“I’ll be right back,” Rebecca said, giving him a kiss on his cheek as she climbed off his lap and headed to god only knew where to fuck someone over.
“Okay,” he said absently, debating between bringing her to Boston or Manhattan for the weekend.
If he brought her to Boston he could take her for a walk through Boston Common, but then again, if he brought her to Manhattan he could hire a horse drawn carriage to bring them through-
There was a heavy sigh and then his phone was gone and he was sitting there, wondering where he’d gone wrong all those years ago when he’d shoved the bastard in the street for touching his crayons. He should have followed through with another shove, but the annoying bastard had managed to pick him up and carry him back to his mother before he’d had a chance to follow through with his plans to make the bastard pay for putting his red crayon next to the blue ones.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, blinking down at his empty hand and deciding that he’d give the bastard until the count of ten to return the phone or he was going to-
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jason said as he turned the phone off and tossed it on the table.
“You know what I’m doing,” he said, reaching for his phone, but Trevor beat him to it.
“You’re not there yet,” Trevor said quietly as he put the phone in his pocket.
Clenching his jaw together, he said, “Give me my fucking phone.”
“You’re not there yet,” Trevor repeated.
Lucifer glared at the bastard. “I’m there,” he swore as he held his hand out only to have the other bastard fuck him over.
“He’s right. You’re not,” Jason said, pissing him off even more.
“I’m ready,” he bit out, ready to kill both of them with his bare hands if they didn’t hand his damn phone over so that he could plan the perfect fucking proposal to make up for earlier. Then he was going to-
“Because you’re willing to kill us?” Trevor asked, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair. “That doesn’t make you ready to get married. That just makes you a Bradford.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Jason said, pausing to sit back and make room for one of the four waitresses reloading their table with plates of appetizers, “you’re close.”
“I’m already there,” he said, forced to sit back as several plates filled with chicken tenders, onion rings and mozzarella sticks were placed in front of him.
“Because you’re planning on kidnapping your girlfriend and whisk her away so that you can orchestrate the perfect proposal?” Jason, the know-it-all bastard guessed.
“And what’s the problem with that?” he asked, hating the bastards more with every passing second.
“Bradfords don’t propose,” Aidan said as he shoved a mozzarella stick in his mouth.
“We really don’t,” Jason agreed as he selected a chicken tender.
“We wait until we lose our fucking minds before we take the next step,” Trevor said as he gestured with his beer towards the stage where Lucifer’s mother was wrapping up a song and looking like she was ready for round two while his father stood there, white as a ghost and mumbling what he suspected was the song or a plea for mercy.
“To your right,” Trevor said, making him frown as he shifted his gaze to the right and found the woman that had turned his life upside down leaning against the bar, smiling at something that some asshole standing way too fucking close to her was saying.
“Who is that?” Aidan asked, which was exactly what he wanted know.
“Is that Rebecca?” his mother asked, apparently taking a break from her newfound love of karaoke to grab a drink.
“I thought you went home,” his father mumbled, sitting down so that he could bury his face in his hands and whisper, “God, I wish she’d let me go home.”
“Me too,” he said when Rebecca pushed away from the bar and headed for the stage.
Chapter 53
“Oh, it looks like the stage is free again!” Mrs. Bradford said excitedly as she jumped to her feet and before Ethan could do anything more than whimper, he was dragged back to the stage.
Smiling at the devious expression on Mrs. Bradford’s face, Rebecca walked over to Lucifer, who was watching her every move like a paranoid serial killer, which even she had to admit was a bit frightening, and sat back down on his lap, ignoring the empty chair next to him.
“What was that about?” he asked, shifting his glare to the man that she’d just been talking with.
Well, conspiring with might be a more fitting term since she’d just used her skills and charm to get a little help in ridding them of their unwanted audience while making sure to properly screw them over, which just showed how truly talented she was. Sighing, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and leaned against him.
Her talents were seriously going to waste, which was just another reminder that she needed a job, preferably one back at the Fire & Brimstone where she belonged. She missed being there so much and was seriously considering sucking up her pride and asking for her job back. Melanie had been right, she wasn’t going to be happy working anywhere else.
“The River Tavern would like to give a warm welcome to our next singing sensation. Please welcome Trevor, Jason and Aidan Bradford to the stage where they are going to perform Justin Bieber’s ‘Boyfriend,” Eric, the man that she’d been speaking with, said, smiling as he gestured to their table.
She glanced at the three men that she’d screwed over, mostly for the hell of it. Aidan looked genuinely shocked that she would do something so cruel to him while Jason and Trevor sat there, shaking their heads in pity.
“Is this really the best that you could do?” Jason asked, sharing a look with Trevor, who looked truly disappointed.
“I really hope this isn’t your ‘A’ game,” Trevor said, sighing heavily as he got to his feet.
“Are you boys picking up the gauntlet?” she asked with an overly sweet grin, mostly to annoy the man sitting across from them, who she was obligated to hate until further notice.
“No!” Aidan squeaked, shooting a nervous glance towards the exit while Jason said, “Absolutely.”
“Feeling up to the challenge, are we?” she asked, shifting her attention back to the two men still looking at her with something close to pity.