and hey, you didn’t drop Caprice on her head when you held her. That’s gotta count for something.”
Kids?
Kids?
I wait for panic to hit me, and when it doesn’t, I frown.
I glance at my girl as she chatters away to Jas while they get shit set up.
