The 'Burg: Hold On Part 89

He looked back to the water.

I like water.

"I gotta get back to work," he murmured, then turned again to his agent, leveling his eyes on hers. "Make the offer. I don't care you gotta make magic, Diane. Get me this house."

"Okay, Garrett," she replied.

He nodded.

He then took another look inside the opened door at the big great room, its fantastic kitchen, its phenomenal hearth, all the warm and welcoming s.p.a.ce.

He turned the other way and took a last look at the water, which could be seen from the kitchen. The living room. The study. The room that could be Ethan's. The master suite, which was all the way on the other side of the house from the study and other two bedrooms.

And with one last glance at his agent, he went to his truck and got back to work.

Sat.u.r.day Morning Garrett was on his way out the door to head to Cher's to help her with Ethan's party when his phone rang.

After glancing at the screen, he took the call.

"Hey," he greeted.

"I made magic," Diane said.

Garrett smiled.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

On Top Cher "I'm sorry, we don't have more tiki torches."

"How can you not have more tiki torches? This is a party place. We're having a luau. A luau is a party. Which is why I'm shoppin' at a party place. And you can't have a luau without tiki torches."

"Sir, it's October in Indiana."

"So?"

"We sell down stock of tiki torches after summer in order to make room for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas items."

"You should be ready for every occasion."

"We pride ourselves in being that. That's why you currently have twelve tiki torches here. But I'm afraid we don't have more right now. And just a suggestion, next time, should you want something in high quant.i.ties, if you give us a call beforehand, we'll be happy to order it for you."

"Twelve isn't a high quant.i.ty. It's a perfectly reasonable quant.i.ty unless you need twenty, and I need twenty."

"Again, I apologize. We just don't have twenty."

"I barely have enough leis and gra.s.s skirts. And, just to say, neither are very high quality."

"I'm sorry you think that as well, sir. But-"

"Yo!" Merry barked.

I jumped at the sound, pulled from my focus on my extreme annoyance at being an audience to this sheer ridiculousness when Merry and me had a ton of Star Wars and other party s.h.i.t in four collective baskets, a cake to pick up, decorating to do, and later, merrymaking to achieve for my son.

Plus, my mother was at my house with my kid, helping me get ready by doing what she called "light cleaning." This meant she was going to move s.h.i.t around to where she thought it should be, which was what she always did when she jumped at the chance to do some "light cleaning" before some event I had at my house. This also meant it'd take weeks to find the s.h.i.t she moved, something which was nearly more annoying than the selfish, thoughtless, in-a-hurry human population you encountered when you were out running errands (but just nearly).

Needless to say, I didn't have time for an a.s.shole on a tiki torch mission in Indiana for a luau he was giving in f.u.c.king October.

I looked up at Merry to see he agreed.

He'd also shoved his jacket back on both sides and had his hands on his hips.

There was no badge on his belt, seeing as he was off-duty.

Thus, I wondered how this would go.

That said, Merry was tall and lean and bada.s.s. The guy with the torches was not tall and was kinda doughy, so I had high hopes it would go well...and, hopefully, fast.

"You wanna move this along?" Merry suggested, though it didn't come close to sounding like a suggestion.

"It's my turn at the register," the man in front of us sniped. "You'll get your turn."

"I'll get it a lot faster, you give it up about tiki torches you aren't gonna get, seein' as this guy can't conjure them from thin air," Merry returned, shifting his torso to the side only slightly to indicate the line that had formed behind us, which had at least three other customers waiting to check out. "You do that, you can get on your way so the rest of us can get on our way."

This was a faulty strategy.

He'd called out to the man's civility.

Since the man had none, that was totally not going to work.

"I hardly need your att.i.tude on a day where I'm looking forward to hosting a luau," the man retorted.

There it was. I was right.

He didn't give a s.h.i.t that he was affecting all our days with his att.i.tude about f.u.c.king tiki torches.

"Ditto, turkey," the woman behind us snapped.

