“Be right back.” I swear, he virtually runs for the bar.
“What the hell, Cowboy?” She doesn’t use my name, though I know she knows it now. It irks me, so I do it back to her, figuring she’ll feel just as prickly about it.
“Whatcha talking about, Lil Bit?” My thumb scrapes my lower lip as I smile her way. This smile has dropped panties damn near every time I use its powers for bad, dirty things. Erica is completely unfazed.
“Don’t be a dick to my sister. She’s into you, and you damn well know it. I’m trying to help you out here, but I won’t let her be some notch on your bedpost. Don’t fuck her over.” The order is punctuated with a pointed finger and a heavy glare of warning.
“That usually work for you?” At her raised brow, I clarify. “Barking orders at people. Get me this . . . and Reed runs off to do it. I’ll only go to this bar . . . and here we sit. People usually do what you tell them to?” I’m actually curious, not giving her shit. Okay, maybe I am a little bit, but I do want to know the real answer too.
“It works better when they do. So again, don’t fuck her over.”
I glance at Emily, who’s scanning the listings on the jukebox like something Top 40 is going to magically appear. “I’ve got no intention of it.”
Which is true. I have no plans of fucking Emily over—or fucking her, period. I have about thirty different plans already sorted by priority for Erica, though.
She’s shrewd, and her full lips press into a flat, no-nonsense line. “Intending to and not doing it are different. Just don’t.”
We lock eyes, and the tension between us swirls and morphs, anger and questions turning to heat and lust. She’s working hard to hide hers. Mine is all out there and bold.
Reed shows back up with four split checks in hand, intentionally breaking between Erica and me to interrupt the eye-fuck. I reach over, taking the papers from him. “I’ve got it.”
Erica starts to argue, and I’m guessing she usually picks up the tab. But I shoot her a hard look, adding, “My treat for getting Bessie fixed up.”
She softens slightly and allows it. I get the sense that’s not something she does often, and I want to strut around like a damn peacock. For her letting me buy her a beer. What the hell kind of twisted magic has she worked on me? I don’t know, but I want another spell of it.
I hold the check and cash up for Monica, who appears in an instant. “Thanks, Monica. Keep the change.”
She glances down quickly, verifying that I haven’t shorted her. “Ooh, Rix. This one’s a keeper.” She winks her heavily black-rimmed eye at me. “Come back anytime, Rix’s friend. With or without her.”
Reed looks sullen, his arms crossed over his chest and his face thunderous, like he can fight his way into being the alpha here.
He’s into Erica, I get that, and it sounds like there’s some history there. Maybe. But despite his best puppy dog efforts, Erica’s on my hook. So are Emily and Monica, but I only want one woman right now . . . Lil Bit.
Erica hollers out, “Em! We’re out!”
Emily’s relief is visible from here, and as she gets closer, she huffs. “Thank God. There are barely five songs on that jukebox I even know. And they all make me think of Dad and cleaning tools.” She laughs, and I try to imagine her as a snot-nosed kid with greasy hands from wiping down wrenches. The picture doesn’t come, though somehow, I can see Erica doing it. Makes no sense, but it’s the truth all the same.
Chapter 6
Erica
I’m torn. I need to stay, make sure that Emily gets in her car okay and doesn’t let her stupid heart lead her into doing something she’ll regret. Like Brody. On the other hand, I want to leave because I cannot watch him fall for her, even if it’s just for a minute. And especially if he really is her One.
Reed heads to his truck, parked down a couple of spots, waving goodbye and keeping a close lookout for anything sketchy. But he heard my dismissal of ‘see you tomorrow’ and always aims to please, doing as I say, like Brody noticed.
Brody opens Emily’s door for her, a gentlemanly gesture that doesn’t mesh with the asshole he’s been most of the night. Emily’s been her usual self, flirty and friendly, able to easily carry the conversational weight. Brody’s barely grunted at her, focusing more on me until she’s getting in her car, and he’s suddenly being nice. Suspicion blooms hot in my belly.
Don’t, Emily. Not yet. You don’t even know this guy. Make him work for it, at least.