Dream Chaser (Dream Team, #2)(41)

He got her in before he stowed the bags and angled in himself, started the car and headed them to My Brother’s Bar.

Along the drive, she told him what a revue at Smithie’s meant and he then understood Daisy’s presence in that scenario, seeing as she used to be the headliner at Smithie’s, and it was his understanding she still mentored the girls on occasion.

He was also all for this revue.

He was all for anything where Ryn didn’t have to strip, and especially didn’t have to do lap dances.

She might bare it all, but that’d be her choice and at her design.

So yeah, he was all for that.

They were at Brother’s, she’d ordered a Ticky Turkey, he’d ordered a Ralphie Burger, they were going to share onion rings but start with a hot pretzel with jalape?o cream cheese.

He had a beer in front of him, Ryn had a cider, and he was about to broach the Cisco thing.

He didn’t get there.

Because she got there first.

“Can I…this afternoon…” She drew in a breath. “Do you have a free afternoon?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “All yours, sweetheart.”

“Okay. I wanna show you something.”

“All right.”

“So we’ll do that after lunch. Cool?”

He nodded but he did it watching her closely.

With her girls, she seemed good.

Singing David Cassidy to him, she looked confident.

Now she seemed unsure of herself, which he’d never noticed from her, except last night after they decided to give this a go.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Corinne being dead,” she answered.

Shit.

How had he forgotten that?

“Baby,” he murmured.

“I mean, it’s so weird to think she was alive just twenty-four hours ago and she probably had no idea. And a few days before, I saw her. I got mad at her. And it was safe to be mad because she’s young and vital, and you know, there was time to get over it. She was in her big, beautiful house. And she’d played me. But I liked her. She was good people.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for being mad at her, babe. She did play you and that wasn’t cool.”

“I know.” She flipped out a hand then took up her cider and downed a sip. She put it back to the table and aimed those blue eyes at him. “I just can’t stop thinking about it. She and her husband loved each other a lot, Boone. The way they looked at each other. I mean, people don’t get it, the alternative lifestyle. But what I saw were two people who, against some pretty crazy odds, found the exact right person for them.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“I honestly don’t know what he’s going to do.”

Boone knew what the guy was going to do.

“Grieve, then hopefully get on with his life and find some happy, even though he’ll never stop missing her.”

She looked down at her drink. “Yeah, I guess that’s life, but it sucks.”

Boone reached out a hand on the table and rapped his knuckles to it.

She looked to it and he opened it, palm up.

Then her gaze came to him, she put her hand in his, and he wrapped his fingers around it.

“I hate saying this shit to you, but sometimes there are no whys. There is no answer. There are no reasons. Bad shit happens. Really bad shit happens. Seriously bad shit happens. Good people, innocent people, unsuspecting people get caught up in it and it isn’t fair. What it is, is life. And the only defense you got is to live your best one while you got it.”

“So you’re hot and wise,” she joked.

He grinned at her. “Stick with me, grasshopper. I’ll show you the way.”

She grinned back. “I’ll bet.”

Their pretzel came, and he let her go, waiting for her to tear off her chunk, before he went for it.

“I dance tonight,” she said while he was chewing.

He just looked at her.

“I kind of, you know…” She broke that off and started up again. “It’s just that it’d be cool if you’d spent the night again. If it isn’t a pain for you.”

Sleeping in her jungle of plants with her tucked into him and the smell of her hair in his face?

Fuck no, it wasn’t a pain.

“We’ll do your thing you wanna do after this. I’ll take you to your car. I’ll go home, shower, pack a bag, come to yours. We’ll hang, do dinner, I’ll take you to work, bring you home and spend the night.”

She didn’t look sure about that and she explained why.

“Boone, you’re not real good at Smithie’s,” she pointed out.

Yeah, he’d gotten in her face about her job.

Or a part of her job.

“I know how you taste now, Ryn. I know how your ass feels snug in my crotch.” He quirked his lips. “So now that ass is officially mine, just don’t do any lap dances, and we’ll be good.”

“Sure?” she asked.

He nodded and tore off another chunk of the pretzel.

She went after her own, saying, “You haven’t mentioned anything about the meeting.”

Shit.

This was because he didn’t want to.

But he had to.

He gave her a rundown over the rest of the pretzel, and they had fresh drinks, their sandwiches, rings and the classic plastic tray of goodness that Brother’s always served that included pickles and banana peppers and shit like that by the time he finished.