To my left, Gabe Hand grins and rubs his clean-shaved head. “Well, I have one. I’m going to ask Mia to move in with me.”
Suds raises his dark brows and presses his nose to the side, making it crooked. “You better marry her, or Vinny will kill you. I’m serious, dude. He’s got connections and not afraid to use them. I should know.”
When he shudders comically, I crack up. “I thought you’ve finally grown on your wife’s family.”
“If you ask them, more like a fungus.” He chuckles and turns to his future cousin-in-law. “At least her father isn’t the police chief.”
Hands high-fives him. “True that.”
Knowing how I hate it, my love-struck pals talk diamond rings and in retaliation, I stick two fingers down my throat. “If you two braid each other’s hair, I’m out of here.”
After a swig of beer, I shake my head. Marriage. Yikes. A part of me wonders how I became so jaded, but I quickly shut down any lingering regrets. Introspection requires a Ken and I’m a fucking GI Joe.
“What’s got your tighty-whiteys all bunched up?” Suds may seem like a good ol’ boy but he’s insightful. If I don’t want him to know my joystick is pining for a fine red Rose, I need to chill.
Hands hoots and rats me out. “You didn’t hear? Casanova locked lips with his blind date, then dumped her.”
Before I end up bruised on the sidewalk, I need to set the record straight. “Listen up, you gossipy old women. I was a fucking saint. We had a couple of drinks and I admit, there was some attraction. However, I sawthe-lookin her eyes and backed off. You know me, I don’t sleep with the nice ones, especially where alcohol is involved.”
There’s a moment of tension before Suds slaps me on the back. “Thanks, brah, Rose had a real nasty divorce. No one in the family is supposed to speak her ex’s name out loud.”
“No problem-o. I keep telling you guys, I’m a goddamn teddy bear.” As I flutter my eyelashes, I do wonder if I could’ve been kinder, but me being an asshole was for her own good.A sweet thing like her should not be making googly-eyes at a broken man.
A glutton for punishment, I can’t help asking. “Did she say anything about me?”
Gabe, to my left, shrugs. “Just how she thinks she did something to piss you off.”
“Shit. I hope you set her straight.”
“Now why the fuck would I do that?” When he smirks, I know he’s pulling my leg, so punch his arm to make things even.
“Asswipe. Can we puh-lease change the subject? Unlike you two, I am not pussy-whipped.” I smile but my throat tightens.
The last thing I wanted was for the dark-haired gypsy to think she was lacking. Once upon a time, I would’ve done just about anything to have an exquisite beauty stare with sex on her mind. Too bad my soul got blown apart with my foot in the desert.
Sensing my mood shift, Hands buys the next round. “Okay, spill. What kind of magic skate did you wear to the Christmas party?”
Recalling how I owned the ice, I break out in a huge grin. “A few weeks ago, I flew to Wisconsin and met these two guys. This amputee has a brilliant friend who cuts steel for a living. You should see this dude. He plays hockey with mad skills. After I tried out his prosthetic, I wrote some folks at the VA and sent them videos. I also shared all this with Grayson Patten, and he wants to know more. I’m pretty sure he’s going to invest. We’re going to design a foot for skiing, another for snowboarding and roller blades… You get the drift. For guys like me, it’s a game changer. Man, for the first time in years, I felt… normal. Can you imagine if we made them available for everyone?”
Realizing I’m girly-gushing, my face heats and I quickly hide my embarrassment behind a sip of beer. The two of them share a glance, smile, and raise their bottles.
“To new adventures.” As we clink to success, Suds’ phone pings.
He reads the text, moans, and stands. “Oh fuck, y’all. I need to go. My doggone wife has gone and done it again.”
Hands jumps off his stool, opens his wallet, and throws a few twenties on the bar. “Not the danger-magnet thing?”
Hopping on my good leg, I shrug on my parka with our company logo. “Sorry? What am I missing?”
Pausing, Hands explains. “Sam attracts trouble like... help me out here, pal.”
“Flies on poop.” Suds snatches his black leather jacket, then adds, “Rose was involved too. She entered a live meeting on the dark web.”
Months of physical therapy allow me to keep pace as we race up the sidewalk. A few Brooklyn blocks later, we squeeze between two buildings, enter a courtyard, and climb three flights of stairs to Suds’ apartment.
Face red, he opens the door, stomps to the kitchen table, and leans into his wife’s face. “What the actual fuck, sweetheart?”
The pretty dirty-blond cups his cheeks. “I only left for a second. I had to change Mikey. He detonated in his diaper.”
