by J. L. McCoy
I pursed my lips and crossed my arms over my chest. “Uh-huh. Why do I think there’s more to this than just what you’re telling me?”
Dic laughed and turned to Zephyr. “It’s okay, Zee. She’s not going to bite,” he said under his breath.
What is with those two? Zephyr acts like I’m going to take a shot at Dic or something. I defiantly cocked my eyebrow at Zephyr and looked at him expectantly.
“I’ll be at the bar if you need me, sir,” he growled, displeased, as he stared at me. He finally turned away with a huff and went back to work.
“Okay,” I said slowly with wide eyes, before sarcastically adding, “that wasn’t weird at all.”
“You’ll have to forgive Zephyr, babe,” Dic said as he settled back into the couch and stretched his arms out across the back, getting comfortable. “He’s just doing his job.”
“Did you hire him as a guard dog or something?” I asked sarcastically as I picked up my beer and took a long sip.
Dic threw his head back and laughed heartily. The sound was masculine, rumbly, and incredibly sexy. It did funny things to my stomach and I bit my bottom lip to keep from wiggling in my seat.
“Oh man,” he said finally when his laughter died down. “That’s hilarious. I wouldn’t let him hear you say that, though.” He angled his body toward mine and slowly looked me up and down. “So tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure, Skye?”
“It seems my friend Sissy has a crush on Zephyr,” I explained as I picked at the label on the bottle of beer. “I ran into her earlier and she asked me to have a drink with her here.” I looked up at him and smiled. “I was surprised to see you when you walked in. I had no idea this was your place until Sissy pointed you out to me and told me you were the owner.”
“Well, be sure to thank Sissy for me,” he rumbled as a sly smile played upon his full lips. “I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping to see you again.”
“Well, you know where I work,” I chuckled. “I’m always there.”
“True, but I was hoping to see you outside of work.”
“Oh?” I asked as I felt my cheeks blush and I looked down, refocusing my attention on the beer bottle label. “Why is that?”
Dic reached over and tucked a strand of long hair behind my ear. He smiled mischievously as he studied my face. “Because, Skye, I’d like to get to know you better.”
I bit my lip and took a deep breath. “I should tell you that I’m seeing someone.”
“How long have you been seeing this someone?”
“A few days,” I murmured and licked my lips.
Dic smirked playfully. “What do you say we go get something to eat?” he asked as he dropped his hand from my hair and sat back into the couch. “I’m starving.”
“Sounds good to me,” I smiled. “I’ve only had an apple and beer today.”
Dic tsked and stood up. “That just won’t do. Let me go tell my crew that I’m leaving. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” I said as I turned my attention to the remainder of my Chupahopra. I turned the bottle up and quickly finished its contents. I set the empty bottle on the table, gathered up my bag, and walked up to the bar to pay my tab.
Zephyr finished up with a customer at the smoke shop counter and made his way over to me. “Can I get you something else?” he asked plainly, his eyes bored.
“No thanks,” I said as I pulled out my wallet. “What’s the damage?”
Zephyr looked at me and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s on the house.”
“I’m sorry. What?” I asked, confused, thinking that I had misunderstood him.
“It’s on the house,” he repeated staccato, annunciating each word carefully.
“Um, that’s okay,” I said slowly, uncomfortable with the way he was talking to me. “I’d like to pay.”
“It’s on Dic,” he said over his shoulder as he turned and walked out to attend to a table of customers. “End of discussion.”
I watched his back as he walked away and hesitantly put my wallet back in my messenger bag. Dic came out of the back a few seconds later and walked up to me.
“You ready to go?” he asked with a happy grin.
“Yep,” I said with a lopsided smile. “Thanks for the beer and the smoke, but you didn’t have to do that for me.”
“Are you kidding? It was my pleasure. What good is being an owner if you can’t treat your favorite customers every now and again?”
“You’re sweet,” I smiled and lightly shoulder bumped him. “Thank you.”
