His eyes searched my own, looking for an answer I didn’t know how to give. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, it wasn’t to me. “I noticed your gaming system over there. You any good?”
Jamie scoffed, arrogance coating the sound. “Yeah.”
Not fazed in the least by my child’s obvious dislike of him, Garrett nodded. “I have a few systems over on my side, but not that one. I haven’t seen one of those since I was young.”
I had to hand it to the man, he knew the right thing to say. Jamie’s eyes lit up, excitement and interest warring with his determination to stay angry. Jamie loved all things video game-related.
My dad owned a few systems, and they always played or watched walk-through videos when he visited. He wanted to ask about Garrett’s, the words were practically slamming against his lips, trying to get out.
Somehow Garrett managed not to laugh at the constipated-like expression on the kid’s face and took pity on him. He leaned against the bar, telling Jamie all about his gaming stash and what all he’d played.
I began putting the groceries away, listening to them chat and smiling as Jamie reluctantly thawed and probed our neighbor for details. Once finished, I headed over to see if the dogs were ready to come back inside when the front door flew open.
“Wench! I’m hungry, where’s my—oh. Well, hello there.” Layla’s eyes widened, and she rolled her lips into her mouth, kicking the door shut behind her. “Mads, there’s a man in the house.”
I exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. “Yes, this is Garrett. You’ve met him before.”
She raised a hand, stopping me. Dropping her bag by the door, she shucked off her shoes and pointed a finger at him.
“Hold up, isn’t he the one who called you a leech hidden in a pretty wrapper or some shit?” She cringed, her eyes cutting to Jamie. “I mean stuff.”
I gave her an exasperated look, and in my peripheral, I could see Garrett shifting as Jamie looked at him with narrowed eyes again.
Ignoring her question, I crossed my arms, letting my head fall back and addressing the ceiling. “Garrett, this is Layla.”
“Her wife. Sugar mama, if you will.”
Garrett widened his stance, accepting her challenge. “Do you often refer to your wife as a wench, Layla?”
She smirked, lowering her lashes over her eyes and fluttering them. “I have many pet names for her, but not all can be voiced in current company.”
“Pet names mean nothing if you don’t put a ring on her hand.” He looked over at me pointedly, and I struggled not to snort.
“Rings are materialistic and lack uniqueness. Pet names and affection are specific and personal,” she countered. “I’ve cleaned up her vomit, wiped away her tears, slept in the same bed, and held her hand while she pushed out that kid’s watermelon of a noggin.”
Garrett raised his hands in defeat, and a hint of a smile graced his lips. “Fair enough.”
“I don’t have a watermelon head.” Jamie stood to the side, glowering like he’d received the worst insult in the world. Considering he was in love with Layla, it probably was. I couldn’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair as I passed him on my way into the kitchen.
“If ya’ll are done with your pissing contest, I need to get started on dinner. Would you like to stay and eat, Garrett?” I looked at him over the bar, offering the friendliest smile I could.
He’d already been looking at me before I spoke, and if anything, his gaze seemed to spark with my question. Nate was my only experience with having a male friend, and I suddenly wondered if I’d crossed a line. Did he think I was hitting on him?
My face heated under his attention. “It’s nothing fancy, I’m making spaghetti and steaming up some veggies. But I tend to always make too much, so you’re more than welcome to stay.”