Margo was wearing her comfy yoga pants that made her butt look like it needed its own zip code and a loose tank top with her slipper socks. Yep, she was certainly styling for the pizza man, she giggled as she turned away from the mirror. At least the calamine lotion that was all over her face and body in little patches wouldn’t get rubbed off and that was what mattered. She’d already started to blister even though she’d put on the steroid cream. She headed into her room, stopping to glance at the tracker for her pizza seeing that it had just been pulled from the oven. Yay, ooey--gooey goodness was soon to be on its way.

Her mouth watered as she rubbed her hands together walking into the living room to get a twenty and some ones. Margo liked a hot pie more than she did chocolate or flowers. She’d had quite a few fantasies about a certain underwear model showing up at her door with a hot pizza and a smile. After meeting Gunner however, she’d likely be inserting his image instead of Calvin Klein’s top model. Margo frowned because that was a depressing thought, mostly because she wasn’t likely to see him again after today.

Shrugging, she headed into the kitchen to put a few Cokes in the freezer so they were ice cold when the pizza arrived, her mind already on her painting. She noticed the few dishes in the sink and decided to do them while she waited. She was pacing about ten minutes later when the doorbell rang in her apartment. Assuming it was her dinner, she grabbed the money off the end of the counter and headed to the door. She opened it without checking, so hungry she would swear that her stomach was eating her spine.

“It’s about time you got—eek!” Margo was talking as she opened the door, but it wasn’t the pizza guy who was standing at her door. She stared for a moment, her mind shutting down then she realized that she was letting Gunner see her looking like an escapee from a mental intuition. She slammed the door leaning back against it. What the hell was he doing here? She turned and peeked through the peephole, hoping that she’d imagined him standing there, but nope. He wasn’t a hallucination.

Damn.

Margo felt the door vibrate when Gunner knocked, a little chuckle escaping him. Just kill her now because her humiliation was finally complete.

 

 

Gunner rang the bell to Margo’s apartment four hours after they’d brought the guns to the clubhouse. He would have been here sooner, but after he’d talked with Buck and Chaos about the job for thirty minutes, he’d decided he might as well shower and have his hand looked at. He glanced down at his lightly bandaged left hand with a little frown. He really hoped he wasn’t going to have to make some asshole eat his fist tonight after the club doctor had told him to be easy with it because he might have a hairline fracture.

He was scheduled tomorrow for an x-ray. Not that it mattered, if he needed to put some fucker in his place he would. He had to stop himself from hitting the doorbell a second time when Margo didn’t answer right away. He was just about to do it anyway when the door swung open. The object of his obsession was standing in front of him in a baggy tank-top and some tight as hell yoga pants—that made his dick instantly stiffen—wearing calamine lotion all over her face. She let out an eek when she saw him and slammed the door. Gunner couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he knocked on the door hard. He knew why she didn’t want to go out with him now. She’d gotten some poison oak or maybe ivy from her adventures in the bushes the other day.

“I’m not leaving, Margo. You might as well let me in, babe.” Gunner muttered with another light chuckle escaping him. He grinned when a muffled ‘no’ came from the other side in a miserable tone.

“Excuse me, sir,” a male voice said from behind him, making Gunner turn to see a man wearing a pizza delivery uniform looking at him, holding a large square pack. “I think this pizza is for this apartment, but maybe they got the number wrong.”

“You order pizza, babe?” Gunner asked, knocking on the door again. Hearing a little whimper before a pained ‘yes’ came from the other side of the door. “Looks like it’s right. How much?” he asked, digging out his wallet to pay the delivery man. The thin delivery man rattled off an amount and Gunner paid him. After a bit of juggling, the man handed him the pizza, wings, and some kind of cookie before stepping away heading towards the elevator.

Gunner rapped on the door, “You opening the door, babe?”

“No, just set it down and leave. I’ll pay you back later.” Her muffled voice said from the other side of the door.

“Huh, I was hungry anyway,” Gunner declared and turned away from the door with a little grin on his lips as he moved away from the door still holding the pizza. He didn’t get far before he heard her pained groan and some interesting phrases he was sure she meant to be curse words.

“You forgot to leave my pizza!”

“You mean my pizza? ‘cause I paid for it,” he yelled back. Gunner kept walking and he heard more of those colorful phrases before the distinct click of a lock turning. Margo jerked the door open, and her voice wasn’t velvety or sweet when she screeched.

“You bastard, bring me back my dinner!”

Apparently, she’d given up on not cursing him and just went for it. Gunner grinned, he had that effect on people sometimes. He turned to look at her, schooling his expression to hide his amusement. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate it. He looked her up and then back down, taking in the cuteness that was an angry Margo. She really was sexy, he didn’t know how she could pull that look off and still make his cock so fucking hard.

“You going to let me in?” He asked, waiting for her approval.

“Fine, but you can’t have any of my cookie and no hogging the pizza. I eat five slices, you can have what’s left.” Margo muttered petulantly.

“Okay but that means I get all the wings.” Gunner teased, still staying put.

“No, you don’t. I get some wings too, it’s my darn food.”

“I paid.”

