“I’m six-five.” Smith smirked.
Cash’s frown grew darker. “I can bench more than you.”
“Yeah?” The need to prove himself returned full force, a lifetime habit of always having to be the best and never managing it thanks to the Griffith brothers. “Let’s see.”
“I don’t have any weights here.” Cash took a swig of his beer then lit up with pleasure. “But I bet I can out-arm wrestle you.”
“Bring it.”
They cleared the coffee table and knelt over it, facing each other. Smith didn’t want to but gripped his brother’s hand as he rested his elbow on the table.
God, even their hands were about the same size.
Cash didn’t seem so pleased by the contact, which made him feel a little better.
The big douche looked him in the eye. “When I say go.”
“Hey, watch your elbow. No cheating.”
“Fuck you. I don’t need to cheat to win.”
Smith raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and Cash swore at him some more before counting down. “In three, two, one…”
They had four matches, all of which proved difficult to win. Smith was sweating when someone entered the room, but focused on the battle, he spared them no attention.
With the matches evenly won, two for Smith and two for Cash, this one would decide the ultimate victor.
“Oh my God. Are you two serious?” Reid asked as he stepped forward. Next to him, Naomi, his girlfriend, whistled.
“Wow. Two sexy, muscled men battling it out. Reid, you didn’t say we’d have live entertainment.”
Smith strained, annoyed Cash seemed to be as strong as he was. Reid’s arrival in no way hampered their bout. Both men continued to press for the win.
“I will end you,” Cash warned. “I am the ultimate champion.”
“You sound like a bad movie,” Smith growled.
Cash, the bastard, laughed. “Been watchingGladiatorand300with Jordan. She has a thing for sweaty men who kill each other.”
“Cash Griffith,” Jordan barked. “What the hell are you doing?”
Cash winced, and his moment of inattention was all Smith needed. Smith used extra effort and pushed. Hard. Cash went down.
The room grew silent.
Cash stood and glared down at Smith. “You cheated.”
“What?” Smith stood as well and took a healthy drink from his bottle. “Not my fault you couldn’t keep up.” Man, the guy had power behind all those muscles. Smith wanted to flex his cramping hand but didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.
“Bull. You—”
Jordan said his name again, and Cash stilled.
Smith watched with appreciation. Jordan had the guy on a tight leash. He liked it. He smirked at her. “Does he sit on command too?”
The old Cash would have lunged for him, but this Cash smiled through his teeth. “I do whatever she wants. And if, by the grace of God, she asks me to rip off your head, I’ll do it with pleasure.”
Reid chuckled. “That’s some kind of power you have, Jordan.”
