Real Men Knit(29)

Jesse looked at her, trying to keep his gaze steady and not give away the fact that he was trying to piece together the puzzle forming in his mind. Quick images of lips, tongues, breasts and thighs came to him, and he gave her a cautious smile, careful not to overplay his hand as he recalled the quick make out session they’d shared two months before.

But his smile faltered when her eyes took on a hard edge of sharpness. “I had hoped to hear from you but maybe you lost my number after we last saw each other.”

Shit. Why hadn’t he remembered about her working here when he agreed to wings at Bird’s, and why couldn’t he remember her name? He searched his mind, bringing up their encounter. Her lips, her neck, thighs, breasts, panties, silk, blue silk. Blue! “Sorry about that, Blue,” he said, his eyes softening as he sighed, relieved to have remembered her name. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately and then, well, there have been some personal things going on.”

Her harsh look eased and she put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you have had a lot going on. I should have started with giving my condolences.”

Jesse shook his head. “There’s no need. It’s not like you met my mom.” He knew immediately the moment the meaning of his words struck her. She nodded to cover it up and it only made him feel worse. This was the second time that he was callous over what should have just been a kind acceptance of words of comfort. For some reason, hearing the words from women he never even brought by to meet Mama Joy just felt false. Why act like they were something more than they were now? Yeah, it was cold, but that was the truth of it.

He and Blue had made out. Not so much as a proper hookup, or even halfway to it, and he was sorry to disappoint her, but no, he hadn’t called her. But look at the other side—it wasn’t like she’d called him either. What year was this? It wasn’t like he was that hard to look up. Try as he might, being Jesse Strong made it hard as hell to go completely ghost in the little village of Harlem. Jesse gave a nod to Blue but kept his smile reserved. He looked past her, checking out the crowd. It looked like there would be a wait for a table, and the bar was three or four deep in some spots. Finally, he spotted Ziggy at a booth in the back.

“I see my friends over there and they already have a table,” he said to Blue. “It’s been good catching up. Maybe we’ll get to do it again soon.” Again? What had he just told himself? Damn, habits were hard to break.

Blue’s smile went wide and she shifted, popping a hip and pumping out her breasts. “Sure,” she said. “I believe you have my number.”

He nodded and started toward the back of the restaurant. “I’m sure I do.”

Yeah, he had her number and Erika’s and so many others. But he didn’t have time for that now. Not with all he had to do to get the shop reopened. Not to mention working with Kerry. It took just about all he had to keep his head on straight. Making that mistake with Erika was bad enough, but having Kerry greet her in the morning—well, it was downright embarrassing.

Not that it should make any difference who Kerry caught in his kitchen, but still, it somehow didn’t feel right. Kerry in there with Erika or whoever it might be. That was Mama Joy’s domain. His brain did a mental freeze. Mama Joy’s domain. He guessed he’d have to change his thinking on that, and soon. But shit, it had only been a little over a week, and he wasn’t quite ready to make space in the kitchen or his heart just yet.

Having woven through the tables, Jesse pushed his wayward thoughts to the back corner of his mind as he greeted Ziggy with a dap and moved in to sit.

“Where’s Craig? I thought he would be here by now, especially with seventy-five-cent wings being over in thirty minutes.”

Craig came up behind them just then. “What are you talking about?” Craig said. “As if I’d miss wing hour. I’ve already put in my order for twenty. I suggest you get yours in before it’s too late. You know how they are here. Once the time is up, the price goes up.”

Jesse nodded and raised his hand, hoping to get the attention of their server. Thankfully he came over quickly, a young guy with deep-brown skin and a serious expression. Way more serious than the job and the venue called for, but who was Jesse to judge? He’d spent most of the day brooding in a yarn shop, so he wasn’t one to talk.

After putting his order in, he leaned back, letting the energy of the room, and the fact that he was out, take over his mind and body. It was good to be out and not think about the shop for a little while. Not think about his life two weeks ago or his life twelve hours from now. Right at this moment, he just wanted to be in the moment.

“So, how are you making out?” Ziggy asked, breaking into his zoning.

Jesse tilted his head and thought about the question, not sure he wanted to answer and not sure he had an answer.

“You held it together pretty good during the funeral. I have to hand it to you. I don’t know if I could have been as strong as you were. Must be something to do with your last name. Your mother was an amazing woman. She definitely passed a few things on to you and your brothers,” Craig said.

“That she was,” Jesse agreed, and he didn’t have any words to add besides. “Strong” wasn’t the adjective he’d use to describe himself or his brothers these past two weeks. Honestly, he didn’t know how he’d found it in himself to even fight for the shop the way he did. Everyone had thought he and his brothers were so together. Four misfit princes of Harlem—but lately they had been more misfits than princes. Barely talking and only meeting in passing, except when it was time for Mama Joy’s weekly dinners. Now, without her and those dinners, when would he see his brothers?