Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)
Peck and Cross both say something. I’m not sure to whom. I’m too busy melting into a puddle of goo under Machlan’s gaze.
His face is flushed from the situation, but it only makes me want him more. It gives him a little unruliness to his otherwise contained appearance.
“Look, Had. If you’re here, I’m gonna be watching you.” A ghost of a smile flirts with his cheeks. “If I’m watching you, I’m not watching them.”
I bite on my bottom lip to keep from breaking into an ear-to-ear smile.
“I have an idea,” Peck chimes in. “I’ll watch her.”
Machlan rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t trust you to watch my dog.”
He tips his empty bottle Machlan’s way. “You let me help close the bar the other night.”
“So?”
“So that establishes a certain level of trust.”
“He has a point,” Cross says. When Machlan shoots him a look, he points a finger his way. “What are you gonna do, Mach? Tell her she can’t stay? Good luck with that.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I’m going home to my girl. You guys can do whatever you want. Peck, you’ll make sure she gets to the apartment, right?”
“As long as Machlan doesn’t kill me.”
I lay my head on Peck’s shoulder. “You protect me from the boogeymen in here, and I’ll protect you from Machlan.”
“Who’s gonna protect you from me?” Machlan’s eyes twinkle as he says the words.
My jaw hangs open in a very unladylike fashion. I can’t pick it up. I can’t speak, but I am grateful when Cross does.
“Can we not?” my brother asks.
Machlan turns to address someone shouting his name from the other side of the bar. He holds up a finger and turns back to Peck. “Don’t let me down, Peck.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“Don’t ask that,” Cross and I say in unison, making everyone laugh.
Machlan shakes his head and starts toward the guy yelling for him.
“Can I get another beer?” Peck shouts his way.
“And I need a drink, please,” I say before Machlan is out of earshot. He just shakes his head harder.
Cross leans in and tells me he’ll call me tomorrow. He and Peck have a hushed conversation before Peck turns back to the television and Cross turns toward the door.
My attention naturally turns to Machlan.
He has a bottle of a clear-colored liquid in one hand and a glass with ice in the other. His biceps flex as he moves behind the bar, pouring and mixing and shaking things together. The longer he stands in one place, the more people gather. It appears as though he’s telling a story because the patrons seem to hang on his words. It’s a very different Machlan than I’m used to seeing.
I’ve seen him control a room. He keeps a solid grip on every situation he’s in. It’s no surprise that he’s the go-to guy when someone in his family needs a favor. Those are the situations he’s most comfortable in. That’s the role he likes to play. But seeing him like this—not only in control and comfortable, but relaxed, maybe even enjoying it, on a whole other level, is fascinating.
“Hey, Hadley!” Navie’s voice draws me out of my spy-fest. “Can I get you something?”
“Please, for the love of God, order water,” Peck groans.
“Did I miss something?” Navie laughs. Her giant gold hoop earrings catch the light and twinkle. “Why do you have to order water? Oh, my God! Are you pregnant?”
“No, no, no. Nothing like that.” I let out a single laugh as I look up. My gaze is snatched out of the air by Machlan’s. He lets it settle over me, lets my body temperature spike to the point of explosion, before pulling it away and back to the bottle in his hand. “I …” I stammer, clearing my throat. “Just … can I get a water?”
“Sure.” She digs in the cooler under the bar and pulls out a bottle. “Here you go.”
Forgetting all about the game on the television, Peck leans toward Navie. Her red lips part into a wide smile as Peck slides his beer bottle from hand to hand.
“What can I get you?” she asks in a much softer, sexier tone than she used with me.
“I could really use another beer.”
She leans closer to him. “Is that so?”
He nods, grinning wildly. “Unless you’d like to dazzle me with some drink making skills.”
“Oh, I have lots of dazzling skills. The problem is figuring out which to show you first.”
Whether he folds under the pressure or loses his cool, I don’t know, but he starts chuckling. His cheeks are as pink as Navie’s shirt.
It’s her turn to smile like an idiot, and I can’t help but feel like I’m intruding. Just when I start to get up, I see Molly and sit right back down.
“Hey, Peck,” Molly says, coming up to the other side of Peck. She pointedly ignores Navie as though she’s not even there. “How are you, baby?”