“Hey, Joel, I’m gonna go with Becks to visit Mr. Paige,” Ozzie said, then looked to Beckett. “As long as that’s okay with you?”
Beckett nodded. “Fine with me—he’ll fuss, but it’s been less than twenty-four hours, and Ren says he’s going stir-crazy.”
“Tell ’im hi for me,” I said, patting Oz’s shoulder, guy-speak forGet the fuck out of my bar so I can get my flirt on.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Ozzie popped his brows at Tristan, who grumbled in response. Shooting me a troublemaker grin, Beckett saluted, calling out over his shoulder, “See ya next week.” Oz followed him out the door.
I shook my head at their retreating forms. Something told me this thing with Chase DeWitt was not over by a long shot. If I were a betting man, I’d bet Becks was gonna need bailing out of jail before long.
Lost in my thoughts, I startled when a certain barista jabbed my ribs with a sharp finger.
“Hey! I’m not done with you,” Tristan insisted, an adorable snarl on his lips.
Gesturing to the empty bar, I gave him a small bow. “All righty then. Let me have it.”
CHAPTER3
tristan
@theseguinbean:Free coffee for life to anyone who brings me the head of Joel Hays.
@thewateringhole:I plead the fifth.
Something about this whole situation wasn’t right. I was angry but completely turned on—had I mentioned Joel had Dr Pepper–brown eyes that sparkled in the sun? More importantly, he had a smile on his face like he knew something I hadn’t yet figured out. Given the twinkle in his eyes, I went ahead and checked over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being pranked.
“Why are you smiling? You should not be smiling. You should be afraid of me.” I pushed my finger into his—oh God—well-muscled chest.
He shrugged, acting as though his answer wasn’t all that important, but that little twitch of his lips told me he was up to no good.On purpose.“I’ve had a really good time this last month with our little battle of words.”
“Aha!” I raised my finger in victory, then put it in his gorgeous, smirking face. “I knew you knew it was a battle. Awar, actually.”
“Of course I knew. I’m the one who started it.”
“That’s right. Because you’re the one who started—” I cut myself off, confused by the fact that he was freely admitting to treachery while also in a good mood about it.
Joel’s eyes scanned the front door again before he leaned forward, beckoning me with a finger. “Would you like to know why I started this littlewarbetween us?”
I narrowed my eyes, smelling a rat. “Sure. ’Cause we both know you’re up to something.”
“I damn sure would like to be.”
The early afternoon sun glinted off the rows of glasses on the shelves behind him as my brain tried to put together whatever the fuck it was he was aiming for.“Are you…?” I stopped, unsure. What did he mean by smiling like that? “Don’t you fucking make fun of me.”
“I would never.”
“Then—” I leaned forward, matching his posture. “Are you flirting with me?”
Triumph lit his eyes. “Oh, I am very definitely flirting with you.”
Embarrassing confession: I once followed Joel into a local soap shop and watched from the back as he bought two different kinds of cologne. That only seemed important now because I was pretty damned sure I was smelling at least one of them on him right now. Maybe both mixed together.
He also wasn’t as tall as I’d thought—maybe one or two inches taller than me. He was just broader.
None of which was relevant as my mouth tried to work out whether open or closed would set the right mood, making me feel like some sorta bass who’d found himself flopping around on a dock.
Yep. Nope. Still speechless.
