He scoots off the table and reaches for his pants. “Do you have a list of secret parking places so that we might do this again tomorrow night?”
“I’ll work on that.”
“Have you other clothes?”
“Floor of the kitchen.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the pleasure of seeing you in only your lingerie.”
My breasts tingle. “Saylingerieagain.”
“Tomorrow, when you send me the secret midnight bus location. Though I suppose I could simply buy this place instead. Then I would give us permission to be on the land.”
“Simon.”
He grins.
And then he pockets my underwear.
Both the thong and the bra.
Butch knocks at the door again. “Got about three minutes, boss.”
Simon disappears into the kitchen and reemerges with the rest of my clothes. We rush through getting dressed, and then he’s kissing me hard and fast before dashing out the back door.
“We’ll follow you,” he calls. “Just in case you have trouble.”
He’s my trouble.
My favorite trouble.
And I don’t mind at all.
In fact, I think I love it.
32
NOTHING SWOONIER THAN MURDER
Bea
By the timeSimon’s murder mystery dinner arrives, I’ve almost forgotten that his whole intention was to upstage Lucinda Camille. I’ve been too busy seeing him and his boys at every opportunity to even care why he wanted to do it in the first place.
But the day of the dinner, I get a very solid reminder.
“Logan Camille seriously sat in the parking lot next to your burger busall day?” Daphne says as she drives us to Simon’s place now that the dinner is upon us.
“All day. Someone would start to approach, he’d make noise or stretch or something, and four out of every five potential customers recognized him and essentially ran away. Worst day I’ve had in like two weeks.”
“Such a fuckingdick.”
“Either he’s mad that Simon’s upstaging his mother by hosting an invite-only version of her favorite event tonight, or Logan thinks it’s my fault traffic has slowed down for Jake’s restaurant. Which is crazy. I’ve hardly thought about JC Fig at all since Simon took me on that spite date, and I definitely haven’tsaid anything. Not anywhere near the way the Camilles trash-talk me.”
She grins. “Who wants to think about a dumbass ex when you have the perfect rebound man coming by every day?”
I stare at her.
She slides a look at me. “What?”
