“Margaritas, huh?”
“Yes, I’ve really never been much of a drinker and?—”
“Quit.”
“Excuse me?”
“Quit the bullshit.”
My heart jacks up, and I shift my gaze to the door. “No, really, I’ve never been able to hold my liquor.”
“What happened tonight has nothing to do with the margaritas or how many you had.”
I play with the label on the water bottle, forcing my brain to come up with a witty remark.
“How do you know Benito?”
“Benito?”
Diesel massages his temple. “Just come clean, babe.”
“Come clean about what?” Deny, deny, deny.
Diesel pushes off the couch and glares down at me. “Babe, I know you and I have had a few false starts, and I’m not gonna deny you are one good-lookin’ woman who makes my dick painfully hard, but . . .”
I play with the hem of his t-shirt gathered around my thighs.
"My club and my brothers come first, and if you’re working with Benito, or spying on us for him, you better tell me now.”
“I’m not spying on you.”
“What’s your connection to him then?”
My brain spins with all the ways I can play this out. Tell a total lie, tell a half truth, go with absolute truth, or . . .
“I make your dick painfully hard?”
“Fuck, yeah, but that ain’t what I wanna talk about.” He narrows his eyes, and I see the outlaw in him. “So, stop stalling.”
“It’s complicated.” Sure, I’m stalling, but we’re talking about going against the Mexican cartel.
“I’m used to complicated, babe. I’m an outlaw biker, remember?”
“So, you’re attracted to me and wanted more?”
“Quit changing the subject.”
Maybe I could work this around and save Eduardo and myself.
“Eduardo is my brother.”
“What?” Diesel drops to the couch next to me. “Your brother?”
“My twin brother.”
“No shit! But you don’t look . . .”
“We’re fraternal twins, which means we’re not identical. We just look like any other brother and sister. Eduardo has myfather’s darker coloring, while I take after my mother’s side of the family.”
