On the floor of Cade's truck were three cans of Reddi Wip, two chocolate and one plain. There was also a pile of Taco Bell trash and an empty fifth of Jack. A lavender thong hung from the truck's shifter, his t-shirt was twisted around his left fore...
Inside Laurent's place, Cade came out of the shower, towel wrapped around him tucked in at the waist, and headed for the kitchen. The old man was perched on one of the bar stools, a mug in one hand and a slice of buttered white toast in the other.
"Your clothes stunk. They're in the washer." He gestured with the bread hand to some of his own clothes, folded and stacked, on a barstool. "Because you're not walking around my place like that."
"Dirty clothes what got me into the mess, it seems."
Laurent replied, "Maybe you ought to clean up your act."
"Ha. Ha." Cade held up the faded pink Parrothead t-shirt. "I am not wearing this."
"You want coffee? Cover up. I saw enough of you last night, asshole. More than I ever wanted to see. What the fuck were you doing anyway?"
"Hell if I know." Cade snaked his arms into the shirt and tugged on the grey drawstring shorts. "You saw me last night?" He gestured to where he'd been parked. "Over there?"
"Don't know where you were. I saw some of that stuff you sent."
Cade slid up onto the counter next to the coffee maker then reached over, grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup. "I'm afraid to ask, but I better. What'd I send?"
"I don't know why I let you talk me into using that Snapshit. I can't see anything on that tiny screen."
"You saw something."
"You. Your bare chest. Your bare legs. I think I saw your dick too." The man rubbed his grey beard. "That sort of shit's not right."
Cade swallowed a hefty gulp of coffee, took a deep breath and searched his memory. Nothing there except a golden colored Jack Daniels haze. "You sure it was me?"
Laurent, hand still on his beard, scowled and lifted one busy eyebrow. "I'm sure." He dropped his hand as he glanced at the gash on Cade's leg. "Glad its not as bad as it looked before."
Now that it was cleaned up, instead of oozing blood and covered by God knows what, the cut looked less gruesome. A temporary reminder of a night he didn't remember instead of a lingering scar for being an ass. "I found some antibiotic cream in your cabinet. Thanks."
"So you're alright?"
"Except for this headache, yeah."
"Good." The old man grabbed an apron off a wall hook and dropped the neck strap over his head. He tied the side straps with quick jerks. "I can go back to giving you shit."
"If you're so inclined."
"Better than worrying all night, like I was."
Cade grumbled. "You've seen me drunk and naked before."
"Wasn't you I was worried about so much as those other folks."
Some things were starting to fight through the Jack haze. The other people, for starters. "A blonde and a short guy?"
"Nah. I didn't see no girls, but three or four guys, all looking half-dead. Or mostly dead. Moaning and shit." He cleared his throat. "Not right. Not right at all. Damn nasty looking, if you want to know the truth."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
