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“Tired?”
“Uh-huh.” She wraps her hands around my neck.
“Sore?”
She looks up at me and nods her head.
“I like that you’re still feeling me, Livi. I like it a lot.”
“I bet you do.” She nuzzles in again. “They’re gonna move him in a couple days.”
“I heard. You good with that?”
“I am. It’s a nice place. If everything goes well, he’ll be able to live unassisted. They’re hopeful.”
“If things don’t go perfect, Livi, we’ll figure it out together.” I grab her hand from behind my neck, link our fingers, and then kiss her knuckles. “Together.”
By the end of the week, we are back in Detroit, and as grateful as I am that my brothers stepped up, they left a fucking mess. Livi has the day off, yet she comes in with me even though I all but insist she stay home. Still, I love having this hot, little ass attached to me.
I try to act like it is no big thing, but she is all wide-eyed when she looks around.
“You okay?” she asks as she rubs my back.
“Yeah,” I lie.
“Let’s get this place cleaned up. I know it’s gotta be bugging you since it’s bugging me.”
“Go rest. You’re bleeding and shit. Gotta be tired.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.” She giggles with a snort.
“I can’t believe you won’t let me touch it,” I say as I reach down and rub between her legs.
“I think you’ll make it.” She steps back, shaking her head.
I grab her and pull her closer. “You’ve been taking care of me, but, Livi, I am jonesin’ to bury my tongue—”
“Welcome back,” Morrison interrupts, walking out of the back, shirtless and buttoning his pants. “How’s your old man?” He walks up to Livi and pulls her into a big bear hug, hiding her face against his chest as he nods his head. Then, while two chicks come sneaking out of the back and beeline it to the door, he gives me a wink, and I shake my head.
When he finally lets go of Livi, she looks at me, and I merely shrug and roll my eyes.
“Things are fine,” she says, stepping back. “But this place is trashed.” She gives him a look, one like our momma used to give us when we fucked up.
He’s caught off guard. “Well, I…”
“You should have had them two”—she points to the door—“help you clean up instead of making them sneak out.”
His jaw drops, and he runs his hand through his hair. “They, um, they were too drunk to drive?”
I want to bust up laughing. Morrison is never at a loss for words, and Livi is being all badass, not even rubbing that ass. I am fucking starving for her now.
As he clears his throat and looks at her, I see his eyes. I know shit is about to get funky.
“Babe, they couldn’t even walk straight, so how do you expect them to clean up?”
“They looked to be walking just fine.” She laughs as she bends over to pick up a bottle. She hands it to him. “Someday, you’ll be able to handle one all by yourself.”
“What?” He grins.
“I just don’t understand why you needed the other chick to help you out,” she says, tossing it out over her shoulder as she walks past him. She looks at me and smiles. “I’m going in the kitchen.”
“Where all women belong,” Morrison yells to her.
What does my little, sexy badass do? She flips him off and keeps on walkin’.
Morrison looks at me. “I liked her better before you two took off.”
“Yeah, well, I love that one in there, so you better behave.” I chuckle as I walk around the bar.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Morrison gasps.
“You heard me. Now grab a broom and a bag, and let’s get this place cleaned up before I flip my shit.”
“So, is she…?” He gestures a big belly.
“Nah.” I shake my head.
“And you still”—he cringes—“L-word her?”
“Shut the fuck up and clean.”
By noon, the place is clean. Livi is yawning, so I send her fine, little ass home. For the rest of the day and night, it isn’t busy, but it is steady. Some of the locals even ask where she is. It’s a mind fuck. They like her, too, and they better, ‘cause if I have it my way, she’ll be a permanent fixture soon.
At midnight, the place is a ghost town. Normally, I would hang out and listen to tunes, but the only tune I want to hear right now is the little, sleepy sounds Livi makes when she sleeps.
I am getting ready to turn out the beer lights when I see Jagger hobbling out of a cab. He stumbles to the door as I swing it open.
“What the fuck happened to you?” His eyes are swollen shut, his face gashed, and I know he needs stitches.
“Same shit, different day, man.”
