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He chuckles and turns back to Molly. “Good seeing you again, darlin’.” “You too.” That little fucker flutters his eyes.
My competency kink is in full overdrive that my florist slash stripper can talk cars with Taylor and hold his own.
“This little darlin’ came into my life by pure dumb luck. I’d just opened the garage, some out-of-towner was taking a cruise in her, and she broke down on him.
“Because I’m not a cock slut like you?” He opens his mouth like he’s about to argue but then changes direction. “I kinda am, aren’t I?”
“Just never really thought about it that way. Think Heath will call me that tonight?” “What did we just say about details?”
“So when’s your turn?” Art’s laugh is loud. “That will be the one journey I never go on.” He looks across the room, toward the bar. “Why fall in love once when you can fall in lust a million times over?”
You’re a great guy, and I know you probably have men lining up to take you out—” “I don’t. I don’t have anyone. Because every time I think I have a chance with a guy, he decides I’m not good enough.”
“Yeah. Like you smoosh together. Combine souls or whatever romantic shit people say.” “And you guys are mushed?” He nods. “You too. Like one big, amorphous blob.”
Molly slants another quick look at me, frown falling deep. “Are you dressed as a mustard bottle?” “Yep.” “I’m really struggling to have a serious conversation with you like that.” “And yet you mustard the strength to anyway.” “Urg.
