Mag was in Test the New Woman mode.
Fuck.
“I hear that,” Lottie returned.“Met her at King Soopers.Real peach.”
“You ran into Tammy with her?”he asked Mo, jerking his headLottie’s way.
“Her name is Lottie,” Mo replied.
“You ran into Tammy with Lottie Mac, Queen of the Corvettecalendar and every other man on the planet’s wet dream?”Mag amended.
Mo wasn’t finding this even remotely acceptable anymore.
And damn sure not funny.
“Though I’m theotherman,” Mag stated, againgrinning because he read Mo’s face.“Seeing as she’s dating my roommate.”
“We did,” Lottie affirmed, and regained Mag’s eyes.“Andher new man, Peacock Pete who wears a two-hundred-dollar shirt to go groceryshopping.”
“Her new meat was there too?”Mag asked Lottie.
Lottie nodded her head, the bunch of her hair swept up ather back crown bouncing around.“Unh-hunh.When hestopped checking out my tits and figured out who Mo was, I’m pretty sure hepissed his two-twenty-five rag and bone chinos.”
Mag burst out laughing.
Lottie smiled at him.
“Holy fuck,” Mag pushed out through his hilarity.“That Iwould have paid to see.”
“Tammy was the star of the show,” Lottie shared.“I thoughtI’d have to scratch her eyes out before she begged Mo, right in front ofPeacock Pete, to let her go down on him in the alley.”
Mag busted out laughing again but he did it turning hisattention back to Mo.
“Told you she was gagging for it.You totally should havetagged her convenient and left the scraps to Peacock Pete.”He went back toLottie.“Sorry, darlin’.No offense to women on the whole.Just referring towomen like Tammy.”
“She’s not a woman,” Lottie returned.“She just has theequipment.”
Looking at Mo, Mag indicated Lottie with a thumb.“I likeher.”
“Take a number,” Mo muttered.
“You want a beer?”Mag asked Lottie.
“It’s barely eleven o’clock, Mag,” Mo informed his bud.
“I’mfeelin’ like a play by playof the Tammy Incident and anything involving Tammy is better consumed withalcohol,” Mag replied, then he returned to Lottie.“What’d she do when she gota load of you?”
“Nonverbal throwdown.Immediate,” Lottie told him.
“I’ll bet.Pea green.Fuck, wish I’d been there to seethat,” Mag replied.
Lottie then looked at Mo and declared, “I think I like him.”
“He’s an asshole, baby,” Mo shared.
“The fun-loving kind who’s only inappropriate whendiscussing women who are bitches and on occasion waxing poetic about aspectacular blowjob,” Mag put in.
Lottie watched him say this and again looked at Mo.“I’vedecided I totally like him.”
