Page 49 of Wicked Pickle

Quicker than I thought they’d come in.

I plunk down the bottle and lift the lid to the pizza. It’s the All-Pig from Torillo’s. Ham, pepperoni, sausage, and bacon.

I shove the tip of a hefty slice into my mouth, waiting for one of the girls to appear.

It takes a minute. It’s dark inside, only a hall light leaking into the living room and kitchen.

I can tell from the step that it’s Symphony, and she’s alone. I never thought I’d know a woman from the sound of her walk, but here we are.

She pauses in the kitchen doorway. “Skulking in the dark?”

I shrug, then realize she probably couldn’t see it. “You can turn on the light.”

She feels around the wall for a moment, then the room floods brightly. “Cold pizza and beer. You are a true bachelor.” She sits in a chair opposite me.

I push the pizza box toward her.

She examines it. “I’m not one to turn down a cold slice. It’s better the second day, don’t you think?”

When her mouth opens to slip the corner between those lips I already know pretty well, my dick twitches. Unfinished business, it reminds me.

“Where’s your friend?”

She keeps her gaze on the food. “Sleeping off her shots in the cab of your truck.Isthat your truck?”

“Merrick’s.”

“He doesn’t ride a motorcycle like you?”

“He does. We had to haul some product today.”

She chews thoughtfully for a moment. The bob of her throat when she swallows makes my dick jolt to half mast. Fuck me, this woman has my goddamn cock in a twist.

“That seems practical,” she says. “It’s a hell of a drive to the bar.”

“Not much to rent out here that isn’t a hellhole or a meth lab.”

“Ah. Okay. I’m not up on Florida real estate.” She eats the rest of the slice, even the crust. Watching that last piece pop in her mouth has me mesmerized, like a cat with a metronome. I’ve forgotten to eat mine.

She pushes the box my way. “Not bad, this Torillo’s place.”

I shake myself free of the daze. I’m acting like I’ve never seen a woman before. “Friend of mine. Bar regular.”

“Surprised he doesn’t cut a deal for you to sell his pizza by the slice. Lots of bars have arrangements like that.”

It’s a good idea, actually. “Haven’t run it by him.”

She reaches for my beer and takes a swig.

I force myself to eat another bite and act normal, but there is nothing ordinary about my reaction to this woman. What the hell is it?

Her sass? There’s attitude in spades at the Leaky Skull. Her looks? She’s gorgeous. Bound to be part of it.

But maybe it’s because she’s not like the usual woman I’m around. She’s got the fun parts of them, sure, but there’s a lot more to her. Graduate school, for one. Ambition. Plans. That’s pretty rare in my neck of the woods.

The rest of us are stomping through life. Eat. Sleep. Work. Bills. I’m lucky I own something. And I have my brother. But I don’t think about anything beyond each day’s tasks, keeping the stock up, babysitting riffraff.

She has a dreamy look about her, a softness to the sass, that tells me she thinks about things. The future. The world. Something beyond getting by.

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