“Come on,” he said, putting his arm comfortably around my shoulders. “My car is parked out front.”
I let him lead me to the door and open it for me. I walked beside him to the end of the parking lot and we stopped when we reached a hot, vintage muscle car.
“Is this yours?” I asked, impressed. The early ‘70s model royal blue Dodge Charger was pristine and incredibly cherry.
“It is,” he chuckled. “This is my baby. Duke, meet Skye,” he said as he unlocked the door and held it open for me. “Skye, this is Duke.”
“Duke is seriously sexy,” I grinned appreciatively as I got in.
Dic smiled, cocked his eyebrow, and watched me for a few seconds before he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side.
“What was that look you just gave me?” I asked, trying not to smile as I spoke.
He chuckled as he started the car. “It’s just…,” he started and then looked over at me with a playful smirk. “You look good sitting in my car.”
I felt my face flush hot and I looked down at my hands. Somehow, that one statement was very intimate. Maybe it was just the look in his eyes when he said it, I don’t know.
“Um…thanks?” I managed before I looked back up at him. “So, where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to my favorite barbecue joint down the road,” he smiled over at me before backing out of the parking space. “Their brisket is to die for.”
“Cool. I dig barbecue.”
He smirked knowingly at me, pulled out into traffic, and reached over to turn on the radio. Skulls by the Misfits blasted out of the speakers and I turned to him with a grin.
“Misfits fan?” I asked, impressed.
“Always,” he winked.
“Bummer that they broke up,” I said conversationally. “Glenn Danzig has an amazing voice. Are you into his subsequent bands: Samhain and Danzig?”
“Of course. I’ve been to several of his shows over the years. ”
“I’ve never had the pleasure, unfortunately,” I said with a small sigh. “I do enjoy going to concerts, though.”
“What’s the last concert you went to?”
“Aside from trying to catch every local Manky Langer show, a friend and I drove up to Dallas to see System of a Down three weeks ago,” I smiled as I looked over at him. “Serg Tankian is something else. I love that his songs contain such a strong social message.”
“It has nothing to do with how hard he rocks it?” Dic laughed.
“Well, a little of that, too,” I chuckled. “What other bands do you listen to?”
Dic smiled a heart stopping smile and quickly looked over at me. “I’m a huge Pantera fan. Texas boys know how to rock the hardest,” he said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.
I laughed and shook my head at him. “I love Pantera.”
“What’s your favorite song?”
“Hm…that’s a hard one,” I said and pursed my lips in thought. “I’d have to say Walk is my favorite song.”
“That’s mine, too,” Dic grinned as he drove. “I also like old school Metallica…none of that new crap they put out. Anything after the ‘And Justice For All’ album is shit.”
“Hey,” I defended. “Don’t hate on the ‘Black’ album. It was good.” I glanced over at him and saw that he was looking at me with a thoughtful smile. “Anything after the ‘Black’ album is shit,” I gave him.
He laughed and focused back on the road. �
��I think we’re going to get along just fine, babe.”
A few minutes later we pulled into a small parking lot that housed an even smaller brick building. The painted sign out front read: “Jax Meat Market & BBQ”
“I’ve never been here before,” I said as Dic opened the car door for me.
“It’s been owned by the same family for over 60 years,” he explained as he helped me out, closed the door, and led me into the entrance.
“Look at what the cat dragged in!” an old man laughed from behind the meat counter. “Well, if it isn’t that old dog Dic! How’ve you been son?”
The gray haired man walked unsteadily from behind the raw meat counter and came over to shake Dic’s hand.
“Hey, Jack,” Dic rumbled affectionately. “I’ve been good, old man.” Dic turned to me and put his hand on my back. “This is my friend Skye. Skye, I’d like you to meet the best meat slinger in the south. This is Jack. He’s owned this place with his family since it opened.”
“Nice to meet you, Jack,” I smiled brightly and shook his calloused hand. “It smells amazing in here!”
