Page 89 of Rough

He patted me on the back. “Thanks. Got tired of the sweats and tee shirt routine. Deann helped me get dressed all by herself. Took an hour and a fuckin’ half, though.”

I inhaled a long slow breath through my nose. “It smells good in here.”

“Deann’s going nuts. Don’t know what got into that woman. Must be our approaching anniversary.”

“She must be.” I took a few steps, inhaled another breath, and then turned around. “What is it? That she’s cooking?”

“Hell, it’s hard saying with her. But whatever you do, don’t go in there. She hates people dicking around in the kitchen when she’s trying to cook.”

“That’s good to know.” I let out a light laugh, not knowing if he was joking or telling the truth.

“Care to eat with us? I’m sure there’s going to be plenty.”

Spending time with Brad’s parents sounded like a great idea. “Sure, I’d love to.”

“Well, we’d sure like to have you.”

The sound of Brad’s motorcycle pulling into the driveway caught my attention. Bradley looked at me and grinned. “What a surprise, sounds like Brad’s here.”

I was of the understanding that Brad was going to be busy with club business all day, and was surprised that he had finished. I tried not to act anxious, but doubted I was very convincing.

“I’ll get the door,” I said, knowing I’d left it unlocked, and there was no need. I pulled it open and smiled.

He was coming up the steps.

“Hi.”

He met my gaze and grinned. “How’s it going?”

“I got invited for dinner.” I widened my eyes comically. “And, it smells really good.”

“I got invited to move a bed.” He leaned close “Pop was in a weird mood this morning,” he whispered.

“Seems to be in a good one, now.”

“Who knows with him.” He stepped onto the landing and kissed me lightly. “Fucker called me Brad.”

I chuckled. “Better than the circus clown.”

We turned and walked in together.

“Well what have we here?” Bradley said. “Don’t you two fuckers look cute together. Deann, come in here and look at this.”

Brad crossed his arms. “Jesus, Pop. We’re just standing here. It’s no big deal. Fuck.”

Deann stepped through the doorway and smiled. “You two look cute together. Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat. Help your father, Brad.”

“I came to move the bed,” Brad said.

Deann looked confused. “What bed?”

“Your bed.”

“Stop being silly and wash your hands.” She turned around. “It’s time for dinner.”

Brad looked at Bradley. “Pop?”

Bradley shrugged. “Guess she doesn’t want to move it. Women. When you figure them out, let me know.”