Free No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) by Kelli Jean Page B

to sit on the floor between his knees.
    Leaning over me, he whispered, “What’s the problem?”
    “I work here, babe. These are my coworkers, and that behavior is inappropriate in front of them, okay?”
    Dropping a kiss on top of my head, he replied, “All right.”
    Sheri handed everyone a sandwich and a cup of iced tea before sitting between Jason’s knees, on the floor next to me.
    “Oh, Lucy!” I said before biting into my sandwich. “Before we leave today, I need to be taken off the schedule for—when are we leaving?” I turned to Phil.
    “We leave Thursday the twenty-eighth, in the mornin’. We’ll be back Sunday night.”
    Turning back to Lucy, I told her, “I’ll be back to work on the first of November.”
    She set her sandwich down on the coffee table.
    “Not now , Luce!” I barked at her, thinking that maybe Phil was rubbing off on me more than I cared to admit. “After you finish your lunch.”
    She grabbed the sandwich and started eating at top speed.
    “After you enjoy your lunch,” I emphasized.
    “Yes, Dr. MacGregor,” she replied, slowing down her intake.
    “Dude, you’re datin’ a doctor .” Jason snorted, his broken nose giving off a slight whistle.
    Phil chuckled. “I know. It’s fuckin’ badass.”
    “So, what do you guys do?” asked Frank.
    Phil reached for his second sandwich as Jason looked at Frank in surprise.
    “Jason”—Phil threw his thumb in the guitarist’s direction—“is a stripper—when his face is in fine form, that is. Mostly bachelorette gigs ’n’ shit, but he’s not too proud for the gay parties.”
    Jason laughed loudly. I noticed he was picking off small pieces of his sandwich and carefully chewing tiny bites of fried seafood goodness on the side of his mouth where his teeth weren’t wired into his head.
    “Really?” asked Frank.
    Gavin’s eyes met mine, and then he quickly looked away to keep himself from bursting into laughter.
    “No,” replied Phil, grinning.
    “Quit teasing him,” snipped Sheri. “They’re musicians, Frank. Jason is the guitarist, and Phil is the lead singer for NOLA’s Junk.”
    “Thanks, baby,” said Jason, patting her shoulder. Glancing at Frank, he told him, “She’s a feisty one, and she doesn’t let anyone make fun of the band—not even the band .”
    “Isn’t that the ‘Louisiana Baby’ band?” Frank asked, looking impressed.
    “Yep,” replied Phil. He shoved the second half of sandwich three into his gob and reached for sandwich number four.
    “Wow. I hear you guys on the radio all the time. It’s an awesome song.”
    “Thanks,” said Jason.
    Gavin was watching Phil with morbid fascination as he methodically demolished his fourth sandwich. Leaning down so that his face was level with mine, he whispered, “Where does it go?”
    “I honestly don’t know.”
    Sheri giggled, and Phil poked the back of her head with his finger.
    “You guys know it’s number one on the charts? Like, all the charts, not just the rock ones,” Frank said, looking more awestruck than impressed now.
    “Really? That’s pretty fuckin’ cool,” stated Phil, reaching for sandwich number five.
    Of course, he knew it was number one on the charts. They all did.
    “So, what now? Are you guys are done?” asked Frank.
    Jason chuckled and whistled. It was really fucking hilarious. Even Sheri bit her lip and scrunched up her eyes in an effort not to laugh at him.
    “Naw, man. We go back into the studio after the New Year. But we’ve been working nonstop for the last six years. We just got back from two world tours, in between a couple of European circuits while recordin’ three albums. We’re kinda holing ourselves up for a little while,” said Jason.
    “No shit,” breathed Frank. “How does it feel, being back?”
    “It’s been a long time comin’,” Phil replied.
    I felt as though he were talking to me.
    “It’s great, bein’ home. I never wanna leave. But we got the Twisted Festivus next summer.