Page 8 of Gin and Lava

“Okay, you’re right,” I agree. The Gin n’ Lava is a dive bar in comparison to Flambé, but it’s mine, and I adore it. “Let’s be realistic, Nanna. If you own a business you’ve got to stay in the black. Be smart about it. Right? And some things …”

I look at Naomi in her designer dress and expensive shoes. Naomi is hot as sin, but she’s also the kind of woman who expects a certain kind of lifestyle, and a certain kind of man. One of Ned’s fancy lawyer friends—theycould afford to buy Naomi nice things.

But me?

“Let’s put it this way, Nanna. That girl’s going to put me in the red, big time.”

Nanna scrunches up her face at me again.

“I said boom-boom girl, not buy her a diamond,” Nanna grumbles sharply. “Not unless there are heart fireworks.”

“Heart fireworks?” I look at her skeptically.

Nanna makes a motion by her heart like it’s exploding, then she points to Ned and Olivia.

Ah, right. She means love.

“Yeah, there’s definitely not going to be any of that with that girl,” I clarify.

“That’s my point,” Nanna snips, like I’m not listening. “Pants fireworks”—she motions to my crotch—“not heart fireworks. You’re only young once.”

“Ever heard of quitting while you’re ahead?” I ask, and that makes Nanna frown.

“Quitting is quitting,” Nana snaps. “There’s no such thing as ahead if you quit!”

“I just meant—”

Except, Nanna stands up and shakes her head at me, saying something angry under her breath that I don’t catch, before she storms away.

So much for my number one fan.

Only, Nanna isn’t so much storming away as she is bee-lining it for Naomi.

I sit up.

Oh, shit.

Jokes about hurricanes and blowjobs are fun until the hurricane is the bride’s grandmother high-tailing it over to the one girl who practically gave you a hard on while you were dancing. It’s one thing for me to say bullshit to Naomi—she knows it’s harmless when it comes from me. It’s something completely different when Hurricane Nanna Reese is telling her I need to get laid.

Nanna grabs Naomi’s arm and points at me. Oh, this is not good. Then, she’s talking Naomi’s ear off saying God knows what kind of insane things. This is probably what people mean when they talk about Karma. I talk shit all the time, and now it’s my turn to be reamed up the ass by none-other than the grandmother of the bride.

Naomi looks in my direction and catches my eyes. I cock my head to the side in question, but then a wicked smile spreads across Naomi’s face like Nanna gave her the keys to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

Double shit.

I don’t even know what that grin is supposed to mean—other than trouble. Ned should’ve warned me that Nanna would meddle. I mean, that’s probably in the job description for all grandmothers, but she isn’tmyNanna! Yes, she should meddle to get Olivia and Ned together. But this?

What the hell did she say to Naomi?

3

MASON

Naomi is one-hundred-percent walking over to me.

I start gulping down water, because Naomi looks stupid gorgeous. There are pretty girls and then there are punch-me-in-the-nads-and-make-me-your-bitch gorgeous. Naomi’s the runway model type, with that blue dress hugging her body in all the right spots. Not to mention, the back of that dress is completely open with just two strappy spaghetti strings running down her bare skin. It’s way too easy for me to imagine what she’d look like topless with all that knock-out blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and framing her tits.

Kill me now, because the Viking Princess is storming over here ready to chop off my dick.

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