“I don’t care if you paid. It’s my dinner and if I’d known you were going to eat it all, I would have ordered more,” Margo growled as her brows furrowed over her eyes as she glared at him. He couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. She was just too damned cute. Gunner shrugged and starting walking towards the elevator.

“Where are you going with my pizza?” she demanded.

“Home, with my dinner.”

“That’s mine, you big jerk!” Margo came storming down the little hallway and tried to grab the pizza box from his hands, but she was too short to take it when he held it above her head.

“I get all the wings.” He bargained. Margo sighed, her anger evident in the way she huffily crossed her arms and nodded roughly.

“Fine.”

“Okay, then,” Gunner agreed and nodded for her to head back into her apartment. He followed behind her nodding to a nosy neighbor who had poked her head out of her apartment after she’d heard all the yelling.

“Hi, Mrs. Coats. How’s your arthritis?” Margo asked as they went by.

“It’s okay, dear. Everything alright out here?” The elderly Mrs. Coats asked, looking at Gunner suspiciously. Gunner wasn’t stunned when people looked at him with suspicion, but he wasn’t wearing his cut tonight. Which meant he was surprised that he was on the receiving end of that narrowed-eyed look. 

“I suppose, he is being a little difficult but I can handle it.” Margo said not hiding the fact that she was still upset with him. Gunner let a grin slide over his lips and he wished he had a hand free so he could spank her ass for that little comment.

“Well then,” Mrs. Coats said nodding at him, a sparkle entering her eyes as she lost the distrusting look she’d worn a moment ago. She grinned as she cackled, “Give him hell. A man needs a little kick in the ass every now and then.”

Gunner had a feeling Mrs. Coats had been quite the woman when she was younger. It made him wonder about Mr. Coats. He could easily see her as one of the club’s old ladies. She shooed them back to Margo’s place with a quick huff as she meandered back into her own apartment, shutting the door. He entered Margo’s place looking around curiously.

He noted the discarded cups littering the little table to the left of the couch, along with paint rags that were littered around the room on tables and peeking out from under the furniture. The room was painted a cheery orangish pink with white trim that he was sure hadn’t been chosen by the apartment complex. There were paintings everywhere, including some that were stacked against the wall by a room off to the right, and more in a corner by the kitchen. Gunner realized that Margo wasn’t much of a cleaner. He had a little bit of OCD and this place was going to end up making him nuts, but he was used to ignoring the urge to clean up after slobs. Most of his brothers had no cleaning skills at all. At least she had some, which meant that her floors were clean and she didn’t have food containers from the 80’s hanging around.

He was teased about being the mother hen of the group every time he couldn’t ignore the mess and started cleaning. Gunner set the pizza down on the spot she cleared out for him on the little coffee table. Margo whispered something as she headed to the kitchen, sounding like more of those little phrases she used as curse words. Gunner watched her ass while she sauntered away from him, his mouth watering, but not for the pizza. Damn, she had a nice ass.

“You drink Coke? Because if not, your choices are apple juice or water,” she called from inside the little kitchen.

“Coke’s fine,” Gunner replied, opening the box for a slice of pizza. He stared down at it, wondering what the hell he’d paid for. “This doesn’t have any meat on it. We should call them and complain.”

“I didn’t order any meat. I eat it with mushrooms, bell peppers, and cheese.”

Gunner grunted and grabbed the largest slice. He was too hungry to complain about the lack of meat, but she wasn’t allowed to order the pizza next time. Margo came from the kitchen carrying two Cokes and some napkins that were tucked under her arm. She glared at him and the slice of pizza he was holding. She held out the Coke and he took it in one hand setting it in front of him on the table ready to take a large bite. Before he could, Margo grabbed it out of his hand, lying it on a napkin she’d torn off. He reached for it only to get his hand smacked and another glare from her.

“I get to choose my slices and that one’s mine because it has a lot of bell peppers. You can have this one,” she growled, handing him the thinnest slice with hardly any toppings on it.

“Woman, I paid. I should get the slices I want.”

“Here, now I paid. Eat what I give you and be glad I’m not kicking you out,” Margo said, handing him another thin slice. Gunner ignored the money she’d laid next to his napkin after digging it out of her pocket where she must have shoved it earlier. He grabbed the box of wings, opening them while taking two out, and began eating them. When she reached over after setting two more small slices on his napkin, he jerked the box back towards his chest.

“Nope, these are mine, that was the deal.” Gunner grinned when she glared at him and stared longingly at the box as he ate another wing. Deciding to take pity on her, he bargained.

“Half your cookie and you can have two wings.”

“No, I’m not sharing my cookie,” Margo refused, grabbing her large slice of pizza and taking a bite before letting out that little moan he remembered from the picnic, making him shift uncomfortably on the couch as he ate his own food. Gunner didn’t say anything as Margo grabbed the remote turning on the TV. He was expecting to end up watching some Lifetime movie, so when she set the remote down after putting on a Bates Motel rerun, he was a little surprised.

“You like this show?” He asked, curious if she’d just put it on because he was here, or if she really watched the show.

“Shhh, I haven’t seen this one. I forget to record them and this is the last season, so shut up and eat my damned wings.” Margo shot him a little glare and he couldn’t help the chuckle as they both settled in. He’d already seen this one, but he didn’t mind watching it again.