“Youvilllearn.” Babyshka winked heavily. Her eyelid stuck briefly at the bottom long enough that he grew concerned for her wellbeing. It took a solid moment, but she recovered and hustled away, leaving them both sitting in their folding chairs with no clue what came next.
“I’m uh…” Tanner cleared his throat and pointed toward the cake table.
“Me too,” Mach added, motoring straight to the table and not looking back.
Those traitors were going to eat all the freaking cake.
Babushka quickly returned with an elderly woman who, thankfully, didn’t resemble his grandmother.
“This is Etta.” Babushka gestured to Etta. “She gives good dance.”
Uh. No. Uh uh. He started to stand, but Becca’s hand moved to his shoulder, holding him in place. “Hold on there, Speed Racer.”
“Etta is going to dance for Linx?” Becca asked, entirely too sweetly. She let her hand drop from his shoulder.
Babushka shook her head. “No, she vill teach him to dance foryou.”
Becca expression went slack. She held her hand to her chest. “Me?”
Becca stared at him for a long beat, a dare practically broadcasting between them. The parameters of the agreement hashed out with only that glance. Fine. Fuck it. He’d do it, and he’d enjoy it.
“I’m in,” he said as he ran his teeth along the edge of his lip.
Becca was still doing the talking-with-only-a-glance thing to him. She wanted this. He wanted this. This was going to be fun. He was going to enjoy the hell out of dancing for Becca.
Etta rubbed her gnarled hands together. “The first rule of lap dancing is that you don’t use your cootie cat when you grind. Rug burn after a night of dancing is uncomfortable for everyone.”
Yeah, he’d just bet it was.
“I have a question.” He raised his right hand like he was back in high school in Mr. Carpenter’s chemistry class. “Where exactly would I find my cootie cat?”
Etta scowled, looked at his crotch, then back to his face. “Your love dart.”
He choked a little on his own spit.
“Right.” He nodded, recovering quickly. “Don’t use my love dart when I grind.”
Becca bit her lips together, but her shoulders shook.
“If he doesn’t use his love dart, what should he use?” Becca asked, all total bullshit innocence.
“You’ve got good meat on your thighs. Put it to use.” Etta nodded at his aforementioned thighs, which made Linx glance down.
“Don’t use my love dart, got it. Use my thighs, instead,” Linx said, all confidence, as though he was an A-plus student.
He’d never been an A-plus student in anything but music.
“Smile at the lady.” Etta held her hand toward Becca, flashing a dentured smile in illustration.
Linx followed her lead and did the same.
Becca did, too. She was a beautiful woman, but the smile she flashed looked like something from a thriller flick. Like she was going to sink those teeth in places he wouldn’t enjoy.
She was totally screwing with him. And he liked it.
Her normal, not-going-to-munch-your-nuts smile remained in place as she waggled her eyebrows at him.
He responded in kind.
