It was hard to keep from grinning at her clear disdain for Leo. Rurik had met him more than once back in the day. He didn’t really have an opinion of him one way or the other, though he was slightly long-winded.
“You two lovebirds coming or do me and Gus need to go get our own milkshakes?” asked Bill.
Rurik groaned. “I thought you were moving the SUV.”
“Nah, got one of my groupies to do it,” said Bill with a shrug. “I’m kind of like famous now and shit. Not really a shock or anything. People fucking love me. So, are you coming or what? I’m starving.”
I fucking wish I was coming.
Rurik’s gaze instantly went to Liberty’s chest as he thought of what it would be like to bury his face in her cleavage while driving into her and finding release. The thought left him biting back a pained groan of frustration.
He almost wished his body would return to whatever state it had been in prior to meeting her—the one that left him forgetting when he’d last had sex and not really having a ton of interest in the act.
Bill chuckled. “Careful, Red Army, you’re about to come all right, but it ain’t with me to the SUV.”
Liberty let out a nervous laugh. “You guys are funny. Weird. But amusing.”
“Liberty Bell, no one in the history of ever has thought Rurik was funny,” stressed Bill.
The edges of her sexy mouth tilted upward. “I don’t know about that. There is a certain something about him.”
“Does that certain something make you want to do him?” asked Bill.
“Yes,” returned Liberty, before her eyes widened. “No. I mean no. I’m going home now. I just remembered that I gave up milkshakes for some really great reason I can’t think of now.”
“Then get something different,” suggested Bill. “Like a pancake and bacon smoothie. Bet that is delicious!”
She cringed and shook her head, refusing to look Rurik in the eye. “Uh, no. Gave up pancakes too.”
Bill gasped in horror. “Say it ain’t so, Liberty Bell.”
“It’s so,” she said, trying to dart away and to the door.
Rurik touched her arm lightly, halting her exit. “Liberty?”
Cringing, she glanced quickly at him. “Yes?”
He leaned toward her, taking in her scent as he did. It helped to wash away the other smells. “I’m not opposed to anything.”
“Anything?” she echoed, her eyes growing wide.
He winked. “Anything.”
“Can someone tell me if milkshakes and lunch are still on the table?” Bill demanded. “I’m famished here, folks, and my blood sugar is getting low. When it goes down too much, I’ve been known to pull out grenade launchers. Anyone want to chance it? Didn’t think so. Feed me.”
With the slowest of movements, he lowered his head, his hand still on Liberty’s arm. He nearly kissed her again but managed to refrain. “Food.”
She lifted a brow.
“You’re going to eat it,” he said, wanting the words back at once.
Bill covered his eyes with his hand and then peeked out between his fingers at Rurik. “Commie, you may be the worst one yet.”
“Worst one what?” asked Liberty, her attention on Bill as she moved forward, putting her closer to Rurik.
He found himself drawing her to him even more, wanting her near him.
Bill grinned. “He’ll figure it out soon enough. Maybe. Russians ain’t too bright. We need to go on out now. Gus has had enough of people being by him. He’s threatening to drive away without us. He’s a shit driver. Drives with his eyes closed. Best we get a move on.”
Chapter Sixteen
“They got you a blender?” Liberty asked as she sat next to Rurik in a brown vinyl booth at the diner where Bill had insisted on eating. The eatery had been on Liberty’s list to try but between school and work, she’d not found the time, despite having lived in the area for six years.
She had to admit, the diner had a certain charm to it. There was an orange wall behind the main counter that had numerous chalkboards mounted to it. Someone had taken a lot of time to draw on the chalkboards, showcasing the daily specials. They were a great artist, whoever they were. Based on their sketches alone, she’d selected a cup of soup and a half a sandwich.
The staff was friendly enough, managing to keep their cool when dealing with the likes of Bill and Gus. Both seemed to go out of their way to be as difficult as possible. Gus had refused to sit at any of the first three tables the waitress had shown them to. Finally, the woman had given up and told Gus to sit where he wanted. He’d picked the booth they were currently at. An interesting game of musical booth seats had followed, resulting in Gus sitting next to Bill while Liberty sat next to Rurik.
Bill had tried to charm the waitress, telling her that she had great yams before blurting out his order. After several attempts to convince the waitress that the diner really should offer peanut butter and grilled cheese milkshakes, he finally selected something listed on the chalkboards.
Since then, Bill had been trying to facilitate conversation for the past forty minutes, but Rurik wasn’t exactly overflowing with words and clearly wasn’t big on sharing. After much in the way of teeth pulling, he’d finally opened up somewhat, divulging that his friends had once gifted him a blender for winning an award for something he’d done at work.
Rurik inclined his head with the smallest of nods. “They did.”
There was a certain cadence to his voice when he talked about his coworkers. One that said he was close to them. Something in his eyes said he’d been through a lot in his life, and she had to wonder if the men he worked with had been along for the ride.
“What is it you do for a living? Your father mentioned that you were in law enforcement,”
