The prospect grinned so wide as he handed Gator his drink. Saint couldn’t keep his laugh at bay. Poor guy wanted in this club so bad he was willing to kiss Gator’s crazy ass.
“Get lost,” Gator said, shooing the prospect with a hand wave.
“Copper didn’t take Beth home?”
Gator shook his head as he tossed back his entire drink in two swallows. “Nah,” he said when he’d finished. “Beth told him she wanted to crash here for a night or two. Said she needed a little break from being at their house.” Gator grabbed the bottle Frisco abandoned and refilled his glass. “Copper nearly blew his top at first, but Shell talked him down as she always does. She reminded him that Beth was used to being on her own and needed some space. Shell told him this way Beth could have fun, have a few drinks, and not worry about driving home.”
“Huh.” So she was somewhere in the clubhouse, planning to spend the night.
Interesting.
His cock sure liked the new knowledge.
“Think she claimed the last room on the left.”
Saint raised an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me because…”
Gator shrugged. “Because you get hard every time she’s around. So does she. Figured you might want to bang it out already.”
Saint nearly choked on his whiskey. “Uh, no, she doesn’t. Pretty sure she doesn’t have a dick, Gator.”
“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Gator asked, waggling his light eyebrows.
Saint reached across the bar and shoved his idiot friend back with a hand on his face. The move sent Gator into a fit of wild laughter.
“All right. We need drinks, and we need them now,” Lindsey announced as she walked from the back hallway of the clubhouse arm in arm with Beth, whose gaze shuttered when she noticed Saint at the bar.
What the hell was that about?
Twenty minutes later, Saint found himself seated in an Adirondack chair out behind the clubhouse with Lindsey, Gator, and Beth. It was too early, too bright, and too hot to start a fire,so they sat around the remnants of last night’s bonfire. Lindsey angled her chair so she could prop her bare feet in Gator’s lap while her sandals lay on the ground beneath her chair. Beth sat next to Saint in her own chair across from the other two, holding the bottle of whiskey Gator had snagged before they came outside.
She was quieter than usual and stiff. Maybe tense was a better word.
“You okay?” Saint leaned over to ask in a low voice.
“Sure.” She took a swallow directly from the bottle as his eyebrow arched.
“Gimme, Bethy,” Lindsey ordered. She leaned forward, motioning for the bottle, which Beth handed over. “So I think I owe you an apology. Saint too.”
He frowned as he looked between Beth’s troubled expression and Lindsey’s sheepish one. “What do you mean?”What the hell?Had she done something to Beth?
“Easy there, Rambo,” Gator muttered with a chuckle. “Your face is getting all murder-looking.”
Saint flipped Gator off.
Lindsey took a swig from the bottle before passing it off to Gator. “I invited Beth to lunch today with Melody and me because I thought she might have some insight into, well, you.”
He motioned for the bottle from Gator. “What are you talking about?” The whiskey had a pleasant burn as it traveled down his throat.
“I knew Mel was into you, and she suggested Beth might have some tips on how to snag you since you guys have spent time together recently. I didn’t realize Mel was so… aggressive in her interest in you, and that you didn’t return it.”
“How do you know he doesn’t want Mel?” Gator lifted the bottle to his smirking lips. “He disappeared for a while aftertaking her home. Maybe they spent the afternoon rattling her headboard.”
“The fuck?” Saint straightened. He could feel waves of tension and discomfort coming off Beth, who had yet to say a word since they sat outside.
“Stop being a shit-stirrer,” Lindsey said, whacking Gator’s arm. Of course, all that did was make him snort out a laugh.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Don’t worry, Beth, he was doing shit for Zach all afternoon.”