“Well, sit yourself down, youngen’,” he said as he motioned to one of the picnic tables. “I’ll fix Dic here the house special.” I watched as he walked over to the barbecue counter and got to work cutting meat.
Dic smiled affectionately at the old man and then turned back to me. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”
Dic walked over to join Jack and I took a seat at a picnic table by the window. I took a good look around at the décor as I waited. Jax was a simple place with simple furnishings. There were roughly six picnic tables scattered around and most of them were full of hungry customers. The walls were decorated in old metal beer and gasoline signs and family photos from when Jax first opened.
“Here we go,” Dic said as he returned and sat down across from me.
He set a butcher’s paper bundle in the center of the table and spread it out to cover the space between us. There was brisket, sausage, a half slab of baby back ribs, bread and all the trimmings piled in the middle of the paper. Dic tore two napkins off the paper towel roll at the end of the table and handed me one along with a plastic fork.
“Dig in, babe,” he said with a smile as he started piling meat on a piece of bread.
I smiled and did the same. “This is absolute heaven,” I purred as I chewed my first bite. The brisket was tender and moist. I liked how Jack didn’t cover up the pure flavor of the meat with the use of BBQ sauce. The meat stood on its own merit and it was amazing.
“I had a feeling you’d like it,” he nodded. “So Skye, tell me a little about yourself. I feel like I know you from our meetings at The Mausoleum, but I really don’t. I’m very curious about you.”
I felt my cheeks redden a little as I chewed the rest of my bite and dabbed my lips with the paper napkin. “Um, well, there isn’t a whole lot to tell,” I said shrugging one shoulder. “I was born and raised in Houston and I moved to Austin to go to school.”
“What did you major in?”
“Ancient History and Classical Civilization.”
“And you work at a nightclub?” he asked, confused.
I nodded my head as I picked at the crust on my bread. “I haven’t had any luck finding a job that uses my degree so far. But I just got the job at The Mausoleum and I love it. I can’t see myself leaving anytime soon.” As long as it doesn’t get too crazy, I added silently.
“How did you get end up getting mixed up with Archer Rhys?” he asked with a frown.
I looked up at him and felt my brow furrow. He was watching me closely, waiting for my answer. “Archer isn’t a bad guy, Dic. I don’t know what his reputation is like out on the street, but he’s a cool guy and a great boss.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” he said with a crooked smile as he bit into a sausage link.
My lips pulled up into a small smile at the memory of how we met. “Well, I was at Afterburners downtown having a coffee when my ex-boyfriend showed up and started in on me.” The thought of Jesse made my heart hurt and I felt the smile slide right off my face. I had a flashback of his bloody blond hair clutched in Ruarc’s fist and I closed my eyes and involuntarily shivered.
“Are you okay?” Dic asked worriedly.
“Yeah,” I mumbled as I mentally shook myself and took a deep breath. I couldn’t fall apart in front of Dic. Not only would it be über embarrassing, but he wouldn’t understand and I definitely couldn’t tell him what happened to Jesse. “Anyway,” I said with the best fake smile I could muster, “Archer saw my ex get a little rough with me and he intervened. We got to talking and he asked if I wanted to interview for his Executive Assistant position. Needless to say, I got the job.”
“Do you like it so far?” he asked as he watched me. I had a feeling he wasn’t buying my fake smile.
“I do,” I nodded and gave him a genuine smile. “Everyone is really great. It’s an interesting atmosphere to work in.”
“I’ll bet,” Dic said quietly under his breath as me made himself another brisket sandwich, then looked up at me and smiled. The dimple on his right cheek was deeper than the one on the left when he grinned and it was really cute. I found myself studying his face and thinking how handsome he was. “So, enough about work, what do you do for fun?”
“Nope,” I chuckled as I speared a slice of sausage with my fork. “It’s my turn to ask a question.” He chuckled and motioned for me to go ahead with his hand. “What do you do for fun?” I asked, biting into the juicy piece of meat.
