Rock Chick Reawakening (Rock Chick 0.5)(19)

“I have a variety of concerns,” he explained as we went. “Time is always in short supply. I can’t use it wisely if I have to concentrate on driving. While Ronald drives, I can do things I couldn’t if I was.”

He stopped us by the table and I asked, “And you have a man?”

“I have several,” he answered.

I gestured to the door with my hand. “So what’s that one for?”

“Extra eyes.”

“Extra eyes for what?”

He held my gaze steady. “For being certain, should someone think to do something stupid that I wouldn’t very much like, they won’t do that because they either saw Brady and got smart or Brady saw them and stopped them.”

“So with these concerns of yours, you’re constantly in danger,” I guessed.

“No. Not many would be foolish enough to attempt to put me in a dangerous situation. What I am is cautious.”

I nodded. “You sure strike fear in the hearts of the strippers, sugar. The ones who don’t want to sleep with you, that is. But just sayin’, they might wanna get laid by you, but you scare them too.”

He grinned at me. “No offense, honey, but I’m not sure I consider strippers a threat.”

“None taken, darlin’, but gotta know. Do you consider anyone a threat?”

“No.”

I tilted my head. “Is that smart?”

“I didn’t work to earn my reputation by being stupid.”

Hmm.

“You tryin’ to scare me?” I asked.

“Absolutely not.”

I held my breath at his tone and let him hold my gaze.

He did this until he wasn’t feeling it anymore and he shared that by asking quietly, “Do you have plates?”

“I do. What I don’t got is the desire to eat fancy shit in my house when I’m in the middle of the best movie of all time.”

“We can eat in front of the television.”

I offered an alternate scenario. “You can also call your boys, get your stuff, and mosey on down the road.”

“I’m quite certain you know that’s not going to happen.”

I stared at him.

Then I sighed.

After that, I got plates.

I had fancy shit piled on one and a flute of champagne Marcus poured me in my hand while aiming my ass at my couch when I declared, “I’m not startin’ it up again. I’m good to re-watch certain parts after it’s done, like when Clairee is in that locker room. But I’m in the groove, even if it was interrupted, and I’m not re-startin’ my groove.”

“I’ll catch up,” Marcus told me, settling himself in my armchair, which was the only thing in my place I liked.

Supple leather. Big brass buttons studded all up the front and curve of the arms.

I bought it even though it didn’t match my inexpensive twill couch and it cost a whack when I wasn’t making a whack. I was schlepping drinks and wings at Hooters and wasn’t doing too badly because my hooters put the “Hoot” in Hooters, but it didn’t touch what I made stripping.

And I bought it because it looked like it belonged in a castle.

I wasn’t looking at my chair.

I was looking at him.

“Pardon?”

He set his champagne on my side table.

“I’ll catch up,” he told me.

“What do you mean, you’ll catch up?”

“How far into it are you?” he asked.

“I haven’t gotten to the wedding yet.”

His eyes twinkled.

Lord.

“I don’t know what that means, honey,” he said quietly.

“It means, not far.”

“Then I’ll catch up.”

“You sayin’ you haven’t seen Steel Magnolias?”

He studied me even as he replied, “That’s what I’m saying.”

“How are you breathing on this earth, American, and haven’t seen Steel Magnolias?”

His eyes kept twinkling.

Lord.

“I’m not certain how to answer that.”

“It’s the best movie of all time,” I repeated my earlier declaration.

“We’ll see.”

We’ll see?

“You don’t get me, honey bunches of oats,” I began. “It. Is. The. Best. Movieofalltime.”

He smiled at me. It was warm. Lush. Intimate. A thing of pure beauty.

I ignored that smile hitting my coochie.

“Play the movie, Daisy,” he ordered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped.

“Darling, please start the movie.”

Crap.

That I felt in my coochie.

I glared at him, put down my champagne, snatched up the remote, and started the movie.

Needless to say, the food was great.

Also needless to say, the champagne was fabulous.

More needless to say, it didn’t suck that Marcus not only didn’t make me get up to get my bombolonis, he also didn’t make me get up to fill my champagne flute.

And lastly, needless to say, when M’Lynn lost her nut by Shelby’s casket and I lost my nut right along with her on my couch in my apartment no matter that I’d seen that scene one hundred and fifty times, I lost it again, a different way that time, when Marcus got up, nabbed my remote, and hit pause.