legitimate one uses cock when speaking about what swings between the knees. I think Jesse said little willy or wee one or something like that.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re way too fixated on what you wish swung between your knees?” I lifted a brow at him.
He lifted two at me. “Here’s a secret, Rowen. All men, every single one, are fixated on their johnsons. Anyone who tells you they aren’t are full of bull—” Garth stopped himself, bit the inside of his cheek, and seemed to be working out something. “Full of it. Yeah, they’re full of it.”
“Thank you, edited version of Garth Black.” I shot him a curious look. “If there’s nothing else you’d like to add to this scintillating conversation, mind if we head out?” I started for the passenger door when Garth dramatically cleared his throat.
“Actually, there is something I’d like to add.”
Of course there was. “What?”
“Wanna repeat that night of booze, lawn chairs, and moaning over an almost kiss?” His smile was so wide, his teeth lit up the night.
“Wanna keep your testicles?” I smiled a just as fake and overdone smile as the one coming at me.
“Only on days that end in y. ” Garth chuckled and tossed my bag into the bed of his truck. It didn’t make the thumping sound I was used to hearing when my bag was tossed into the bed of a truck. No, it made something more muffled, almost noiseless. I peeked in the back as I stepped up inside of the cab. Well, that would explain it.
“Dost my eyes deceive me or is that a mattress in the bed of your truck?”
“Your eyes dost not deceive you.” Garth slid into the driver’s seat.
“Why?” I asked needlessly, twisting around and fastening my belt.
Garth grinned into the windshield. “What do you think a guy like me would be doing with a mattress in the bed of my truck?”
My nose curled. “Filthy things, me thinks.”
“The filthier the better.” Garth waggled his eyebrows at me before peeling out of the parking lot. I might have missed Montana every minute I was away from it, but I did not miss the drivers.
A rare few minutes of silence passed. The dark roads and the truck’s gentle vibrations were lulling me to sleep. Since I’d closed the night before at the doughnut shop, I hadn’t gotten home until almost two in the morning. My bus left at seven, so that left three, maybe four hours of sleep time . . . which I had gotten maybe fifteen minutes of thanks to the crazy lady crawling out of the dumpster and saying bat-shit crazy things that kept me up all night.
“So? How are the nuptials coming along? Picked out your colors yet?”
I cranked the window down halfway. It was getting a little Garth heavy inside the cab. “So? How’s your right hand? Fed up with you yet?”
“I’m left-handed.”
I rolled my eyes. “How’s your left hand?”
“Truthfully?” He lifted said hand and turned it over, inspecting it. “A little neglected.”
“What poor girl are you seeing this month who’s going to get a restraining order next month?”
Garth swung around a corner at such a hell-raising speed, I checked to make sure we hadn’t lost my duffel. “You change that girl to the plural form, and I’ll give you a list of names. The ones I remember.”
“Wow. Someone’s really taken their exaggeration tendencies to a whole new level.”
Garth tilted his head back and laughed a few hard notes. “I don’t know what we do without you, Rowen. My confidence was almost back to its prior glory before you stepped off that bus and started firing insult after insult my way.”
“Someone has to keep that Zeus complex of yours from getting out of control.”
“ Getting out of control?” Garth’s tone gave me the verbal equivalent of a nudge.
“Getting more out of control,” I clarified.
“Speaking of getting out of control, that reminds me . . .” I was already cringing. I’d learned that when “that reminds me” came out of Garth Black’s mouth
“Anyone ever tell you you’re way too fixated on what you wish swung between your knees?” I lifted a brow at him.
He lifted two at me. “Here’s a secret, Rowen. All men, every single one, are fixated on their johnsons. Anyone who tells you they aren’t are full of bull—” Garth stopped himself, bit the inside of his cheek, and seemed to be working out something. “Full of it. Yeah, they’re full of it.”
“Thank you, edited version of Garth Black.” I shot him a curious look. “If there’s nothing else you’d like to add to this scintillating conversation, mind if we head out?” I started for the passenger door when Garth dramatically cleared his throat.
“Actually, there is something I’d like to add.”
Of course there was. “What?”
“Wanna repeat that night of booze, lawn chairs, and moaning over an almost kiss?” His smile was so wide, his teeth lit up the night.
“Wanna keep your testicles?” I smiled a just as fake and overdone smile as the one coming at me.
“Only on days that end in y. ” Garth chuckled and tossed my bag into the bed of his truck. It didn’t make the thumping sound I was used to hearing when my bag was tossed into the bed of a truck. No, it made something more muffled, almost noiseless. I peeked in the back as I stepped up inside of the cab. Well, that would explain it.
“Dost my eyes deceive me or is that a mattress in the bed of your truck?”
“Your eyes dost not deceive you.” Garth slid into the driver’s seat.
“Why?” I asked needlessly, twisting around and fastening my belt.
Garth grinned into the windshield. “What do you think a guy like me would be doing with a mattress in the bed of my truck?”
My nose curled. “Filthy things, me thinks.”
“The filthier the better.” Garth waggled his eyebrows at me before peeling out of the parking lot. I might have missed Montana every minute I was away from it, but I did not miss the drivers.
A rare few minutes of silence passed. The dark roads and the truck’s gentle vibrations were lulling me to sleep. Since I’d closed the night before at the doughnut shop, I hadn’t gotten home until almost two in the morning. My bus left at seven, so that left three, maybe four hours of sleep time . . . which I had gotten maybe fifteen minutes of thanks to the crazy lady crawling out of the dumpster and saying bat-shit crazy things that kept me up all night.
“So? How are the nuptials coming along? Picked out your colors yet?”
I cranked the window down halfway. It was getting a little Garth heavy inside the cab. “So? How’s your right hand? Fed up with you yet?”
“I’m left-handed.”
I rolled my eyes. “How’s your left hand?”
“Truthfully?” He lifted said hand and turned it over, inspecting it. “A little neglected.”
“What poor girl are you seeing this month who’s going to get a restraining order next month?”
Garth swung around a corner at such a hell-raising speed, I checked to make sure we hadn’t lost my duffel. “You change that girl to the plural form, and I’ll give you a list of names. The ones I remember.”
“Wow. Someone’s really taken their exaggeration tendencies to a whole new level.”
Garth tilted his head back and laughed a few hard notes. “I don’t know what we do without you, Rowen. My confidence was almost back to its prior glory before you stepped off that bus and started firing insult after insult my way.”
“Someone has to keep that Zeus complex of yours from getting out of control.”
“ Getting out of control?” Garth’s tone gave me the verbal equivalent of a nudge.
“Getting more out of control,” I clarified.
“Speaking of getting out of control, that reminds me . . .” I was already cringing. I’d learned that when “that reminds me” came out of Garth Black’s mouth
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