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20
“It’s a crime to look so good going to work like that.”
Brick’s gaze sliced up and down as Jezebelle stood near the kitchen counter finishing putting her hair into a weird bun. She kept inserting a thin, long hairpin of some sort, one after another. A nice round bun formed as she did so. He didn’t care what she did with her hair; she was beautiful in any way.
She wore nice trim black pants with comfortable black pumps and a white buttoned T-shirt that fit her way too snugly. He had watched her put on a peach lace bra, so he knew what was underneath that shirt. Before she started her shift at the restaurant, he knew she’d also put on a black vest with the logo of the place imprinted on the left side.
“Oh, stop. I feel frumpy in this thing.”
Yeah, maybe some wouldn’t find her attractive in the getup, but his cock was telling him how hot she looked standing there in her simple work outfit.
Or maybe it was knowing she was his wife and standing there. She was in his home, in his life, and had no plans of going anywhere. They were in it until death do us part.
It had been two weeks since the disastrous wedding party her parents threw for them. Two weeks of radio silence from a woman who didn’t deserve to be the mother of such a wonderful woman. Obviously, she wasn’t sorry for her actions and hurting Jezebelle the way she had. Brick could only assume her silence meant she had given up on molding Jezebelle into someone she didn’t want to be. He was thankful for that.
“Don’t forget, after my shift, I have to go to the theater. There’s a new play in the works and I hope to be on the production for this one. Mia said she’d help me with my lines.”
He slid on his watch and moved closer to her. “I’ll help you with your lines, too.”
A crafty smile lit up her face as she lowered her hands from what he could only assume was the last pin. “We wouldn’t get very far. I can already imagine how it would go.”
He held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Hey, I know how to behave.” Yet the sly smile that emerged said he also knew how to be naughty at the same time.
“I really want this part. I hate not being on stage.”
He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. “You got this. I have faith that it will all work out. If not, there’s the next play and then the next.”
Her head rested on his chest as her arms stretched around him. “You always know what to say. The perfect words all the time.”
Well, that was good to know because he didn’t always feel so confident in himself, especially when it came to her. He never wanted to say the wrong thing.
That’s why in the last two weeks he never brought up the party or her parents. He knew nothing pleasant would come out of his mouth, so it was better not to say anything at all. He wasn’t sure if Jezebelle had written them out of her life for good—he highly suspected that wasn’t the case—but he sensed she was itching to reach out to them. For once in her life, she was waiting for them to do the reaching. For them to see her for her and do the right thing. Just support her in whatever way she chose to go in life. He knew it wasn’t easy for her to stand back and wait, but he was proud of her for standing her ground for once. For not letting her mother walk all over her. So damn proud.
She lifted her head and he planted a kiss before she could escape from his arms. A sultry, intense kiss that spoke of promises for later. Telling her with one smooth move what he wanted to do with her—all night long.
The kiss ended. She slipped from his arms with a dizzy smile.
“A good luck kiss.” He winked.
She grabbed her purse and paused at the door. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
She chuckled and walked out. Laughter erupted from him when he heard a distant voice shout, “I love you most.”
That had been their thing the past two weeks, trying to beat the other person with ‘I love yous.’ It would reach to infinity and beyond. It was moments like that that he cherished. That he couldn’t believe he had been missing out on for so long.
He cleaned the kitchen, straightened the bed—not a complete making of the bed; he wasn’t that kind of person—and used the bathroom before heading downstairs.
The bar opened at ten. He had another hour and a half before it opened. Inventory needed to be done, so he headed for the stockroom with his clipboard.
Dom arrived at nine-thirty, poking his head in before getting things ready up front. The bar generally wasn’t busy in the mornings. A few regulars popped in for a breakfast burrito or egg sandwich. His bar wasn’t only known for a good atmosphere and great liquor, but excellent food as well. When he did things, he made sure to do it right.
When the bar opened, he hung out there for a while, mingling with a few regulars he knew would pop in. He liked shooting the shit with people and creating a friendly ambiance where they would want to keep coming back over and over.
A little before noon he headed back to the stockroom to finish up the inventory. Only a few minutes went by before Dom came in.
“Yo, dude, you have a visitor.”
