Page 18 of Smoke After Hours

“Volley and I are just friends,” Bentley answered in my defense. She’d said the line a million times before, and usually, I didn’t care. Yet today, I found myself dragging my fingers through my thick beard, eyeing her more possessively than usual at how easily the lie escaped her lips.

Bentley didn’t seem to notice, her eyes reflecting the excitement of the moment as she eagerly awaited the culinary delights that she saw them preparing in the kitchen.

Nessy noticed it, though, and only Bentley’s chosen Chicago family knew the truth about her and even they didn’t know everything. But they accepted her as family regardless. I read the message in Nessy’s eyes loud and clear.Finally shoot your shot or move out of the damn way.It was a warning she’d given me time and time again and I couldn’t say I blamed her.

Bentley excitedly clapped her hands when we were seated, her effortless beauty and infectious smile causing me to swallow her warmth and settle it right in my heart.

Commotion at the front of the restaurant caused Nessy to leave us, only to return with another couple who she introduced as Jackson Keating and Ivory Vaughn.

“Jackson is a chef,” Nessy explained. “He’s only in town for a few hours and I always invite chefs to my restaurant who are thinking about incorporating cannabis into their dishes.”

Bentley and I nodded and introduced ourselves.

“I love your outfit,” Bentley said to Ivory.

“And I love yours,” Ivory exclaimed, both women beaming. They were dressed similarly in jeans, bootie heels, and a nice top.

“Do you mind if they join you both?” Nessy asked Bentley and me.

“Of course not,” Bentley exclaimed at the same time that I was thinkingYes, I mind.Jackson and I shared a look, both of us apparently wanting the same thing. To be alone with our women. However, as conversation kicked off, having company was fine.

As the first dish arrived, a tantalizing array of cannabis-infused appetizers, I couldn’t help but notice the way Bentley’s eyes lit up with anticipation. She delicately picked up a crispy cannabis leaf chip, her fingers grazing the surface as she brought it to her soft lips. With a soft crunch, she savored the intricate blend of flavors, her eyes closing in bliss as a contented hum escaped her mouth, causing my dick to jump.

I’d eaten with Bentley plenty of times before, but after a couple nights ago in the cabin, I couldn’t stop thinking about how every moan she made right now reminded me of that moment. Her beautiful thighs gripping my head as she unreservedly rode my face.

“This is dope,” Jackson stated to me, while Bentley and Ivory popped a few more chips.

“Delicious,” I agreed, my eyes still on Bentley.

“I wonder if they air fried this,” Jackson continued. “Or maybe they deep fried it.” I glanced over at Jackson who was studying a chip in his hand, squinting at it like a closer look would help him catch something he missed. “It’s like a potato chip, but it’s not. Because it’s weed.”

Shit. Is this muthafucka already high?

Jackson seemed cool, but I wasn’t one for talking a lot during meals. Or period for that matter.

“But it’s red,” Jackson noted. “So maybe they incorporated beets instead. Uncanny how they made this. You think they used beets to make these weed chips?”

I blinked a few times, realizing he was going to continuously stare at me until I answered. “Uh, I don’t know man. Maybe ask Nessy.”

Jackson snapped his fingers after popping another chip into his mouth. “Beets. It’s definitely beets.”

Next came the main course, a savory, cannabis-infused risotto, perfectly cooked and bursting with rich, earthy flavors. Bentley’s fork danced gracefully across the plate, each bite met with a delighted sigh of satisfaction.

As usual, I watched intently, captivated by the way she seemed to lose herself in the culinary experience. I loved to see her happy. To see her smile.

It was the dessert spread that truly stole the show, even for me and Jackson who couldn’t seem to converse without our eyes wandering to our women. Well, Jackson couldn’t stop noting everything he tasted and I had to pretend to be interested in the ingredients of every dish, just to find a moment of silence between Jackson and I.

But we also watched our women.

The dessert was an assortment of cannabis-infused treats from gooey chocolate brownies to delicate cannabis-infused macaroons that Nessy spread out on our table. Bentley’s eyeswidened even more as she stuffed her face with each one, prompting me to take bites of everything she tried.

Our dining companions had to leave, but Bentley and Ivory exchanged info before they left. We barely had room in our stomachs after that for the mini weed milkshakes that Nessy’s business partner, Kinny Blossom of Some Like It Sweet, crafted for us to sample.

As our tasting drew to a close and Nessy prepared to open the restaurant to the public before closing it again later for the High Hoppers, I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from Bentley even more than usual.She looks different today.Or hell, maybe it was me who had changed. It wasn’t just her beauty or her infectious laughter that held me captive, but the way she savored every moment, every bite, with an unbridled passion that was utterly intoxicating because there was still a threat and I had discussed just that with Jackie D an hour ago.

“I haven’t heard either of her names mentioned,” he told me, referring to Bentley Blackwood and her birth name, Mia Kassa. “I’ll look into it. In the meantime, you continue doing the job you’ve been doing for years. If we need to extend it, we will.”

As the buzz of conversation filled the room while employees began to arrive for their shift, I remained lost in thought, my eyes never leaving Bentley’s radiant smile.

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