Surprised, I looked back at her to see a blue-haired, sharp-eyed lady with a basket filled with Frozen-themed party plates, cups, like-colored streamers and balloons, and a second basket filled almost to overflowing with bags of fake snow.

"My granddaughter got one year older today and I obviously am not getting any younger, especially waiting in this line," she declared irately. "I'm not really looking forward to watching Princess Anna's demonstration of sisterly love for the seven millionth time. But I'd rather do that than expire, waiting at the cash register of a party store, watching a grown man pitch a fit over tiki torches."

"Yeah," agreed the lumbers.e.xual guy at the back of the line who had s.h.a.ggy hair, a long, scruffy beard, was wearing a plaid shirt, and holding an enormous bouquet of pink and silver balloons with some Mylar ones mixed in that said, Sweet Sixteen. "Buy your tiki torches and go."

The guy in front of us got red in the face, shoved the torches and baskets filled with leis and gra.s.s skirts toward the clerk, and snapped, "I'll get them elsewhere."

"Good luck with that," Merry muttered.

The guy shot him a filthy look before he stormed out.

"Next," the clerk said, dumping the unwanted luau items behind him to clear the register area, doing this with practiced nonchalance, gazing expectantly at Merry and me like all that hadn't happened.

Then again, he probably had twelve situations like that every day.

This made me glad I was a bartender. People tended to kiss bartender a.s.s to get what they wanted. You didn't, your a.s.s got ignored and your gla.s.s stayed empty.

On these pleasant thoughts, we got our Star Wars stuff. We took it out to Merry's car. Then Merry headed us toward Marsh to pick up the R2-D2-shaped chocolate cake.

"Just to say, you totally get a b.l.o.w.j.o.b for even going to a party store with me," I declared as Merry pulled out of the parking lot. "You get another one for gettin' in that dude's face. But you didn't flash your badge and scare the bejeezus out of him, so the month of 'any time, anywhere head' is yet to be earned."

"Baby, can't flash my badge at a party store to get some guy to stop bein' an a.s.shole."

I looked to him. "You did it with the BMW b.i.t.c.h."

He glanced at me before he looked back at the road. "That was good timing. My badge was already on my belt. Today, I'm off duty."

I turned to face front again. "I need to take you grocery shopping with me when you're on duty."

"They kinda frown on that too, sweetheart, the me-on-duty part being operative, seein' as they actually want me to work when I'm on duty, not go grocery shopping."

"Whatever," I muttered, but I did it grinning because he was funny when he was being rational.

"Gotta say, it's good to know I got two b.l.o.w.j.o.bs in store, so I probably shouldn't point this out and give you ideas, but you don't seem to hesitate goin' down on me, even if I haven't done something to earn your mouth."

"Good point," I kept muttering (and grinning).

"Though, the promise, brown eyes? Sweet." Now Merry was muttering.

"Glad you think so."

He drove.

I sat in his truck, grinning.

"Cher?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an overachiever too."

I felt my chest depress.

I turned my eyes to him.

He was also grinning.

"f.u.c.k," I groused.

"What?" he asked.

"Making you happy makes me even happier."

"You say that like it's bad."

"It is."

He glanced again at me then back at the road, his brows drawn, his face dark. "How is that bad?"

"Because it means you're always one-upping me on the happy. I can't make you happy without you making me happier because I'm making you happy. It's a vicious cycle where you're always on top. And that's bad."

"I know some times when you're on top that make me a f.u.c.kuva lot happier than you are."

His words and the memories they invoked gave me a nice shiver.

And experiencing that, I shared, "I'm not sure that's true."

"Trust me, baby. When you ride me, I watch you come, but I feel what you give to me."

"I feel what you give to me too."

"You come harder on your back. That's when I'm givin' it to you. When you're on top, you're givin' it to me."

This was definitely true.

"So there are times when you're on top with the happy in more ways than one," he finished.

I faced forward again, mumbling, "That makes me feel better."

Merry reached out and nabbed my hand, holding it.

And more happy.

"Glad I could be of service," he murmured.

"Stop being perfect," I ordered.

He chuckled.

"And awesome," I went on.