Page 48 of Bone’s Choice

“We do not own a strip club.”

“Good to know.”

“Why?” I asked. Her eyes moved back to mine. “Looking for another job?”

Hazel almost spit out her wine.

Ma gasped, then started laughing.

Hazel set her glass down. “Wow.”

“You opened that door.”

“I absolutely did not.”

“You asked.”

“I said strip club.”

“And I asked if you wanted a job.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you picturing me working at a strip club, Bone?”

Fuck.

That question landed directly where she intended it to. I leaned back and our eyes locked. “Didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“Do you want me to?”

Hazel’s lips parted.

Ma slammed her fork onto her plate. “Is this not the best pot roast you have ever had?”

Hazel dissolved into laughter. I laughed too.

Ma looked between us. “I think we should talk about the pot roast. That seems safer.”

“You raised me,” I reminded her.

“I did better than this.”

“Debatable.”

Hazel wiped beneath her eyes.

“Sorry, Pink.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No.” She took a breath. “I’m really not.”

I liked her laugh. I’d already figured that out. I liked her mouth too. Also already knew that. The problem was I was starting to like the shit that came out of it.

“So how’d you end up making caskets?” Hazel asked.

“Family business.”