She lounged against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. “Are any of them married?”
“Yes.” I slung the hand towel back on the rack. “Me.”
“That’s it? Is Arnoldo going to be there?”
“Maybe. Likely.”
“What’s up with the short answers?”
“What’s up with the interrogation?” I asked the question, but I knew. My wife was a jealous, possessive woman. Lucky for both of us, I liked it. A lot.
She shrugged, but it was a defensive gesture. “I just want to know what you’re doing, that’s all.”
“I’ll stay home if you will.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
There was a smudge of dark makeup beneath her eyes. I loved mussing her up and giving her that just-fucked look. No woman wore it better. “Get to the point, then.”
She made a frustrated noise. “Why won’t you tell me what you guys have planned?”
“I don’t know, Eva. Usually we meet at one of our places and drink. Play cards. Sometimes we go out.”
“Trolling. A group of hot guys who’ve got a buzz and want a good time.”
“That’s not a crime. And who said they’re attractive?”
She shot me a look. “They’re trolling with you. That means they’re either hot enough not to completely pale in your shadow or too confident to worry about it.”
I held up my left hand. The bloodred rubies in my wedding band caught the light. I never took the ring off and never would. “Remember this?”
“I’m not worried about you,” she muttered, her arms dropping to her sides. “If I’m not f**king you enough, you need help.”
“Says the wife who couldn’t wait fifteen minutes.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“That’s what got you f**ked right there.”
“Arnoldo doesn’t trust me, Gideon. He doesn’t really want you with me.”
“It’s not his decision to make. And some of your friends aren’t going to like me, either. I know Cary’s on the fence.”
“What if Arnoldo tells the others how he feels about me?”
“Angel.” I went to her and caught her by the hips. “Talking about feelings is predominantly female territory.”
“Don’t be sexist.”
“You know I’m right. Besides, Arnoldo knows how it is. He’s been in love before.”
She looked up at me with those uniquely beautiful eyes. “Are you in love, Mr. Cross?”
“Irrevocably.”
—
MANUEL Alcoa slapped me on the back as he rounded me. “You just cost me a thousand dollars, Cross.”