“You want to be alone, Jack? I mean, is that your thing forever? We ain’t babies no more.”
No. He wasn’t going there. “Don’t start, Mackey.”
“It’s better to be stubborn?”
“Just because you’re all gooey in love.”
Mackey hooted. “You know it! Having daily fucking is fun, my friend.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “Listen to you. I can have it daily if I want it.” He could. He was still a stud, and he knew it. He was just… maybe he was bored with all of that.
“Oh man, I do know that. You’re a hot motherfucker. Watch that Porsche! He’s coming in your lane, like it or not!”
Oh, he didn’t think so. He had the right of way and a big-assed dualie.
“Fucking twat in a Porsche.” He eased on up in his lane, leaving no room for a little toy car.
“Isn’t that a rap song?”
Jack thought he might actually have heard it in the casino. “Either that or something from Cirque du So-lay-lay.”
Mackey laughed so hard he snorted. “That’s my hotel room! Cirque du get laid!”
The Porsche honked, and he ignored it and drove on, skimming past the guy’s front bumper. “Bye bye, toy car.” The road opened up suddenly, and he made his turn onto a street that was much more manageable and led right to the hotel parking garage.
“So, we lived.” Mackey was a little wide-eyed. “Let’s get that steak. I’m starving.”
“Me too.” Although he had been hoping that Hudson was interested in room service.
He still didn’t understand why Hudson hadn’t mentioned he was coming to Vegas. He almost wished last weekend hadn’t been so goddamn good because now he was confused. He didn’t like being confused.
But Mackey had been his late-night dinner buddy for years, and they could laugh it up when they got going, so he could handle this.
10
“Well, that’s a wrap.”
Paul started breaking down, putting his samples back in a big black case. Hudson grabbed the flyers and the business cards and started packing them away.
“That rocked.”
“It was quite successful. Better than I’d expected.”
He hadn’t known what to expect, because he’d never done one of these before. But he and Paul had been a great team. He’d talked to the cowboys, and Paul dealt with investors and they’d ended up with a good list of both to try out the next group of gloves.
It would have been perfect—professional, classy, fun—except that Jack and the entire safety team had come to visit them.
All of them.
For an hour.
He had zero idea how much trouble those five men could get into in an hour.
They’d tried on the gloves. Mackey and Tommy had ridden the twins around like bulls. Jack had excused himself to the restroom and fucking texted him a dick pic.
Had Jack ever sent him a dick pic before?
To Paul’s credit, after his initial disbelief, he tried to play along. And the guys did draw a crowd, most of who stuck around and had a look at the gloves themselves, so it wasn’t a total embarrassment.