“Drop the attitude. I’m calling about the Grove Brothers.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Don’t play stupid with me. The Grove Brothers. You know. Black hair. Blue eyes. Tall. Muscular. Tattoos. Wear the navy-blue leather jackets.”
“Navy blue? That’s a shit color for leather,” I said.
“They were in the damn bar last night talking to you,” she said.
“How do you know who the hell was talking to me in the bar last night?” I asked.
“So, you do know them,” she said.
“No, I don’t. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The three hot men that sat at the bar with you all night. My friend Georgia said they were nursing beers and shit. She sent me pictures. They are hot as fuck. Did you get their numbers?”
Holy hell, she was talking about Nick, Jacob, and Adam.
“No, I didn’t,” I said.
“Why the hell not? You know the kind of guys I go for. They were perfect!”
“I didn’t get their numbers because they’re not single, Mom,” I lied.
“Oh. Well, shit.” I could hear the disappointment in her voice, but I knew that wouldn't stop her for long, especially if she was drinking.
I wasn’t going to let my mother sink her talons into those three. They had seemed like decent guys. I’d been around some nasty bikers in my time, and these guys weren’t that.
“Well, maybe they’ll be back.” my mother said.
“Can’t you just respect people’s boundaries for once?” I asked.
“What? They’re men. They aren’t married, right? Girlfriends come and go.”
“So do booty calls,” I said under my breath.
“I heard that. The bar open tonight?” she asked.
A thought crossed my mind, and I grinned as I eyed Lindy.
“What?” Lindy asked.
“Can I stay at your place tonight?” I asked while I covered the phone with my hand.
“Of course. What’s up?”
I held up my finger before I cleared my throat.
“Yeah, Mom. The bar’s open tonight. Booker is trying something new out. He’s theming nights now.”
“Theming nights? The fuck does that mean?”
Lindy clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling the laughter pouring from her lips.
“It means some nights have a theme now. Tonight is ‘leather and lace.’ Men are in leather. Women are in racy lace,” I said.
“It’s about damn time that boss of yours did something to get more men in there. I gotta go shopping. See you tonight.”