Tripped Out: A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella
Page 18
“About that…” She bit her lip. “I cannot have sex when my parents are in the house.”
“Sure you can have sex.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you can’t come with your parents around?”
“Yes. I won’t be able to come.”
“Is that a fact? Or a theory? Because if it’s a fact, then it would be a proven fact with another man. Not a proven fact with me. I’m the variable. So then we’re back to square one. I need to prove the hypothesis, which means you have to have sex with me to disprove the theory.”
“Are you seriously going all ‘Dr. Argent’ on me right now?”
Liam tugged her against him. “All Dr. Argent, all over you, all of the time. Now let’s go start some research.”
Chapter Fifteen
It wasn’t weird having breakfast Sunday morning with her parents and Liam.
Liam, who’d disproven her “theory” five times last night.
Five. Times.
When their eyes met, Dr. Cocky smirked. He knew exactly where her mind had wandered.
Stirling’s mom refilled everyone’s coffee and settled across from Liam.
The tilt of her head and the nonchalant way she held her cup offered the impression of docility, but Berlin Gradsky was about as docile as a tiger. And now her total focus was on Liam.
He’d better like things hot because he was about to get grilled.
“So, Liam. You’re a mystery to us. Macon calls you brilliant, but for the past year, my daughter has called you…arrogant, annoying, irritating, a know-it-all. Am I wrong about that?”
“No. But she also called me asshat, asshole, a douche canoe, and a dickhead.” Liam glanced at Stirling. “Am I missing any, crazy pants?”
The man deserved the dick-punch she planned to give him when they were alone. “Just fuckwad, fuckhead, fuck-weasel, and fucktard off the top of my head, sugar buns.” Ha. Snicker. Two could play. If he kept this up she’d start calling him sugar balls.
“How long have you been involved?” her mother asked.
Liam said, “Define involved.”
“More than coworkers.”
They answered “Ten months” simultaneously.
Stirling’s dad snorted behind his newspaper.
“But now you two are officially dating?” her mother pressed.
Liam sliced off another bite of pancake. “We haven’t gone out on a traditional ‘date date’ per se, but we have spent time together outside of working hours. I plan to take Stirling out and do date-y type things when we return to Denver.”
“What kind of date-y things?” Stirling asked, expecting he’d say something smartass-y.
“Hiking. I love going into the mountains. I didn’t get a chance to do that when I lived here as a kid.”
Oh, that was sweet.
“I’ve got tickets to a demolition derby. I take kickboxing classes at Black Arts and they’re sponsoring an MMA fight. And Stirling mentioned learning to unicycle, which I’m singularly pumped about.”
Singularly pumped. There was his sly humor.
But her mother wasn’t satisfied. “Do you worry that after working together all day, you won’t be as eager to spend time together afterhours?”
Stirling’s father set down his newspaper with a loud snap. “For godsake, Berlin, give it a rest. We’ve worked together every day for almost forty years and you’re still eager to spend time with me afterhours, aren’t ya, buttercup?”
Holy crap. Her mother blushed!
“Besides, we know everything we need to about Liam,” her dad continued. “Macon trusts him and Stirling is more than half in love with him.”
Way to point that out, Dad.
But Liam’s eyes met hers. The softness and happiness she saw slayed her.
“If she’s half in love with me, and I’m half in love with her…” He smiled shyly. “I say we’ve come full circle.”
Stirling melted.
“That was genuinely sweet and romantic…” A sniffle sounded behind her mother’s napkin. “It’s a relief to see that you two really like each other. You’re not together because it’s convenient. Or due to your mutual love of cannabis.”
Of course her mother would be worried about that.
“Seems to have worked for us,” her dad said with a wink.
“Charleston!”
“Way, way, way too much information, people,” Stirling complained.
Liam offered, “Chuck, if you’re in the mood for a cannabis variety that really gets—”
Stirling clapped her hand over Liam’s mouth. “TMI, dude. Seriously. That’s my dad.”
A horn started beeping outside.
“Chuck, did you sit on your key fob again?” her mother asked.
“No. It’s hanging up by the door.”
“Then what is that noise?” She got up from the table and everyone followed her.
The horn continued to honk until they were out on the front porch.
Macon leapt out of the driver’s side and yelled, “We did it, Argent!”
“Did what?”
“We won! We won the 420 Cup! The committee let me know last night. I was on an international flight so I had to keep the news to myself for ten hours. But goddammit, you did it!”
Liam had gone statue-still beside Stirling.
“What is my business partner talking about, Dr. Argent?”
He said nothing.
Macon bounded up the steps and said, “C’mere bro!” and pulled Liam into a hug.
It seemed Liam didn’t know what to do with his arms, which was adorable, so he just sort of patted Macon’s back while Macon squeezed the crap out of him.
“Will someone please tell me what is going on?”
“This guy here,” Macon actually gave Liam a noogie, “crafted—and I do mean motherfucking crafted—a new varietal that we entered in the 420 Cup. And it took first place. First place! This is so gonna put us on top! Rolling in the green, baby, literally!”
