Rebel (Wolfes of Manhattan 1)

Rock knew a male model? He had to be joking, and his tone was freakishly fanboy. So not Rock Wolfe. But he seemed to recognize Fox. Was his face everywhere? I hadn’t recognized him. I doubted Rock followed men’s fashion. But what the hell did I know?

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Fox said, standing and taking Rock’s outstretched hand. “I do know Riley. She’s a wonderful model.”

“Yes, she is. You look a little surprised. Is everything okay?”

Huh? Fox had looked a little unprepared for the check he’d offered to cover.

“Lisa told us you were drinking the fifteen-year Pappy’s. So are we. It’s smooth stuff.”

Fox cleared his throat. “Yes, it is. Worth every penny.” He slid a credit card on top of the check and pushed it toward the edge of the table.

Rock was still chuckling. How expensive was that bourbon, anyway? It would be rude to look at the check. I unhooked my purse from the back of my chair and fumbled for my wallet. I was the one who’d mimicked Rock’s words and made the order. I’d had no idea the bartender would give us something ridiculously expensive. “I’ll be happy to cover half.”

Fox pushed my hand away. “I wouldn’t think of it. I never let a lady pay.”

“He’s a high-paid model, Lacey,” Rock said. “He can afford it.”

Okay, that was enough. Rock was being an ass, as usual. I stood, but clumsily lost my balance. Rock’s strong arms steadied me.

Damn that spark that hurtled through me at his touch.

“Easy, baby,” he said. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Just three bourbons.” Or did we have four?

“And a couple glasses of wine at dinner, if I remember correctly.”

Fox stood then. “You had dinner with him?”

I opened my mouth, but only a squeak came out.

“Easy, pretty boy,” Rock said. “It was just happenstance. But I’ll tell you one thing that’s for certain. Only one person is taking this lady home, and it isn’t you.”

Again I tried to speak but couldn’t. I hadn’t been planning to go anywhere with Fox. He was way too young for me and not my type at all. I didn’t go for the fine-featured handsome types. No. I was much more interested in rugged handsome, strong handsome—kind of like the man who was ushering me out of the bar.

I didn’t plan on going anywhere with him, either.

“Rock, I’m fine. Let me go. I’ll get a cab.”

“You’re not going anywhere alone. You’re completely obliterated.”

“I don’t get obliterated on three drinks.” Or was it four? Even as I said the words, I was having trouble walking, and my vision was a little blurry. Good thing I hadn’t driven.

Oh, wait. I didn’t own a car.

“Are you used to bourbon?”

“Well…not really.”

“Then why were you drinking it?”

“I don’t know.” But I did. I drank it because he drank it. Because Rock Wolfe had taken over my mind and apparently my body. I’d said the exact thing he’d said to the server at dinner.

Now I was paying for it.

And poor Fox was paying a— “How much is that bourbon, anyway?” I asked Rock, as he flagged down a cab.

“Sixty-five dollars a shot.”

“Sixty-five dollars!” Nausea edged up my throat. I was going to be sick. Really sick. Fox and I had each had three, possibly four. And Paul and the others had joined us on the last round after we both sang its praises.

“Oh my God…”

“He’ll get over it, Lace.”

“But that’s…” My mind wasn’t calculating rapidly. Too much booze. “Over six hundred dollars for what we drank. Plus the other drinks.” I rubbed my temples. Already a headache was forming. From the bourbon or leaving Fox with such a bill, I wasn’t sure.

All because I’d mimicked Rock’s words.

“Easy.” Rock helped me into a cab and then slid in beside me. “Are you going to throw up?”

I rubbed my forehead. “No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Not in my cab,” the driver said.

“We’ll pay for any damage if she does,” Rock said. “And I promise you a nice tip.”

My stomach churned. I’d never be able to look Paul or Fox in the eye again. I’d have to pay Fox back somehow. Oh my God.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Where do you live?” Rock asked me.

But my mind wasn’t working. I opened my mouth but all that came out was babbling.

Rock chuckled, grabbed my purse from me, pulled out my wallet, and looked at my driver’s license. He gave the cabbie the address, and the car lurched forward.

Nearly taking the contents of my stomach with it.

“Easy,” Rock said again, wrapping his strong arm around my shoulders. “Lean on me. We’ll be there soon.”

I swallowed back my nausea and nuzzled into his strong shoulder. He smelled so good. Still like pine and the outdoors, even though he’d been in an office all day. Or so I surmised. He’d have to update his wardrobe.