Rob dipped his chin down, chuckling. He ran his hand over the length of his tie once again and I barely kept myself from purring. "Happily," he replied. "If that gets me an afternoon in your garden, I'll wear—or not wear—anything you'd like."
I looked at my plate and focused on rearranging the sandwich's layers. It was all I could do to wipe the fiery blush from my face and get control of my word vomit.
When I glanced up, a group of men streamed through the door. Clad in tight navy t-shirts withEngine 10printed on the back, they turned every head in the bakery. I watched them over Rob's shoulder for a moment, as fascinated by this gaggle of guys as everyone else.
I started to say something to Rob about coming to the garden this weekend but stopped myself when I sensed someone staring at me. It took a minute to find the source of the stare among all those navy t-shirts, and by the time I did, he was headed this way.
"Hello, Miss Magnolia," he said, propping his hands on his lean hips. "Didn't think I'd see you twice in twelve hours."
"What?" Rob glanced between me and this unwelcome guest.
"Ben," I gritted out, tilting my neck to glare up at my noisy neighbor.
"Who the fuck is Ben?" Rob asked.
Ben glanced to my date. "Who the fuck is this guy?"
Chapter Twelve
My date was furious.
Not gonna lie…it was pretty hot.
I mean, I didn't like guys with anger problems. I didn't need any toxic masculinity in my life, thank you kindly. But this didn't feel like an anger problem to me. It felt like my noisy neighbor boy interrupting an otherwise lovely date and making things peculiar with the suggestion Isawhim late last night.
Yeah, Isawhim. Technically, he saw a lot more of me than I did of him but that was beside the point. We weren'ttogetherlast night. He was disturbing the peace and I was the concerned citizen who'd shut up him and his tile saw.
And promised to help him with his remodeling efforts over the weekend.
Jesus Lord, I strolled into some real special situations, didn't I?
"Magnolia," Rob said, a sharp edge in his voice that raised goose bumps on my arms. The best goose bumps. Interesting goose bumps. I could get on board with goose bumps like these. Maybe not right now, in the middle of Flour, but at some point in the potentially naked future. "You know this guy?"
"I'm wondering the same thing," Ben added with a flippant wave toward Rob. I swiveled my gaze toward him and damn, that t-shirt worked. The hoodie he wore last night, it hid all the goods. "Who's the suit?"
"All right, listen," I started, holding both hands up. "I'm having lunch with Rob. He's a—a friend of mine."
"I'd say we're past the point of friends," Rob argued, his brow creasing. This boy. He couldn't talk about anything more than no-strings sex but went all prickly porcupine at the suggestion of mere friendship. So damn prickly. "After everything we've shared and everything you've—ahem—seen."
Still holding my hands up, I shot him a withering glare. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. One of the many wonderful things about me is that I don't forget." He started to argue but I shook my head, saying, "Hush now. I'm talking."
"Can't wait to hear this." Ben crossed his arms—my god, how did anyone get forearms that ropey?—over his chest and rocked back on his heels. For real though, those forearms were straight out of Gaston fromBeauty and the Beast.
"And as for this one," I said, tipping my head toward Ben. "This is the guy who's flipping the house across the street from me." I caught Rob's steely glare. "I told you about that. Remember?"
"I think so," he murmured, busy sizing Ben up.
If I wasn't truly annoyed about this interruption and my brain's inability to process while Ben's bare forearms and Rob's chest were in the picture, I would've enjoyed this moment. I would've sat back, thrilled that two men were metaphorically fighting over who got to piss the circle around me.
Moments like these didn't happen to me. I was the chubby friend, the weird friend, the friend with the hot (or so I was told) brothers. I was always thefriend. Never the one everyone wanted.
"What I didn't tell you is that he's been working through the night and waking the dead with his tile saw," I continued.
Rob's glare softened as he blinked at me. "You should've told me about that. I would've—"
"Nope," I interrupted. "I had it under control."
Rob blinked at me again. "I can't decide if that's infuriating or fucking awesome."