“Time out, Macon. You’re telling me that you entered a High Society varietal in the 420 Cup and didn’t tell me?” Stirling demanded.
“I’m telling you now,” he pointed out. “And the good news is we won. Liam can take credit for his brilliant strain, like he never got to do publicly with Livin’ Large. This is why I hired him. It took him months to get it right, but get it right he did.”
“This is why you wouldn’t tell me what Dr. Argent was working on?”
“In his defense, it wasn’t all he was working on,” Macon added.
Stirling faced Liam.
Liam flashed her that sexy grin. “On a scale of one to ten…how mad are you at me right now?”
“At you? Not at all. I wanna high-five you until our palms bleed because that is awesome news.” Stirling stalked her brother. “You, on the other hand, Macon Moneybags, should have told me that you dropped one hundred thousand dollars on a goddamned contest. I am your business partner. Partners tell each other stuff!”
“It was a hundred grand to enter the 420 Cup?” Liam demanded.
“It keeps the fly-by-night black-market dope dealers out of the running. A win is a game changer, Stirling. We can expand. You’ll get your investment back in no time and you can do that organic gardening thing—”
“Yeah, about that…” She lifted her chin. “I changed my mind. I like what I’m doing now. You can’t deny I’m good at it.”
“When did this happen? Just over a week ago you were yelling at me for the extended timeline to recoup your original investment. You said it wasn’t what you wanted.”
“Maybe what I wanted was always right in front of me.”
Macon blinked at her with total confusion. “You mean High Society?”
“Yes. And…” Don’t look at Liam. Don’t look at Liam.
“And Liam.” A happy little smile settled on her mom’s lips. “I imagine you were as surprised as we were when they told you they were together.”
Oh shit.
“These two?” Macon gestured between them. “Are together? Like a couple?”
“Yes.” Her mom frowned at her. “Your brother does know that you and Liam are involved?”
Stirling shook her head.
“Stirling! Why on earth didn’t you tell him?”
“Because there’s nothing to tell, Mom.” Macon’s laser focus landed on Stirling. “Is there?”
She stared back. Today her brother wasn’t in character. No slicked back hair. No ugly Western-cut polyester suit. No cowboy boots. Instead he looked like a successful executive, dressed down for the weekend in jeans, loafers, and a sleek mock-turtleneck. It made zero sense that Macon wouldn’t want the world to see him like this.
“Well?”
“Liam and I are a couple, Macon. Deal with it.”
“Are you two pranking me right now?”
Given their history… no wonder Macon couldn’t believe they’d fallen for each other.
Liam said, “No prank. We are one hundred thousand percent together. If you doubt us, ask any High Society employee. We ruled the water cooler talk last week.”
Macon’s gaze winged back and forth between them. “I swear I didn’t see this one coming. Congrats on getting it on and all that, but don’t make my life hell, okay? No mushy stuff out of either of you.”
“The only mushy stuff I’m familiar with is hash,” Liam said.
Stirling laughed. “My man is hot, smart, and has an awesome sense of humor. So I’m in for the long haul. I’ll stay invested and help High Society grow into a better business, which doesn’t necessarily mean a bigger business.”
“You aren’t seeing the larger picture, Stirling,” Macon argued.
“And that’s all you see. You don’t care about…”
Neither of them noticed when Liam backed away.
* * * *
While Macon and Stirling continued to quarrel Chuck stepped up beside Liam.
Liam asked, “Have they always been like this?”
Chuck sighed. “Always. Are they like this at work too?”
“Yes.”
“Actually,” Berlin said moving alongside her husband, “this is tame compared to the damage three angry Gradsky kids can do when they’re in the same room together.”
“Kids, as in…when they were young? Or now as your adult kids?”
“Both,” Chuck said. “They yell and scream and tell each other off. Then they’re over it. Doesn’t mean Berlin and I weren’t concerned about Macon and Stirling going into business together. But that seems to have worked out okay.”
Just then Stirling threw her hands up in the air and yelled at Macon, “If we’re going to continue this stupid conversation, I need to reload on gummies.”
“Great,” Macon shot back. “I could use an entire bottle to get through this discussion with the queen of stubbornness.”
“No way, get your own.”
“She’s always been terrible at sharing,” Chuck confided.
“Family fighting and forgiving…grudges and all that is a foreign concept to an only child like me.” Then Liam stiffened. Maybe he shouldn’t have blabbed his insecurities to Stirling’s parents first thing.
“Don’t worry. You’re bright, you’ll catch on. If not… We’ll teach you.” Berlin patted his arm. “Welcome to the family, Liam.”
Epilogue
Six months later…
Stirling juggled her insulated coffee mug and her lunchbox as she set the alarm for the condo she shared with Liam.
“Need help?” her neighbor Evan asked.
She smiled at him. “No, but thanks.”
“Don’t you and Liam usually ride to work together?”
