Big Shot(21)
As the four of them headed back down to the basement, Wes’s intuition told him not to trust Natalie, but how badly could someone screw up a pizza order?
Pretty f*cking badly, he learned a half an hour later as she brought down the delivery boxes, set them on a side table with paper plates and napkins, and opened up the lids to reveal two of the grossest combinations of pizza toppings he could ever imagine.
She gasped and did a hell of a job rounding her eyes in shock as she looked at the pies. “Oh, my God, they totally got my order all wrong! I said pepperoni and mushrooms, not extra anchovies! And this one that has nothing but pineapple and jalape?os on it should have been a BBQ chicken supreme!”
Wes wanted to call bullshit so badly but managed to bite his tongue.
Kyle wrinkled his nose as he caught the strong scent of fish wafting in the air, since the ratio of pepperoni to anchovies was skewed toward the slimy-looking bait. “Okay, that’s just disgusting.”
“It’s not that bad,” she disagreed to the four men standing around the table, none of them wanting to be the first to sample the offensive pizzas. “Just pick off the anchovies the best you can, and you never know, pineapple and jalape?os might be an awesome combination.”
“Oh, come on, Natalie,” Connor groaned in frustration. “I get that you’re screwing with Wes for making you be the maid tonight, but why do we have to suffer, too?”
“Finally someone else is catching on to her antics,” Wes said, tossing his hands in the air.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Natalie batted those long lashes at him and spun around to head toward the stairs. “I’ll go get you all a round of cold beers to go with your pizza.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need it to wash down the nasty taste of anchovies,” Kyle called after her.
All four of them remained where they were standing, staring at the pizza with varying degrees of apprehension, none of them eager to be the first to dive into this new culinary experience.
The loud, obnoxious grumble of Kyle’s stomach forced the other man to make a decision. He swore beneath his breath, picked up a plate, and grabbed a slice of each pizza. The repulsive look on Kyle’s face was comical but reflective of how all of them felt about the objectionable toppings they were about to consume.
They all sat back down at the table and began picking anchovies off their pizza, and even with them gone—at least what they could see of them—the salty, fishy taste was prominent in each bite. The jalape?o and pineapple combo was no better, and Wes was grateful for the ice-cold beer that Natalie delivered that helped cut through the heat and aftertaste lingering in his mouth. Ugh.
After finishing two slices, he told the guys he’d be right back and headed straight for the master bathroom and his toothbrush. He didn’t even feel one bit guilty that he had the luxury of brushing his teeth and using minty Scope to rinse the despicable flavor out of his mouth, even though the other guys had to suffer.
He returned, and while Natalie cleaned up after their snack, they started another game. She picked up their paper plates—piled high with anchovies and some jalape?os—and tossed them into a trash bag. She went around the table, and when she arrived next to him, he felt the brush of her enticing chest against his arm—intentional, no doubt—as she reached for a crumpled napkin in front of him. He exhaled slowly and calmly and managed to ignore the physical taunt of her breasts, and just when she started to move away and he thought he could truly relax, her hand knocked his bottle of beer out of the holder. He watched with a sense of foreboding dread as the bottle tipped over completely, and the cold contents poured right into his lap.
The chilled liquid shocked his system, and he sucked in a sharp breath and shoved his chair away from the table, which did no good since the front of his jeans were already drenched through.
He lifted his narrowed gaze to Natalie. What. The. Fuck.
“Oh, damn,” he heard Max say in a low voice that was edged with laughter.
“Yeah, the shit is about to get real,” Kyle added.
“I’m so, so sorry!” Natalie exclaimed as she went to grab a napkin from the side table. “I can’t believe how clumsy I am!”
Clumsy, my f*cking ass. Natalie was one of the most agile, coordinated women he knew.
She returned quickly and started rubbing and pressing against the front of his jeans with the thin napkin to soak up the beer, but it had already seeped through to his skin. He gritted his teeth as her fingers grazed along his rapidly hardening cock, and he couldn’t deny that for a brief moment he let himself think about how her bare hand would feel wrapped around his shaft and stroking the length in her tight fist . . . until he came to his senses and realized they had an audience, and Connor would likely murder him for getting a boner when his sister was just trying to help.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away before the situation could get any worse. “Stop,” he snapped, his frustration—mostly sexual—getting the best of him. “I’m waving the f*cking white flag, okay?” It went against his grain to surrender, especially when he’d won the bet and she should have been way more cooperative this evening.
She bit back a smile, but he didn’t miss the triumphant sparkle in her gaze. “Oh, okay,” she said, somehow sounding naive, as if she had no idea the havoc she’d wreaked on him tonight.