One look, and I’m ready to fight off every set of eyes that ain’t mine. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.
My brothers' heads swivel almost in unison, deadlocked on Sawyer.
So I lie like an idiot as I say, "Nah, not my hat."
They all snap back to me, those hawk-like gazes zeroing in on me. Charming's eyes narrow, a slight tilt to his mouth that doesn't quite reach amusement.
"Bro," he draws out the word, tiling his head. "That's definitely your hat."
"Like I said. Notmine."
Charming lets out a soft chuckle. "You never were good at poker, T."
"Thought you said she was off-limits," Rogue raises an eyebrow, his voice a mix of challenge and amusement.
"Off-limits for anyone except Trouble," Charming adds, smirking.
Trouble. It’s what I am. What I always seem to find or create, whether I try or not. And my brothers know it.
Rogue snickers, arms folded across his chest. "Can't wait to see how this one turns out. Knox is gonna beat your ass, and I'll have a front row seat."
"We done here?" Danger asks, probably in a rush to get back to Fisher. "We're here for a reason, so let's get to it."
Sometimes I just wish he’d loosen up a little, let himself have some fun. He’s not an old man. Mama loves every second she gets to spend with Fisher, but he’s too damn stubborn to see it.
Danger doesn’t wait for us. He makes his way toward the pool tables and we trail behind him.
"More shit has come up missing this week," Rogue whispers from beside me.
“Probably why they tried sneaking onto the property last night,” I mutter. Though, what I really mean is that they almost caught me with Sawyer. “Cameras would've picked it up if they walked onto the ranch.”
“I’m telling you,” Rogue shakes his head. “They got to someone who works for us—someone we see on the cameras all the time, and we’d never think they’re workin’ with them. Probably sneakin’ shit in and out.”
"Come on now," I say, hoping he’s wrong. "All our employees are loyal. No one would work with them."
The clack of billiard balls and the whispers get louder,like the whole bar’s tuned in and waiting for something to happen. The Kennedy brothers are huddled together, cues in hand, laughing. They don't see us at first, but then they feel it—the shift in the room. Their heads turn all at once, eyes narrowing.
"Aw hell, what do ya'll want?" Wade Kennedy snaps, leaning on his pool stick.
"Heard you tried to pay us a little visit last night," Danger says before he casually leans against the pool table.
"Maybe we were just trying to party with ya'll," Clay responds, but he ain’t even trying to make it sound convincing.
"Quit the shit," I say, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer.
And the glare he throws me? It’s pure evil.
"Did you feel like a real man last night, Trouble?" Wade sneers, each syllable dripping with scorn. "I saw you holding that gun, pretending like you weren't scared to pull the trigger."
From the corner of my eye, I catch his brother laugh before he adds, "Sounds like a pussy to me."
I take a step forward, fist clenched and ready to knock him out—one clean hit, that’s all I need.
But before I can swing, Danger moves fast, stepping between us like he knew what was coming.
“You’ve got one week. Bring us back all the shit you stole from us. After that, we don’t play nice.”
Clay's knuckles dig into the worn green felt of the pool table. "We don't got your shit," he throws back.
