Page 2 of Dirty Dealer
“That’d kind of defeat the point of it being made from repurposed materials, yeah?”
I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, a loudbleatsounds from behind. I practically jump out of my shoes and beer sloshes from my glass. “Jesus, Pixy.”
The pet wanders by as if he didn’t take a few years off my life.
I wipe my hand on the rag Chance offers. “Your goat scared the shit out of me.”
“That’s what, a dozen times now?” Chance laughs and rubs the animal behind his ear. “He’s better than any guard dog.”
“Then get a pup. Should be easy enough with your wife’s job.” Aubrey runs a local animal shelter, and you’d think they’d be a normal couple and adopt dogs and cats. Goats scare the shit out of me. It’s the eyes. Wide, giant, glassy things that might as well be possessed.
“Aren’t you an animal lover?”
I eye Pixy warily, and take a step out of the goat’s view. “I’m more a dog guy.”
“You aren’t scared of ol’ Pix, here?”
“What? No!”
“Sure, mate.” Chance chuckles and stands, retrieving his beer to take a long sip and propping his back against the doorway.
Aubrey enters the studio doorway and hands the baby monitor to Chance, her yoga mat tucked under her other arm. “Baby’s asleep. I’m heading out.” Her gaze finds mine, and her smile brightens. “Hi, Jude. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Had to get a preview of your husband’s next masterpiece.”
“It’s brilliant.” She beams at Chance as if he painted the Sistine Chapel. Or holds the stars. He looks back with the same devotion and desire. Completely, totally in love.That.That, right there is something I wouldn’t mind at all. There’s nothing fake or fabricated about the affection these two share.
“But you already know my husband is always right on schedule.” Aubrey lifts her brow when I bring my beer to my lips for a sip. “You aren’t fooling me, Jude. You stop by to shoot the shit. And for the free beer.”
Busted.Fuck, am I that obvious? Does she think it’s pathetic I resort to unnecessary vendor meetings when I get too bored or restless? More importantly, is that what Chance thinks?
“Princess, you’re the one telling me I need more friends. Don’t chase this one off.” Chance loops his arm around her waist, dropping a kiss to her lips and whispering something in her ear to make her eyes light. Knowing Chance, probably something filthy. I tip back my beer to give them a tiny thread of privacy.
“Enough of that. I’ll be late.” Aubrey giggles and shoves Chance away with a grin. She lifts her hand to wave. “Jude, always good seeing you. Next time you pop by, why don’t you stay for dinner? Bring a lady friend, or let me set you up with someone.” She waggles her brows suggestively.
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off with a chuckle, but I don’t want to be set up with one of Aubrey’s friends. I’ve had enough awkward blind dates to last a lifetime. Unless . . . “Do you have a sister?”
“No.” Chance glares, his brow creased with irritation. “And find your own princess, my wife is taken.”
“Not moving in on your woman.” I hold my hands up. I am not a cheater, despite what some might think. “Just searching for someone as beautiful and smart as her.”
He shakes his head, but a chuckle escapes his mouth. “I should hit you for that, but she’s the best thing to happen to me, so I get it.” Their road to happily ever after wasn’t an easy one, but it was paved with fate. He’s told me the story so many times, and I’d be lying if I didn’t wish for the same instant connection. A sign from the universe to make things clear.
“Wait.” My brows shoot up. “Don’tyouhave a sister? Is she single?”
“No.” He really does punch me this time, his fist making contact with my shoulder with enough momentum it stings. “Hands off Adele. She’s finally happy, and you’re a player.”
He’s not wrong. “Maybe I’ll become a reformed ladies’ man, like you.”
“No doubt you’re capable, but it takes more than a whim, mate. When you meet the right woman, you’ll know.”
“Yeah.” I nod, but what if I never meet the right woman? How will I know if she’s the one when I do? I don’t even know where to go looking. It’s not that I have problems attracting the female population. Quite the opposite. I have no trouble finding a woman to warm my bed, or suck my dick. The issue is, I never know whether they’re only after a piece of my fortune. Call them what you will. Gold diggers. Advantageous hustlers. But I want a woman who’d be satisfied with my companionship even if I were dirt poor. I release a sigh and take another sip of my beer. “We all can’t pick out a girl from a rest stop and marry her like you did.”
“Not really that simple.”
“Too bad.” I sigh into my beer glass. I wish it worked that way. “It’d be easier. Sometimes I think I’m getting too old for the LA scene.”
“Must be a real trial. All those willing and wanting women, following you home each night like puppies for a roll in the sack. I don’t know how you do it.”
