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“We’re not driving up for a family dinner.” Screw that. The only apology Brick wanted to hear was from the she-devil herself.
“I meant here. At your place. With your permission, of course.”
Hmm. Brick couldn’t tell if this was another game they were playing or not. He was leaning toward not because it was her father requesting it and not her mother. The fact they were coming to Jezebelle and not making her come to them was a good sign.
“She works until five and then is heading to the theater to run some lines with Mia. We can do dinner at eight.”
If they were going to do this, it would be on Brick’s terms, not theirs. He wasn’t about to let them screw her schedule just to make it easier on them.
Stan nodded. “That works for us.”
Brick turned around, sensing someone behind him. He smiled at Dom and took the plate of food from him. He set it down in front of Stan.
“If you two say something I don’t like to Jezebelle, I’ll kick you out of my home. Nobody will hurt her again if I have anything to say about it, and that includes her parents. She doesn’t deserve that kind of pain. You have a problem with that, then don’t bother coming tonight.”
Stan picked up a burrito. “Understood.”
Brick crossed his arms again. Hmm. That seemed a little too easy. He wasn’t sure what to think about this guy.
Stan took a bite, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “I’m not the bad guy here, Brick. My wife isn’t either. She…well, it’s hard to explain why she does the things she does. I may not be happy with how things have turned out, this relationship you have with Jezebelle going so fast, but I know you’re good for her. I know you love her. That’s all I want. I swear.”
He took another bite, glee filling his eyes as he chewed.
Brick was starting to believe him. Apparently, her father had a good heart. It was her mother Brick had to worry about tonight.
“Burrito’s on the house. Eight o’clock. Don’t be late. I have inventory to finish.”
Then he walked away, not caring how rude it might’ve appeared. He had to mentally prepare for war.
Because that’s how tonight felt. The last stand. The last battle before the war would officially be over.
Who would be the winner?
* * *
Jezebelle tookthe offered glass of water from Brick and smiled. Taking the drink meant she couldn’t keep running her hands down her dress, which she assumed was his plan all along given the endearing smile on his face.
She downed half the glass before setting it on the counter and then took a seat on the stool.
“We don’t have to do this. I should’ve talked to you about it before I said yes to your father.”
She fiddled with the bottom of the glass. “It’s okay. I’m curious what they’ll say. I’ve talked to Sophia since the party, but not a word from my parents.”
He stirred the contents in the crockpot. “How did rehearsals go with Mia?”
Her lips widened as the glee flew through her. “So good. This part is amazing. I’m trying for the lead, which will be hard to get, but the main character has so many personality traits, it’s going to be so much fun. It’ll be a challenge, and those are my favorite kind of parts.”
“You’ll get it because you’re that good.”
She wished she could believe that and have as much faith as he had in her. But she couldn’t. The last part she tried out for—not even a lead part—she didn’t get. Why would this be any different?
“Get that discouraging look off your face. You got this.”
Just one of the many reasons she loved this man. Why he made it so easy to love—his wonderful confidence and encouragement he gave so freely.
She eyed the crockpot as he made another round of stirring. “Interesting choice for a meal tonight.”
Brick grinned. A wicked grin that made her laugh. “It was a busy day in the bar. I wouldn’t have had time to cook anything else. Crockpot meals are the best.”
