She turned to Thad to tell him that he didn’t have to walk her to her car, but they were already there.
“This yours?” he asked.
She nodded.
Several beats passed before Thad said, “So you getting in?”
She nodded again. Why could she not use words?
Thad continued staring at her, and it wasn’t until Duchessbarked that Ashanti remembered what she should have been doing.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head as she used her key fob to unlock her SUV. “It’s been a long day.”
“I apologize again for making it longer,” he said.
She opened the back door and helped Duchess climb up and into her booster seat, strapping her in. She turned and noticed that Thad had moved several feet back. The streetlight illuminated him from above, highlighting every inviting feature. This man was an amazing physical specimen. Thank goodness his personality—at least what she knew of it—rubbed her the wrong way.
At least itusedto rub her the wrong way. It had started rubbing her a different way lately.
“Thanks for walking me to my car,” Ashanti said.
“Thanks for not charging me ninety bucks because I was late,” he said.
She grinned. “You haven’t gotten your bill yet. Besides, after-care is on me this week, remember?”
“Ah, yes!” He pitched his head back and chuckled up at the sky. “Thank you. I promise to pick the dog up on time tomorrow.”
“Who are you picking up on time?” Ashanti asked as she climbed into the SUV.
He frowned, then laughed. “Puddin’. I promise to pick Puddin’ up on time tomorrow.”
She nodded. “See that you do.”
She waved at Puddin’ before closing the door and pulling away from the curb. She glanced in her rearview mirror several times, finding Thad in the same spot on the sidewalk, watching her drive away.
16
Why did I let you drag me out here?” Thad yelled.
“What?” Von yelled back.
Of course Von hadn’t heard him. The combination of noise from the twenty flat screens tuned to the same Thursday Night Football game, the deejay playing nineties R&B from a dais in the corner, and the crush of people packed into the Frenchmen Street bar made it hard for Thad to hear his own thoughts.
“What’d you say?” Von asked, so close to his ear Thad felt spit. He shoved him away.
“I said I’m kicking your ass for dragging me here tonight!”
“Hey, man. We gotta check out the competition.” Von gestured to the crowd with his glass of Crown and Coke. “We need to figure out how to get people to fill up The PX like this once we open.”
Von’s head turned like a slow-moving sprinkler as a woman in painted-on jeans and a shirt so tight it looked as if she was giving herself chest compressions with every breath walked past them.
Thad side-eyed him. “Yeah, it’s the competition you’re checking out.”
“Have the women in this city always looked like this? How did you bear to leave?” Von finished his drink in a giant gulp, then set the glass on the bar. “Be right back.”
Thad rolled his eyes as he settled both elbows on the bar and took stock of the scene before him. He couldn’t deny that this place was lit, especially for a weeknight. They didn’t have any type of gimmick like fifty-cent wings or open mic night either. The bartender told him this was typical, and that if theyreallywanted to see a crowd, they should come back this Sunday for the Saints home opener against the Atlanta Falcons.
Thad was tempted to come back just to see how they managed to fit in more people without violating the fire codes. There wasn’t an unoccupied seat in the entire bar.
