“Oh?” Tex turned to him with surprise. “Didn’t realize you and the sexy cop hit it off.”
Brad and Reggie stared. Brad said, “Wait. The mean one from the soccer game? That one?”
“You saymeanlike it’s a bad thing,” Reggie said. “She was aggressive for sure. A terrific soccer player. And really, really pretty.”
“I don’t know I’d call her pretty.” Words had importance to Mack. “Beautiful, sexy, sure. Mean in a cruel, stiletto-to-the-crotch-and-handcuffs kind of way.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Tex grinned. “So after you beat her at pool and she kicked your ass at darts, you two made up proper?”
“Wait, wait.” Brad frowned. “What’s this about pool and darts?”
“And why weren’t we invited?” Reggie wanted to know.
Mack wrangled them out of the gym, not wanting to entertain Wash, Nat, and the half dozen other nosy types lingering on their every word. “Mind your business,” he growled at them.
Nat and Wash whispered to each other before laughing in Mack’s face. The others flipped him off or told him what to do with his “business.” Just another day at the gym.
Mack smirked at the others and said to his friends, “I’ll tell you at Swirlie’s.”
“So you’re treating, then?” Reggie asked.
“Yes, you cheap bastard. I’m treating. Save all your questions for Swirlie’s.”
Brad and Tex congratulated Reggie on getting Mack to pay. Then they drove the few blocks to the popular smoothie and snack shop.
Mack would have walked, but the cold was killing him. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt in low-digit weather didn’t help. He shrugged into a sweatshirt before joining the guys inside. Then, after paying half his monthly salary on food and drinks, they sat at a table in the back.
“Cold as a witch’s ti—I mean, a witch’s britches out there,” Tex amended after glancing at the little kids sitting a table over from them.
The mom sniffed and turned back to her kids, then did a double take at all four of them in workout gear. Her eyes widened, and she smiled before turning back to her clamoring children.
“It’s the thighs,” Tex said in a low voice. “Gets ’em every time.”
“More like my arms,” Reggie argued, his voice low as well. “You weak ex-military types know nothing about true muscle.” He eyeballed Brad. “Well, maybe not you, Brad. You lift. But the runners in the group could use a little help.”
Mack loved how Reggie sneered the word “runners,” likely because he had yet to beat Tex or Mack in a footrace. “I’m all about stealth and subtlety, slowpoke.”
“Yeah, sure.” Reggie snorted.
They all paused while two teenagers brought trays of smoothies, sandwiches, and veggie sticks.
“I’m going to have to work overtime to afford this,” Mack muttered and sucked down his pineapple-mango smoothie.
“Tell us about Friday night, Tex,” Brad insisted, his grin slightly demented.
“I’ll tell you,” Mack insisted, knowing Tex would exaggerate. “Otherwise Tex will ‘spin a yarn.’”
“It was a cold winter’s night.” Tex intentionally exaggerated his Southern drawl, which Reggie and Brad found hilarious.
Mack shoved his face into his food.
“Friday night, while you two were schmoozing your women, I went out with Mack to Bessie’s. He’d been challenged by some cops to a game of pool. Our boy here piled on the charm, but Officer Carmichael wasn’t having it. I did my best to clear the way. Took her yeti of a partner with me to the bar and kept him occupied with football talk. Nice guy, but he should stick to the Seahawks. He’s got no sense when it comes to the Cowboys. I mean, Coach McCarthy is gold, son. Don’t think a guy can dispute that and have a brain, know what I mean?”
Brad rolled his eyes. “I wish I cared. Get back to Mack.”
Before Tex could get all pissy, Reggie slapped him on the shoulder and madethere, theresounds.
Mack did his best to hide a grin. Tex was a such a doofus.
