I plop an armful of limes on the bar top.
“It’s a rude way for someone to ask or request how much you’re willing to pay them,” Jack says as he starts cutting the limes into wedges. “Who were you talking to that said, ‘show me the green?’”
Light bulb.It was green,notcream. I feel like my job is done here. If I’m not making at least one Riggs family member uncomfortable, then it doesn’t feel like a successful Sunday dinner.
“G, can you show up around 7 p.m. on Friday?” Law asks, as he sidles up next to me at the bar.
“What’s Friday night?” Everly asks.
I dip a piece of lemon in the sugar dish. “Bachelor party.”
“She’s going to do tattoos for the bachelor party we’ve got coming in next weekend.”
Jack comes up behind Everly and drops a kiss on her neck. “What’s happening next weekend?”
“Big bachelor party. One of my boys is finally getting married,” Law says.
“Is this the baseball player?”
Everly shifts, grabbing her drink. “No clue. He said, ‘my boys.’ I tuned the rest out.”
“Yes, it’s the baseball player! Want to come? There’s going to be tattoos by our girl over here.” Law starts ticking off more on his fingers. “There’s a Bourbon and meat pairing that Henry’s pulling together, a burlesque show for some entertainment, and I might try to see if we can do something a little boujee the next day.”
“Don’t say boujee,” Michael chimes in.
“You will not judge, or your invite will be revoked.”
“I didn’t really want to go anyway,” Michael says, lifting a shoulder.
“What!? Blasphemy. Your ass will be there.”
Michael just laughs. “You invite Dad?”
“Duh. But he’ll only make an appearance if he’s bored.”
I chime in, mostly because I’m curious. “Is Sheriff Muldowney going?” I take a sip of water and then chase it with a sip of the lemon drop martini that’s just waiting to be downed in front of me.
Henry laughs from the other side of the room.
“What’s so funny?” I shriek back.
“You’re not his type, G,” Michael says.
I raise my brows. “I know. Just asking for a friend.” I smile. Looking back at Henry, he’s very obviously surveying the way I’m leaning forward on the bar. I watch as his eyes drag down to my ass and up my legs. He licks his lips.
Me too, big guy, me too.
Asher jogs down from upstairs. That man is aDILFin every sense of the stupidity of the word. The silver fox wears a three-piece suit at the office, but everywhere else, he’s usually rocking some kind of chest-huggin’ sweater and nicely fitted jeans that probably cost more than my rent. Today it’s a chunky navy sweater and lighter washed blue jeans. Did I mention he likes to walk around barefoot? Even when it’s fucking freezing outside.
“Daddy Riggs, you going to this bachelor party on Friday?” He smiles wide at me. “I’ve got the perfect tattoo for you,” I sing-song.
“We’ll see. I have a few things with the town council I need to work through, and that means buttering them up with some good steaks this Friday.”
I pout and stick out my lower lip. He comes over and kisses my forehead. “I’ll stop by this week at the shop, and you can tell me what tattoos you have in mind, kiddo.”
That makes me smile. “Deal.” As much as I joke about Asher and all of his hotness, he really is like a surrogate parent.
“Time to eat yet? I’m starved.”