The shock on his face? Totally worth my bold declaration.
Before he could recover, Tigger groused. “Are you done bantering, because I’m with the old man. I’m hungry too!”
“Shall we?” Apollo’s amused expression indicated he wasn’t bummed our date had been ruined by my cock-blocking grandfather. Maybe he had a sadistic side.
As he helped me into the passenger seat, I murmured, “Nice wheels.”
“Thanks.”
“How many cars do you own?”
“Here or in total?”
“Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
As I buckled in, Tigger chose to leave my lap and scampered into the back to hang out with Tutu, apparently so they could argue.
“You’d better not eat all my pizza, fat man,” Tigger huffed.
“Humans have a saying, sharing is caring.”
“I’m not human.”
“Bah, it probably won’t even be good pizza but some weird fancy thing he had his chef make.”
“It’s possible to ruin pizza?” Tigger inquired.
“Oh yes. It takes the right balance of tomato sauce, cheese, and toppings. The best slice you can have…”
I tuned them out and glanced at Apollo, his strong features, his capable hands on the wheel, the way his muscled thighs strained the fabric of his pants.
“Keep staring at me like that and I will park this car, grab you, and make a run for somewhere private,” he murmured.
“That might be a better plan than the nightmare that’s unfolding,” was my wry reply.
“It will be fine. I’ve got more than enough pizza, plus Francine, my chef, cooked up a batch of chicken wings. If they still have room after that, then there’s ice cream for dessert.”
“Your chef must have had a conniption when you asked for pizzas.”
“Nah. Francine was actually excited. She got her start in cooking working in an Italian restaurant that specialized in wood-fired pies.”
“Please tell me these won’t all be loaded with weird stuff.” Tutu did have a point that rich folk liked to ruin classics.
“What, don’t tell you don’t anchovies and pineapple on a caviar tomato base?”
My horrified expression had him laughing.
“Don’t worry. She’s sticking to the classics, with the exception of the Hawaiian. She refused to put pineapple on a pizza.”
My turn to chuckle. “Thank god. Pineapple should only be eaten fresh or grilled.”
We arrived at Apollo’s house, and Tutu couldn’t hide his awe.
“Nice place you got,” he declared.
“Thanks. I drove the architect nuts when he designed it. I wanted something that didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but also gave me the best views.”
Achieved. I’d not paid much attention the last time but noted the exterior appeared to be made of redwood, likely locally sourced. Vines, bougainvillea if I recognized the leaves correctly, had been planted at the base of the walls and would eventually climb and cover it in a wild jungle of green leaves and bright blooms.
