Page 18 of My Casanova

I grinned and headed to the shelf to grab the pickled okra and honeycomb. “It’s part of the experience.”

Chapter Eight

Smoke

“They’re all drunk,” I muttered and eyed the group gathered around the cheese case.

Yarder nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, that would be an accurate assumption.”

I tilted my head toward the older guy behind the case—Stan, I thought his name was. “Even he is drunk.”

Yarder smirked. “He’s the one poppin’ the bottles, man. As soon as he does, Dani grabs some other cheese, crackers, or whatever to pair with it. They’ve been at this for three hours.”

I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck. Fixing Dani’s tire had taken longer than expected—Mac’s shop had to squeeze me in, which meant I was stuck waiting. Not that I minded, but standing here now, watching this circus, I wondered if I should’ve just left the damn spare on.

“Dice leave?” Yarder asked.

I nodded. “He could hear the laughing from the parking lot. Was out of the car and on his bike before I could even shut my door.”

Yarder chuckled. “Yeah, sounds like Dice. Pretty sure any kind of commitment other than to the club is not what he wants.”

I leaned against the counter with my arms braced as I watched the girls crowd around Stan. He was handing out something white with a streak of red running through it.

“Manchego with plum jam,” Poppy called and waved a slice in the air. “You want one, babe?” she asked Yarder.

Yarder shook his head. “I’m good.”

I smirked. “They eat too much cheese and no one’s gonna poop for days.”

Yarder snorted. “Pretty sure the wine and olive oil they’ve been downing will help with that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “They’re drinking olive oil?”

Yarder nodded. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t ask any more questions if I were you. Your stomach might not be able to handle it. They started with blue cheese, and things have just gotten more interesting as they go on.”

The girls peeled off into another fit of laughter, with their voices rising and falling like a chaotic melody. And right in the middle of it all was Dani.

She stood there with her cheeks flushed from the wine and her eyes sparkling with mischief. Her light brown hair framed her face perfectly, curling slightly at the ends, and that smile—hell, that smile could light up the whole damn shop. She had curves that didn’t quit that filled out that purple T-shirt in all the right places. Her light-colored jeans hugged her hips like they were made just for her. She was beautiful in a way that hit me square in the chest and knocked the wind out of me every damn time.

Yarder nodded toward the cheese case where Stan was leaning heavily against it. “I can get the girls home, but I think you’re gonna have to handle Dani and Stan. I gotta say, for a guy well into his sixties, he’s kept up with the girls.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “That’s a feat. I don’t know how they do it, but these girls can throw back some alcohol. They actually buy anything?”

Yarder motioned to the overflowing baskets at his feet. “Oh, they’re buying, alright. I had to cut Poppy off from throwing more stuff on the counter. Swear to God, they’ve got four hundred bucks worth of shit.”

I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “Hell, we might be begging the network to pick upTreadfor another season if they keep this up.”

Yarder groaned. “Don’t even say that shit. We still need to finish this season.”

I shot him a glance. “Any idea when it’s happening?”

Yarder grunted. “Monday.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. “Any idea who they’re sending?”

Yarder shrugged. “Not a who. A them.”

I frowned. “They’re sending more than one person?” That wasn’t like Don. Maybe he was finally getting his act together and decided this show was going to be shot come hell or high water.

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