She sensed him there, though, because she said, “I’m sowiped, I just want to eat the pizza over the box, down a beer and pass out.”
Not even close to the plans he had for them that night.
He didn’t get into that, or share another good part ofliving in the biker world: the fact it was almost a moral imperative not to putyour pizza on a plate, but instead, eat it over the box at the same timesucking back a beer.
He also didn’t remind her of what he’d already told her.That he’d called, and the restaurant was booked for the next night, but theyhad a reservation for Sunday, so they had something to look forward to.
On the way from the pizza joint, she’d been giving her phonea lot of attention and not sharing why.
So he got into that.
“Something up?”he asked, leaning a hip against the counterand flipping the pizza box open.
Her gaze came to him.
“Well, my mom has been texting all day, which is nosurprise, considering Carolyn has probably been buzzing in her ear.”
“Yeah?”he said.“And?”he asked because he knew that wasn’tit.
“Now my dad has called twice, and that’s unusual, because hekindafigured things out a while ago, at least withthe designer stuff Carolyn’s always sporting, and since she often went to himfor a handout, he cut her off.This caused a big blowup, as I’m sure you canimagine.She hasn’t spoken to him in a couple of years.”
“So you need to call your dad,” he surmised.
“Yes.”
He nodded.“I need to call Rush to get briefed on GaryBronson.You make your call, I’ll make mine.And we’ll eat over the box.Nabsome paper towels, babe.”
“You need cloth napkins,” she said, even as she moved to thepaper towel holder.
“What?”he asked.
She tore some off.“Cloth napkins.”
“Bikers don’t do cloth napkins,” he teased, though he did ittelling her the God’s honest truth.
She smiled at him as she came over and handed him his papertowel.“Do bikers like riding roads on this planet we call earth?”
“So your bid to save the planet is to use cloth napkins andnot paper towels?”
She shrugged.“Every little bit helps.”
He shook his head, and since she’d stopped close, he dippeddown to give her a lip touch, then he pulled out his phone.
“Call,” he ordered.“Soon’s we’re done with this shit, itcan be just us for maybe ten minutes.”
She lifted a hand, pressed it into his chest, then made hercall.
He made his.
Rush answered straight away.
“The guy giving anything up?”Dutch asked before taking ahuge bite of a slice while Georgie murmured and munched close to him.
“Jessica Browbridge launders counterfeit cash the blackmarket operation produces.She does it through that restaurant she manages,”Rush told him.
Well then.
He gave something up.
