This close, his intoxicating, sweet scent makes me heady.
“Sorry. It looks like we keep falling for each other.” The Beta’s voice is seductive but with steel underneath it.
Cat and mouse game it is then.
I deliberately make my gaze half-hooded. “Looks like it. You were the hero who helped me yesterday.”
“Just call me the savior of beautiful Alpha damsels.”
I push the Beta back into his seat, trying not to lose myself in his flirtatious gaze. “Or I could call you by your name.”
This is one of the Hunters.
I know it in my gut.
He is finally making his move. Except, he doesn’t know that this ismemakingmymove.
He taps his fingers on the bar like he has a hard time staying still. “It’s Joker. Since we’ve already fallen into each other’s arms, however, you can call me Jokes.”
“A joke?”
“A Beta walked into a bar.Ow.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That was bad.”
“Shut me up by telling me your name, baby.”
“As long as you swear never to call mebabyagain.”
Joker places his palm over his heart. “Scouts honor.”
“If you were in the Scouts, then I’m a nun.”
Joker leans closer. “Please tell me that you’re not a nun. Because I’m this sweet, innocent Beta staying alone in town and I’ve just met this hot as fuck Alpha who I amhopingmay be into taking me to her hotel room and keeping us both warm, you know?”
It’s an effort not to snort.
He’s the furthest fromsweet and innocent.
He needs to believe, however, that he’s luring me in like he must do with his other marks.
One-night stands between Alphas and Betas on the road are common.
Maybe I was wrong that the masked Alpha is bonded to him because how could an Alpha bear to use his Beta like this?
I know that I couldn’t.
Is it different because they are both ex-military? Are they merely brothers-in-arms and not actually bonded?
Okay, Joker Hunter. I’ll play your game, while trapping you.
Excitement vibrates through me to finally have a name to put to one of the mysterious pack who I have been researching.
“At least buy me a drink first.” I tap the rim of my empty glass.
Eagerly, Joker bounds to his feet, rapping on the counter. “Two more whiskeys. Doubles. Put it on my tab.”
The bartender turns back, slamming down a second glass. Then he grabs up the whiskey bottle and starts to pour out the drinks.