He raised his eyebrow at me and smiled at my stolen question. “I like to work on classic cars in my spare time,” he answered and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I like to salvage classic rides from the junk yard and give them new life. I completely redo them, inside and out. Once they’re ready to go, I sell them.”
“Sweet. Is that what you did with your Charger?”
“No,” he smiled wistfully. “It was my dad’s. He gave it to me when I turned 16.”
“Nice gift,” I raised my eyebrows, impressed.
“The best,” he agreed and then cocked his head to the side with a playful smile. “So, what do you do for fun?”
I bit the corner of my bottom lip and speared a hunk of brisket before I answered. “Well, you already know one,” I teased. “I love to dance. I also read, paint, study Israeli Krav Maga, and I like to sing karaoke.”
Dic raised his eyebrows and his eyes got big. “You study Krav Maga?” he chuckled skeptically. I cocked my eyebrow, slightly unamused at his skepticism, and nodded my head as I took a bite of the brisket, pickle and raw onion half sandwich I made.
“But…,” he started and then stopped himself. “It’s just that you don’t seem the type.”
“What does ‘the type’ look like?”
He studied me for a second before he answered. “Not like you, beautiful girl.”
My face flushed hot and I struggled not to smile. “You’re just a regular Casanova, aren’t you? Do you feed all the girls you take out to dinner that line of crap?”
Dic laughed heartily as he finished the last bite of his sandwich. “Just the pretty ones.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled. Dic was cute, playful, and a lot of fun and I realized that I was really enjoying our dinner together more than I had anticipated.
“So,” Dic said slowly, a look of uncertainty marring his handsome face. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but it’s really bugging me and I can’t just keep pretending that it’s not there. Why do you have bruises on your face, throat, and arms? You look like someone kicked the shit out of you today.”
My hand immediately went to the left side of my face and I gingerly touched the swollen mass. “Someone did,” I chuckled. “But I think I held my own pretty well.” His face frowned and I quickly explained. “I’ve been doing some extra training, knives and hand-to-hand combat, and my teacher is new. We were testing each other’s waters, so to speak. It isn’t as bad
as it looks.”
“I’m glad,” he grimaced and bit into a piece of sausage, “Because it looks pretty damn painful.”
“I’m used to bruises,” I shrugged, “Comes with the territory.”
He chewed his bite as he looked at me thoughtfully. “You’re a pretty tough chick,” he grinned. “I like that.”
I blushed and looked down at my food. “So, how long have you lived in Austin?” I asked.
“All my life,” Dic answered as he tore a rib from the half-rack. “I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else. Besides, we sort of have a family business here. I can’t really just up and leave.”
“Tricky Dic’s?” I asked as I accepted the rib that he offered me.
“No, no,” he mumbled between his bite. “That’s all mine. I opened it about ten years ago.”
“Wow,” my eyebrows raised in surprise. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Dic chuckled as he got up from his seat. “Old enough,” he replied cryptically. I watched as he walked over to a wall cooler and pulled out two bottles of beer. He lifted them up a little to show Jack that he had taken them. Jack gave him a thumbs up as Dic walked back to the picnic table. He sat back down and twisted off one of the beer caps.
“Thanks,” I said as I accepted the bottle of Zeigenbock. “So, you’re not going to tell me how old you are?”
Dic smirked as he twisted his own top off. “I’d like to hear your guess.”
“Hm,” I mumbled in thought as I put the bottle up to my lips and took a long drink, my eyes studying his face. “26,” I guessed when I put my beer back down on the wooden table.
He laughed and shook his head. “Nope.”
“28?”
“Nuh-uh,” he smirked and took a bite out of the last rib.
“You can’t be older than 29,” I said, my forehead wrinkled in thought.
“Close,” he chuckled as he wiped the grease from his lips. “I’m 30.”
“Holy crap, you’re kind of old,” I joked as I took a big bite out of my pork rib. “You totally don’t look it, though.”
“Thanks…I think,” he smiled and took a sip of beer. “I feel it sometimes.”
