mischief. Pausing at the fireplace mantel, she studied the framed photos of him and Aiden, biker buddies, his grandmother and mother. He tilted the beer bottle to his lips and swallowed the frothy brew.
“So clean, huh? What would make you think I’m a slob?”
“I didn’t say a slob.” Her eyes hooded as she turned back towards the pictures, crossing her ankles. “I just—I don’t know. I expected different is all. I think it’s cool how you made some of your own furniture, too. I’m not too keen on this deer head though.” She pointed up at the vaulted ceiling several feet above the mantel. Right below it, mounted to the wall, was the unlucky, glassy-eyed carcass of one of his kills. He was a real beaut.
“It’s a buck. His name is Duke,” he chirped, then laughed at her obvious look of disgust. “You ever had venison, baby? It’s good.”
“I don’t believe so. If I have, I don’t know about it.”
“Well,” he put his almost empty bottle down on the kitchen island, “you should try it. I don’t know why you’re standing there with your nose all wrinkled up. Somebody has to go out there and kill the cows for your little hamburgers and steaks, the hens for your smothered chicken, and the pigs for your fried porkchops. They don’t just show up at the grocery store, ya know.”
She put her hand on her hip and a silly expression on her face.
“I know that, Daniel Boone. Doesn’t mean I have to like how it happens. I was a vegetarian for four years, just so ya know.”
He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Oh, Jesus. One of those! Yikes.”
“Yes, one of those. What’s wrong with being a vegetarian or vegan?”
“Nothin’, but sometimes you people can be pushy and try to make everyone think like you. You try to shame folks into eatin’ a bunch of crunchy grass and beans. I’m a carnivore, a meat-eater, and damn proud.” She sighed. “What happened to make you go back to filet mignon? Oh, let me guess… Flavor. FINALLY! Flavor was back!”
She looked at him with utter disdain, though he knew it was all an act. He blew her a kiss and winked, to which she shot up her middle finger, giggling.
“No, it just kinda happened gradually. As far as flavor, actually, it was some of the best food I’d had. I should make you some vegetarian dishes. I bet you’d enjoy them.”
“I might.” He shrugged. “I was half-teasing you.”
“I may try vegetarianism again.” She picked up the photo of him and his grandmother when he was a little boy and smiled down at it. “Wow. Your grandmother adored you, Aries. You can see it in her eyes.”
“She had the—”
“Hi, Lauren,” Aiden said breathlessly as he reached the bottom step, breaking the moment in two. “How are ya?”
“I’m good, Aiden.” She smiled big at the kid.
Aiden approached her and extended his hand for a shake, but she scooped him up and hugged him to her bosom, almost making his hat topple off his head. Aiden tossed him a confused look, his eyes large as dodgeballs and his cheek squished against hers. Aries swallowed the urge to laugh. When she finally released his child, she fixed his ball cap the way he’d originally had it and crossed her arms, looking at him as if he were a treasured gem.
“I see you have your duffle bag. Must be spending the night somewhere?”
“Yeah, I asked Dad.” Aiden shot him a look. So serious. “I’m going over my friend Mason’s house. He’s got the Assassin’s Creed game. Valhalla. Heard of it?”
“Aiden, I wish I was more in the know about these things that you’ve been talking to me about, video games in particular, but no, I haven’t heard of it.”
“Hmm, that’s too bad ’cause it’s a really good game. You know what?”
“What?”
“You should start sellin’ games at your store, too. Like have a special section for them.”
“Hmmm. That’s not a bad idea.” She tapped her chin and smiled.
“I see my son is a businessman tonight, giving out tips and everything. I hope you and your hands came up with some innovative ideas and had a board meeting in that messy ass room and bathroom of yours. As the CEO, I will be checking your work. Your room also smelled like a big bag of Fritos this mornin’. I thought you had a little hidden snack bar. Put your used socks in the hamper from now on, please. I’ve asked you a