Page 57 of Average Joe

“We did.” Frank came my way, his grin tight. He, too, seemed to have issues with my proximity to Singleton, his shoulders straightening, chest puffed, gaze assessing.

Joe’s friend Connor dismounted his bike and settled next to Frank. “Hey, little lady.” He offered me a curt nod, then sized up Singleton, wrinkles forming between his brows.

Jeez, these men. “Hi, Connor.”

Joe stepped closer. Whether conscious or not, Singleton took a step forward, too, positioning himself between Joe and I, effectively putting himself in danger, judging by the scowls coming from my neighbor and his posse.

Two steps closer, and Joe towered over my friend, offering a hand but asserting his dominance. “Joe Kaine.”

“Isaac,” Singleton offered.

The men shook hands, lingering, tension vibrating between them.

“Uh, Joe.” I bumped Singleton out of the way. “You didn’t have to go to all the trouble. I had everything under control.”

“I see that.” His attention darted from man to man, landing on Marco. “Who’re your friends?”

I made introductions. When the testosterone cloud dissipated, I said, “I promised these guys beer and pizza for their hard work. Now they’ve got nothing to do, and it’s a little early for pizza.”

“Never too early for pizza,” came from Tye.

Marco chimed in, “Or beer.”

To which Singleton replied, “I’m famished.”

“Woke up this morning thinking about sausage and pepperoni.” That came from Connor.

I chanced a glance at Joe, who only shrugged.

“All right then. Pizza it is.”

* * *

Singleton leaned back, stretched his arms wide, then rested one across the back of my seat, brushing my shoulder with warm fingers. “Thanks, Marls, you’re the best.”

Joe stiffened, shifting, his thigh falling against mine on my other side. A low rumble vibrated his chest.

Singleton chuckled. Bastard.

My body warmed, face heated. Mere seconds ago, the vibe had been chill, conversation entertaining. Suddenly, the air was ripe with the stink of male ego and unvocalized warnings.

Marco snagged the last slice of Hawaiian, eyeballed Joe, then shot me a wry grin. No doubt, he’d defend his friend if necessary, but he wouldn’t enjoy being put in that situation.

To diffuse the ticking bomb, I said, “All right, boys,” then pushed from my chair. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I need to get going.”

“Give me a sec, Marls. Gotta hit the head, then I’ll drive you home.” Marco shoved the last two bites into his mouth.

“I’ll take her.” Joe shot to a standing position, his chair clunking into the empty table behind us.

“No. No. It’s fine.” I waved them off. “You boys finish eating. I’ll Uber.”

“No, you won’t,” Joe huffed. “I’m ready to go now.”

“You’re on a motorcycle,” Singleton piped in, and I could swear his intention was to rile Joe.

Joe shot back, “I’ve got an extra helmet.”

“I’m not getting on the back of that thing,” I interjected.

---