“Usually, but he”—was incredibly pissy about something this morning—“had to go in early.” Their poor employees. It might be a bickering twins throwback day.
“So we’re on for the pool tournament tomorrow night?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Watching Liam annihilate the competition with his methodical pool playing…something sexy about that. And not just because he had to bend over the pool table, giving her an eyeful of his amazing ass.
“See you then.”
She waved at Evan and then at Amber across the parking lot before she climbed into her car.
Moving into this upscale community three months ago had turned out to be one of their better decisions when they decided to live together. Their neighbors were mostly couples with no kids, professionals who worked as many hours as she and Liam did. With weekly social events sponsored by the condo owners association, they were making friends together, which was a new experience for both of them. Being happy and free to be themselves in their relationship was still mind-boggling because neither of them believed they’d ever find that kind of acceptance and love.
And hot, hot, hot sex that hadn’t cooled one bit since they became lovers.
Stirling sipped her coffee as she wove in and out of traffic. She hated not knowing why Liam had stomped off mad this morning. While things were great, they still had their argumentative moments. She’d made him lunch—a deviled ham sandwich—hoping that would soften his bad mood.
She parked by the fence at High Society and considered going into the grow house since that’s where Liam usually was first thing in the morning. But she’d left several things unfinished last night that needed her attention.
With Cheney doing a kick-ass job managing the employees, Stirling had more time for promo, which became a necessity after winning the 420 Cup. It had changed everything, business wise, as Macon had predicted. Most of it good, like keeping the High Society cannabis strain exclusive to their dispensary. Some of it risky, like their decision to grow hemp on fifty of the two hundred acres she owned. They’d plant one crop in the spring and go from there.
In the reception area of her office, she set down her lunchbox and coffee mug to hang up her coat. When she turned around to offer Shanna a good morning, her assistant was busily typing away—aka ignoring her. And that only happened when…
Dr. Annoying pranked her.
Sure, their pranks weren’t as frequent, but neither of them had wanted to give that up, especially not after they discovered the dirty-kinky fun of making up in one of their offices.
She rested against the open doorway, waiting for Shanna to crack.
On the receiving end of Stirling’s unflinching stare, Shanna crumbled like a dried bud. “I had nothing to do with it! It was there when I got here.”
Jesus.
Stirling entered her office with trepidation.
He’d arranged the items on her desk.
An empty family-sized bag of crunchy Cheetos.
A stick person created out of baked Cheetos, complete with dreadlocks and a dress crafted from tissue paper, that he’d attached to the upper corner of her computer screen.
A box of s’mores Pop-Tarts and a box of blue raspberry Pop-Tarts.
And a note.
A long, handwritten note, complete with bullet points.
Dear Miss Gradsky,
I am rescinding your “open invitation” to my lab—as well as disabling your keycard for the following reasons:
1. You ate the bag of crunchy Cheetos that I’d purposely hidden from you in my office because you can’t seem to stay out of the bags I bring home. And you put the empty bag back in said hiding place, filling the bag with crumpled paper towels covered in cheese dust, giving the false impression of a full bag. That type of prank is borderline cruel.
Stirling snickered. That’ll teach you not to become a Cheetos hoarder. She read on.
2. On your computer screen you’ll see I super glued a mini you I created out of the baked variety of Cheetos that you prefer as a reminder that you should eat THOSE because you can purchase them from the vending machine here and not the crunchy variety I prefer, which I cannot purchase from the vending machine and have to make a special trip to procure.
Procure. Snort. He cracked her up even when he was pissed at her.
She shook the Pop-Tarts boxes. Yep. Empty. That’s why he was pissy this morning. She might’ve had the last blue raspberry package last night after Liam had gone to sleep. So he’d woken up early, probably looking forward to a delicious toasted breakfast treat, only to be denied. Okay, that had been a dick move.
4. I have commandeered the toaster until you learn proper Pop-Tart etiquette and issue a heartfelt apology.
What? That was her damn toaster!
5. I have also purchased every package of baked Cheetos in the vending machine. You want them? Come and get them. Or…maybe they’ll be all gone since I did not get breakfast this morning.
He’d left an orange smear across the bottom of the page beneath the words:
Fondly,
Dr. Liam Argent, Ganja Research Guru
Aka…Dr. Dead Man Walking.
Stirling breezed past Shanna and her assistant yelled out, “I’ll hold your calls.”
The hallways were empty so she reached his office in near record time.
As he’d warned, her keycard didn’t work. She pressed the buzzer like she was laying on her horn.
But Liam didn’t come to the door. The chickenshit had sent his assistant Patrick.
“Oh, hey, Stirling. Umm…Dr. Argent isn’t in—”
“Yes, he is. He’s hiding in his office.”
“I don’t know—”
“I do. Maybe you should take an early break.” She brushed past him and turned the corner, hearing the door to the lab slam behind Patrick after he rushed out.
Liam leaned in the doorway to his office, looking like a million bucks in his lab coat, khaki pants, and boots. “Glad to see you’re finally responding to my summons in an acceptable time frame.”