I look at my boys in turn, releasing my hold on Charlie’s mouth.
“We’re sorry, Ms. Best,” Charlie says.
I almost believe him.
Hudson clearly doesn’t if the scowl on his face is any indication. I do believe it’s got even scowlier with that apology.
Eddie shrinks against me. “Really, really sorry.”
“We won’t ask anyone who they’re shagging again.”
“We’ll forget the word even exists.”
“You better,” Hudson says. “That’s not funny. It’s rude and inappropriate in every situation.”
“Yes, sir,” they both chime.
He draws back, clearly horrified. “And don’t fuckingsirme. How old do you think I am?”
“Thirty?” Eddie guesses.
“At least twenty-eight,” Charlie adds.
I rub my brow and sigh.
“I’m spitting in their burgers,” Hudson says to Bea.
“Don’t think I’d stop him today,” Butch muses.
Her smile beams brighter than the sun. “I’m so glad I’m not parenting teenagers anymore.”
I do very terrible maths and order a bunch of food for all of us, then we step aside and wait.
While I watch her with her other customers.
She doesn’t look my way despite my every wish that she would.
When Hudson calls our number, Tank, Charlie, and I step up to the window to pick up the food.
“Bea?” I say.
She glances over in the middle of writing down an order. “Yes?”
“How long are you here today?”
She checks her watch, and I look at it too, though I’m more interested in her slender wrist and the red nail polish I didn’t notice last night.
It sparkles, much like her dress did.
Had I not got plastered last night, I might have had the opportunity to peel it off her.
The dress, of course.
Not the nail polish.
Though I wouldn’t have minded had she left some of that nail polish embedded in my back after?—
I clear my throat and tell my cock to stand down.
