Page 8 of Taming Bull

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” Stocks took a glass down from the cupboard and filled it with milk.

What did he know? Monica had hooked up with him the first time she’d met him. She’d spotted him across the room and decided he was gonna get lucky. I’d heard their story more times than I could count, and I was certain he didn’t need to learn any secrets of the opposite sex to win her over. “Itisa thing. Trust me, I’ve been researching.”

Monica laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you got your eyes dilated for a guy. Never heard that one before.”

“First of all, I didn’t do itforhim. It’s been years since I had an eye exam, and it just so happened that my appointment was right before I was scheduled to meet up with Bull.” Okay, I’d scheduled the appointment around our date so I could see if Bull would find me more attractive with my eyeballs dilated, but she didn’t need to know that little detail.

Her amused expression told me I wasn’t pulling any wool over her peepers. “So, you had your eyes dilated. What else?”

“The better question is, did it work? Did Bull find your dilated eyes irresistible?” Stocks popped one of Monica’s home baked cookies into his mouth and chewed.

“My girl doesn’t need to have her eyes dilated to be irresistible. Bull just needs to pull his head out of his ass.” Monica narrowed her eyes at Stocks. “And dinner’s in the oven. Better not ruin your appetite, Butter.”

They came up with the weirdest nicknames for each other. This particular endearment was due to Stock’s level of smoothness, or lack thereof. Smooth like butter, he was not, yet she found his attempts endearing.

“This is just an appetizer.” He snagged another cookie before joining us at the table. “You know how I am, babe. Whatever spread you put before me, I’ll eat.” He winked at her.

I pretended to gag at the innuendo.

Monica flashed him a wicked smile and patted my hand. “What else, Lily.”

“I made eye contact, held his gaze, brushed his knee with mine. I even patted his leg.”

“And?” Monica gestured for me to continue.

“Isn’t that enough?”

“I know you’re holding back. You can’t play a player, babygirl. Spill.”

Some things were too embarrassing to share with the woman who was more of a mom to me than my biological mother had ever been. But I didn’t see a way out of it. Monica was relentless, and wouldn’t give up until I’d told her all my dirty little secrets. I knew she only wanted to help, but I suddenly wished I’d never told her anything about my attraction to Bull. My cheeks heated and I dropped my gaze. “I tried to seduce him with my beer bottle.”

She gasped. “Dear God. Please tell me you did not deep throat a bottle in the Copper Penny.”

“That’s about enough of that,” Stocks said, heading for the door.

“Nope.” Monica pulled out the chair on the other side of her. “You sit your fine ass down. You’re gonna help us figure out your boy.”

Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but the kitchen, Stocks reluctantly slunk over and collapsed on the chair, watching us both like we were about to start talking about menstrual periods or something.

“I didn’t deep throat a bottle,” I told them both, regaining a smidgeon of my dignity. “I only licked it a tad.”

Stocks shook his head at me. “Kid.”

I hadn’t been a kid in a long ass time, but he was the closest thing to a father figure I had, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. Or myself, for that matter. “I know, I know.” My head went back to my hands, trying to hide my shame. “Not my finest moment, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve dropped hints, practically molested him when he was teaching me self-defense…”

“I gotta hand it to you, that self-defense ruse was crafty,” Stocks admitted.

“Thank you.” I nodded. “He was sporting some serious wood, so I know he was feelin’ me but...”

Stocks held up his hand. “Please. No talking about another man’s wood. I’m tryin’ to be cool, but there’s only so much I can handle.”

Monica snickered. “You’re doin’ great, baby.”

“I better get one hell of a reward later.”

“Anyway…” I busted into their little side conversation before they could gross me out again. “I’m out of ideas. Hell, Google’s out of ideas. I know he’s into me, but for some reason the stubborn asshole refuses to admit it.”

Something flickered across Stocks’s features, disappearing almost as quickly as it arrived. I caught it, though, and so did Monica. I’d seen the expression before, when he’d dropped a wrench—a literal wrench—on one of Monica’s soufflés and didn’t want to fess up due to threat of life and limb.

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