Sylvie reappeared from the kitchen with a coffee cup and handed it to Cillian. She knew the drill.
“Thanks, Sylv. You’re an angel.” He kissed her cheek as he took the cup and Sylvie blushed at the attention.
“Oh, get off. I always make you a coffee. Stop flirting with me. I’m old enough to be your nan.”
“I like older women.” He was outrageous, but Sylvie loved it, I could tell.
“Not my age you d
on’t. I’d eat you alive, Cill James.” She slapped his arm playfully and wandered past me and out of the living area, giving me a flirty grin. I laughed. Sylvie still had it, even if she didn’t know she did. I bet Mr Turner was a contented man.
“Did you want something, or did you just come here today to hit on any females you found in my apartment?” Jackson wasn’t amused at all. Now there’s a surprise.
“I’m bored. I thought Ryley might like to come out for the day with me.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but I wasn’t fast enough.
“She’s busy, so if there’s nothing else, you can come to work with me.”
“No, I’m not,” I piped up.
Cillian looked across at me and grinned as he took in my scantily clad appearance yet again. I was starting to feel naked with all the attention I was getting. That was a first for me; usually, I couldn’t care less.
“I was going to go shopping for a new dress. I need one for the weekend when I finally get to see my man.”
“You’re going to visit the rat?” he said, choking on his coffee and side-eyeing Jackson suspiciously.
“Jeez, will you stop with that name! And yes, we’re going to see him.”
Cillian shook his head and gave Jackson a, ‘What the fuck are you thinking?’ glare.
“She wants to go. Who am I to stop her?” He glared back and the two of them stood staring for what felt like an age before Cillian broke eye contact and looked back over at me.
“If the dress you choose is anything like that one, I’m in. Where are we shopping?”
Jackson folded his arms and barked out, “No,” in frustration at his flirty friend.
“Oh, come on, Jax. You can come too. It’ll be fun.”
“Why would I want to go shopping?” he asked in exasperation.
An idea sprang into my mind and I couldn’t hold myself back.
“What about the barbecue?” I gave him a wicked grin and watched as his evil little mind started to join the dots together.
“What barbecue?” Cillian asked, looking from Jackson to me and back again.
“My uncle Mick, you know, the mayor, he’s invited us to a barbecue on Sunday. Now, I’ve seen you wear suits, but nothing else. What are you gonna wear? Because you can’t rock up to an afternoon barbecue in an Armani suit.”
“I have sweats.”
I laughed at his crazy-ass response.
“We’re going to network, not work out. You can’t wear sweats.”
It was kinda adorable that he was so totally clueless.
“Okay, so I’ll wear my suit without the jacket.”