Tripp scrunched his brow. “A snake? Is it a snake?”
Cracking up, I rolled my eyes. “Do snakes lose their heads? Does your answer even make sense?”
He scoffed. “I bet there’s some snake somewhere that loses its head. I’m sure if you looked in an encyclopedia of snakes, you’d find some weird-ass one that loses its head. Right, Lulu?”
She patted his thigh. “Tripp, I love you, baby, but you need to stop talking about snakes. I hate snakes. Even as an answer to a riddle. But it’s not the answer. And let’s hope there’s not an encyclopedia of snakes anywhere.”
“What’s the answer, then, Miss Smarty Pants?” His hands darted to her waist, and he tickled her ferociously, igniting a flurry of laughter.
It was the full-bodied kind of chuckle that seemed to move through her like a wave, from her shoulders to her belly to her legs. “A pillow, you goofball.”
He held up his hands in the air. “A pillow? A pillow loses its head in the morning?” He paused, then nodded. “Fine, it does. But, seriously. Who thinks of these things?”
“Let’s just be glad someone does. Give me another, Leo.”
“What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?”
Tripp cut in. “Did you get her a dirty book of riddles?”
I showed him the cover. “101 Brain-Busting Riddles for the Riddle Lover in Your Life.”
“Still sounds dirty.”
“This one’s easy,” Lulu said to Tripp. “Think about it hard.”
“If I’m thinking hard, then that is a dirty book of riddles.”
“It’s not dirty. I know what it is.” Lulu practically bounced on the couch cushions, an eager student bursting with the answer.
Tripp furrowed his brow, then shrugged. “All I can figure is it’s someone who starts out a stud but fails miserably.”
Lulu thrust a fist in the air. “Nope. It’s the letter M. Isn’t that brilliant? It comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years.”
“It is indeed brilliant,” I said.
Tripp paused, processing the riddle, then laughed. “Good one.”
He grabbed her wineglass and took a swig then set it back down on the table. “Listen, I’m man enough to admit I suck at riddles, but I am fucking awesome at feeding my woman.” He rubbed Lulu’s stomach. My jaw ticked, and I glanced at Lulu’s wineglass. It was nearly half empty now. “You want some sautéed artichokes with shiitake mushrooms and polenta? I came up with this new recipe while I was riding my bike the other day, and it’s going to make your stomach so happy that you jump me.”
She arched a brow. “Your artichokes will make me jump you? That’s what’ll do it?”
“They’ll make you come in a minute.”
I groaned. Loudly.
“Oh, please. I heard what you did to Daphne the other night,” Tripp said as he rose, mentioning the woman I’d been dating.
“Is that so?” I asked.
Tripp pumped his hips. “She was like, oh Leo, oh Leo, oh Leo. She was like that all night long.” Lulu’s eyebrows rose, and for a split second, I didn’t mind that Tripp was imitating one of my lovers in the throes of passion. Let Lulu linger on that image. Tripp continued, talking to me, “Have I mentioned I can’t wait to move in with my fiancée next week after she marries me? I can finally get away from you, Casanova.”
He acted like I had a parade of women flitting into the place at all hours. I wasn’t going to disabuse anyone of that notion.
Lulu sat up straighter, her lips quirking in curiosity. “You’re a multiple man, Leo?”
Go out on a high note. Like George Costanza. I blew on my fingernails. “When you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”
Lulu laughed. “I guess you’ve got it.”
Tripp headed into the kitchen, and I returned to the book, reading more riddles to Lulu. That was my role with her. Riddle-supplier, not multiple-O-bestower.
“What has a tongue, but never talks, and has no legs, but sometimes walks?”
A beat. “A shoe.”
“What belongs to you, but other people use it more than you?”
She hummed then her eyes lit up. “Your name.”
Shortly after the next riddle, Tripp cursed from the kitchen. “Shit. I’m out of mushrooms. Be right back.”
He took off for the store, and Lulu’s stomach rumbled. “I’m hungry. I can’t wait for him any longer. If I have to wait, my stomach is going to mutiny.”
“Best to avoid that sort of insurrection.”
“Don’t tell Tripp I’m going to snack.”
“It’ll be our secret.”
