“Figured you’d say that.” Cam slid a hand down between them, palming Nic’s cock through his jeans and resurrecting the erection Nic was trying—and failing—not to focus on. “And three, I’m not leaving here tonight until I take that tie off your cock with my teeth.” He tightened his grip, swallowed Nic’s growl with a scorching kiss, then released him, spinning away and throwing a “Let’s go, Counselor” over his shoulder.
He disappeared around the corner, and affectionate jealousy streaked through Nic. Cam could pull off that just-fucked look—whether actually the case or not—and no one would think twice. Dark tousled hair, dark eyes, a sinful smirk that lived on his face half the time already. Cam’s cockiness was part of his charm. Nic didn’t have that same easy charisma. He had to rely on his prosecutor’s mask instead, which unfortunately wasn’t always foolproof around Cam.
It needed to be today, though, with his staff and Mel just around the corner. Inhaling deep, he drew down the mask and coached down his erection before entering the tasting area. He found it both more and less deserted than expected. More in thathis staff was nowhere to be seen. Everyone was outside judging by the voices and noises drifting in through the open back-lot door. Less in that Mel and Cam weren’t the only people in the room. Daniel Talley, Mel’s husband, stood behind the bar, pulling taps and filling pint glasses.
“Help yourself,” Nic said.
Danny flashed him a devilish grin. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“You making the bartender gig official?” Whenever the youngest Talley was here, he always found his way behind the bar, and today he even looked the part—dressed in jeans, a Gravity tee, and a worn pair of Chucks.
“You want to tell my dad, or should I?” Danny replied. “How do you think he’ll take the news? He’s been loving his retirement.” Danny was CEO of Talley Enterprises, his family’s shipping empire, and Mel was TE’s chief of security, along with running a successful bounty business on the side. Danny set another pint of FBI Stout on the bar in front of Nic. “Only way Dad would find that acceptable is if you’ve managed to talk my brother into taking over.”
Behind them, Mel and Cam laughed out loud, and Nic couldn’t suppress his own chuckle. As much as Aidan Talley loved his family, his allergy to the family business was legendary.
Four glasses in hand, Danny skirted through the open bar flip. “Guess that answers that question.”
Nic followed him to the table where Danny passed beers to Mel and Cam. “So then, you’re here about this bounty business too?” Nic claimed a glass and the chair next to Cam. “Or for the free beer?”
Danny’s dark eyes glittered with poorly concealed mischief. “Both.”
“I need a decoy,” Mel said.
Said decoy dramatically swept an arm in front of himself. Mel rolled her eyes and caught her husband by the wrist, tugging Danny down into the chair beside hers.
“Should we be here?” Nic said, gesturing at himself and Cam, then toward the back lot. “Should my people and patrons? We’re expecting a full house tonight for the new release.”
“Which is excellent, by the way,” Danny said with a tip of his glass.
“It’s all by the book,” Mel said, and Nic swore he heard an unspoken relatively tacked on at the end. “I’m here, getting the owner’s permission”—she tilted her own glass at Nic—“and we should be able to apprehend the bounty before things really get going tonight. The food trucks arrive early, correct?”
Nic glanced at the clock over the bar. “In about an hour. We don’t open to the public for two.”
“You do staff dinner?” Mel asked.
“Of course.”
“Good. We’ll gather them in here, then execute the takedown outside.”
“Are you sure your bounty will be here tonight?”
“Am I sure about the bounty I’ve been tracking for a month?” She leaned forward, glaring daggers across the table at him. As it was autumn, she’d traded her skirts and stilettos for cashmere, denim, and boots, but the heels on the latter were no less high. She tapped one pointy end against the floor beneath the table, a tempo for her rapidly thinning patience. “Yes, Price. I think I know what I’m doing here.”
Cam stopped guzzling his beer for two seconds to interject, “It’s been a long day, Mel, and he’s just worried about his people. And to be fair, we’ve torn this place up a time or two.”
Nic raised his hands, palms out. “And to be fair,” he echoed, “I was part of that destruction each time, but it never happenedwith civilians here. As long as we can protect everyone, I’m on board to help.”
“Tell us what you’ve got,” Cam said to Mel. “Who’s your bounty?”
Seemingly appeased, she relaxed in her chair, glass in hand, and continued after a long swallow. “James Daley. Charged with grand theft auto, DUI, and property destruction.” She traded her glass for her phone, tapped the screen several times, then handed the device to Cam. He tilted it so Nic could see the mugshot displayed. Daley looked like every high frat boy ever—shaggy blond hair; glassy red eyes; wrinkled designer polo; a carefree, doped-up smile, enjoying his buzz despite the circumstances, sure he’d get out of them. “Skipped bail earlier this month.”
Nic ran the numbers in his head. “That bond is at least a hundred grand.”
“Try two fifty,” Danny said. “He jacked a Lamborghini Urus while high with his frat brothers. Fucking gorgeous car... until he ran it into a light pole.”
Mel side-eyed her husband. “You don’t need another car.”
Danny hid his I’m-still-going-to-buy-one smile in his beer.
