“I do but I took some time off to take care of you. Remember the whole not leaving your side thing?”
“You were serious?” I groaned and rolled my eyes.
“I was serious,” he said, dark chocolate pecs just inches from my suddenly watering mouth. Was that due to the muscles or the pancakes he’d started to make? Who the hell knew or cared?
“Go in to work today, Jag. I’ll come with you and hang out at the shop. You have wi-fi there, don’t you?”
By way of an answer he slid a plate full of heaven at me. “Eat.”
“Okay!” He didn’t have to tell me twice. The pancakes were fluffy and just sweet enough to need nothing but a pat of butter and the bacon was crispy, fatty and delicious. How did he put that together so fast? Had I been drooling over him without noticing it?
“I thought you wanted to go into the shop,” he bit out and I looked up, confused.
“I do. But, you’re not even finished eating yet.”
He smirked. “And I won’t get to if you don’t stop making noises while you eat that make my dick hard, Vivi.”
Damn I love the way he said my name, like it was an oath or a prayer. No wonder women lost their shit over certain men.
I pushed my plate away. Breakfast was getting complicated as shit. “I’ll go get my stuff and meet you outside.” I was pretty sure he mumbled “thank fuck” as I left the kitchen, but I decided not to call him on it. The man was trying to help after all.
I hoped.
***
We were inside GET INK’D for nearly an hour when Jag finally muttered, “Why in the hell did I listen to you? We could have stayed home and gotten all blissed out in my big bed. I haven’t had one customer all day.” He glared at me and I pretended to be engrossed in a book on my tablet.
“Feel free to go out there and drum up some business,” Golden Boy, the owner said to him, catching him by surprise. Behind us, Lasso laughed so hard his broad shoulders shook.
“I’m good, thanks. But we’re leaving soon,” he said with his unhappy gaze aimed my way.
I shrugged but the chimes over the door sounded before I could come up with a smartass comment and a group of four well-dressed women walked in wearing bachelorette sashes.
“Hello honey,” the leader of the pack said to Golden Boy. “Do you work here?” Her sweet southern accent was thick and cultured.
“Nope. They’re keeping me here against my will.”
With a hand to her chest the woman laughed prettily. “Lucky you. I hear these boys are h-o-t hot! Anyone back there?”
Jag came out first with Lasso right behind him. “How can I help you ladies?”
“My goodness but you do grow ’em big here don’tcha? I’m the bride and I want a piercing.”
Jag smiled. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, lady.”
Her eyes flashed appreciation. “I want my clit pierced. That specific enough for ya, sugar?”
“Yep. But ah,” Jag rubbed his neck and I held my breath, waiting to see what he’d say. Though the woman was braced for the worst, I didn’t think that was the kind of man Jeremiah had grown into.
“Spit it out, big guy.”
“Well it says you’re the bride, so I assume that means you’re getting married soon?”
She nodded, arms crossed in a stance that said she would fight if she had to. “And you have a problem with that?”
“For fuck’s sake lady, your clit might not be healed in time for your honeymoon!”
I sucked in a breath at the same time she did. But before I could recover, the southern belle beamed a smile at him. “That’s mighty sweet of you, mister. Let’s go with the nipples then?”