She forced her way onto his lap and traced her finger down his bare chest. “I don’t take rain checks. Now, how about that drink? We can go into the red room where it’s more comfortable.”
Atticus heard Krys draw in a sharp gasp before grabbing her hips and forcing her off him.
“Not interested,” he growled.
She flicked his ear. “Neither am I.”
“That was cold,” Archer remarked, watching the woman strut off.
Krys groomed his short goatee angrily. “She was using sensory magic.”
Archer shook his head. “You can’t trust a chick who has to push emotions into you. Something ain’t right.”
“I bet she has crabs,” Lucian said with a straight face. “She was wiggling too much.”
A quiet moment passed before Archer erupted with laughter. Atticus chuckled and took another drink of his martini. Breed women were assertive, which made their clubs interesting in comparison to human ones.
Archer set down his beer. “So… you’re serious about Joy, huh? When exactly did you set your sights on her?”
Lucian leaned in. “Yeah. Why Joy? She had a mate. At least, that’s what everyone thought. Are you a home-wrecker?”
The tension was palpable. “I’ve always been drawn to her since we first met. Whenever your pack visited my club, I noticed her.”
Archer twisted to face him. “What exactly did you notice?”
“How thoughtful she was—how generous and humble. Yet always with a self-awareness of her worth. If it eases your mind, I never made advances while she was with Salem. We barely spoke, and she disliked me immensely.”
Archer rubbed the back of his neck. “If this thing works out, I don’t want you starting shit with Salem. We don’t need conflict. He’s a good guy.”
“He’s not exactly a saint,” Krys muttered before taking a drink. He gave Archer a pointed look, and it was clear they were still sorting out their feelings after discovering Salem’s involvement with the lab.
“I felt the same way,” Atticus admitted. “But he saved her. He saved the others, risking his own life and whatever job security he had. I think he has a long way to go to make peace with whathe took part in, but I respect that he cared for her all this time, even if he’s a fool for not recognizing what he had all along.”
Archer’s attention drifted off to a group of men on a green couch. “Yeah. They made a good couple even if it was all bogus.” He squinted. “Is that who I think it is?”
Krys twisted around in his chair and stared intently at the group of men. Instead of turning back around, he continued staring until one of the men noticed. A debonair fellow wearing a brown turtleneck met eyes with the long-haired Shifter who was glaring at him.
Atticus focused on the man’s accelerating heartbeat. The Englishman cleared his throat and then invited his group to join him in the gold room for a meal. As he crossed the room, he ignored the death stares coming from the Arrowhead pack.
Finally Krys sat forward and shook his head. “I fucking hate small towns.”
“Who is that?” Atticus watched the man lead his party into the adjacent room.
Archer finished his beer and pushed it to the center of the table. “That’s Ian Mason, another Shifter that was kicked out of our group.”
“What for?”
“His crazy wolf tried killing Tak and then attacked Robyn. If he ever shifts in your bar, watch out.”
“Duly noted. I’ll make sure my people keep an eye on him.”
“You don’t have to go that far. It’s our business.”
“Your business is now my business.” Atticus finished his drink. “Your enemies are my enemies.”
That held their attention. Krys and Archer exchanged a quiet glance. Lucian, however, was glued to his phone.
“Is something up?” Krys asked.
