Big Bad Beast Page 39
Dee picked up her book. “Actually, what I need is for you to fuck—”
“Lunch!” Ronnie Lee cut in. “We haven’t had lunch yet.” She motioned to the waitress. “Let’s get lunch since we’re already here. You don’t mind if we join you, do you, Dee-Ann?”
“Well—”
“Good!”
One of Ronnie Lee’s cousins snatched Dee’s book from her hand. “Watcha readin’?”
“Reading’s boring,” another cousin complained. “Why read it when you can just watch it on TV?”
Dee crossed her eyes and resigned herself to “Pack time” as her momma always liked to call it.
Of course, when she would say “Pack time,” Dee’s daddy would follow that up with a walk to his favorite shotgun followed by his favorite saying, “Guess it’s time to start the killin’.” If only . . .
Ric walked into his kitchen an hour after lunch service had ended. Adelle was finishing out her shift and laughing at something Stein said while the kid pulled a couple of sizzling steaks from the grill.
Standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest, Ric waited until the kid turned around—and fell back against the ovens.
“Uh . . . Ric. Hi. Uh . . . I was just . . . uh . . . making something to eat for Adelle.” Ric stared at Stein, but didn’t say anything. It was a trick he learned from Dee-Ann and he’d found it was quite effective. Kind of like now.
“She said it was okay . . . and I thought she needed something to eat after all that time working.... It was so busy in here . . . and everyone did a great job . . . and . . . and . . .” Stein winced. “My head’s hot.”
Ric finally spoke, “Because it’s resting against one of the oven doors.” Stein stood tall, pulling his head away and shaking it. Good thing the door wasn’t open—he’d probably have fallen in. “Oh. Right.”
Ric glanced at the still-sizzling steaks on that single long plate. “That’s all for Adelle?” Stein looked at the plate and back up at Ric. “Yeah. Sure. All for Adelle.”
“Then give it to her and get back to work. Those dishes won’t clean themselves.”
“Right. Absolutely.” He put the plate on the counter and scurried back to his sink full of dishes.
Going over the tickets from the lunch run, Adelle shook her head and laughed a little. “You’re being awfully hard on him.”
“I know.” Ric grabbed two forks and two steak knives and maneuvered the plate between them.
“You said yourself he deserves worse.”
“From me. You’re the nice one.” She put her paperwork aside and took the fork and knife handed to her. They both cut off a piece of steak and took a bite.They chewed and gazed at each other.
Finally, Adelle announced, “That’s amazing.”
“Ssssh. Don’t tell him.”
“I mean . . . amazing. ”
“Keep your voice down. I’m not done with him yet. No matter”—he took another bite of steak and groaned—“how damn good this is.”
They continued to eat in silence for several more minutes until Adelle asked, “So explain to me why you had a naked Dee-Ann Smith running around your apartment this morning?” Ric somehow managed to swallow his food without choking on it and answered, “Uh . . . no reason?”
“What is it with you and Van and the weird-eyed girls?”
“Dee’s eyes aren’t weird. They gorgeous. I call them canine gold.”
“You always were an odd but self-contained child, Ulrich.”
“I love her,” he admitted. “I have since I met her.”
“I’m not even going to argue with you about this because the Van Holtz men have the most disturbing taste in women since our first known ancestor, Eberulf the Goat Killer married Himiltrud the Hideous. And clearly you’re no different.”
Ric thought on that a moment and then asked, “Our first ancestor was a goat killer?”
“Ulrich . . . the man had to eat.”
Dee spit the liquid back in the bottle and glared at Rory Lee. “What is this?”
“Non-alcoholic beer.”
“You dare give this to me?”
“That’s all they have.” Rory sat back in the booth of the karaoke bar they were in and asked,
“Why are you here again?”
“Because my cousin’s torturing me.”
“Sometimes you have to pretend to be part of the Pack, darlin’. So when you’re old and grey, they won’t rip your throat out because you’re toothless.”
“That’s lovely. Thank you.”
He leaned in a bit and sniffed her. “You’ve got strange wolf on you.” His eyes narrowed. “Who you been fuckin’?”
“Rory Lee Reed! You speak to me proper!”
“All right.” He lowered his voice several octaves and said, “Who you been fuckin’?” Dee grinned. “Ric Van Holtz.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t tell.”
“Why? You ashamed?”
“Nope. Just seems more dirty that way.”
“You and your dirty fetish.”
“Can’t help it . . . turns me on.”
“Ew.”
“Besides,” Dee went on, “you can’t tell anyone because once Ronnie Lee knows everyone will know.”