Everyone’s eyes shifted in my direction. I saw the goddess’s eyes widen before her lips parted as she took me in fully.
Papa shot me a smirk. Ballsy motherfucker. Boomer looked confused.
He spoke before I could. “You have two degrees?”
I cut him off. “You don’t have to answer Boomer. He’s a neanderthal.”
My jaw clenched before shooting a quick look at my brother. I dared another motherfucker to open his mouth. Dakota gave her one last look from top to bottom before shrugging his shoulders and sending me a smirk.
I stepped forward, extending my hand. “I’m Beau Landry. And these motherfuckers can get back to work.”
My brothers chuckled before dispersing.
Before he could speak, Papa stepped the fuck up.
“You must be Stormy St. James, Willow's friend.”
“I am,” she said, putting her hand in mine.
I turned it over so I could brush a kiss across the palm. She shivered. Her cheeks-tinged pink.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stormy.”
She stuttered briefly. “It’s nice to meet you, Gambit. Willow speaks highly of you.”
“She’s good people. Have you known her long?”
“I met her the night I moved to the city, back in July.”
“Let me give you the tour, then we can head to lunch. Before I take you to the old clubhouse, we can do the interview there.”
“That works. Lead the way.”
I offered her my arm. She took it with a giggle. An innocent giggle. Is that even possible? Damn, she’s cute, sexy, and smart. She had my cock trying to break through my zipper, and I had to give her a tour.
With her hand on my arm, I guided her into the bar area.
We kept the original bar; it spanned three-quarters of one wall. Dark wood polished to a sheen.
“This area is for entertainment. Decker is building a stage here as soon as we know where you want it. The room needs big screens, pool tables, and a lounge area. I want round tables and sturdy chairs in one section. Dart boards, a jukebox, and the bar need to be fully stocked from A-Z. Think you can handle that?”
“Frat house meetsPenthouse?” she said with a straight face.
“Did you steal my thoughts, little girl?”
She laughed, pure unadulterated joy with a tinge of huskiness that hit me like a freight train. Fuck, she’s going to kill me. The intoxicating sound lasted a mere three seconds before she schooled her face. It made him wonder how someone her age could turn off her feelings that fast. She was twenty-three for twelve more days.
Still young for that reaction.
Wizard ran a light background check on her. I hadn’t decided until setting eyes on her to run an in-depth check. Stormy Summer St. James, born September eighth, nineteen-eighty-seven. She had two masters’ degrees, and legit experience in what I need to finish our new clubhouse.
We spent the next hour touring the grounds. I showed her the rest of the clubhouse before taking her on a spur-of-the-moment tour around the grounds. I avoided my mother’s garden. I planned to leave it untouched.
“Ready for lunch?”
“Yes, I’m starving.”
“I know a great place for home cooking,”