“Bean” sculpture, then wandered past funky little restaurants and pubs, a wine shop, a shoe boutique, and a used bookstore. She passed a small Italian market and noted its location to return to on her way home.
She went into the Museum of Contemporary Photography, partly because she needed to warm up and partly because of her interest in photography. She’d always liked taking pictures and had done a couple of college courses in photography as part of her Visual Arts diploma.
She returned home several hours later carrying a few plastic bags of food. She let herself into the condo, not sure what to expect, but a bunch of big guys on stools at the kitchen island wasn’t it.
She swept them with her gaze. Jared, Brent, Hughie, and Olaf. Not Marc and not Duncan. She dropped her bags, hung up her jacket, and removed her boots, then lifted the groceries and carried them into the kitchen. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”
“Not much.” Brent jumped up to help her with the bags. So sweet. “Waiting for Duper and Army to get home.”
“Oh. Where are they?”
“They went for a run. Then we’re going to eat. Burgers. Wanna come?”
She pursed her lips as she pulled food out of the bags. Greek yogurt. Cottage cheese. Bags of spinach. Fruit. “I don’t know. Sounds like fun, but Duncan probably doesn’t want me to tag along.”
“Huh. You’re probably right. He already told us you’re off-limits.”
She lifted her eyebrows, pausing. “He did?”
“Hell yeah. It’s the rule.”
“The rule?”
They explained it to her.
“We told him we’re all nice guys and he should be happy if you went out with one of us.” Hughie grinned. “He wasn’t buying it.”
“He’s a little overprotective,” Lovey said dryly. “You know what? I’d love to come for burgers.”
“Attagirl.” Jared nodded with a grin. “Want a beer?” He nodded at the empties on the counter.
“Yeah. I do.” She smiled at him. Damn, he was gorgeous, and always dressed so well and perfectly groomed. And yet, she wasn’t even a little interested in him. She sighed.
Jared opened the fridge and pulled a beer out, then opened it for her.
“Thanks.” She lifted it in a small toast. “You guys just come in here and make yourselves at home?”
“Yup. And drink Army’s beer. Cheers.”
Lovey reached for one more shopping bag. She wasn’t sure why she’d bought two big bags of tortilla chips and two jars of salsa, but this seemed the perfect time to break them open.
“Oh man, chips,” Jared said with appreciation. “You rock, Lovey.”
She grinned as she found a couple of bowls and filled them, then climbed onto a stool. “Did you stay late last night at Eddy’s?”
The guys all dove into the chips like they hadn’t eaten in a year. “Depends what you consider late. I left around two,” Jared said.
“That’s late.”
“So Lovey, what do you do for a living?” Brent asked.
“I’m in marketing and visual arts. In Madison, I was working for Kleinheinz Cheese.”
Silence. Then Hughie said, “Cheese?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Come on, guys, it’s Wisconsin.”
They all nodded.
“I was working with ad agencies, coming up with slogans like ‘Sometimes you feel like a cheese, sometimes you don’t.’ ”
They guffawed.
“And ‘please don’t squeeze the cheese.’ ”
“ ‘Good to the last cheese’?” Hughie said.
Lovey laughed with delight. “Yes! You got it.”
“I know a good joke about cheese,” Brent said. He paused. “Well, actually it’s about mice.” Lovey smiled. “Three mice are in a bar talking about which one of them’s the toughest. One mouse says, ‘I’m so tough I go up to the mousetrap and rip the cheese out.’ The other says, ‘I’m so tough I snort rat poison.’ The third mouse finishes his beer and gets up to leave. ‘Where you going?’ asks the first mouse. The third one says, ‘I’m going home to fuck the cat.’ ”
The guys all roared with laughter
She went into the Museum of Contemporary Photography, partly because she needed to warm up and partly because of her interest in photography. She’d always liked taking pictures and had done a couple of college courses in photography as part of her Visual Arts diploma.
She returned home several hours later carrying a few plastic bags of food. She let herself into the condo, not sure what to expect, but a bunch of big guys on stools at the kitchen island wasn’t it.
She swept them with her gaze. Jared, Brent, Hughie, and Olaf. Not Marc and not Duncan. She dropped her bags, hung up her jacket, and removed her boots, then lifted the groceries and carried them into the kitchen. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”
“Not much.” Brent jumped up to help her with the bags. So sweet. “Waiting for Duper and Army to get home.”
“Oh. Where are they?”
“They went for a run. Then we’re going to eat. Burgers. Wanna come?”
She pursed her lips as she pulled food out of the bags. Greek yogurt. Cottage cheese. Bags of spinach. Fruit. “I don’t know. Sounds like fun, but Duncan probably doesn’t want me to tag along.”
“Huh. You’re probably right. He already told us you’re off-limits.”
She lifted her eyebrows, pausing. “He did?”
“Hell yeah. It’s the rule.”
“The rule?”
They explained it to her.
“We told him we’re all nice guys and he should be happy if you went out with one of us.” Hughie grinned. “He wasn’t buying it.”
“He’s a little overprotective,” Lovey said dryly. “You know what? I’d love to come for burgers.”
“Attagirl.” Jared nodded with a grin. “Want a beer?” He nodded at the empties on the counter.
“Yeah. I do.” She smiled at him. Damn, he was gorgeous, and always dressed so well and perfectly groomed. And yet, she wasn’t even a little interested in him. She sighed.
Jared opened the fridge and pulled a beer out, then opened it for her.
“Thanks.” She lifted it in a small toast. “You guys just come in here and make yourselves at home?”
“Yup. And drink Army’s beer. Cheers.”
Lovey reached for one more shopping bag. She wasn’t sure why she’d bought two big bags of tortilla chips and two jars of salsa, but this seemed the perfect time to break them open.
“Oh man, chips,” Jared said with appreciation. “You rock, Lovey.”
She grinned as she found a couple of bowls and filled them, then climbed onto a stool. “Did you stay late last night at Eddy’s?”
The guys all dove into the chips like they hadn’t eaten in a year. “Depends what you consider late. I left around two,” Jared said.
“That’s late.”
“So Lovey, what do you do for a living?” Brent asked.
“I’m in marketing and visual arts. In Madison, I was working for Kleinheinz Cheese.”
Silence. Then Hughie said, “Cheese?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Come on, guys, it’s Wisconsin.”
They all nodded.
“I was working with ad agencies, coming up with slogans like ‘Sometimes you feel like a cheese, sometimes you don’t.’ ”
They guffawed.
“And ‘please don’t squeeze the cheese.’ ”
“ ‘Good to the last cheese’?” Hughie said.
Lovey laughed with delight. “Yes! You got it.”
“I know a good joke about cheese,” Brent said. He paused. “Well, actually it’s about mice.” Lovey smiled. “Three mice are in a bar talking about which one of them’s the toughest. One mouse says, ‘I’m so tough I go up to the mousetrap and rip the cheese out.’ The other says, ‘I’m so tough I snort rat poison.’ The third mouse finishes his beer and gets up to leave. ‘Where you going?’ asks the first mouse. The third one says, ‘I’m going home to fuck the cat.’ ”
The guys all roared with laughter
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