Mal shifted closer. “You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.” I took his hand in mine and squeezed his fingers. His touch sent electric sparks along my arms.
Mal kissed me. Deep and fast. I returned his kiss with a stupid hunger, but broke it off just as fast. “We can’t,” I whispered. “He’ll come back.”
“I know, but he’s not here now.”
“Mal,” I said, half moan, half plea.
He didn’t push me, even though his eyes said that he wanted to. “We’ve gotta tell him, Cap. I don’t want to keep sneaking around.”
“I don’t either.” I grinned a little, head tilted. “It is kind of fun though.”
He laughed and kissed me quickly. “I particularly like the part where I appear in your room in the middle of the night to do all the filthy shit I couldn’t do during the day.”
My eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “That’s you? I’ve never been sure. It’s always too dark.”
He laughed but his grip on me ratcheted harder. “Don’t tease me like that. You might just make me go crazy.”
“Maybe I want you crazy.”
He let out a soft growl and forced himself to move away. I wanted him close again, but Carmine appeared a second later and slumped back into the booth.
He glanced between us and frowned. “What’d I miss?”
“Mal was telling me about a dream he had.” I paused and put on a deep, fake frown. “It was extremely disgusting.”
“Filthy,” Mal deadpanned.
Carmine groaned. “Sex dreams, Mal? Come on, man. When was the last time you got laid?”
Mal shrugged and chugged his beer.
Carmine got back up to get another drink. I grinned at Mal and nudged him, and he winked and nudged me back. “Those were dreams?” he asked quietly. “I could’ve sworn they were reality.”
“You’ve been sleepwalking, that’s all. Nothing but a fantasy.”
“You’re much better than any fantasy I can come up with.”
“Then you’re not very creative.”
He grinned and Carmine came back. He slammed the glass down.
“I just decided something,” he said, still standing at the end of the table. He put his hands on his hips and looked around.
“Decided what?” I asked, inching away from Mal.
“I’m gonna buy this place.”
I blinked a few times and glanced at Mal. He seemed as perplexed as I felt.
“You’re going to… do what?” I asked.
“Buy the Lowdown.” Carmine looked at us. “What do you think?”
“You’re insane,” Mal said quietly.
“What Mal’s trying to say is, you’re absolutely out of your mind.”
Carmine’s grin was huge and unhinged. Exactly how I remembered. “I know it seems that way, but hear me out. We need to start building support in the neighborhood again. What better way than to invest in local businesses? We’ll rehab this place, sell the locals cheap beer, and launder money through the registers.”
“Laundering money implies an income,” Mal pointed out. “We don’t have that yet.”
“We will. We’re working with a drug cartel, remember?” Carmine nodded to himself. “This is a great idea.”
“Do you even have money?” I asked.
“I have money,” Carmine said quietly. “Lots of fucking money. My parents left it all to me and I happened to know a good, discreet lawyer. Money isn’t a problem. It’s how to spend the money.”
He went quiet. Mal sat up straight and gazed around the place. I sighed and played along. The Lowdown was a wreck. It looked like a fire hazard. There was no way in hell Carmine should try to buy it.
But he was going to, and I almost liked the idea of owning a bar. Well, not me, but our little group.
“Do it,” I said. “Go see if that old bartender wants to retire early.”
“Early?” Carmine snorted. “More like ten years too late.” He turned to face the bartender. “How much should I offer him?”
“I don’t know,” Mal said, rolling his eyes at me.
“Give him a million,” I said, half-joking.
“Done,” Carmine said and strode off.
I gaped as he walked away and turned to Mal. “Is he joking? A million for this shithole?”
“You never know with him,” Mal said, frowning.
I watched Carmine lean over the bar. The old bartender walked over and glared at him. Carmine said something, kept talking, and the bartender listened. He shook his head. Carmine gestured around, spoke some more. The bartender said something, shrugged, and turned back to the game.
Carmine returned, grinning.
“I honestly have no clue how that went,” I said.
He pointed at himself. “You’re looking at the new future owner of the Lowdown Bar and Grill.”
“Grill?” Mal grunted. “There’s no grill within a mile radius of this place.”
“Congratulations, I think,” I said.
Carmine laughed, threw back his drink, and slammed it down again. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Things are happening.” He strode off to the door.
“Good old Carmine,” Mal said softly.
I laughed and slid out. Before I left, I turned as Mal stood and towered over me. “We’ll tell him soon,” I said, squeezed his hand, then walked off.